window.__IS_SSR__=true
window.__INITIAL_STATE__={
"attachmentsReducer": {
"audio_0": {
"type": "attachments",
"id": "audio_0",
"imgSizes": {
"kqedFullSize": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/news/wp-content/themes/KQED-unified/img/audio_bgs/background0.jpg"
}
}
},
"audio_1": {
"type": "attachments",
"id": "audio_1",
"imgSizes": {
"kqedFullSize": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/news/wp-content/themes/KQED-unified/img/audio_bgs/background1.jpg"
}
}
},
"audio_2": {
"type": "attachments",
"id": "audio_2",
"imgSizes": {
"kqedFullSize": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/news/wp-content/themes/KQED-unified/img/audio_bgs/background2.jpg"
}
}
},
"audio_3": {
"type": "attachments",
"id": "audio_3",
"imgSizes": {
"kqedFullSize": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/news/wp-content/themes/KQED-unified/img/audio_bgs/background3.jpg"
}
}
},
"audio_4": {
"type": "attachments",
"id": "audio_4",
"imgSizes": {
"kqedFullSize": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/news/wp-content/themes/KQED-unified/img/audio_bgs/background4.jpg"
}
}
},
"placeholder": {
"type": "attachments",
"id": "placeholder",
"imgSizes": {
"thumbnail": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-2000x1333-1-160x107.jpg",
"width": 160,
"height": 107,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"medium": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-2000x1333-1-800x533.jpg",
"width": 800,
"height": 533,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"medium_large": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-2000x1333-1-768x512.jpg",
"width": 768,
"height": 512,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"large": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-2000x1333-1-1020x680.jpg",
"width": 1020,
"height": 680,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"1536x1536": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-2000x1333-1-1536x1024.jpg",
"width": 1536,
"height": 1024,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"fd-lrg": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-2000x1333-1-1536x1024.jpg",
"width": 1536,
"height": 1024,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"fd-med": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-2000x1333-1-1020x680.jpg",
"width": 1020,
"height": 680,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"fd-sm": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-2000x1333-1-800x533.jpg",
"width": 800,
"height": 533,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"post-thumbnail": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-2000x1333-1-672x372.jpg",
"width": 672,
"height": 372,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"twentyfourteen-full-width": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-2000x1333-1-1038x576.jpg",
"width": 1038,
"height": 576,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"xxsmall": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-2000x1333-1-160x107.jpg",
"width": 160,
"height": 107,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"xsmall": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-2000x1333-1-672x372.jpg",
"width": 672,
"height": 372,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"small": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-2000x1333-1-672x372.jpg",
"width": 672,
"height": 372,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"xlarge": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-2000x1333-1-1020x680.jpg",
"width": 1020,
"height": 680,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"full-width": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-2000x1333-1-1920x1280.jpg",
"width": 1920,
"height": 1280,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"guest-author-32": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-1333x1333-1-160x160.jpg",
"width": 32,
"height": 32,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"guest-author-50": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-1333x1333-1-160x160.jpg",
"width": 50,
"height": 50,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"guest-author-64": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-1333x1333-1-160x160.jpg",
"width": 64,
"height": 64,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"guest-author-96": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-1333x1333-1-160x160.jpg",
"width": 96,
"height": 96,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"guest-author-128": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-1333x1333-1-160x160.jpg",
"width": 128,
"height": 128,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"detail": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-1333x1333-1-160x160.jpg",
"width": 160,
"height": 160,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg"
},
"kqedFullSize": {
"file": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/12/KQED-Default-Image-816638274-2000x1333-1.jpg",
"width": 2000,
"height": 1333
}
}
},
"arts_10022966": {
"type": "attachments",
"id": "arts_10022966",
"meta": {
"index": "attachments_1716263798",
"site": "arts",
"id": "10022966",
"found": true
},
"parent": 22966,
"imgSizes": {
"kqedFullSize": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2008/06/blasted-rec.jpg",
"width": 248,
"height": 140
},
"guest-author-96": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2008/06/blasted-rec-96x96.jpg",
"width": 96,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 96
},
"guest-author-64": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2008/06/blasted-rec-64x64.jpg",
"width": 64,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 64
},
"detail": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2008/06/blasted-rec-75x75.jpg",
"width": 75,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 75
},
"guest-author-32": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2008/06/blasted-rec-32x32.jpg",
"width": 32,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 32
},
"guest-author-128": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2008/06/blasted-rec-128x128.jpg",
"width": 128,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 128
}
},
"publishDate": 1214423314,
"modified": 1214423314,
"caption": null,
"description": null,
"title": "Blasted at the Mosser Hotel-",
"credit": null,
"status": "inherit",
"isLoading": false,
"fetchFailed": false
},
"arts_10022887": {
"type": "attachments",
"id": "arts_10022887",
"meta": {
"index": "attachments_1716263798",
"site": "arts",
"id": "10022887",
"found": true
},
"parent": 22887,
"imgSizes": {
"kqedFullSize": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2008/06/tis-pity-rec.jpg",
"width": 248,
"height": 140
},
"guest-author-96": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2008/06/tis-pity-rec-96x96.jpg",
"width": 96,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 96
},
"guest-author-64": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2008/06/tis-pity-rec-64x64.jpg",
"width": 64,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 64
},
"detail": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2008/06/tis-pity-rec-75x75.jpg",
"width": 75,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 75
},
"guest-author-32": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2008/06/tis-pity-rec-32x32.jpg",
"width": 32,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 32
},
"guest-author-128": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2008/06/tis-pity-rec-128x128.jpg",
"width": 128,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 128
}
},
"publishDate": 1213309683,
"modified": 1213309683,
"caption": null,
"description": null,
"title": "Tis Pity She's a Whore-",
"credit": null,
"status": "inherit",
"isLoading": false,
"fetchFailed": false
},
"arts_10022867": {
"type": "attachments",
"id": "arts_10022867",
"meta": {
"index": "attachments_1716263798",
"site": "arts",
"id": "10022867",
"found": true
},
"parent": 22867,
"imgSizes": {
"kqedFullSize": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2008/06/das-rheingold-rec4.jpg",
"width": 248,
"height": 140
},
"detail": {
"file": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/sites/2/2008/06/das-rheingold-rec4-75x75.jpg",
"width": 75,
"mimeType": "image/jpeg",
"height": 75
}
},
"publishDate": 1212797486,
"modified": 1212797486,
"caption": null,
"description": null,
"title": "SF Opera: Das Rheingold-",
"credit": null,
"status": "inherit",
"isLoading": false,
"fetchFailed": false
}
},
"audioPlayerReducer": {
"postId": "stream_live",
"isPaused": true,
"isPlaying": false,
"pfsActive": false,
"pledgeModalIsOpen": true,
"playerDrawerIsOpen": false,
"liveAudioPlayStartedAt": 0,
"liveAudioPlayContext": ""
},
"authorsReducer": {
"mfox": {
"type": "authors",
"id": "22",
"meta": {
"index": "authors_1716337520",
"id": "22",
"found": true
},
"name": "Michael Fox",
"firstName": "Michael",
"lastName": "Fox",
"slug": "mfox",
"email": "foxonfilm@yahoo.com",
"display_author_email": false,
"staff_mastheads": [],
"title": "KQED Contributor",
"bio": "Michael Fox has written about film for dozens of publications since 1987. He is a founding member of the San Francisco Bay Area Film Critics Circle.",
"avatar": "https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/d9849d6c659c41414795c471d907bb97b396e2a32b88e20e6ff66f65fbdd6dcd?s=600&d=blank&r=g",
"twitter": null,
"bluesky": null,
"facebook": null,
"instagram": null,
"linkedin": null,
"sites": [
{
"site": "arts",
"roles": [
"Contributor",
"contributor"
]
}
],
"headData": {
"title": "Michael Fox | KQED",
"description": "KQED Contributor",
"ogImgSrc": "https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/d9849d6c659c41414795c471d907bb97b396e2a32b88e20e6ff66f65fbdd6dcd?s=600&d=blank&r=g",
"twImgSrc": "https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/d9849d6c659c41414795c471d907bb97b396e2a32b88e20e6ff66f65fbdd6dcd?s=600&d=blank&r=g"
},
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/author/mfox"
},
"bmarks": {
"type": "authors",
"id": "26",
"meta": {
"index": "authors_1716337520",
"id": "26",
"found": true
},
"name": "Ben Marks",
"firstName": "Ben",
"lastName": "Marks",
"slug": "bmarks",
"email": "gobenmarks@yahoo.com",
"display_author_email": false,
"staff_mastheads": [],
"title": null,
"bio": "Ben Marks is a peninsula-based writer and editor. He has covered theater, visual arts, and restaurants for numerous publications. He has also been a lobster and scallop fisherman in Maine, run a restaurant in Seattle, blown glass for Dale Chihuly, and boasts numerous other so-called accomplishments that have surprisingly little to do with the arts in the South Bay, which is his focus at KQED.org.",
"avatar": "https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/ac0075b66fea4e8075d298dafc66d269?s=600&d=blank&r=g",
"twitter": null,
"facebook": null,
"instagram": null,
"linkedin": null,
"sites": [
{
"site": "arts",
"roles": [
"Contributor",
"subscriber"
]
}
],
"headData": {
"title": "Ben Marks | KQED",
"description": null,
"ogImgSrc": "https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/ac0075b66fea4e8075d298dafc66d269?s=600&d=blank&r=g",
"twImgSrc": "https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/ac0075b66fea4e8075d298dafc66d269?s=600&d=blank&r=g"
},
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/author/bmarks"
},
"rkrouner": {
"type": "authors",
"id": "28",
"meta": {
"index": "authors_1716337520",
"id": "28",
"found": true
},
"name": "Rebecca Krouner",
"firstName": "Rebecca",
"lastName": "Krouner",
"slug": "rkrouner",
"email": "FAKE_rkrouner@kqed.org",
"display_author_email": false,
"staff_mastheads": [],
"title": null,
"bio": "Rebecca Krouner works as the content administrator for Northern California Public Broadcasting (KQED-KTEH-KQET-KQEI), helping to coordinate projects across the organization's four platforms: television, radio, interactive, and educational and community outreach. She also writes about opera for the KQED Arts & Culture blog.Rebecca has a master's degree in classical voice from Manhattan School of Music and a BA in comparative literature from Brown University. She worked at Walnut Hill School, an independent high school for the arts outside of Boston, and as a writer and course developer for a communication skills training company. Rebecca fell in love with the Bay Area during a summer opera program in San Francisco and moved here from New York City in 2005. She looks forward to continuing to explore the Bay Area's rich classical music scene.",
"avatar": "https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/5efff288d6cb03fe3679b6a75fcc63fb?s=600&d=blank&r=g",
"twitter": null,
"facebook": null,
"instagram": null,
"linkedin": null,
"sites": [
{
"site": "arts",
"roles": [
"Contributor",
"subscriber"
]
}
],
"headData": {
"title": "Rebecca Krouner | KQED",
"description": null,
"ogImgSrc": "https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/5efff288d6cb03fe3679b6a75fcc63fb?s=600&d=blank&r=g",
"twImgSrc": "https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/5efff288d6cb03fe3679b6a75fcc63fb?s=600&d=blank&r=g"
},
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/author/rkrouner"
},
"clight": {
"type": "authors",
"id": "30",
"meta": {
"index": "authors_1716337520",
"id": "30",
"found": true
},
"name": "Claire Light",
"firstName": "Claire",
"lastName": "Light",
"slug": "clight",
"email": "FAKE_clight@kqed.org",
"display_author_email": false,
"staff_mastheads": [],
"title": null,
"bio": "Claire Light is a Bay Area writer and cultural worker. She has worked for twelve years in nonprofit administration, particularly arts in the Asian American community. Her MFA in fiction came from San Francisco State University, and some of her fiction is published in \u003ci>McSweeney's\u003c/i>, \u003ci>Hyphen\u003c/i>, \u003ci>Farthing\u003c/i>, and a forthcoming issue of \u003ci>The Encyclopedia Project\u003c/i>. A chapbook of her short stories, called \u003cb>Slightly Behind and to the Left\u003c/b>, was published by Aqueduct Press last December. She has taught writing to teens, college students, and adults, and is currently teaching free writing classes through the Oakland Word program. She blogs at \u003ci>Hyphen\u003c/i> and her personal blog \"SeeLight.\"",
"avatar": "https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/102528ed8a2e7f862a86f905f41f0e2c?s=600&d=blank&r=g",
"twitter": null,
"facebook": null,
"instagram": null,
"linkedin": null,
"sites": [
{
"site": "arts",
"roles": [
"Contributor",
"subscriber"
]
}
],
"headData": {
"title": "Claire Light | KQED",
"description": null,
"ogImgSrc": "https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/102528ed8a2e7f862a86f905f41f0e2c?s=600&d=blank&r=g",
"twImgSrc": "https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/102528ed8a2e7f862a86f905f41f0e2c?s=600&d=blank&r=g"
},
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/author/clight"
},
"kqedarts": {
"type": "authors",
"id": "92",
"meta": {
"index": "authors_1716337520",
"id": "92",
"found": true
},
"name": "KQED Arts",
"firstName": "KQED",
"lastName": "Arts",
"slug": "kqedarts",
"email": "arts@kqed.org",
"display_author_email": false,
"staff_mastheads": [],
"title": "KQED Staff",
"bio": null,
"avatar": "https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/321c9ebfeb7736f9e55366a6d3399ab0?s=600&d=blank&r=g",
"twitter": null,
"facebook": null,
"instagram": "https://www.instagram.com/kqed_arts/",
"linkedin": null,
"sites": [
{
"site": "arts",
"roles": [
"contributor"
]
},
{
"site": "pop",
"roles": [
"contributor"
]
},
{
"site": "science",
"roles": [
"author"
]
},
{
"site": "food",
"roles": [
"contributor"
]
}
],
"headData": {
"title": "KQED Arts | KQED",
"description": "KQED Staff",
"ogImgSrc": "https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/321c9ebfeb7736f9e55366a6d3399ab0?s=600&d=blank&r=g",
"twImgSrc": "https://secure.gravatar.com/avatar/321c9ebfeb7736f9e55366a6d3399ab0?s=600&d=blank&r=g"
},
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/author/kqedarts"
}
},
"pagesReducer": {
"arts_category_theater": {
"type": "terms",
"id": "arts_967",
"meta": {
"index": "terms_1716263798",
"site": "arts",
"id": "967",
"score": 12.282768
},
"featImg": null,
"name": "Theater",
"description": null,
"taxonomy": "category",
"headData": {
"twImgId": null,
"twTitle": null,
"ogTitle": null,
"ogImgId": null,
"twDescription": null,
"description": null,
"title": "Theater Archives | KQED Arts",
"ogDescription": null
},
"ttid": 985,
"slug": "theater",
"isLoading": false,
"title": "Theater",
"pageMeta": {
"site": "arts",
"WpPageTemplate": "page-topic-editorial",
"currentPage": 78
},
"blocks": [
{
"blockName": "kqed/post-list",
"attrs": {
"layout": "cardArticle2",
"query": "posts/arts?category=theater",
"seeMore": false,
"paginated": true,
"page": 78
}
},
{
"blockName": "kqed/ad"
}
]
}
},
"pfsSessionReducer": {},
"postsReducer": {
"stream_live": {
"type": "live",
"id": "stream_live",
"audioUrl": "https://streams.kqed.org/kqedradio",
"title": "Live Stream",
"excerpt": "Live Stream information currently unavailable.",
"link": "/radio",
"featImg": "",
"label": {
"name": "KQED Live",
"link": "/"
}
},
"stream_kqedNewscast": {
"type": "posts",
"id": "stream_kqedNewscast",
"audioUrl": "https://www.kqed.org/.stream/anon/radio/RDnews/newscast.mp3?_=1",
"title": "KQED Newscast",
"featImg": "",
"label": {
"name": "88.5 FM",
"link": "/"
}
},
"arts_22966": {
"type": "posts",
"id": "arts_22966",
"meta": {
"index": "posts_1716263798",
"site": "arts",
"id": "22966",
"score": null,
"sort": [
1214423314000
]
},
"parent": 0,
"labelTerm": {
"site": "arts"
},
"blocks": [],
"publishDate": 1214423314,
"format": "standard",
"title": "Blasted at the Mosser Hotel",
"headTitle": "Blasted at the Mosser Hotel | KQED",
"content": "\u003cp>The play’s the thing, a sage English playwright once wrote. With due respect to Sarah Kane’s brutal, ambiguous text, and the brave cast of \u003cb>Blasted\u003c/b>, the major reasons to check out the British theatre troupe 19:29’s production at the Hotel Mosser are the location and environment.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The weirdness begins in the lobby, where the eight theatergoers privy to each performance are outfitted with black hoods cut out with eye and mouth holes. From the moment we boarded the elevator I dug being semi-anonymous, even during a steamy Thursday matinee, though I never quite grasped the point. Perhaps the hoods encourage the audience’s voyeuristic impulse, increasing our comfort level with a parade of (simulated) wankery, shagging, fellatio and buggery. Or maybe our masks were for the actors’ benefit, allowing them a hairsbreadth of distance during a 90-minute piece that unfolds in incredible (and occasionally fleeting comic) proximity in a cramped, two-room suite.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>We shuffled awkwardly around the suite, noting the double bed in one room and the gin and couch in the other, until Ian and Cate entered. We deduced they were the actors, for they weren’t wearing hoods. He’s a boozing, prematurely gray journalist; she’s a young blonde waif who, we learn, was once his girlfriend. \u003cb>Blasted\u003c/b> quickly shapes up as a tense, claustrophobic but familiar power play, with Cate fending off the husky Ian’s sexual advances. To add even more menace and mystery, Ian displays his gun, which he carries to fend off some threat lurking in the streets below, or perhaps to end his own nihilistic existence in this nondescript hotel room.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>There are obvious advantages to having the audience precede the actors into the suite, but there’s one major negative: It felt as if they had to stake out and claim the space from us. Had the actors already been in the room and in mid-conversation when we arrived, our discomfort at invading their privacy — and, eventually, witnessing their extreme vulnerability — would have been heightened.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Heightened, however, to a point that might well have been intolerable. Directors Felix Mortimer and Susanna Davies-Crook have settled on an awkward middle ground that bows to American mainstream sensibilities and protects the actors, but undercuts the premise of both the play and its hyper-intimate staging. While I have no great need to observe strangers five or seven feet away performing sexual acts — call me a pervert — it rings false to simulate such acts with the audience looking over the actors’ shoulders. You can’t go halfway without risking looking ridiculous, and losing your grip on the paying customers\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>That said, Stephanie Jane de Whalley (who I gather to be the only British member of the cast, and a veteran of 19:29’s Leeds production), and American thespians Thomas Landry (Ian) and Charles Lewis III (a soldier who barges in at the midpoint and rejiggers the power relationship to Ian’s profound sorrow), deserve a ton of credit for their courageous participation. Plenty of actors would decline to ply their craft without the unquantifiable benefits of makeup, flattering lighting, convincing sound design, an elevated stage and a safety zone.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>De Whalley’s is the standout performance, largely because she elevates Cate beyond a sweet but helpless cliché into the only character in the play whose fate we invest in. She has that delicious talent of letting every emotion scurry across her face, appearing simultaneously shy and open. Landry doesn’t create a character so much as embody an attitude; his gruffness could stand some modulating gentleness to allow us to see what Cate once and still admires in Ian. Lewis is equally unafraid to be crude and unlikable, but he comes off as more of a symbol than a three-dimensional human being.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Kudos all around, though, to my fellow audience members, who understood quicker than I that we were part of the performance. At first, we’d all bustle out of the way like tourists or roaches to accommodate an actor’s path or movement, and to seek a better vantage point. But as Ian and Cate willfully ricocheted between the two rooms, we gradually gave up any pretense of being invisible and became blatant in our repositioning. (I daresay some of Mortimer and Davies-Crook’s direction is deviously intended to increase the audience’s activity, rather than to serve the action of the play). I all but laughed out loud when one theatergoer plopped on the side of the bed (taking care not to sit on a wet spot), shamelessly and splendidly erasing the division between the actors’ space and the audience’s.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I’ve barely said a word about the content and themes of \u003cb>Blasted\u003c/b>, in part because they’re regrettably expressed without a great deal of power. The play unfolds during wartime, when the most heinous acts are necessary for survival. The original 1995 London production scandalously broached all sorts of taboos, provoking a blazing controversy among critics and audiences. In this staging, many awful things are described by the soldier, and several horrible bits are omitted.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>A caller on the room phone, once the audience is gathered and before Cate and Ian enter, cautions theatergoers who suffer from epilepsy or are uncomfortable with violence. Given the hoods and the diminutive suite, a warning might also be offered to those who suffer from claustrophobia. For everyone else, especially those of an adventurous or experimental bent, the reactions and emotions provoked by this one-of-a kind staging are well worth it.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>19:29’s production of \u003cb>Blasted\u003c/b> runs through June 29, 2008 at the Mosser Hotel, 54 Fourth St. (at Market). For \u003ca href=\"http://www.nineteentwentynine.co.uk/\" target=\"offsite\" rel=\"noopener\">tickets and information\u003c/a> visit nineteentwentynine.co.uk\u003c/p>\n\n",
"stats": {
"hasVideo": false,
"hasChartOrMap": false,
"hasAudio": false,
"hasPolis": false,
"wordCount": 991,
"hasGoogleForm": false,
"hasGallery": false,
"hasHearkenModule": false,
"iframeSrcs": [],
"paragraphCount": 13
},
"modified": 1705053083,
"excerpt": "The play's the thing, a sage English playwright once wrote. With due respect to Sarah Kane's brutal, ambiguous text, and the brave cast of \u003cb>Blasted\u003c/b>, the major reasons to check out the British theatre troupe 19:29's production at the Hotel Mosser are the location and environment.",
"headData": {
"twImgId": "",
"twTitle": "",
"ogTitle": "",
"ogImgId": "",
"twDescription": "",
"description": "The play's the thing, a sage English playwright once wrote. With due respect to Sarah Kane's brutal, ambiguous text, and the brave cast of Blasted, the major reasons to check out the British theatre troupe 19:29's production at the Hotel Mosser are the location and environment.",
"title": "Blasted at the Mosser Hotel | KQED",
"ogDescription": "",
"schema": {
"@context": "https://schema.org",
"@type": "Article",
"headline": "Blasted at the Mosser Hotel",
"datePublished": "2008-06-25T12:48:34-07:00",
"dateModified": "2024-01-12T01:51:23-08:00",
"image": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/02/KQED-OG-Image@1x.png"
}
},
"guestAuthors": [],
"slug": "blasted_at_the_mosser_hotel",
"status": "publish",
"sourceUrl": "http://www.kqed.org/arts/category/performance/performance-review/",
"sticky": false,
"path": "/arts/22966/blasted_at_the_mosser_hotel",
"audioTrackLength": null,
"parsedContent": [
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>The play’s the thing, a sage English playwright once wrote. With due respect to Sarah Kane’s brutal, ambiguous text, and the brave cast of \u003cb>Blasted\u003c/b>, the major reasons to check out the British theatre troupe 19:29’s production at the Hotel Mosser are the location and environment.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The weirdness begins in the lobby, where the eight theatergoers privy to each performance are outfitted with black hoods cut out with eye and mouth holes. From the moment we boarded the elevator I dug being semi-anonymous, even during a steamy Thursday matinee, though I never quite grasped the point. Perhaps the hoods encourage the audience’s voyeuristic impulse, increasing our comfort level with a parade of (simulated) wankery, shagging, fellatio and buggery. Or maybe our masks were for the actors’ benefit, allowing them a hairsbreadth of distance during a 90-minute piece that unfolds in incredible (and occasionally fleeting comic) proximity in a cramped, two-room suite.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>We shuffled awkwardly around the suite, noting the double bed in one room and the gin and couch in the other, until Ian and Cate entered. We deduced they were the actors, for they weren’t wearing hoods. He’s a boozing, prematurely gray journalist; she’s a young blonde waif who, we learn, was once his girlfriend. \u003cb>Blasted\u003c/b> quickly shapes up as a tense, claustrophobic but familiar power play, with Cate fending off the husky Ian’s sexual advances. To add even more menace and mystery, Ian displays his gun, which he carries to fend off some threat lurking in the streets below, or perhaps to end his own nihilistic existence in this nondescript hotel room.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>There are obvious advantages to having the audience precede the actors into the suite, but there’s one major negative: It felt as if they had to stake out and claim the space from us. Had the actors already been in the room and in mid-conversation when we arrived, our discomfort at invading their privacy — and, eventually, witnessing their extreme vulnerability — would have been heightened.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Heightened, however, to a point that might well have been intolerable. Directors Felix Mortimer and Susanna Davies-Crook have settled on an awkward middle ground that bows to American mainstream sensibilities and protects the actors, but undercuts the premise of both the play and its hyper-intimate staging. While I have no great need to observe strangers five or seven feet away performing sexual acts — call me a pervert — it rings false to simulate such acts with the audience looking over the actors’ shoulders. You can’t go halfway without risking looking ridiculous, and losing your grip on the paying customers\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "ad",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": "fullwidth"
},
"numeric": [
"fullwidth"
]
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>That said, Stephanie Jane de Whalley (who I gather to be the only British member of the cast, and a veteran of 19:29’s Leeds production), and American thespians Thomas Landry (Ian) and Charles Lewis III (a soldier who barges in at the midpoint and rejiggers the power relationship to Ian’s profound sorrow), deserve a ton of credit for their courageous participation. Plenty of actors would decline to ply their craft without the unquantifiable benefits of makeup, flattering lighting, convincing sound design, an elevated stage and a safety zone.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>De Whalley’s is the standout performance, largely because she elevates Cate beyond a sweet but helpless cliché into the only character in the play whose fate we invest in. She has that delicious talent of letting every emotion scurry across her face, appearing simultaneously shy and open. Landry doesn’t create a character so much as embody an attitude; his gruffness could stand some modulating gentleness to allow us to see what Cate once and still admires in Ian. Lewis is equally unafraid to be crude and unlikable, but he comes off as more of a symbol than a three-dimensional human being.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Kudos all around, though, to my fellow audience members, who understood quicker than I that we were part of the performance. At first, we’d all bustle out of the way like tourists or roaches to accommodate an actor’s path or movement, and to seek a better vantage point. But as Ian and Cate willfully ricocheted between the two rooms, we gradually gave up any pretense of being invisible and became blatant in our repositioning. (I daresay some of Mortimer and Davies-Crook’s direction is deviously intended to increase the audience’s activity, rather than to serve the action of the play). I all but laughed out loud when one theatergoer plopped on the side of the bed (taking care not to sit on a wet spot), shamelessly and splendidly erasing the division between the actors’ space and the audience’s.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I’ve barely said a word about the content and themes of \u003cb>Blasted\u003c/b>, in part because they’re regrettably expressed without a great deal of power. The play unfolds during wartime, when the most heinous acts are necessary for survival. The original 1995 London production scandalously broached all sorts of taboos, provoking a blazing controversy among critics and audiences. In this staging, many awful things are described by the soldier, and several horrible bits are omitted.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>A caller on the room phone, once the audience is gathered and before Cate and Ian enter, cautions theatergoers who suffer from epilepsy or are uncomfortable with violence. Given the hoods and the diminutive suite, a warning might also be offered to those who suffer from claustrophobia. For everyone else, especially those of an adventurous or experimental bent, the reactions and emotions provoked by this one-of-a kind staging are well worth it.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>19:29’s production of \u003cb>Blasted\u003c/b> runs through June 29, 2008 at the Mosser Hotel, 54 Fourth St. (at Market). For \u003ca href=\"http://www.nineteentwentynine.co.uk/\" target=\"offsite\" rel=\"noopener\">tickets and information\u003c/a> visit nineteentwentynine.co.uk\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
}
],
"link": "/arts/22966/blasted_at_the_mosser_hotel",
"authors": [
"22"
],
"categories": [
"arts_967"
],
"featImg": "arts_10022966",
"label": "arts"
},
"arts_22887": {
"type": "posts",
"id": "arts_22887",
"meta": {
"index": "posts_1716263798",
"site": "arts",
"id": "22887",
"score": null,
"sort": [
1213309683000
]
},
"parent": 0,
"labelTerm": {
"site": "arts"
},
"blocks": [],
"publishDate": 1213309683,
"format": "standard",
"title": "Tis Pity She's a Whore",
"headTitle": "Tis Pity She’s a Whore | KQED",
"content": "\u003cp>The title design for American Conservatory Theatre’s \u003cb>Tis Pity She’s A Whore\u003c/b> includes a bloody sword. It’s a warning to the squeamish, you may want to cover your eyes before the play’s horrific climax.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But then you’d miss \u003cb>Tis Pity\u003c/b>‘s extraordinary take on \u003cb>Romeo and Juliet\u003c/b> plus incest. And that would be a shame. Playwright John Ford tells his tale like a 17th-century take on Freudian drama, then packs it with plot twists, pulp romance, soap opera, swordfights and stabbings, and vaudeville slapstick. Director Carey Perloff keeps this stew boiling fiercely for 2 hours and 45 minutes, and tosses in a live score provided by composer and cellist Bonfire Madigan Shive.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>John Ford wrote after Shakespeare and was among the last of the Jacobeans, staging plays just before the English Civil War shuttered all theatres. Director Carey Perloff (ACT’s Artistic Director) says she was intrigued by the society \u003cb>Tis Pity\u003c/b> presents, one where civil, clerical and moral authority have broken down. But she doesn’t miss the lurid story that delivers the message.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In Parma, Annabella (Rene Augeson, an ACT core member) is besieged by suitors, good prospects and ludicrous. But she loses her heart to her brother Giovanni (Tony Award-winner Michael Hayden — what a hottie). Ford gives Giovanni a passionately eloquent love soliloquy. It’s so wrong, but he makes it sound so right.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Ford is a master of the 17th-century pick-up line. Annabella succumbs to Giovanni with the words, “Thou hast won the field and never fought.” It’s the Jacobean equivalent of “You had me at hello.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Ford makes heroes of these lovers, even as we know they’re doomed. And Director Perloff makes it easy to fall for them. She lights them from below as if they’re angels, as brother and sister make love on a lightbox of a bed. (But it’s so wrong!)\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The two are no match, though, for the schemes of the servant Vasquez, played brilliantly by Anthony Fusco. He insures that the spirited sword play and sexual romps of Act 1 are followed by poisoned daggers and bloody vengeance in Act 2.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Bonfire Madigan Shive hums and plays her cello throughout from a platform hovering above the stage. This Bay Area art music explorer, a kind of Laurie Anderson with strings, accompanies the lovers with singing tones that turn queasier and more manic as the drama proceeds.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Director Perloff has a weakness for melodrama. And the play’s action sometimes teeters into parody. But it’s a guilty pleasure. Almost everything works to boost the emotional and sexual temperature in this hothouse play. Only the set, by Walt Spangler, seems over the top. He’s designed a bizarre orgy of stylesm building a kind of church out of industrial stairways, organ pipes, and what look like curtains of Christmas ball ornaments.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Perloff and playwright Ford finish \u003cb>Tis Pity She’s A Whore\u003c/b> with a strong feminist slant and a sharp attack on clerical authority. But in the end, audiences may not retrain much of those themes. They’ll be left too breathless by the bloody way Ford concludes his lover’s tale of murder and suicide.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>Tis Pity She’s a Whore\u003c/b> runs through July 6, 2008. For \u003ca href=\"http://www.act-sf.org/tispity/index.html\" target=\"offsite\" rel=\"noopener\">tickets and information\u003c/a> visit act=sf.org.\u003c/p>\n\n",
"stats": {
"hasVideo": false,
"hasChartOrMap": false,
"hasAudio": false,
"hasPolis": false,
"wordCount": 583,
"hasGoogleForm": false,
"hasGallery": false,
"hasHearkenModule": false,
"iframeSrcs": [],
"paragraphCount": 13
},
"modified": 1705053101,
"excerpt": "The title design for American Conservatory Theatre's \u003cb>Tis Pity She's A Whore\u003c/b> includes a bloody sword. It's a warning to the squeamish, you may want to cover your eyes before the play's horrific climax.",
"headData": {
"twImgId": "",
"twTitle": "",
"ogTitle": "",
"ogImgId": "",
"twDescription": "",
"description": "The title design for American Conservatory Theatre's Tis Pity She's A Whore includes a bloody sword. It's a warning to the squeamish, you may want to cover your eyes before the play's horrific climax.",
"title": "Tis Pity She's a Whore | KQED",
"ogDescription": "",
"schema": {
"@context": "https://schema.org",
"@type": "Article",
"headline": "Tis Pity She's a Whore",
"datePublished": "2008-06-12T15:28:03-07:00",
"dateModified": "2024-01-12T01:51:41-08:00",
"image": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/02/KQED-OG-Image@1x.png"
}
},
"guestAuthors": [],
"slug": "tis_pity_shes_a_whore",
"status": "publish",
"sourceUrl": "http://www.kqed.org/arts/category/performance/performance-review/",
"sticky": false,
"path": "/arts/22887/tis_pity_shes_a_whore",
"audioTrackLength": null,
"parsedContent": [
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>The title design for American Conservatory Theatre’s \u003cb>Tis Pity She’s A Whore\u003c/b> includes a bloody sword. It’s a warning to the squeamish, you may want to cover your eyes before the play’s horrific climax.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But then you’d miss \u003cb>Tis Pity\u003c/b>‘s extraordinary take on \u003cb>Romeo and Juliet\u003c/b> plus incest. And that would be a shame. Playwright John Ford tells his tale like a 17th-century take on Freudian drama, then packs it with plot twists, pulp romance, soap opera, swordfights and stabbings, and vaudeville slapstick. Director Carey Perloff keeps this stew boiling fiercely for 2 hours and 45 minutes, and tosses in a live score provided by composer and cellist Bonfire Madigan Shive.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>John Ford wrote after Shakespeare and was among the last of the Jacobeans, staging plays just before the English Civil War shuttered all theatres. Director Carey Perloff (ACT’s Artistic Director) says she was intrigued by the society \u003cb>Tis Pity\u003c/b> presents, one where civil, clerical and moral authority have broken down. But she doesn’t miss the lurid story that delivers the message.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In Parma, Annabella (Rene Augeson, an ACT core member) is besieged by suitors, good prospects and ludicrous. But she loses her heart to her brother Giovanni (Tony Award-winner Michael Hayden — what a hottie). Ford gives Giovanni a passionately eloquent love soliloquy. It’s so wrong, but he makes it sound so right.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Ford is a master of the 17th-century pick-up line. Annabella succumbs to Giovanni with the words, “Thou hast won the field and never fought.” It’s the Jacobean equivalent of “You had me at hello.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "ad",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": "fullwidth"
},
"numeric": [
"fullwidth"
]
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Ford makes heroes of these lovers, even as we know they’re doomed. And Director Perloff makes it easy to fall for them. She lights them from below as if they’re angels, as brother and sister make love on a lightbox of a bed. (But it’s so wrong!)\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The two are no match, though, for the schemes of the servant Vasquez, played brilliantly by Anthony Fusco. He insures that the spirited sword play and sexual romps of Act 1 are followed by poisoned daggers and bloody vengeance in Act 2.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Bonfire Madigan Shive hums and plays her cello throughout from a platform hovering above the stage. This Bay Area art music explorer, a kind of Laurie Anderson with strings, accompanies the lovers with singing tones that turn queasier and more manic as the drama proceeds.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Director Perloff has a weakness for melodrama. And the play’s action sometimes teeters into parody. But it’s a guilty pleasure. Almost everything works to boost the emotional and sexual temperature in this hothouse play. Only the set, by Walt Spangler, seems over the top. He’s designed a bizarre orgy of stylesm building a kind of church out of industrial stairways, organ pipes, and what look like curtains of Christmas ball ornaments.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Perloff and playwright Ford finish \u003cb>Tis Pity She’s A Whore\u003c/b> with a strong feminist slant and a sharp attack on clerical authority. But in the end, audiences may not retrain much of those themes. They’ll be left too breathless by the bloody way Ford concludes his lover’s tale of murder and suicide.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>Tis Pity She’s a Whore\u003c/b> runs through July 6, 2008. For \u003ca href=\"http://www.act-sf.org/tispity/index.html\" target=\"offsite\" rel=\"noopener\">tickets and information\u003c/a> visit act=sf.org.\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
}
],
"link": "/arts/22887/tis_pity_shes_a_whore",
"authors": [
"163"
],
"categories": [
"arts_967"
],
"featImg": "arts_10022887",
"label": "arts"
},
"arts_22867": {
"type": "posts",
"id": "arts_22867",
"meta": {
"index": "posts_1716263798",
"site": "arts",
"id": "22867",
"score": null,
"sort": [
1212797486000
]
},
"parent": 0,
"labelTerm": {
"site": "arts"
},
"blocks": [],
"publishDate": 1212797486,
"format": "standard",
"title": "SF Opera: Das Rheingold",
"headTitle": "SF Opera: Das Rheingold | KQED",
"content": "\u003cp>Opera lovers have long wondered about the fuss over Tolkien’s \u003cb>The Lord of the Rings\u003c/b>. Almost a century earlier, Richard Wagner wrote four epic operas in which he told the story of a golden ring that grants great power, but corrupts all who wear it.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Now audiences in San Francisco can see if Francesca Zambello’s American-themed \u003cb>Ring of the Nibelung\u003c/b> is worth all the fuss.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>On Tuesday, the San Francisco Opera premiered Zambello’s first installment, \u003cb>Das Rheingold\u003c/b>, part one of the four-part cycle. The singing was mostly wonderful, but it’s not clear yet, whether Zambello can meld American themes to Wagner’s version of Norse and Germanic myth.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Some ideas connect brilliantly. The dwarf Alberich, the Nibelung, comes on stage dressed like a California 49er, toting a pan and pickaxe. The three Rhinemaidens wear girdles and bloomers, like dance hall girls, as they guard their golden hoard in a landscape that seems equal parts Ansel Adams and Albert Bierstadt. Later Alberich guards his treasure at the bottom of a mine, cracking his whip to drive a crew of child miners.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Wotan, chief of the gods, dresses like an industrial magnate, in an office that seems vaguely Art Deco, though the spear seems an odd touch for the boardroom. He’s willing to sacrifice his sister-in-law, Freia, and his honor, if he can trick the giants into building his fortress Valhalla (or are they laying the foundations for an American empire?). The giants (and they really are giants — great costumes by Catherine Zuber) are ironworkers. They make their entrance seated on a steel I-beam, descending from a sky filled with cranes and girders. But Freia’s brothers, Donner and Froh, come off as idle playboys, bearing croquet mallets. They’re more Oscar Wilde than Sinclair Lewis.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>And it’s not clear what Roger Hartley, the production designer, has in mind when he projects a planetarium slideshow on a scrim during Wagner’s long, darkly lush overture. I loved the shot of Saturn and its rings, but I’m baffled at how it serves Zambello’s American theme. Projections of boiling clouds and trippy light shows follow during scene changes to equally spectacular but puzzling effect.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Still, if the metaphor doesn’t hang together, the opera cooks along, despite its two hour 35 minute running time, without intermission (as tradition demands). Give lots of credit for that to Zambello’s smart direction and the cast’s fine performances.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Baritone Richard Paul Fink steals the show as Alberich, combining potent singing with a brilliant physical perfomance that must be exhausting. Tenor Stefan Margita sings the part of Loge with effortless command of the stage. He plays the trickster god as a political fixer with oily assurance.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Jennifer Larmore brings a silky tone to the role of Fricka, Wotan’s wife.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Catherine Cangiano, Lauren McNeese and Buffy Baggott (all making their San Francisco Opera debut) are a very sexy trio as the Rhinemaidens, teasing Alberich with their lusty promises.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Baritone and former Adler fellow, Mark Delavan, seemed stiff and unsure in his debut in the central role of Wotan. But he hits all his notes, and may relax into the part for future performances.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Conductor Donald Runnicles holds it all together from the pit, never flagging despite the heavy lifting demanded by Wagner’s rich score.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Maybe Zambello will clarify her American themes as the \u003cb>Ring\u003c/b> cycle continues. The company presents \u003cb>Die Walkuere\u003c/b> (or Walküre) in 2010, and the entire cycle in 2011. \u003cb>Das Rheingold\u003c/b>‘s final scene presents Wotan and the other gods climbing the rainbow bridge to their fortress in Valhalla. The bridge, however, looks more like the gangplank of a ship. If Zambello can’t make this work, we may remember the scene as the gods boarding the Titanic.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>Das Rheingold\u003c/b> runs through June 28, 2008 at the San Francisco Opera. For \u003ca href=\"http://sfopera.com/opera.asp?o=258\" target=\"offsite\" rel=\"noopener\">tickets and information\u003c/a> visit sfopera.com.\u003c/p>\n\n",
"stats": {
"hasVideo": false,
"hasChartOrMap": false,
"hasAudio": false,
"hasPolis": false,
"wordCount": 680,
"hasGoogleForm": false,
"hasGallery": false,
"hasHearkenModule": false,
"iframeSrcs": [],
"paragraphCount": 16
},
"modified": 1705053104,
"excerpt": "Opera lovers have long wondered about the fuss over Tolkien's \u003cb>The Lord of the Rings\u003c/b>. Almost a century earlier, Richard Wagner wrote four epic operas in which he told the story of a golden ring that grants great power, but corrupts all who wear it.",
"headData": {
"twImgId": "",
"twTitle": "",
"ogTitle": "",
"ogImgId": "",
"twDescription": "",
"description": "Opera lovers have long wondered about the fuss over Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings. Almost a century earlier, Richard Wagner wrote four epic operas in which he told the story of a golden ring that grants great power, but corrupts all who wear it.",
"title": "SF Opera: Das Rheingold | KQED",
"ogDescription": "",
"schema": {
"@context": "https://schema.org",
"@type": "Article",
"headline": "SF Opera: Das Rheingold",
"datePublished": "2008-06-06T17:11:26-07:00",
"dateModified": "2024-01-12T01:51:44-08:00",
"image": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/02/KQED-OG-Image@1x.png"
}
},
"guestAuthors": [],
"slug": "sf_opera_das_rheingold",
"status": "publish",
"sourceUrl": "http://www.kqed.org/arts/category/performance/performance-review/",
"sticky": false,
"path": "/arts/22867/sf_opera_das_rheingold",
"audioTrackLength": null,
"parsedContent": [
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>Opera lovers have long wondered about the fuss over Tolkien’s \u003cb>The Lord of the Rings\u003c/b>. Almost a century earlier, Richard Wagner wrote four epic operas in which he told the story of a golden ring that grants great power, but corrupts all who wear it.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Now audiences in San Francisco can see if Francesca Zambello’s American-themed \u003cb>Ring of the Nibelung\u003c/b> is worth all the fuss.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>On Tuesday, the San Francisco Opera premiered Zambello’s first installment, \u003cb>Das Rheingold\u003c/b>, part one of the four-part cycle. The singing was mostly wonderful, but it’s not clear yet, whether Zambello can meld American themes to Wagner’s version of Norse and Germanic myth.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Some ideas connect brilliantly. The dwarf Alberich, the Nibelung, comes on stage dressed like a California 49er, toting a pan and pickaxe. The three Rhinemaidens wear girdles and bloomers, like dance hall girls, as they guard their golden hoard in a landscape that seems equal parts Ansel Adams and Albert Bierstadt. Later Alberich guards his treasure at the bottom of a mine, cracking his whip to drive a crew of child miners.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Wotan, chief of the gods, dresses like an industrial magnate, in an office that seems vaguely Art Deco, though the spear seems an odd touch for the boardroom. He’s willing to sacrifice his sister-in-law, Freia, and his honor, if he can trick the giants into building his fortress Valhalla (or are they laying the foundations for an American empire?). The giants (and they really are giants — great costumes by Catherine Zuber) are ironworkers. They make their entrance seated on a steel I-beam, descending from a sky filled with cranes and girders. But Freia’s brothers, Donner and Froh, come off as idle playboys, bearing croquet mallets. They’re more Oscar Wilde than Sinclair Lewis.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "ad",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": "fullwidth"
},
"numeric": [
"fullwidth"
]
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>And it’s not clear what Roger Hartley, the production designer, has in mind when he projects a planetarium slideshow on a scrim during Wagner’s long, darkly lush overture. I loved the shot of Saturn and its rings, but I’m baffled at how it serves Zambello’s American theme. Projections of boiling clouds and trippy light shows follow during scene changes to equally spectacular but puzzling effect.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Still, if the metaphor doesn’t hang together, the opera cooks along, despite its two hour 35 minute running time, without intermission (as tradition demands). Give lots of credit for that to Zambello’s smart direction and the cast’s fine performances.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Baritone Richard Paul Fink steals the show as Alberich, combining potent singing with a brilliant physical perfomance that must be exhausting. Tenor Stefan Margita sings the part of Loge with effortless command of the stage. He plays the trickster god as a political fixer with oily assurance.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Jennifer Larmore brings a silky tone to the role of Fricka, Wotan’s wife.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Catherine Cangiano, Lauren McNeese and Buffy Baggott (all making their San Francisco Opera debut) are a very sexy trio as the Rhinemaidens, teasing Alberich with their lusty promises.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Baritone and former Adler fellow, Mark Delavan, seemed stiff and unsure in his debut in the central role of Wotan. But he hits all his notes, and may relax into the part for future performances.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Conductor Donald Runnicles holds it all together from the pit, never flagging despite the heavy lifting demanded by Wagner’s rich score.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Maybe Zambello will clarify her American themes as the \u003cb>Ring\u003c/b> cycle continues. The company presents \u003cb>Die Walkuere\u003c/b> (or Walküre) in 2010, and the entire cycle in 2011. \u003cb>Das Rheingold\u003c/b>‘s final scene presents Wotan and the other gods climbing the rainbow bridge to their fortress in Valhalla. The bridge, however, looks more like the gangplank of a ship. If Zambello can’t make this work, we may remember the scene as the gods boarding the Titanic.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>Das Rheingold\u003c/b> runs through June 28, 2008 at the San Francisco Opera. For \u003ca href=\"http://sfopera.com/opera.asp?o=258\" target=\"offsite\" rel=\"noopener\">tickets and information\u003c/a> visit sfopera.com.\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
}
],
"link": "/arts/22867/sf_opera_das_rheingold",
"authors": [
"163"
],
"categories": [
"arts_69",
"arts_967"
],
"featImg": "arts_10022867",
"label": "arts"
},
"arts_22843": {
"type": "posts",
"id": "arts_22843",
"meta": {
"index": "posts_1716263798",
"site": "arts",
"id": "22843",
"score": null,
"sort": [
1212609481000
]
},
"parent": 0,
"labelTerm": {
"site": "arts"
},
"blocks": [],
"publishDate": 1212609481,
"format": "standard",
"title": "Gross Indecency",
"headTitle": "Gross Indecency | KQED",
"content": "\u003cp>The tone of theatre Q’s production of \u003cb>Gross Indecency: The Three Trials of Oscar Wilde\u003c/b> by Moisès Kaufman, which runs through June 22 at Palo Alto’s Dragon Theatre, is set even before the play begins. As the actors take the monochromatic stage, blank books stacked in piles and strewn about on tables, we are informed by one actor after another that there will be a 15-minute intermission, that snacks and drinks are available in the lobby for a dollar, and, yes, that it would be very nice, indeed, if we could all please turn off our cell phones. For the next couple of hours, the actors share narration duties in the same sort of way, as they collectively weave the story of Oscar Wilde’s fall from grace in the spring of 1895.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>That February, Wilde had two popular plays running simultaneously in London’s West End, including \u003cb>The Importance of Being Earnest\u003c/b>, which, coincidentally, runs through June 21 at Bus Barn Stage Company in Los Altos (\u003ca href=\"http://www.kqed.org/arts/performance/index.jsp?id=22815\">see review\u003c/a>). By the end of May \u003cb>Earnest\u003c/b> had been shut down, Wilde’s property had been seized and auctioned, and Wilde himself would be in prison for the crime of gratifying himself sexually with other males.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Kaufman uses trial transcripts, news accounts of the day, letters, biographies, and memoirs as source material for his intelligent and engaging play. As actors recite these texts, sometimes interrupting one another, the experience is less like attending an evening of dramatic theater — although there are certainly dramatic moments — than a fascinating lecture by not one but nine intensely captivating speakers. Thanks in no small part to director George Quick’s creative hand and smart choices for his actors, it was one of the most compelling evenings of theater I’ve experienced in a long time.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The play’s central theme concerns art and morality, specifically, whether art must be moral in order to be considered art at all. The mores of the time argued that it must be so, but Wilde places the notion of art and the human impulse to make, take pleasure in, and admire beauty above the dull and hypocritical strictures of British society. No book can be immoral, he testifies, if it is well written. Bad writing is the greater crime. Style trumping content, we might huff today, but Wilde appears to have sincerely believed that beauty and pleasure were immensely valuable aspects of life. If it feels good, he might have said had he been born in 1960’s London, when the laws that imprisoned him were finally overturned, do it.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Four narrators take us through the events of the spring of 1895 and a few years thereafter (prison was too much for Wilde; he died on November 30, 1900). At various points in the play, Matthew Lowe, Kevin Hsieh, Thomas Azar, and Patrick Hilt are judge, jury, George Bernard Shaw, and four young men brought before the court to confess their sexual liaisons with Wilde (three do). Presented to us as opportunistic naughty boys in black stockings, shorts, and suspenders, their salacious presence is meant to make us struggle with the play’s other central theme: the morality of the artist himself, whose arrogant belief that he could lie in court about his affairs strikes today’s theatergoer as hopelessly naive. He must have been one of those elites we keep hearing about in the current political contest, who thought the rules didn’t apply to him.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>At the center of the piece is John T. Aney as Oscar Wilde. Aney plays Wilde for all he’s worth, his mocking condescension and easy self confidence flooding over us in Act I, his broken despair kicking us in the guts in Act II. Aney is terrific, and he’s supported by the equally watchable Michael Moerman, whose Queensbury fairly spits with fury at the thought of this horrible, immoral man consorting with his son, Lord Alfred Douglas, whose steely love for Wilde is disquietingly self-righteous in the hands of Scott Ludwig.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Balancing the three protagonists is Kevin Copps, who is wonderful as Wilde’s skilful-but-pragmatic attorney, and Frederik Goris, who is sympathetic and engaging as Queensbury’s first defender. The back and forth between Aney’s Wilde and Goris’s Carson is one of the many high points of the piece. In one scene, Wilde’s self confidence gets the best of him, causing him to mistake the patient Carson for a chum he could confide in. Alas for Oscar Wilde, open court turned out not to be a very good place for the truth, either.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>Gross Indecency: The Three Trials of Oscar Wilde\u003c/b> runs at theatre Q through June 22, 2008. 535 Alma Street, Palo Alto. Tickets are $15-$25. For \u003ca href=\"http://tix.theatrebayarea.org/ticketing/showdates.php?domain=BOOTH&s_id=588'\" target=\"offsite\" rel=\"noopener\">tickets and information\u003c/a> visit theatrebayarea.org or call 415-433-1235.\u003c/p>\n\n",
"stats": {
"hasVideo": false,
"hasChartOrMap": false,
"hasAudio": false,
"hasPolis": false,
"wordCount": 833,
"hasGoogleForm": false,
"hasGallery": false,
"hasHearkenModule": false,
"iframeSrcs": [],
"paragraphCount": 10
},
"modified": 1705053109,
"excerpt": "The tone of theatre Q's production of \u003cb>Gross Indecency: The Three Trials of Oscar Wilde\u003c/b> by Moisès Kaufman, which runs through June 22 at Palo Alto's Dragon Theatre, is set even before the play begins.",
"headData": {
"twImgId": "",
"twTitle": "",
"ogTitle": "",
"ogImgId": "",
"twDescription": "",
"description": "The tone of theatre Q's production of Gross Indecency: The Three Trials of Oscar Wilde by Moisès Kaufman, which runs through June 22 at Palo Alto's Dragon Theatre, is set even before the play begins.",
"title": "Gross Indecency | KQED",
"ogDescription": "",
"schema": {
"@context": "https://schema.org",
"@type": "Article",
"headline": "Gross Indecency",
"datePublished": "2008-06-04T12:58:01-07:00",
"dateModified": "2024-01-12T01:51:49-08:00",
"image": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/02/KQED-OG-Image@1x.png"
}
},
"guestAuthors": [],
"slug": "gross_indecency",
"status": "publish",
"sourceUrl": "http://www.kqed.org/arts/category/performance/performance-review/",
"sticky": false,
"path": "/arts/22843/gross_indecency",
"audioTrackLength": null,
"parsedContent": [
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>The tone of theatre Q’s production of \u003cb>Gross Indecency: The Three Trials of Oscar Wilde\u003c/b> by Moisès Kaufman, which runs through June 22 at Palo Alto’s Dragon Theatre, is set even before the play begins. As the actors take the monochromatic stage, blank books stacked in piles and strewn about on tables, we are informed by one actor after another that there will be a 15-minute intermission, that snacks and drinks are available in the lobby for a dollar, and, yes, that it would be very nice, indeed, if we could all please turn off our cell phones. For the next couple of hours, the actors share narration duties in the same sort of way, as they collectively weave the story of Oscar Wilde’s fall from grace in the spring of 1895.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>That February, Wilde had two popular plays running simultaneously in London’s West End, including \u003cb>The Importance of Being Earnest\u003c/b>, which, coincidentally, runs through June 21 at Bus Barn Stage Company in Los Altos (\u003ca href=\"http://www.kqed.org/arts/performance/index.jsp?id=22815\">see review\u003c/a>). By the end of May \u003cb>Earnest\u003c/b> had been shut down, Wilde’s property had been seized and auctioned, and Wilde himself would be in prison for the crime of gratifying himself sexually with other males.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Kaufman uses trial transcripts, news accounts of the day, letters, biographies, and memoirs as source material for his intelligent and engaging play. As actors recite these texts, sometimes interrupting one another, the experience is less like attending an evening of dramatic theater — although there are certainly dramatic moments — than a fascinating lecture by not one but nine intensely captivating speakers. Thanks in no small part to director George Quick’s creative hand and smart choices for his actors, it was one of the most compelling evenings of theater I’ve experienced in a long time.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The play’s central theme concerns art and morality, specifically, whether art must be moral in order to be considered art at all. The mores of the time argued that it must be so, but Wilde places the notion of art and the human impulse to make, take pleasure in, and admire beauty above the dull and hypocritical strictures of British society. No book can be immoral, he testifies, if it is well written. Bad writing is the greater crime. Style trumping content, we might huff today, but Wilde appears to have sincerely believed that beauty and pleasure were immensely valuable aspects of life. If it feels good, he might have said had he been born in 1960’s London, when the laws that imprisoned him were finally overturned, do it.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Four narrators take us through the events of the spring of 1895 and a few years thereafter (prison was too much for Wilde; he died on November 30, 1900). At various points in the play, Matthew Lowe, Kevin Hsieh, Thomas Azar, and Patrick Hilt are judge, jury, George Bernard Shaw, and four young men brought before the court to confess their sexual liaisons with Wilde (three do). Presented to us as opportunistic naughty boys in black stockings, shorts, and suspenders, their salacious presence is meant to make us struggle with the play’s other central theme: the morality of the artist himself, whose arrogant belief that he could lie in court about his affairs strikes today’s theatergoer as hopelessly naive. He must have been one of those elites we keep hearing about in the current political contest, who thought the rules didn’t apply to him.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "ad",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": "fullwidth"
},
"numeric": [
"fullwidth"
]
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>At the center of the piece is John T. Aney as Oscar Wilde. Aney plays Wilde for all he’s worth, his mocking condescension and easy self confidence flooding over us in Act I, his broken despair kicking us in the guts in Act II. Aney is terrific, and he’s supported by the equally watchable Michael Moerman, whose Queensbury fairly spits with fury at the thought of this horrible, immoral man consorting with his son, Lord Alfred Douglas, whose steely love for Wilde is disquietingly self-righteous in the hands of Scott Ludwig.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Balancing the three protagonists is Kevin Copps, who is wonderful as Wilde’s skilful-but-pragmatic attorney, and Frederik Goris, who is sympathetic and engaging as Queensbury’s first defender. The back and forth between Aney’s Wilde and Goris’s Carson is one of the many high points of the piece. In one scene, Wilde’s self confidence gets the best of him, causing him to mistake the patient Carson for a chum he could confide in. Alas for Oscar Wilde, open court turned out not to be a very good place for the truth, either.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>Gross Indecency: The Three Trials of Oscar Wilde\u003c/b> runs at theatre Q through June 22, 2008. 535 Alma Street, Palo Alto. Tickets are $15-$25. For \u003ca href=\"http://tix.theatrebayarea.org/ticketing/showdates.php?domain=BOOTH&s_id=588'\" target=\"offsite\" rel=\"noopener\">tickets and information\u003c/a> visit theatrebayarea.org or call 415-433-1235.\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
}
],
"link": "/arts/22843/gross_indecency",
"authors": [
"26"
],
"categories": [
"arts_967"
],
"label": "arts"
},
"arts_22815": {
"type": "posts",
"id": "arts_22815",
"meta": {
"index": "posts_1716263798",
"site": "arts",
"id": "22815",
"score": null,
"sort": [
1212460430000
]
},
"parent": 0,
"labelTerm": {
"site": "arts"
},
"blocks": [],
"publishDate": 1212460430,
"format": "standard",
"title": "The Importance of Being Earnest",
"headTitle": "The Importance of Being Earnest | KQED",
"content": "\u003cp>It’s Oscar Wilde season on the peninsula, thanks to overlapping performances of Wilde’s \u003cb>The Importance of Being Earnest\u003c/b>, though June 21, 2008 at Bus Barn Stage Company in Los Altos, and theatre Q’s production of \u003cb>Gross Indecency: The Three Trials of Oscar Wilde\u003c/b>, by Moises Kaufman, May 31 through June 22, 2008, at the Dragon Theatre in Palo Alto. I’ve decided to see them both and report back on what’s what.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Wilde’s last play,\u003cb>The Importance of Being Earnest\u003c/b> opened in London on Valentine’s Day in 1895. Just a little more than three months later, Wilde’s three trials would be over and he would be in prison for “gross indecency” (the formal charge for being a homosexual, which was then illegal in England).\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>You would never know that the play being performed at Bus Barn was written by a man whose reputation — for his time, anyway — was so notorious. Despite its clever dialogue, appealingly jaundiced world view, and embrace of the absurd used to mock the rituals of high society and the wealthy, \u003cb>Earnest\u003c/b> seems a creaky bit of theater in 2008. It’s populated by privileged young men falling in love with costumed younger women they barely know. To insure the requisite level of on-stage antics and confusion, each man has invented a fake friend or brother to perpetuate flimsy deceptions used to woo and/or delude their female prey. The audience can see their exposure coming a mile away. In short, the play is silly, charming, fluff. Apparently \u003cb>Earnest\u003c/b> is riddled with inside jokes and references that the keen 1895 theatergoer might have pieced together to discern Wilde’s sexuality and private life. But in 2008, it is only one actor’s uncontrollable appetite for cucumber sandwiches that raises an eyebrow.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>A visible lack of said sandwiches is actually one of the many problems with the current Bus Barn production — for the record, we are told that a fresh supply of cucumber sandwiches has just been made special for a guest, but there are so few of them on the prop serving plate that when the host devours the lot of them, we can’t discern any difference in the size of the non-existent pile, which effectively kills the gag. Sandwiches aside, the play suffers from uninspired direction, melodramatic acting, implausible costumes, and a general lethargy that undermines what should be a hilarious, raucous, bawdy, and irreverent farce. My recollection is that the actors tended to stand around a lot, invariably planting themselves in pairs at the edge of the stage to recite their lines, which Wilde wrote as dialogue, directly to the audience. Ugh.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But this is Wilde, so words gallop to our rescue time and again. The fun begins with the play’s first two lines, when Algernon (an overwrought Jeff Clarke, whose performance teeters on parody), rises from his piano bench and asks his butler (John Baldwin, channeling Droopy Dog) “Did you hear what I was playing, Lane?” “I didn’t think it polite to listen, sir” is Lane’s dry-as-dust reply. Presumably the Lane character was being sincere, if ironic, about the expectations of his position and place in society at the close of the 19th century. But in the current context, in which no creative outburst is too minor to merit its own blog or YouTube video, Lane’s inattentiveness and lack of interest is refreshing.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>One of the play’s chief appeals is Wilde’s decision to put his observations on life and art into the mouths of numerous characters, rather than just one. Thus, early on, after Earnest (terrifically played by John Romano) chides Algernon for reading the inscription on his cigarette case, Algernon replies that “More than half of modern culture depends on what one shouldn’t read.” Other Wilde-isms are delivered by the imperious Lady Bracknell (a stoic, bombastic Wendy Howard-Benham, whose clown makeup must have been intentional but looked for all the world like a terrible mistake). “I’m sorry if we are a little late, Algernon, but I was obliged to call on dear Lady Harbury. I hadn’t been there since her poor husband’s death. I never saw a woman so altered [wait for it]; she looks quite twenty years younger.” The object of Earnest’s affections delivers her share of doozies, too. Distraught by her mother, Lady Bracknell’s, refusal to consent to her marriage to Earnest, Gwendolen (Shannon Stowe, who is doomed to intone her lines from within not one but two unflattering costumes) sagely notes that “In matters of grave importance, style, not sincerity is the vital thing.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Sarah Cook as Cecily has both. She takes her character seriously, inhabiting it with authenticity and wit. Romano’s Earnest, whose importance literally lies in his name, does the same, perhaps because it’s also his job to be Wilde’s self-deprecating conscience. When Algernon tries to get deep with “All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy. No man does. That’s his,” Earnest mockingly asks “Is that clever?” When assured by Algernon that it is, Earnest laments, “I am sick to death of cleverness… I wish to goodness we had a few fools left.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>The Importance of Being Earnest\u003c/b> runs at Bus Barn Stage Company through June 21, 2008. 97 Hillview Avenue, Los Altos. Tickets are $22-$32. For \u003ca href=\"http://http://busbarn.tix.com/Schedule.asp?ActCode=27208\" target=\"offsite\" rel=\"noopener\">tickets and information\u003c/a> visit busbarn.tix.com or call 650-941-0551.\u003c/p>\n\n",
"stats": {
"hasVideo": false,
"hasChartOrMap": false,
"hasAudio": false,
"hasPolis": false,
"wordCount": 968,
"hasGoogleForm": false,
"hasGallery": false,
"hasHearkenModule": false,
"iframeSrcs": [],
"paragraphCount": 10
},
"modified": 1705053114,
"excerpt": "Wilde's last play,\u003cb>The Importance of Being Earnest\u003c/b> opened in London on Valentine's Day in 1895. Just a little more than three months later, Wilde's three trials would be over and he would be in prison for \"gross indecency\" (the formal charge for being a homosexual, which was then illegal in England).",
"headData": {
"twImgId": "",
"twTitle": "",
"ogTitle": "",
"ogImgId": "",
"twDescription": "",
"description": "Wilde's last play,The Importance of Being Earnest opened in London on Valentine's Day in 1895. Just a little more than three months later, Wilde's three trials would be over and he would be in prison for "gross indecency" (the formal charge for being a homosexual, which was then illegal in England).",
"title": "The Importance of Being Earnest | KQED",
"ogDescription": "",
"schema": {
"@context": "https://schema.org",
"@type": "Article",
"headline": "The Importance of Being Earnest",
"datePublished": "2008-06-02T19:33:50-07:00",
"dateModified": "2024-01-12T01:51:54-08:00",
"image": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/02/KQED-OG-Image@1x.png"
}
},
"guestAuthors": [],
"slug": "the_importance_of_being_earnest",
"status": "publish",
"sourceUrl": "http://www.kqed.org/arts/category/performance/performance-review/",
"sticky": false,
"path": "/arts/22815/the_importance_of_being_earnest",
"audioTrackLength": null,
"parsedContent": [
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>It’s Oscar Wilde season on the peninsula, thanks to overlapping performances of Wilde’s \u003cb>The Importance of Being Earnest\u003c/b>, though June 21, 2008 at Bus Barn Stage Company in Los Altos, and theatre Q’s production of \u003cb>Gross Indecency: The Three Trials of Oscar Wilde\u003c/b>, by Moises Kaufman, May 31 through June 22, 2008, at the Dragon Theatre in Palo Alto. I’ve decided to see them both and report back on what’s what.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Wilde’s last play,\u003cb>The Importance of Being Earnest\u003c/b> opened in London on Valentine’s Day in 1895. Just a little more than three months later, Wilde’s three trials would be over and he would be in prison for “gross indecency” (the formal charge for being a homosexual, which was then illegal in England).\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>You would never know that the play being performed at Bus Barn was written by a man whose reputation — for his time, anyway — was so notorious. Despite its clever dialogue, appealingly jaundiced world view, and embrace of the absurd used to mock the rituals of high society and the wealthy, \u003cb>Earnest\u003c/b> seems a creaky bit of theater in 2008. It’s populated by privileged young men falling in love with costumed younger women they barely know. To insure the requisite level of on-stage antics and confusion, each man has invented a fake friend or brother to perpetuate flimsy deceptions used to woo and/or delude their female prey. The audience can see their exposure coming a mile away. In short, the play is silly, charming, fluff. Apparently \u003cb>Earnest\u003c/b> is riddled with inside jokes and references that the keen 1895 theatergoer might have pieced together to discern Wilde’s sexuality and private life. But in 2008, it is only one actor’s uncontrollable appetite for cucumber sandwiches that raises an eyebrow.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>A visible lack of said sandwiches is actually one of the many problems with the current Bus Barn production — for the record, we are told that a fresh supply of cucumber sandwiches has just been made special for a guest, but there are so few of them on the prop serving plate that when the host devours the lot of them, we can’t discern any difference in the size of the non-existent pile, which effectively kills the gag. Sandwiches aside, the play suffers from uninspired direction, melodramatic acting, implausible costumes, and a general lethargy that undermines what should be a hilarious, raucous, bawdy, and irreverent farce. My recollection is that the actors tended to stand around a lot, invariably planting themselves in pairs at the edge of the stage to recite their lines, which Wilde wrote as dialogue, directly to the audience. Ugh.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But this is Wilde, so words gallop to our rescue time and again. The fun begins with the play’s first two lines, when Algernon (an overwrought Jeff Clarke, whose performance teeters on parody), rises from his piano bench and asks his butler (John Baldwin, channeling Droopy Dog) “Did you hear what I was playing, Lane?” “I didn’t think it polite to listen, sir” is Lane’s dry-as-dust reply. Presumably the Lane character was being sincere, if ironic, about the expectations of his position and place in society at the close of the 19th century. But in the current context, in which no creative outburst is too minor to merit its own blog or YouTube video, Lane’s inattentiveness and lack of interest is refreshing.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "ad",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": "fullwidth"
},
"numeric": [
"fullwidth"
]
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>One of the play’s chief appeals is Wilde’s decision to put his observations on life and art into the mouths of numerous characters, rather than just one. Thus, early on, after Earnest (terrifically played by John Romano) chides Algernon for reading the inscription on his cigarette case, Algernon replies that “More than half of modern culture depends on what one shouldn’t read.” Other Wilde-isms are delivered by the imperious Lady Bracknell (a stoic, bombastic Wendy Howard-Benham, whose clown makeup must have been intentional but looked for all the world like a terrible mistake). “I’m sorry if we are a little late, Algernon, but I was obliged to call on dear Lady Harbury. I hadn’t been there since her poor husband’s death. I never saw a woman so altered [wait for it]; she looks quite twenty years younger.” The object of Earnest’s affections delivers her share of doozies, too. Distraught by her mother, Lady Bracknell’s, refusal to consent to her marriage to Earnest, Gwendolen (Shannon Stowe, who is doomed to intone her lines from within not one but two unflattering costumes) sagely notes that “In matters of grave importance, style, not sincerity is the vital thing.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Sarah Cook as Cecily has both. She takes her character seriously, inhabiting it with authenticity and wit. Romano’s Earnest, whose importance literally lies in his name, does the same, perhaps because it’s also his job to be Wilde’s self-deprecating conscience. When Algernon tries to get deep with “All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy. No man does. That’s his,” Earnest mockingly asks “Is that clever?” When assured by Algernon that it is, Earnest laments, “I am sick to death of cleverness… I wish to goodness we had a few fools left.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>The Importance of Being Earnest\u003c/b> runs at Bus Barn Stage Company through June 21, 2008. 97 Hillview Avenue, Los Altos. Tickets are $22-$32. For \u003ca href=\"http://http://busbarn.tix.com/Schedule.asp?ActCode=27208\" target=\"offsite\" rel=\"noopener\">tickets and information\u003c/a> visit busbarn.tix.com or call 650-941-0551.\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
}
],
"link": "/arts/22815/the_importance_of_being_earnest",
"authors": [
"26"
],
"categories": [
"arts_967"
],
"label": "arts"
},
"arts_22769": {
"type": "posts",
"id": "arts_22769",
"meta": {
"index": "posts_1716263798",
"site": "arts",
"id": "22769",
"score": null,
"sort": [
1211482172000
]
},
"parent": 0,
"labelTerm": {
"site": "arts"
},
"blocks": [],
"publishDate": 1211482172,
"format": "standard",
"title": "Northanger Abbey at The Pear",
"headTitle": "Northanger Abbey at The Pear | KQED",
"content": "\u003cp>Everyone is reading at the beginning of \u003cb>Northanger Abbey\u003c/b>, Jane Austen’s posthumously published commentary on late-18th-century Gothic novels, adapted for the stage by Pear Avenue Theatre artistic director, Diane Tasca. Gentlemen in top hats strut across the Pear’s small space, their long noses pressed deep into their books. Young girls cluster and titter, discussing a delicious intrigue or plot twist that they, as privileged readers, have just shared. And as these characters read silently to themselves or pretend to chat with each other, other actors read aloud to the audience, reciting selected passages from Austen’s book so that we might share in the story of Catherine Morland, a girl from a small town in southern England, who, at 15, is described by her loving, supportive, but praise-stingy parents as being “almost pretty.” \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Catherine, who is brought to life by Annamarie MacLeod, is a classic, guileless, Austen heroine. Naïve but intelligent, prone to errors in judgment but always well intentioned, and determined almost to the point of Polyanna, Catherine is the prototypical young girl learning the ways of the adult world. As the play opens, these lessons are taking place in Bath, where she falls for a dashing, well-spoken, and, most importantly, well-read young man named Henry Tilney (meticulously rendered by Michael Barrett Austin). The story might have ended there, with Catherine living happily ever after, but Austen creates mischief for her heroine by introducing her to Isabella Thorpe (Melissa Quine), who is a bit older and thus a lot wiser in the eyes of young, impressionable Catherine. As it turns out, Catherine’s new BFF doesn’t always have Catherine’s best interests at heart (Quine imbues her character with such duplicity, we worry for Isabella’s soul in the afterlife). Meanwhile, Isabella’s boorish brother John (played broadly and brashly by William J. Brown III), who has domineering designs of his own on young Catherine, is an outright cad.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Throughout the play, the audience is treated to energetic, physical performances by the actors that go far beyond mere blocking. At times, the cast is called upon to dance, speaking their lines as they twirl, lock elbows, and promenade. Indeed, the entire play feels like a work of choreography, which makes it a delight to the eye. For example, instead of simply having a pair of actors stand and deliver their assigned lines of narration, director Ennals has those actors sweep into view in animated conversation as they stride across the stage. Even when they break the wall to turn to the audience and confide Tasca’s carefully selected plot points and insights, they stay in motion, giving the play a pace that keeps it and the story moving briskly along (a good thing, too, since the \u003cb>Northanger Abbey\u003c/b> runs 2 hours and 15 minutes, plus an intermission).\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I won’t spoil the plot twists or the ending for you, although it’s not that difficult to guess where things are headed and which lessons our feisty heroine is destined to learn the hard way. You’ll also see right away that the costumes by Trish Files are terrific. And the actors, most of whom play double, triple, and quadruple roles (sometimes as animals, occasionally as furniture), are uniformly great. In addition to MacLeod, whose young-girl-with-an-old-soul persona is pretty much irresistible, Katie O’Bryon bounces easily between the camp of Mrs. Thorpe and the utter sincerity and kindness of Eleanor Tilney. Martin Gagen plays his old-authority-figure roles to perfection, except when he’s playing a horse, for which he gamely gets on his hands and knees to inject a bit of slapstick into the proceedings.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The stars of the show, though, are Austen’s words, and the way in which Ennals has chosen to frame and illuminate them. It’s the little things, like having one character speak the words “The most charming girl in the world” while the object of this tribute, Catherine, mouths the words to the audience, unable to contain her excitement at being so described, and needing to share it with someone, anyone, even a room full of strangers sitting in the dark. Our ears prick up when Catherine confides her hopes for the “horrid” pleasures that hopefully await at the Tilney’s home, Northanger Abbey, where she imagines she might press open a secret passage and find herself face to face with “some injured and ill-fated nun.” Even in the scene in which Gagen plays the horse, Ennals and Tasca prove to be good collaborators; no sooner have we begun grinning at this deliberately silly image than we realize that the actors are discoursing on the four-legged beast of burden. Gagen gets the incongruity of having to fill a horse’s iron shoes as Austen’s lovely language and rich sentiments swirl around him. If the performances of the actors are like watching a dance, hearing them speak Austen’s words is like listening to music.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>Northanger Abbey\u003c/b> runs at The Pear Avenue Theatre through June 8, 2008. 1220 Pear Avenue, Mountain View. Performances are Thursdays – Saturdays at 8pm, Sundays at 2pm. Tickets are $12-$25. To order, go to \u003ca href=\"http://www.brownpapertickets.com/producer/6698\" target=\"offsite\" rel=\"noopener\">Brown Paper Tickets,\u003c/a> or call 650-254-1148.\u003c/p>\n\n",
"stats": {
"hasVideo": false,
"hasChartOrMap": false,
"hasAudio": false,
"hasPolis": false,
"wordCount": 913,
"hasGoogleForm": false,
"hasGallery": false,
"hasHearkenModule": false,
"iframeSrcs": [],
"paragraphCount": 8
},
"modified": 1705053120,
"excerpt": "Everyone is reading at the beginning of \u003cb>Northanger Abbey\u003c/b>, Jane Austen's posthumously published commentary on late-18th-century Gothic novels, adapted for the stage by Pear Avenue Theatre artistic director, Diane Tasca. Gentlemen in top hats strut across the Pear's small space, their long noses pressed deep into their books. Young girls cluster and titter, discussing a delicious intrigue or plot twist that they, as privileged readers, have just shared. ",
"headData": {
"twImgId": "",
"twTitle": "",
"ogTitle": "",
"ogImgId": "",
"twDescription": "",
"description": "Everyone is reading at the beginning of Northanger Abbey, Jane Austen's posthumously published commentary on late-18th-century Gothic novels, adapted for the stage by Pear Avenue Theatre artistic director, Diane Tasca. Gentlemen in top hats strut across the Pear's small space, their long noses pressed deep into their books. Young girls cluster and titter, discussing a delicious intrigue or plot twist that they, as privileged readers, have just shared. ",
"title": "Northanger Abbey at The Pear | KQED",
"ogDescription": "",
"schema": {
"@context": "https://schema.org",
"@type": "Article",
"headline": "Northanger Abbey at The Pear",
"datePublished": "2008-05-22T11:49:32-07:00",
"dateModified": "2024-01-12T01:52:00-08:00",
"image": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/02/KQED-OG-Image@1x.png"
}
},
"guestAuthors": [],
"slug": "northanger_abbey_at_the_pear",
"status": "publish",
"sourceUrl": "http://www.kqed.org/arts/category/performance/performance-review/",
"sticky": false,
"path": "/arts/22769/northanger_abbey_at_the_pear",
"audioTrackLength": null,
"parsedContent": [
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>Everyone is reading at the beginning of \u003cb>Northanger Abbey\u003c/b>, Jane Austen’s posthumously published commentary on late-18th-century Gothic novels, adapted for the stage by Pear Avenue Theatre artistic director, Diane Tasca. Gentlemen in top hats strut across the Pear’s small space, their long noses pressed deep into their books. Young girls cluster and titter, discussing a delicious intrigue or plot twist that they, as privileged readers, have just shared. And as these characters read silently to themselves or pretend to chat with each other, other actors read aloud to the audience, reciting selected passages from Austen’s book so that we might share in the story of Catherine Morland, a girl from a small town in southern England, who, at 15, is described by her loving, supportive, but praise-stingy parents as being “almost pretty.” \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Catherine, who is brought to life by Annamarie MacLeod, is a classic, guileless, Austen heroine. Naïve but intelligent, prone to errors in judgment but always well intentioned, and determined almost to the point of Polyanna, Catherine is the prototypical young girl learning the ways of the adult world. As the play opens, these lessons are taking place in Bath, where she falls for a dashing, well-spoken, and, most importantly, well-read young man named Henry Tilney (meticulously rendered by Michael Barrett Austin). The story might have ended there, with Catherine living happily ever after, but Austen creates mischief for her heroine by introducing her to Isabella Thorpe (Melissa Quine), who is a bit older and thus a lot wiser in the eyes of young, impressionable Catherine. As it turns out, Catherine’s new BFF doesn’t always have Catherine’s best interests at heart (Quine imbues her character with such duplicity, we worry for Isabella’s soul in the afterlife). Meanwhile, Isabella’s boorish brother John (played broadly and brashly by William J. Brown III), who has domineering designs of his own on young Catherine, is an outright cad.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Throughout the play, the audience is treated to energetic, physical performances by the actors that go far beyond mere blocking. At times, the cast is called upon to dance, speaking their lines as they twirl, lock elbows, and promenade. Indeed, the entire play feels like a work of choreography, which makes it a delight to the eye. For example, instead of simply having a pair of actors stand and deliver their assigned lines of narration, director Ennals has those actors sweep into view in animated conversation as they stride across the stage. Even when they break the wall to turn to the audience and confide Tasca’s carefully selected plot points and insights, they stay in motion, giving the play a pace that keeps it and the story moving briskly along (a good thing, too, since the \u003cb>Northanger Abbey\u003c/b> runs 2 hours and 15 minutes, plus an intermission).\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I won’t spoil the plot twists or the ending for you, although it’s not that difficult to guess where things are headed and which lessons our feisty heroine is destined to learn the hard way. You’ll also see right away that the costumes by Trish Files are terrific. And the actors, most of whom play double, triple, and quadruple roles (sometimes as animals, occasionally as furniture), are uniformly great. In addition to MacLeod, whose young-girl-with-an-old-soul persona is pretty much irresistible, Katie O’Bryon bounces easily between the camp of Mrs. Thorpe and the utter sincerity and kindness of Eleanor Tilney. Martin Gagen plays his old-authority-figure roles to perfection, except when he’s playing a horse, for which he gamely gets on his hands and knees to inject a bit of slapstick into the proceedings.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The stars of the show, though, are Austen’s words, and the way in which Ennals has chosen to frame and illuminate them. It’s the little things, like having one character speak the words “The most charming girl in the world” while the object of this tribute, Catherine, mouths the words to the audience, unable to contain her excitement at being so described, and needing to share it with someone, anyone, even a room full of strangers sitting in the dark. Our ears prick up when Catherine confides her hopes for the “horrid” pleasures that hopefully await at the Tilney’s home, Northanger Abbey, where she imagines she might press open a secret passage and find herself face to face with “some injured and ill-fated nun.” Even in the scene in which Gagen plays the horse, Ennals and Tasca prove to be good collaborators; no sooner have we begun grinning at this deliberately silly image than we realize that the actors are discoursing on the four-legged beast of burden. Gagen gets the incongruity of having to fill a horse’s iron shoes as Austen’s lovely language and rich sentiments swirl around him. If the performances of the actors are like watching a dance, hearing them speak Austen’s words is like listening to music.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "ad",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": "fullwidth"
},
"numeric": [
"fullwidth"
]
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>Northanger Abbey\u003c/b> runs at The Pear Avenue Theatre through June 8, 2008. 1220 Pear Avenue, Mountain View. Performances are Thursdays – Saturdays at 8pm, Sundays at 2pm. Tickets are $12-$25. To order, go to \u003ca href=\"http://www.brownpapertickets.com/producer/6698\" target=\"offsite\" rel=\"noopener\">Brown Paper Tickets,\u003c/a> or call 650-254-1148.\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
}
],
"link": "/arts/22769/northanger_abbey_at_the_pear",
"authors": [
"26"
],
"categories": [
"arts_967"
],
"label": "arts"
},
"arts_22744": {
"type": "posts",
"id": "arts_22744",
"meta": {
"index": "posts_1716263798",
"site": "arts",
"id": "22744",
"score": null,
"sort": [
1211235204000
]
},
"parent": 0,
"labelTerm": {
"site": "arts"
},
"blocks": [],
"publishDate": 1211235204,
"format": "standard",
"title": "Oakland Opera Theater: Queenie Pie",
"headTitle": "Oakland Opera Theater: Queenie Pie | KQED",
"content": "\u003cp>Duke Ellington’s \u003cb>Queenie Pie\u003c/b> is often described as an opera, yet with its zany plot and combination of spoken dialogue, musical numbers, and dance pieces it defies easy classification. \u003cb>Queenie Pie\u003c/b> was unfinished when Ellington died, and the Oakland Opera Theater has taken on the task of restoring and supplementing the work. It is an ambitious project; according to the program notes, Ellington completed roughly 95% of the melodies and lyrics, 25% of a piano score, and no orchestration, leaving a great deal to be done in order to prepare the piece for a fully staged production. While the finished product is sometimes disjointed, this unique production has wonderful music and moments of great energy, and it succeeds in bringing this little-known work to a wider audience.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>Queenie Pie\u003c/b> is loosely based on the life of Madam C. J. Walker, an African American woman who became the first female self-made millionaire by developing and selling hair care and beauty products. The opera opens in Harlem, where Queenie Pie’s ten-year reign as top Beautician-Cosmetologist is threatened by newcomer Café Olay. After Café Olay seduces and then kills Queenie Pie’s lover, Queenie Pie leaves New York to journey to an island in search of a plant that will allow her to make the best beauty products available. There are several twists and turns along this journey including a shipwreck, a marriage with island royalty, and Queenie Pie’s discovery that she can make anything she wants on the island. In the end, she must choose between the riches that she has discovered and her desire to return home to New York.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But the plot, which moves in fits and starts, isn’t what gives this work its energy and appeal. Instead the opera is driven by Ellington’s swinging melodies and the lively orchestration by arranger Marc Bolin, all brought beautifully to life by the Marcus Shelby Jazz Orchestra. Their playing is a constant pleasure, providing everything from rollicking dance numbers to scene-setting background music to impressionistic storm sounds. If at times the onstage action becomes confusing, you can always sit back and enjoy the band.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>As Queenie Pie, Amanda King brings a commanding stage presence and great physical humor to the role. Her voice is expressive and it’s unfortunate that the role doesn’t give her more opportunities to show it off. Kathleen Antonia is a sultry and confident Café Olay. Tania Johnson gives a particularly strong performance as the singing, dancing, and narrating Lady Reporter/Observator. The male ensemble in Act II also stands out for their beautifully coordinated a cappella singing.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Ellington originally conceived of \u003cb>Queenie Pie\u003c/b> in collaboration with public television station WNET in New York and it was meant to air on television. To stay true to that original intent, Oakland Opera Theater has framed the piece as if it were a live studio production, with sung “commercials” supplemented by video throughout the performance. While these interludes are well-performed by the Studio Singers, they stop the action and slow the momentum onstage. Overall the production could use tightening, with quicker transitions and fewer pauses so that the audience isn’t pulled out of the story.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Ellington laid the groundwork for \u003cb>Queenie Pie\u003c/b>, but for the work to be completed and performed many artists needed to collaborate on the final product. It’s exciting to see a local company bringing together so many talented people on this unique and challenging project, giving audiences an opportunity to see this rarely performed work by one of the great masters of jazz.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>Queenie Pie\u003c/b> is at the Oakland Metro Operahouse through May 25, 2008. The Oakland Metro Operahouse is located at 630 3rd Street in Oakland. For \u003ca href=\"http://www.oaklandopera.org/\" target=\"offsite\" rel=\"noopener\">tickets and more information\u003c/a> visit oaklandopera.org.\u003c/p>\n\n",
"stats": {
"hasVideo": false,
"hasChartOrMap": false,
"hasAudio": false,
"hasPolis": false,
"wordCount": 653,
"hasGoogleForm": false,
"hasGallery": false,
"hasHearkenModule": false,
"iframeSrcs": [],
"paragraphCount": 9
},
"modified": 1705053130,
"excerpt": "Duke Ellington's \u003cb>Queenie Pie\u003c/b> is often described as an opera, yet with its zany plot and combination of spoken dialogue, musical numbers, and dance pieces it defies easy classification. \u003cb>Queenie Pie\u003c/b> was unfinished when Ellington died, and the Oakland Opera Theater has taken on the task of restoring and supplementing the work. ",
"headData": {
"twImgId": "",
"twTitle": "",
"ogTitle": "",
"ogImgId": "",
"twDescription": "",
"description": "Duke Ellington's Queenie Pie is often described as an opera, yet with its zany plot and combination of spoken dialogue, musical numbers, and dance pieces it defies easy classification. Queenie Pie was unfinished when Ellington died, and the Oakland Opera Theater has taken on the task of restoring and supplementing the work. ",
"title": "Oakland Opera Theater: Queenie Pie | KQED",
"ogDescription": "",
"schema": {
"@context": "https://schema.org",
"@type": "Article",
"headline": "Oakland Opera Theater: Queenie Pie",
"datePublished": "2008-05-19T15:13:24-07:00",
"dateModified": "2024-01-12T01:52:10-08:00",
"image": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/02/KQED-OG-Image@1x.png"
}
},
"guestAuthors": [],
"slug": "oakland_opera_theater_queenie_pie",
"status": "publish",
"sourceUrl": "http://www.kqed.org/arts/category/performance/performance-review/",
"sticky": false,
"path": "/arts/22744/oakland_opera_theater_queenie_pie",
"audioTrackLength": null,
"parsedContent": [
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>Duke Ellington’s \u003cb>Queenie Pie\u003c/b> is often described as an opera, yet with its zany plot and combination of spoken dialogue, musical numbers, and dance pieces it defies easy classification. \u003cb>Queenie Pie\u003c/b> was unfinished when Ellington died, and the Oakland Opera Theater has taken on the task of restoring and supplementing the work. It is an ambitious project; according to the program notes, Ellington completed roughly 95% of the melodies and lyrics, 25% of a piano score, and no orchestration, leaving a great deal to be done in order to prepare the piece for a fully staged production. While the finished product is sometimes disjointed, this unique production has wonderful music and moments of great energy, and it succeeds in bringing this little-known work to a wider audience.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>Queenie Pie\u003c/b> is loosely based on the life of Madam C. J. Walker, an African American woman who became the first female self-made millionaire by developing and selling hair care and beauty products. The opera opens in Harlem, where Queenie Pie’s ten-year reign as top Beautician-Cosmetologist is threatened by newcomer Café Olay. After Café Olay seduces and then kills Queenie Pie’s lover, Queenie Pie leaves New York to journey to an island in search of a plant that will allow her to make the best beauty products available. There are several twists and turns along this journey including a shipwreck, a marriage with island royalty, and Queenie Pie’s discovery that she can make anything she wants on the island. In the end, she must choose between the riches that she has discovered and her desire to return home to New York.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But the plot, which moves in fits and starts, isn’t what gives this work its energy and appeal. Instead the opera is driven by Ellington’s swinging melodies and the lively orchestration by arranger Marc Bolin, all brought beautifully to life by the Marcus Shelby Jazz Orchestra. Their playing is a constant pleasure, providing everything from rollicking dance numbers to scene-setting background music to impressionistic storm sounds. If at times the onstage action becomes confusing, you can always sit back and enjoy the band.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>As Queenie Pie, Amanda King brings a commanding stage presence and great physical humor to the role. Her voice is expressive and it’s unfortunate that the role doesn’t give her more opportunities to show it off. Kathleen Antonia is a sultry and confident Café Olay. Tania Johnson gives a particularly strong performance as the singing, dancing, and narrating Lady Reporter/Observator. The male ensemble in Act II also stands out for their beautifully coordinated a cappella singing.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Ellington originally conceived of \u003cb>Queenie Pie\u003c/b> in collaboration with public television station WNET in New York and it was meant to air on television. To stay true to that original intent, Oakland Opera Theater has framed the piece as if it were a live studio production, with sung “commercials” supplemented by video throughout the performance. While these interludes are well-performed by the Studio Singers, they stop the action and slow the momentum onstage. Overall the production could use tightening, with quicker transitions and fewer pauses so that the audience isn’t pulled out of the story.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "ad",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": "fullwidth"
},
"numeric": [
"fullwidth"
]
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Ellington laid the groundwork for \u003cb>Queenie Pie\u003c/b>, but for the work to be completed and performed many artists needed to collaborate on the final product. It’s exciting to see a local company bringing together so many talented people on this unique and challenging project, giving audiences an opportunity to see this rarely performed work by one of the great masters of jazz.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>Queenie Pie\u003c/b> is at the Oakland Metro Operahouse through May 25, 2008. The Oakland Metro Operahouse is located at 630 3rd Street in Oakland. For \u003ca href=\"http://www.oaklandopera.org/\" target=\"offsite\" rel=\"noopener\">tickets and more information\u003c/a> visit oaklandopera.org.\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
}
],
"link": "/arts/22744/oakland_opera_theater_queenie_pie",
"authors": [
"28"
],
"categories": [
"arts_967"
],
"label": "arts"
},
"arts_22564": {
"type": "posts",
"id": "arts_22564",
"meta": {
"index": "posts_1716263798",
"site": "arts",
"id": "22564",
"score": null,
"sort": [
1207780000000
]
},
"parent": 0,
"labelTerm": {
"site": "arts"
},
"blocks": [],
"publishDate": 1207780000,
"format": "standard",
"title": "TheatreWorks' Caroline, or Change",
"headTitle": "TheatreWorks’ Caroline, or Change | KQED",
"content": "\u003cp>Change and loss are the parallel themes of the closing production of TheatreWorks’ 2007/2008 season, \u003cb>Caroline, Or Change\u003c/b> now playing at Mountain View Center for the Performing Arts. The musical’s heroine, Caroline Thibodeaux, brilliantly realized by C. Kelly Wright, is coping with both the loss of an abusive spouse and the stirrings of a growing daughter who refuses to remain a child. Across town, a young boy named Noah Gellman, played with confidence and maturity beyond his years by Julian Hornik, a peninsula middle-school student, has recently lost his mother to cancer. And in the society at large, the events of one particular day in late November, 1963, are about to turn a nation’s guts inside out.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Not coincidentally, it is the actual change in Noah’s pockets, and Caroline’s interaction with said ducats as the black maid doing laundry in a white, Jewish boy’s basement, that provides the turning point in playwright Tony Kushner’s oddly tin-eared story. Caroline is incomprehensibly angry with her lot in life (“I wish every afternoon I’d die,” she wails), from her economic oppression to her longing for the lips of Nat King Cole. Nevertheless, she has a strong bond with Noah (“He’s so shy, a hug could break him”), based in part on her willingness to let him light the occasional cigarette for her, and her practice of returning all of the loose change she finds in the boy’s dirty clothes. Noah’s carelessly accounted coins mean little to him, but to Caroline they would be enough to switch from serving her own growing boys meat-flavored bread, as she calls it, to real ground chuck. Caroline only makes $30 a week, but honesty and honor compel her to return each and every coin to young Noah.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Noah’s basement is Caroline’s domain throughout much of the musical, which to my ear sounded more like an opera and, in some sections, the mono-tonal arrangements that are familiar to anyone who has attended a Bar or Bat Mitzvah. (Jeanine Tesori’s mostly unhummable tunes also draw from sources as varied as Detroit soul, Tennessee Ernie Ford, and eastern European klezmer.) In the basement, the washing machine transforms into a hip-swishing apparition, delightfully brought to life by Allison Blackwell (she’s great here, and even better as Caroline’s forward-thinking friend, Dotty). The dryer is personified by a devilish baritone in black and red, inhabited all too briefly for my liking by James Monroe Iglehart (“Time has come,” he roars, “to suffer heat!”). Caroline is also kept company by a radio, which is represented, Greek-chorus style, by a trio of women in red sequins (Marsha Lawson, Adrienne Muller, and Dawn L. Troupe, all of whom belt out some serious solos).\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Inserting herself into Caroline’s world is Noah’s stepmother, Rose, keenly played by Eileen Tepper. Rose is a relentless pain in the ass who manages her life, and the lives of others, by drawing endless numbers of arbitrary lines in the sand. The management of the coins in young Noah’s pockets is one such line, although the lesson Rose wants to teach him has less to do with capitalism and the value of a dollar (Randy Nazarian is terrific as Rose’s card-carrying Commie dad) than giving the lad a taste of the liberal guilt Rose believes he should feel by putting poor, poor Caroline in the position of coming across his loose change on laundry day. Naturally Rose makes things even worse by decreeing that anything Caroline finds in Noah’s pockets is hers to keep, thus upsetting the moral balance between a motherless child and his unlikely surrogate mom.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The animation of inanimate objects in the basement is one of the most engaging aspects of \u003cb>Caroline, Or Change\u003c/b>, which may be why the moon’s appearance is one of the few staging disappointments. Anise Ritchie handles her numbers beautifully and regally, but her immobile presence stands in stark contrast to the rest of the production, which benefits from quick set changes in which elements are mixed and matched as the story’s circumstances demand. Poor moon just stands there, all dressed up with nowhere to go.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>More troubling, though, than a relatively minor detail like an immobile moon is the tone of Kushner’s piece, which teeters on condescending. Not surprisingly given his personal history (Kushner describes \u003cb>Caroline, Or Change\u003c/b> as “A mis-memory play”), he gets the New York Jews transplanted in Louisiana absolutely right, but he doesn’t have as much success capturing the inner life and external reality of Caroline and her kin. Yes, Kushner gives Caroline some very good lines to sing, and Wright does an amazing job of expressing Caroline’s angry, bitter, and tender sides, sometimes all in the same breath and sideways glance. But we never see the cause of Caroline’s catharsis as the musical draws to a close. Kushner’s calculated excuse of “mis-memory” only takes one so far.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The lesson here is probably as simple as that old saw about writing what you know. We see, for example, a lot of the interior of the Gellman home: there’s Noah’s upstairs bedroom, his father’s music nook, the dining room, the kitchen, and, of course, the basement. We even get a revealing window on the ambivalence some Jews felt toward “Negroes” in 1963: Noah’s paternal grandparents can accept the ones in Louisiana because they don’t stir up trouble like those in Alabama and Mississippi, whereas Rose’s father believes Martin Luther King is not radical enough.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But when the action shifts to Caroline’s home, we aren’t permitted past the front porch. It’s as if Kushner simply could not imagine it. He’s no better at getting inside the heads of some of his characters. Take Caroline’s daughter, Emmie, whose infectious smile and terrific voice belong to Valisia LeKae. What’s the driving motivation for her social conscience and radicalism? According to Kushner, it appears to be materialism. I don’t mean to suggest that tangible goods and the pleasures they provide are poor motivators, or that economic justice was not a part of the greater cause, but the civil rights movement was also about a person’s right to vote and sit where they liked on a public bus. Kushner’s Caroline is conveniently practical, more absorbed by her daily economic circumstances than the injustices done to her because of her race. Kushner is equally practical: he’d rather tell us a bedtime story about the change in a white boy’s pocket than the more complicated tale of how change finally touched Caroline.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad floatright]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>TheatreWorks’ production of \u003cb>Caroline, Or Change\u003c/b> continues at Mountain View Center for the Performing Arts through April 27, 2008. 500 Castro Street, (650) 903-6000. For \u003ca href=\"http://www.theatreworks.org/\" target=\"offsite\" rel=\"noopener\"> tickets and information\u003c/a> visit theatreworks.org.\u003c/p>\n\n",
"stats": {
"hasVideo": false,
"hasChartOrMap": false,
"hasAudio": false,
"hasPolis": false,
"wordCount": 1223,
"hasGoogleForm": false,
"hasGallery": false,
"hasHearkenModule": false,
"iframeSrcs": [],
"paragraphCount": 11
},
"modified": 1705053168,
"excerpt": "Change and loss are the parallel themes of the closing production of TheatreWorks' 2007/2008 season, \u003cb>Caroline, Or Change\u003c/b> now playing at Mountain View Center for the Performing Arts. The musical's heroine, Caroline Thibodeaux, brilliantly realized by C. Kelly Wright, is coping with both the loss of an abusive spouse and the stirrings of a growing daughter who refuses to remain a child. ",
"headData": {
"twImgId": "",
"twTitle": "",
"ogTitle": "",
"ogImgId": "",
"twDescription": "",
"description": "Change and loss are the parallel themes of the closing production of TheatreWorks' 2007/2008 season, Caroline, Or Change now playing at Mountain View Center for the Performing Arts. The musical's heroine, Caroline Thibodeaux, brilliantly realized by C. Kelly Wright, is coping with both the loss of an abusive spouse and the stirrings of a growing daughter who refuses to remain a child. ",
"title": "TheatreWorks' Caroline, or Change | KQED",
"ogDescription": "",
"schema": {
"@context": "https://schema.org",
"@type": "Article",
"headline": "TheatreWorks' Caroline, or Change",
"datePublished": "2008-04-09T15:26:40-07:00",
"dateModified": "2024-01-12T01:52:48-08:00",
"image": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/02/KQED-OG-Image@1x.png"
}
},
"guestAuthors": [],
"slug": "theatreworks_caroline_or_change",
"status": "publish",
"sourceUrl": "http://www.kqed.org/arts/category/performance/performance-review/",
"sticky": false,
"path": "/arts/22564/theatreworks_caroline_or_change",
"audioTrackLength": null,
"parsedContent": [
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>Change and loss are the parallel themes of the closing production of TheatreWorks’ 2007/2008 season, \u003cb>Caroline, Or Change\u003c/b> now playing at Mountain View Center for the Performing Arts. The musical’s heroine, Caroline Thibodeaux, brilliantly realized by C. Kelly Wright, is coping with both the loss of an abusive spouse and the stirrings of a growing daughter who refuses to remain a child. Across town, a young boy named Noah Gellman, played with confidence and maturity beyond his years by Julian Hornik, a peninsula middle-school student, has recently lost his mother to cancer. And in the society at large, the events of one particular day in late November, 1963, are about to turn a nation’s guts inside out.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Not coincidentally, it is the actual change in Noah’s pockets, and Caroline’s interaction with said ducats as the black maid doing laundry in a white, Jewish boy’s basement, that provides the turning point in playwright Tony Kushner’s oddly tin-eared story. Caroline is incomprehensibly angry with her lot in life (“I wish every afternoon I’d die,” she wails), from her economic oppression to her longing for the lips of Nat King Cole. Nevertheless, she has a strong bond with Noah (“He’s so shy, a hug could break him”), based in part on her willingness to let him light the occasional cigarette for her, and her practice of returning all of the loose change she finds in the boy’s dirty clothes. Noah’s carelessly accounted coins mean little to him, but to Caroline they would be enough to switch from serving her own growing boys meat-flavored bread, as she calls it, to real ground chuck. Caroline only makes $30 a week, but honesty and honor compel her to return each and every coin to young Noah.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Noah’s basement is Caroline’s domain throughout much of the musical, which to my ear sounded more like an opera and, in some sections, the mono-tonal arrangements that are familiar to anyone who has attended a Bar or Bat Mitzvah. (Jeanine Tesori’s mostly unhummable tunes also draw from sources as varied as Detroit soul, Tennessee Ernie Ford, and eastern European klezmer.) In the basement, the washing machine transforms into a hip-swishing apparition, delightfully brought to life by Allison Blackwell (she’s great here, and even better as Caroline’s forward-thinking friend, Dotty). The dryer is personified by a devilish baritone in black and red, inhabited all too briefly for my liking by James Monroe Iglehart (“Time has come,” he roars, “to suffer heat!”). Caroline is also kept company by a radio, which is represented, Greek-chorus style, by a trio of women in red sequins (Marsha Lawson, Adrienne Muller, and Dawn L. Troupe, all of whom belt out some serious solos).\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Inserting herself into Caroline’s world is Noah’s stepmother, Rose, keenly played by Eileen Tepper. Rose is a relentless pain in the ass who manages her life, and the lives of others, by drawing endless numbers of arbitrary lines in the sand. The management of the coins in young Noah’s pockets is one such line, although the lesson Rose wants to teach him has less to do with capitalism and the value of a dollar (Randy Nazarian is terrific as Rose’s card-carrying Commie dad) than giving the lad a taste of the liberal guilt Rose believes he should feel by putting poor, poor Caroline in the position of coming across his loose change on laundry day. Naturally Rose makes things even worse by decreeing that anything Caroline finds in Noah’s pockets is hers to keep, thus upsetting the moral balance between a motherless child and his unlikely surrogate mom.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The animation of inanimate objects in the basement is one of the most engaging aspects of \u003cb>Caroline, Or Change\u003c/b>, which may be why the moon’s appearance is one of the few staging disappointments. Anise Ritchie handles her numbers beautifully and regally, but her immobile presence stands in stark contrast to the rest of the production, which benefits from quick set changes in which elements are mixed and matched as the story’s circumstances demand. Poor moon just stands there, all dressed up with nowhere to go.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "ad",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": "fullwidth"
},
"numeric": [
"fullwidth"
]
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>More troubling, though, than a relatively minor detail like an immobile moon is the tone of Kushner’s piece, which teeters on condescending. Not surprisingly given his personal history (Kushner describes \u003cb>Caroline, Or Change\u003c/b> as “A mis-memory play”), he gets the New York Jews transplanted in Louisiana absolutely right, but he doesn’t have as much success capturing the inner life and external reality of Caroline and her kin. Yes, Kushner gives Caroline some very good lines to sing, and Wright does an amazing job of expressing Caroline’s angry, bitter, and tender sides, sometimes all in the same breath and sideways glance. But we never see the cause of Caroline’s catharsis as the musical draws to a close. Kushner’s calculated excuse of “mis-memory” only takes one so far.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The lesson here is probably as simple as that old saw about writing what you know. We see, for example, a lot of the interior of the Gellman home: there’s Noah’s upstairs bedroom, his father’s music nook, the dining room, the kitchen, and, of course, the basement. We even get a revealing window on the ambivalence some Jews felt toward “Negroes” in 1963: Noah’s paternal grandparents can accept the ones in Louisiana because they don’t stir up trouble like those in Alabama and Mississippi, whereas Rose’s father believes Martin Luther King is not radical enough.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But when the action shifts to Caroline’s home, we aren’t permitted past the front porch. It’s as if Kushner simply could not imagine it. He’s no better at getting inside the heads of some of his characters. Take Caroline’s daughter, Emmie, whose infectious smile and terrific voice belong to Valisia LeKae. What’s the driving motivation for her social conscience and radicalism? According to Kushner, it appears to be materialism. I don’t mean to suggest that tangible goods and the pleasures they provide are poor motivators, or that economic justice was not a part of the greater cause, but the civil rights movement was also about a person’s right to vote and sit where they liked on a public bus. Kushner’s Caroline is conveniently practical, more absorbed by her daily economic circumstances than the injustices done to her because of her race. Kushner is equally practical: he’d rather tell us a bedtime story about the change in a white boy’s pocket than the more complicated tale of how change finally touched Caroline.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "ad",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": "floatright"
},
"numeric": [
"floatright"
]
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>TheatreWorks’ production of \u003cb>Caroline, Or Change\u003c/b> continues at Mountain View Center for the Performing Arts through April 27, 2008. 500 Castro Street, (650) 903-6000. For \u003ca href=\"http://www.theatreworks.org/\" target=\"offsite\" rel=\"noopener\"> tickets and information\u003c/a> visit theatreworks.org.\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
}
],
"link": "/arts/22564/theatreworks_caroline_or_change",
"authors": [
"26"
],
"categories": [
"arts_967"
],
"label": "arts"
},
"arts_22560": {
"type": "posts",
"id": "arts_22560",
"meta": {
"index": "posts_1716263798",
"site": "arts",
"id": "22560",
"score": null,
"sort": [
1207608187000
]
},
"parent": 0,
"labelTerm": {
"site": "arts"
},
"blocks": [],
"publishDate": 1207608187,
"format": "standard",
"title": "Tourette's Without Regrets",
"headTitle": "Tourette’s Without Regrets | KQED",
"content": "\u003cp>They don’t have a website. They don’t have a regular venue. They jerry-rigged this month’s show in a dirty, depressing warehouse, and the lights kept going out. I had to wait in line for an hour with a solidly homogeneous collection of twenty-something white hipsters who B-ed YOB. The show went on for more than two and half hours, all of which time I spent on a folding chair, occasionally getting chili and spunk-flavored cream thrown on me. I saw more than I wanted to see of the host’s and co-host’s privates. The misogyny was even more casual, with the — inevitably young — women in the audience encouraged to flash and grind at every opportunity. Open and covert homophobic jokes flew every which way. And there wasn’t even any food.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>It was awesome.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Jamie “DeWolf” Kennedy’s \u003cb>Tourette’s Without Regrets\u003c/b> is awesome not because of its stupidity but in spite of it. The content of the show is entirely beside the point; it could be Christian values hour and it wouldn’t matter. Because what \u003cb>Tourette’s\u003c/b> brings is a ritual as practiced and intricately designed as high mass, the deepest concentration of raw talent you’re likely to see in a monthly night in the Bay, and horsepower.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>Tourette’s\u003c/b>, Kennedy’s performance-competition-cum-low-ring circus, has been working Benicia, Vallejo, and then Oakland for, well, I don’t know how many years because they don’t have a website. Nine? In all that time it’s still undergroundish, and seems to like it that way.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But you can tell Kennedy and crew have been doing this a long time. They start with exactly the sort of hug-your-neighbor we used to “build community” in church, and just like in church, it loosened everyone up. Know thy audience. Rather than offering a main event with side shows, \u003cb>Tourette’s\u003c/b> combines variety show with game show for a balanced and rhythmic flow of high-energy scenes: the slam judges introduced themselves by mimicking psychotic animals; two previous “dirty haiku” champions faced off in three rounds; a sick beatboxing duo gave a perfectly timed set; a surreal Burlesque/performance group combined a flute, some high-flown language, and a Snow White strip-tease, etc.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>None of these segments went on too long, and each one had at least one of the necessary elements: real talent, riveting weirdness, or a completely confident and unashamed person being creatively humiliated.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>What would, in a lesser show, be the main events — the poetry slam and the freestyle rap battle — were necessarily the least controllable portions of a show that emphasizes skill. And sure enough, the slam featured too much abstraction, plus the inevitable girl in a short skirt blowing a piece about her piece; the battlers all spent half their sets thinking, to a rhythm of unconvincing “yo’s.” But these segments, thanks to the variety show feel, didn’t have to carry more than their fair share of the burden.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>While it was clear the hosts and contestants were performing a more extreme political incorrectness than they probably professed offstage, this was just as clearly being used to oil up the audience and for no other purpose. There is nothing laudable or challenging about political incorrectness for its own sake, but \u003cb>Tourette’s\u003c/b> is not challenging, cutting edge culture. Its purpose is pure entertainment, and within that, the showcasing of utterly accessible talent. I could see getting mighty weary of it in time, but then I’m not the target audience.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>Tourette’s Without Regrets\u003c/b> is the first Thursday of every month [THIS THURSDAY, May 1, 2008] from 9 pm to midnight, although you should arrive at 8 pm if you want a seat. The show should return to its longtime venue at the Oakland Metro in June. Until then, to find out where the next show will be, email Jamie (tongueartillery at yahoo dot com) to get on the mailing list or check out the \u003ca href=\"http://www.myspace.com/touretteswithoutregrets\" target=\"offsite\" rel=\"noopener\">Tourette’s MySpace page\u003c/a>.\u003c/p>\n\n",
"stats": {
"hasVideo": false,
"hasChartOrMap": false,
"hasAudio": false,
"hasPolis": false,
"wordCount": 717,
"hasGoogleForm": false,
"hasGallery": false,
"hasHearkenModule": false,
"iframeSrcs": [],
"paragraphCount": 11
},
"modified": 1705053171,
"excerpt": "They don't have a website. They don't have a regular venue. They jerry-rigged this month's show in a dirty, depressing warehouse, and the lights kept going out. I had to wait in line for an hour with a solidly homogeneous collection of twenty-something white hipsters who B-ed YOB.",
"headData": {
"twImgId": "",
"twTitle": "",
"ogTitle": "",
"ogImgId": "",
"twDescription": "",
"description": "They don't have a website. They don't have a regular venue. They jerry-rigged this month's show in a dirty, depressing warehouse, and the lights kept going out. I had to wait in line for an hour with a solidly homogeneous collection of twenty-something white hipsters who B-ed YOB.",
"title": "Tourette's Without Regrets | KQED",
"ogDescription": "",
"schema": {
"@context": "https://schema.org",
"@type": "Article",
"headline": "Tourette's Without Regrets",
"datePublished": "2008-04-07T15:43:07-07:00",
"dateModified": "2024-01-12T01:52:51-08:00",
"image": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/02/KQED-OG-Image@1x.png"
}
},
"guestAuthors": [],
"slug": "tourettes_without_regrets",
"status": "publish",
"sourceUrl": "http://www.kqed.org/arts/category/performance/performance-review/",
"sticky": false,
"path": "/arts/22560/tourettes_without_regrets",
"audioTrackLength": null,
"parsedContent": [
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>They don’t have a website. They don’t have a regular venue. They jerry-rigged this month’s show in a dirty, depressing warehouse, and the lights kept going out. I had to wait in line for an hour with a solidly homogeneous collection of twenty-something white hipsters who B-ed YOB. The show went on for more than two and half hours, all of which time I spent on a folding chair, occasionally getting chili and spunk-flavored cream thrown on me. I saw more than I wanted to see of the host’s and co-host’s privates. The misogyny was even more casual, with the — inevitably young — women in the audience encouraged to flash and grind at every opportunity. Open and covert homophobic jokes flew every which way. And there wasn’t even any food.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>It was awesome.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Jamie “DeWolf” Kennedy’s \u003cb>Tourette’s Without Regrets\u003c/b> is awesome not because of its stupidity but in spite of it. The content of the show is entirely beside the point; it could be Christian values hour and it wouldn’t matter. Because what \u003cb>Tourette’s\u003c/b> brings is a ritual as practiced and intricately designed as high mass, the deepest concentration of raw talent you’re likely to see in a monthly night in the Bay, and horsepower.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>Tourette’s\u003c/b>, Kennedy’s performance-competition-cum-low-ring circus, has been working Benicia, Vallejo, and then Oakland for, well, I don’t know how many years because they don’t have a website. Nine? In all that time it’s still undergroundish, and seems to like it that way.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But you can tell Kennedy and crew have been doing this a long time. They start with exactly the sort of hug-your-neighbor we used to “build community” in church, and just like in church, it loosened everyone up. Know thy audience. Rather than offering a main event with side shows, \u003cb>Tourette’s\u003c/b> combines variety show with game show for a balanced and rhythmic flow of high-energy scenes: the slam judges introduced themselves by mimicking psychotic animals; two previous “dirty haiku” champions faced off in three rounds; a sick beatboxing duo gave a perfectly timed set; a surreal Burlesque/performance group combined a flute, some high-flown language, and a Snow White strip-tease, etc.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "ad",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": "fullwidth"
},
"numeric": [
"fullwidth"
]
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>None of these segments went on too long, and each one had at least one of the necessary elements: real talent, riveting weirdness, or a completely confident and unashamed person being creatively humiliated.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>What would, in a lesser show, be the main events — the poetry slam and the freestyle rap battle — were necessarily the least controllable portions of a show that emphasizes skill. And sure enough, the slam featured too much abstraction, plus the inevitable girl in a short skirt blowing a piece about her piece; the battlers all spent half their sets thinking, to a rhythm of unconvincing “yo’s.” But these segments, thanks to the variety show feel, didn’t have to carry more than their fair share of the burden.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>While it was clear the hosts and contestants were performing a more extreme political incorrectness than they probably professed offstage, this was just as clearly being used to oil up the audience and for no other purpose. There is nothing laudable or challenging about political incorrectness for its own sake, but \u003cb>Tourette’s\u003c/b> is not challenging, cutting edge culture. Its purpose is pure entertainment, and within that, the showcasing of utterly accessible talent. I could see getting mighty weary of it in time, but then I’m not the target audience.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>Tourette’s Without Regrets\u003c/b> is the first Thursday of every month [THIS THURSDAY, May 1, 2008] from 9 pm to midnight, although you should arrive at 8 pm if you want a seat. The show should return to its longtime venue at the Oakland Metro in June. Until then, to find out where the next show will be, email Jamie (tongueartillery at yahoo dot com) to get on the mailing list or check out the \u003ca href=\"http://www.myspace.com/touretteswithoutregrets\" target=\"offsite\" rel=\"noopener\">Tourette’s MySpace page\u003c/a>.\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
}
],
"link": "/arts/22560/tourettes_without_regrets",
"authors": [
"30"
],
"categories": [
"arts_967"
],
"label": "arts"
},
"arts_22550": {
"type": "posts",
"id": "arts_22550",
"meta": {
"index": "posts_1716263798",
"site": "arts",
"id": "22550",
"score": null,
"sort": [
1207179921000
]
},
"parent": 0,
"labelTerm": {
"site": "arts"
},
"blocks": [],
"publishDate": 1207179921,
"format": "standard",
"title": "Tragedy: A Tragedy",
"headTitle": "Tragedy: A Tragedy | KQED",
"content": "\u003cp>The one thing contemporary first world artists have in common is overwhelming self-consciousness. It can be the self-awareness that turns knowingness into illumination, or it can be the stultifying egotism that so completely mines its own personal history that it misses every imaginative byway.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>If Will Eno’s \u003cb>Tragedy: A Tragedy\u003c/b> (in its American premiere at Berkeley Rep) has one extended moment of insight, it is that our public consciousness is ruled by the latter. The play is all-night television news coverage from the long dark night of the soul: Eno’s or anyone’s. An anchorman, three field reporters, and a witness take turns describing what they call the capital-N “Night,” a night that has fallen like any other, but then taken on extra weight, leaving observers wondering if it will ever end.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>A very literal set defines and entraps each character in a limited space. The aging anchorman sits in the television studio, his half-sphere of movement circumscribed by the half-circle of the desk; the legal expert stands in front of neo-classical courthouse columns or ducks purposefully between them; the experienced reporter stands upstage, facing an imaginary camera, or defies the camera by sitting down on the grass; the female human-interest reporter stands behind an empty house on a small mound of grass, or paces a few steps back to apply lipstick and talk on her cell phone.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Each character, fixed in space, monologues in turn, lyrically describing nothing, passing the word to the next character or back to the anchor in complicated figures. The effect is soporific; I had never appreciated before how important onstage movement is, keeping the eye tracking and the conscious brain working. I dozed off several times and only jerked completely awake when the previously speechless witness got up to deliver the final monologue.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Happily, I didn’t miss much in the details I slept through. The play is a temporal and spatial spiral, following the downward movement of the clichéd “night,” in which one’s soul is laid bare to oneself and one caves to the bleakness or beauty of reality. Or something. Each character succumbs to despair: the downward spiral is inevitable, immediately discernable, and overwhelms the details that decorate its path. As a formal exercise, it’s direct; as a joke, it’s a one-liner; as a play, it’s not.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Eno is often compared to Beckett, but in \u003cb>Tragedy\u003c/b> he owes more to the regressive, memoirish strain of contemporary literary fiction. Where Beckett amuses and stultifies with rapid and repetitive action and dialogue, Eno sticks to aggressively poetic monologues that keep each character physically constrained. \u003cb>Tragedy\u003c/b> stubbornly refuses to use the stage as a traffic pattern, opting instead for a static canvas … or a television screen.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I thought at first the piece was a piss-take on American letters, in its obsession with false lyricism and seemingly meaningful, but actually pointless detail. Watching the characters standing in fixed positions giving into train-of-thought blow-by-blows that would make D.H. Lawrence look like a minimalist, reminded me of nothing so much as a student fiction reading. But since the playwright never broke out of this voice, in the end I couldn’t tell if he was intentionally parodying or unintentionally self-parodying.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The performances, like the set and lighting, were technically on target, but the play left little scope for imaginative rendering. Relatively brief at seventy minutes, \u003cb>Tragedy: A Tragedy\u003c/b> delivered precisely what it promised, on time, with humor, and with no surprises.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>Tragedy: A Tragedy\u003c/b> runs through April 13, 2008 at the Berkeley Repertory Theatre. For \u003ca href=\"http://berkeleyrep.org/ticketing/calendar/index.aspx\" target=\"offsite\" rel=\"noopener\">tickets and information\u003c/a> visit berkeleyrep.org.\u003c/p>\n\n",
"stats": {
"hasVideo": false,
"hasChartOrMap": false,
"hasAudio": false,
"hasPolis": false,
"wordCount": 633,
"hasGoogleForm": false,
"hasGallery": false,
"hasHearkenModule": false,
"iframeSrcs": [],
"paragraphCount": 11
},
"modified": 1705053176,
"excerpt": "The one thing contemporary first world artists have in common is overwhelming self-consciousness. It can be the self-awareness that turns knowingness into illumination, or it can be the stultifying egotism that so completely mines its own personal history that it misses every imaginative byway.",
"headData": {
"twImgId": "",
"twTitle": "",
"ogTitle": "",
"ogImgId": "",
"twDescription": "",
"description": "The one thing contemporary first world artists have in common is overwhelming self-consciousness. It can be the self-awareness that turns knowingness into illumination, or it can be the stultifying egotism that so completely mines its own personal history that it misses every imaginative byway.",
"title": "Tragedy: A Tragedy | KQED",
"ogDescription": "",
"schema": {
"@context": "https://schema.org",
"@type": "Article",
"headline": "Tragedy: A Tragedy",
"datePublished": "2008-04-02T16:45:21-07:00",
"dateModified": "2024-01-12T01:52:56-08:00",
"image": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/02/KQED-OG-Image@1x.png"
}
},
"guestAuthors": [],
"slug": "tragedy_a_tragedy",
"status": "publish",
"sourceUrl": "http://www.kqed.org/arts/category/performance/performance-review/",
"sticky": false,
"path": "/arts/22550/tragedy_a_tragedy",
"audioTrackLength": null,
"parsedContent": [
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>The one thing contemporary first world artists have in common is overwhelming self-consciousness. It can be the self-awareness that turns knowingness into illumination, or it can be the stultifying egotism that so completely mines its own personal history that it misses every imaginative byway.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>If Will Eno’s \u003cb>Tragedy: A Tragedy\u003c/b> (in its American premiere at Berkeley Rep) has one extended moment of insight, it is that our public consciousness is ruled by the latter. The play is all-night television news coverage from the long dark night of the soul: Eno’s or anyone’s. An anchorman, three field reporters, and a witness take turns describing what they call the capital-N “Night,” a night that has fallen like any other, but then taken on extra weight, leaving observers wondering if it will ever end.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>A very literal set defines and entraps each character in a limited space. The aging anchorman sits in the television studio, his half-sphere of movement circumscribed by the half-circle of the desk; the legal expert stands in front of neo-classical courthouse columns or ducks purposefully between them; the experienced reporter stands upstage, facing an imaginary camera, or defies the camera by sitting down on the grass; the female human-interest reporter stands behind an empty house on a small mound of grass, or paces a few steps back to apply lipstick and talk on her cell phone.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Each character, fixed in space, monologues in turn, lyrically describing nothing, passing the word to the next character or back to the anchor in complicated figures. The effect is soporific; I had never appreciated before how important onstage movement is, keeping the eye tracking and the conscious brain working. I dozed off several times and only jerked completely awake when the previously speechless witness got up to deliver the final monologue.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Happily, I didn’t miss much in the details I slept through. The play is a temporal and spatial spiral, following the downward movement of the clichéd “night,” in which one’s soul is laid bare to oneself and one caves to the bleakness or beauty of reality. Or something. Each character succumbs to despair: the downward spiral is inevitable, immediately discernable, and overwhelms the details that decorate its path. As a formal exercise, it’s direct; as a joke, it’s a one-liner; as a play, it’s not.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "ad",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": "fullwidth"
},
"numeric": [
"fullwidth"
]
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Eno is often compared to Beckett, but in \u003cb>Tragedy\u003c/b> he owes more to the regressive, memoirish strain of contemporary literary fiction. Where Beckett amuses and stultifies with rapid and repetitive action and dialogue, Eno sticks to aggressively poetic monologues that keep each character physically constrained. \u003cb>Tragedy\u003c/b> stubbornly refuses to use the stage as a traffic pattern, opting instead for a static canvas … or a television screen.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I thought at first the piece was a piss-take on American letters, in its obsession with false lyricism and seemingly meaningful, but actually pointless detail. Watching the characters standing in fixed positions giving into train-of-thought blow-by-blows that would make D.H. Lawrence look like a minimalist, reminded me of nothing so much as a student fiction reading. But since the playwright never broke out of this voice, in the end I couldn’t tell if he was intentionally parodying or unintentionally self-parodying.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The performances, like the set and lighting, were technically on target, but the play left little scope for imaginative rendering. Relatively brief at seventy minutes, \u003cb>Tragedy: A Tragedy\u003c/b> delivered precisely what it promised, on time, with humor, and with no surprises.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>Tragedy: A Tragedy\u003c/b> runs through April 13, 2008 at the Berkeley Repertory Theatre. For \u003ca href=\"http://berkeleyrep.org/ticketing/calendar/index.aspx\" target=\"offsite\" rel=\"noopener\">tickets and information\u003c/a> visit berkeleyrep.org.\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
}
],
"link": "/arts/22550/tragedy_a_tragedy",
"authors": [
"30"
],
"categories": [
"arts_967"
],
"label": "arts"
},
"arts_22500": {
"type": "posts",
"id": "arts_22500",
"meta": {
"index": "posts_1716263798",
"site": "arts",
"id": "22500",
"score": null,
"sort": [
1206648204000
]
},
"parent": 0,
"labelTerm": {
"site": "arts"
},
"blocks": [],
"publishDate": 1206648204,
"format": "standard",
"title": "Lysistrata at City Lights",
"headTitle": "Lysistrata at City Lights | KQED",
"content": "\u003cp>\u003cb>Lysistrata\u003c/b>, now playing at City Lights in San Jose, opens with Diahanna Davidson, who gives a penetrating performance in the play’s titular role, screaming at the top of her lungs. As a harbinger of things to come, this pretty much nails it. Director and adaptor Will Huddleston’s \u003cb>Lysistrata\u003c/b> is a noisy and orgiastic affair, in which actors bellow, moan, shriek, and thunder their lines to the heavens, as if their collective feet were pushing against the theater’s very rafters.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Always a comedy, in Huddleston’s hands Aristophanes’s seminal work is really more of a farce, with all the subtlety of a Pyramus and Thisbe skit performed by randy players in the heat of coitus. I don’t have a problem with that, honest to Peter, and on the night I attended, most of the audience hooted and applauded Huddleston’s endless double entendres (I lost count at 69) and four-letter epithets like demented cheerleaders from The Society for the Enraptured Embrace of Moral Decay. Which is to say, they were having a hell of a good time. I wanted to give up and join the bawdy and irreverent enterprise, but I kept wondering what Aristophanes would have thought of this remake of his 2,500-year-old seminal work. Being your basic old-school satirist, he was probably a bit more concerned with the message of his piece rather than its style. Stiff that he was, he actually had something to say.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Huddleston does too, as an early exchange between Lysistrata and Kleonike (Beverly Griffith) suggests. Kleo, as Lysistrata calls her, is ready to help her friend bring the men of Athens to their knees, for a change, and cease their irrational and infantile war-making. As long, that is, as Kleo thinks Lysistrata’s remedy is to go shopping. “You make your country stronger when you buy things,” she proclaims, in an overly obvious reference to George Bush’s almost identical and equally cynical advice to the nation in the wake of 9/11. “New slippers!” she squeals. “I feel so patriotic!” Yeah, I get it, but couldn’t Huddleston have found a fresher topical reference to insert into his adaptation? Was \u003ca href=\"http://www.huffingtonpost.com/\" target=\"offsite\" rel=\"noopener\">The Huffington Post\u003c/a> down?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Of course, what Lysistrata actually has in mind is that the women of Greece should sue for peace by withholding piece of ass, which takes some convincing since the women of Athens are every bit the sexual athletes as the men. Heidi Kobara has a nice turn as Lampito, Lysistrata’s Spartan counterpart, and watching her and Davidson use their tongues to persuade the skeptical women of Greece to rebuff the amorous advances of their manly men is great stuff.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>And then, I’m afraid, things kinda go limp. Not for the lack of convincing performances. Ironically the best are by the male members of the cast. Ron Talbot, who has made a name for himself locally by playing serious men with serious words to say, successfully stretches his comedic wings by playing another: Socrates. Here the great philosopher is subjected to numerous physical and psychological indignities, which decorum prevents from enumerating here. Talbot’s Socrates rises to the occasion. Thom Gorrebeeck excels in several roles, from a masked Viagrus, who delivers his lines like a stoned Muppet, to Kinesias, whose swollen member (he calls it Hercules) turns out to be a mere preview of the phallic wonders to come. Also terrific are the magistrate (Tom Gough), his daughter Dawn (Nina Harada), and the magistrate’s mother (Molly Thornton), whose confrontation with Gough is hilarious. A commanding presence on stage, with an expressive face and winning gestures that come off like perfectly natural ad libs, Gough’s autocratic magistrate reverts to mortified teenager in a heartbeat when faced with his proud and defiant mom’s “metaphors.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>And then, before we even realize it has happened, the play becomes a war of words, the main one being “f@$#,” which Huddleston gratuitously tosses around until it goes flaccid. The first instance is the most effective. It features Socrates and Xantippe (Shannon Stowe, who also did the show’s choreography and served as the play’s assistant director) trading increasingly engorged “F yous” until Socrates backs down. Runner up: Dawn’s defiance of her authoritarian father (put “daddy” at the end of that phrase, and it’ll get a laugh every time).\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Sitting in the audience, one is caught in this verbal crossfire of style versus substance. At the top of the show, the women were indignant, remember? At least Lysistrata was, but when Huddleston opens the second half of the play by having his heroine declare that the women of Athens are suffering because they need to get laid, in the same, earnest, full-throated voice that she had used to trumpet her politics, the moral authority of her character is sucked dry. She should be the ground to the circus going on around her. Instead, she becomes part of the mob, which makes Huddleston’s humor seem imprudent and his cheeky, “look what I just saw on \u003cb>YouTube\u003c/b>” references feel tired and dated.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Indeed, for all the pop-culture and contemporary-politics references, a very important, if potentially undermining, one appears to have escaped Huddleston’s attention. Where in \u003cb>Lysistrata\u003c/b> is Hillary Clinton? Isn’t there a place here for her? Well, no, since she voted to authorize the current nightmare in Iraq (hardly the thing our heroine would have done). Back when it might have made a difference, it was a male named Barak Obama who rose, like the women of Athens, to the call of peace. How does Huddleston reconcile this inconvenient sexual anti-stereotype? He doesn’t, contenting himself instead to toss gags at the groundlings.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>Lysistrata\u003c/b> continues at City Lights Theater Company through April 20, 2008. 529 S. Second Street, San Jose, (408) 295-4200. For \u003ca href=\"http://www.cltc.org/\" target=\"offsite\" rel=\"noopener\">tickets and information\u003c/a> vist cltc.org.\u003c/p>\n\n",
"stats": {
"hasVideo": false,
"hasChartOrMap": false,
"hasAudio": false,
"hasPolis": false,
"wordCount": 1029,
"hasGoogleForm": false,
"hasGallery": false,
"hasHearkenModule": false,
"iframeSrcs": [],
"paragraphCount": 11
},
"modified": 1705053185,
"excerpt": "\u003cb>Lysistrata\u003c/b>, now playing at City Lights in San Jose, opens with Diahanna Davidson, who gives a penetrating performance in the play's titular role, screaming at the top of her lungs. As a harbinger of things to come, this pretty much nails it. Director and adaptor Will Huddleston's \u003cb>Lysistrata\u003c/b> is a noisy and orgiastic affair, in which actors bellow, moan, shriek, and thunder their lines to the heavens, as if their collective feet were pushing against the theater's very rafters.",
"headData": {
"twImgId": "",
"twTitle": "",
"ogTitle": "",
"ogImgId": "",
"twDescription": "",
"description": "Lysistrata, now playing at City Lights in San Jose, opens with Diahanna Davidson, who gives a penetrating performance in the play's titular role, screaming at the top of her lungs. As a harbinger of things to come, this pretty much nails it. Director and adaptor Will Huddleston's Lysistrata is a noisy and orgiastic affair, in which actors bellow, moan, shriek, and thunder their lines to the heavens, as if their collective feet were pushing against the theater's very rafters.",
"title": "Lysistrata at City Lights | KQED",
"ogDescription": "",
"schema": {
"@context": "https://schema.org",
"@type": "Article",
"headline": "Lysistrata at City Lights",
"datePublished": "2008-03-27T13:03:24-07:00",
"dateModified": "2024-01-12T01:53:05-08:00",
"image": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/02/KQED-OG-Image@1x.png"
}
},
"guestAuthors": [],
"slug": "lysistrata_at_city_lights",
"status": "publish",
"sourceUrl": "http://www.kqed.org/arts/category/performance/performance-review/",
"sticky": false,
"path": "/arts/22500/lysistrata_at_city_lights",
"audioTrackLength": null,
"parsedContent": [
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>\u003cb>Lysistrata\u003c/b>, now playing at City Lights in San Jose, opens with Diahanna Davidson, who gives a penetrating performance in the play’s titular role, screaming at the top of her lungs. As a harbinger of things to come, this pretty much nails it. Director and adaptor Will Huddleston’s \u003cb>Lysistrata\u003c/b> is a noisy and orgiastic affair, in which actors bellow, moan, shriek, and thunder their lines to the heavens, as if their collective feet were pushing against the theater’s very rafters.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Always a comedy, in Huddleston’s hands Aristophanes’s seminal work is really more of a farce, with all the subtlety of a Pyramus and Thisbe skit performed by randy players in the heat of coitus. I don’t have a problem with that, honest to Peter, and on the night I attended, most of the audience hooted and applauded Huddleston’s endless double entendres (I lost count at 69) and four-letter epithets like demented cheerleaders from The Society for the Enraptured Embrace of Moral Decay. Which is to say, they were having a hell of a good time. I wanted to give up and join the bawdy and irreverent enterprise, but I kept wondering what Aristophanes would have thought of this remake of his 2,500-year-old seminal work. Being your basic old-school satirist, he was probably a bit more concerned with the message of his piece rather than its style. Stiff that he was, he actually had something to say.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Huddleston does too, as an early exchange between Lysistrata and Kleonike (Beverly Griffith) suggests. Kleo, as Lysistrata calls her, is ready to help her friend bring the men of Athens to their knees, for a change, and cease their irrational and infantile war-making. As long, that is, as Kleo thinks Lysistrata’s remedy is to go shopping. “You make your country stronger when you buy things,” she proclaims, in an overly obvious reference to George Bush’s almost identical and equally cynical advice to the nation in the wake of 9/11. “New slippers!” she squeals. “I feel so patriotic!” Yeah, I get it, but couldn’t Huddleston have found a fresher topical reference to insert into his adaptation? Was \u003ca href=\"http://www.huffingtonpost.com/\" target=\"offsite\" rel=\"noopener\">The Huffington Post\u003c/a> down?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Of course, what Lysistrata actually has in mind is that the women of Greece should sue for peace by withholding piece of ass, which takes some convincing since the women of Athens are every bit the sexual athletes as the men. Heidi Kobara has a nice turn as Lampito, Lysistrata’s Spartan counterpart, and watching her and Davidson use their tongues to persuade the skeptical women of Greece to rebuff the amorous advances of their manly men is great stuff.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>And then, I’m afraid, things kinda go limp. Not for the lack of convincing performances. Ironically the best are by the male members of the cast. Ron Talbot, who has made a name for himself locally by playing serious men with serious words to say, successfully stretches his comedic wings by playing another: Socrates. Here the great philosopher is subjected to numerous physical and psychological indignities, which decorum prevents from enumerating here. Talbot’s Socrates rises to the occasion. Thom Gorrebeeck excels in several roles, from a masked Viagrus, who delivers his lines like a stoned Muppet, to Kinesias, whose swollen member (he calls it Hercules) turns out to be a mere preview of the phallic wonders to come. Also terrific are the magistrate (Tom Gough), his daughter Dawn (Nina Harada), and the magistrate’s mother (Molly Thornton), whose confrontation with Gough is hilarious. A commanding presence on stage, with an expressive face and winning gestures that come off like perfectly natural ad libs, Gough’s autocratic magistrate reverts to mortified teenager in a heartbeat when faced with his proud and defiant mom’s “metaphors.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "ad",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": "fullwidth"
},
"numeric": [
"fullwidth"
]
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>And then, before we even realize it has happened, the play becomes a war of words, the main one being “f@$#,” which Huddleston gratuitously tosses around until it goes flaccid. The first instance is the most effective. It features Socrates and Xantippe (Shannon Stowe, who also did the show’s choreography and served as the play’s assistant director) trading increasingly engorged “F yous” until Socrates backs down. Runner up: Dawn’s defiance of her authoritarian father (put “daddy” at the end of that phrase, and it’ll get a laugh every time).\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Sitting in the audience, one is caught in this verbal crossfire of style versus substance. At the top of the show, the women were indignant, remember? At least Lysistrata was, but when Huddleston opens the second half of the play by having his heroine declare that the women of Athens are suffering because they need to get laid, in the same, earnest, full-throated voice that she had used to trumpet her politics, the moral authority of her character is sucked dry. She should be the ground to the circus going on around her. Instead, she becomes part of the mob, which makes Huddleston’s humor seem imprudent and his cheeky, “look what I just saw on \u003cb>YouTube\u003c/b>” references feel tired and dated.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Indeed, for all the pop-culture and contemporary-politics references, a very important, if potentially undermining, one appears to have escaped Huddleston’s attention. Where in \u003cb>Lysistrata\u003c/b> is Hillary Clinton? Isn’t there a place here for her? Well, no, since she voted to authorize the current nightmare in Iraq (hardly the thing our heroine would have done). Back when it might have made a difference, it was a male named Barak Obama who rose, like the women of Athens, to the call of peace. How does Huddleston reconcile this inconvenient sexual anti-stereotype? He doesn’t, contenting himself instead to toss gags at the groundlings.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>Lysistrata\u003c/b> continues at City Lights Theater Company through April 20, 2008. 529 S. Second Street, San Jose, (408) 295-4200. For \u003ca href=\"http://www.cltc.org/\" target=\"offsite\" rel=\"noopener\">tickets and information\u003c/a> vist cltc.org.\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
}
],
"link": "/arts/22500/lysistrata_at_city_lights",
"authors": [
"26"
],
"categories": [
"arts_967"
],
"label": "arts"
},
"arts_22445": {
"type": "posts",
"id": "arts_22445",
"meta": {
"index": "posts_1716263798",
"site": "arts",
"id": "22445",
"score": null,
"sort": [
1205456634000
]
},
"parent": 0,
"labelTerm": {
"site": "arts"
},
"blocks": [],
"publishDate": 1205456634,
"format": "standard",
"title": "June In A Box",
"headTitle": "June In A Box | KQED",
"content": "\u003cp>The temptation to make magic out of the Tucson desert is overwhelming for children. So hot it makes you shiver, so dusty and dry it takes a neophyte years to see life there, the saguaro desert is a vast, supernatural garbage dump where things thrown away always come back deformed and blanched out of exposition by the sun.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>On the extreme end of this continuum of childish magic would be the \u003ca href=\"http://www.tucsonweekly.com/gbase/currents/Content?oid=oid:51585\" target=\"offsite\" rel=\"noopener\">true story\u003c/a> of a little girl buried alive in a box in the desert for nineteen days. Being a Tucsonan herself, that girl might be forgiven for calmly expecting the desert to eventually give her back; and years later for trying to uncover the secret of her transformation.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>This the end of the stick that Octavio Solis gets ahold of in his new play \u003cb>June In A Box\u003c/b>. A collaboration with Intersection for the Arts’ resident theater company Campo Santo and composer Beth Custer, \u003cb>June In A Box\u003c/b> jumps off of a corrido written shortly after the 1934 June Robles kidnapping and takes its cues equally from folk song, sensationalist newspaper reports, and an array of pop culture convergences. It is a classic musical, an oral history, and a fairy tale questioning its own happy ending.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Eighty-one-year-old June (Denise Blasor) is drawn out to the desert one night by a song. She finds two coyotes (Luis Saguar and Mark David Pinate) singing the corrido of June Robles, a six-year-old girl held by kidnappers in an underground box. The coyotes lead June back to her child self (Gracie Solis), still trapped in the box after 75 years, to relive that buried part of her life and, she hopes, finally set the child free.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The production, as one would expect from Campo Santo and Intersection, is simple and effective. The underground box dominates a corrugated metal and wood set hinting at the Depression-era context of the incident. The adult performances are solid, and Mark David Pinate phase-shifts particularly effectively between archetypal coyote, scared kidnapper, and frightened father.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Solis and Custer use the musical numbers to recast the action in pop culture tropes, offering subtext, but not — as in traditional musicals — character development. The resulting performance of the nineteen days of captivity recalls \u003cb>Annie\u003c/b> (in the child’s costume, song and dance, and aggressive innocence), coyote and roadrunner (in a fun song about a jackrabbit), and even \u003cb>Cats\u003c/b> (in the canine affect and howling singing of the coyotes). With the exception of a ditty about solitude — standard to every Broadway musical on the books — the music is a formally challenging counterpoint to the monologue-heavy dialogue.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But Solis has little time left after the musical numbers to do much more than complete the storytelling. Shifts in perspective across June’s family members go a long way towards texturing the chaos of search and investigation, but June’s own experience in the box gets short shrift.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>At its base, this is still a horror story: a girl is buried alive in the desert for nearly three weeks. What does that do to a child? What does that child come back as? Whether through fairy tale or bleak naturalism, whether from the point of view of the adult or the child victim, the story of June’s nineteen days in the box is the story that \u003cb>June In A Box\u003c/b> promises — the compelling, sensational story we expect — but this is almost the only story the play doesn’t deliver.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I found myself wondering if Solis had hobbled himself by casting and directing his own daughter as the young June. That might have been an irresistible incentive to soft-pedal the child’s terror and pain. Gracie Solis isn’t given much to do here besides assert her childishness (the actor is twelve years old), and whenever the action threatens to investigate her solitary wait underground, the play’s attention slides away from June to zero in on another of her tortured, bewildered, or selfish family members.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>It’s an effective way to tell the tale, but not the story. Because, although it takes on adult voices, \u003cb>June In A Box\u003c/b> only makes sense as a story told by a child trying to find magic in the faded image of what the desert gave back. As imaginative and fruitful as this collaboration is — and it’s very enjoyable — Solis doesn’t manage to maintain this frame, or any other, consistently. And our questions about June remain unanswered.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>June In A Box\u003c/b> runs through March 31, 2008 at Intersection for the Arts, 446 Valencia Street in San Francisco. For \u003ca>tickets and information\u003c/a> visit theintersection.org.\u003c/p>\n\n",
"stats": {
"hasVideo": false,
"hasChartOrMap": false,
"hasAudio": false,
"hasPolis": false,
"wordCount": 798,
"hasGoogleForm": false,
"hasGallery": false,
"hasHearkenModule": false,
"iframeSrcs": [],
"paragraphCount": 13
},
"modified": 1705053193,
"excerpt": "The temptation to make magic out of the Tucson desert is overwhelming for children. So hot it makes you shiver, so dusty and dry it takes a neophyte years to see life there, the saguaro desert is a vast, supernatural garbage dump where things thrown away always come back deformed and blanched out of exposition by the sun. ",
"headData": {
"twImgId": "",
"twTitle": "",
"ogTitle": "",
"ogImgId": "",
"twDescription": "",
"description": "The temptation to make magic out of the Tucson desert is overwhelming for children. So hot it makes you shiver, so dusty and dry it takes a neophyte years to see life there, the saguaro desert is a vast, supernatural garbage dump where things thrown away always come back deformed and blanched out of exposition by the sun. ",
"title": "June In A Box | KQED",
"ogDescription": "",
"schema": {
"@context": "https://schema.org",
"@type": "Article",
"headline": "June In A Box",
"datePublished": "2008-03-13T18:03:54-07:00",
"dateModified": "2024-01-12T01:53:13-08:00",
"image": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/02/KQED-OG-Image@1x.png"
}
},
"guestAuthors": [],
"slug": "june_in_a_box",
"status": "publish",
"sourceUrl": "http://www.kqed.org/arts/category/performance/performance-review/",
"sticky": false,
"path": "/arts/22445/june_in_a_box",
"audioTrackLength": null,
"parsedContent": [
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>The temptation to make magic out of the Tucson desert is overwhelming for children. So hot it makes you shiver, so dusty and dry it takes a neophyte years to see life there, the saguaro desert is a vast, supernatural garbage dump where things thrown away always come back deformed and blanched out of exposition by the sun.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>On the extreme end of this continuum of childish magic would be the \u003ca href=\"http://www.tucsonweekly.com/gbase/currents/Content?oid=oid:51585\" target=\"offsite\" rel=\"noopener\">true story\u003c/a> of a little girl buried alive in a box in the desert for nineteen days. Being a Tucsonan herself, that girl might be forgiven for calmly expecting the desert to eventually give her back; and years later for trying to uncover the secret of her transformation.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>This the end of the stick that Octavio Solis gets ahold of in his new play \u003cb>June In A Box\u003c/b>. A collaboration with Intersection for the Arts’ resident theater company Campo Santo and composer Beth Custer, \u003cb>June In A Box\u003c/b> jumps off of a corrido written shortly after the 1934 June Robles kidnapping and takes its cues equally from folk song, sensationalist newspaper reports, and an array of pop culture convergences. It is a classic musical, an oral history, and a fairy tale questioning its own happy ending.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Eighty-one-year-old June (Denise Blasor) is drawn out to the desert one night by a song. She finds two coyotes (Luis Saguar and Mark David Pinate) singing the corrido of June Robles, a six-year-old girl held by kidnappers in an underground box. The coyotes lead June back to her child self (Gracie Solis), still trapped in the box after 75 years, to relive that buried part of her life and, she hopes, finally set the child free.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The production, as one would expect from Campo Santo and Intersection, is simple and effective. The underground box dominates a corrugated metal and wood set hinting at the Depression-era context of the incident. The adult performances are solid, and Mark David Pinate phase-shifts particularly effectively between archetypal coyote, scared kidnapper, and frightened father.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
},
{
"type": "component",
"content": "",
"name": "ad",
"attributes": {
"named": {
"label": "fullwidth"
},
"numeric": [
"fullwidth"
]
}
},
{
"type": "contentString",
"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Solis and Custer use the musical numbers to recast the action in pop culture tropes, offering subtext, but not — as in traditional musicals — character development. The resulting performance of the nineteen days of captivity recalls \u003cb>Annie\u003c/b> (in the child’s costume, song and dance, and aggressive innocence), coyote and roadrunner (in a fun song about a jackrabbit), and even \u003cb>Cats\u003c/b> (in the canine affect and howling singing of the coyotes). With the exception of a ditty about solitude — standard to every Broadway musical on the books — the music is a formally challenging counterpoint to the monologue-heavy dialogue.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But Solis has little time left after the musical numbers to do much more than complete the storytelling. Shifts in perspective across June’s family members go a long way towards texturing the chaos of search and investigation, but June’s own experience in the box gets short shrift.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>At its base, this is still a horror story: a girl is buried alive in the desert for nearly three weeks. What does that do to a child? What does that child come back as? Whether through fairy tale or bleak naturalism, whether from the point of view of the adult or the child victim, the story of June’s nineteen days in the box is the story that \u003cb>June In A Box\u003c/b> promises — the compelling, sensational story we expect — but this is almost the only story the play doesn’t deliver.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I found myself wondering if Solis had hobbled himself by casting and directing his own daughter as the young June. That might have been an irresistible incentive to soft-pedal the child’s terror and pain. Gracie Solis isn’t given much to do here besides assert her childishness (the actor is twelve years old), and whenever the action threatens to investigate her solitary wait underground, the play’s attention slides away from June to zero in on another of her tortured, bewildered, or selfish family members.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>It’s an effective way to tell the tale, but not the story. Because, although it takes on adult voices, \u003cb>June In A Box\u003c/b> only makes sense as a story told by a child trying to find magic in the faded image of what the desert gave back. As imaginative and fruitful as this collaboration is — and it’s very enjoyable — Solis doesn’t manage to maintain this frame, or any other, consistently. And our questions about June remain unanswered.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>June In A Box\u003c/b> runs through March 31, 2008 at Intersection for the Arts, 446 Valencia Street in San Francisco. For \u003ca>tickets and information\u003c/a> visit theintersection.org.\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
"attributes": {
"named": {},
"numeric": []
}
}
],
"link": "/arts/22445/june_in_a_box",
"authors": [
"92"
],
"categories": [
"arts_967"
],
"label": "arts"
}
},
"podcastsReducer": {
"isFetching": false,
"fetchFailed": false,
"hasFetched": false,
"podcasts": {}
},
"radioProgramsReducer": {
"isFetching": false,
"fetchFailed": false,
"hasFetched": false,
"radioPrograms": {}
},
"radioSearchSegmentsReducer": {},
"programsReducer": {
"all-things-considered": {
"id": "all-things-considered",
"title": "All Things Considered",
"info": "Every weekday, \u003cem>All Things Considered\u003c/em> hosts Robert Siegel, Audie Cornish, Ari Shapiro, and Kelly McEvers present the program's trademark mix of news, interviews, commentaries, reviews, and offbeat features. Michel Martin hosts on the weekends.",
"airtime": "MON-FRI 1pm-2pm, 4:30pm-6:30pm\u003cbr />SAT-SUN 5pm-6pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/All-Things-Considered-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.npr.org/programs/all-things-considered/",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "npr"
},
"link": "/radio/program/all-things-considered"
},
"american-suburb-podcast": {
"id": "american-suburb-podcast",
"title": "American Suburb: The Podcast",
"tagline": "The flip side of gentrification, told through one town",
"info": "Gentrification is changing cities across America, forcing people from neighborhoods they have long called home. Call them the displaced. Now those priced out of the Bay Area are looking for a better life in an unlikely place. American Suburb follows this migration to one California town along the Delta, 45 miles from San Francisco. But is this once sleepy suburb ready for them?",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/American-Suburb-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/news/series/american-suburb-podcast",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 19
},
"link": "/news/series/american-suburb-podcast/",
"subscribe": {
"npr": "https://rpb3r.app.goo.gl/RBrW",
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewPodcast?mt=2&id=1287748328",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/American-Suburb-p1086805/",
"rss": "https://ww2.kqed.org/news/series/american-suburb-podcast/feed/podcast",
"google": "https://podcasts.google.com/feed/aHR0cHM6Ly9mZWVkcy5tZWdhcGhvbmUuZm0vS1FJTkMzMDExODgxNjA5"
}
},
"baycurious": {
"id": "baycurious",
"title": "Bay Curious",
"tagline": "Exploring the Bay Area, one question at a time",
"info": "KQED’s new podcast, Bay Curious, gets to the bottom of the mysteries — both profound and peculiar — that give the Bay Area its unique identity. And we’ll do it with your help! You ask the questions. You decide what Bay Curious investigates. And you join us on the journey to find the answers.",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Bay-Curious-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
"imageAlt": "KQED Bay Curious",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/news/series/baycurious",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 3
},
"link": "/podcasts/baycurious",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/bay-curious/id1172473406",
"npr": "https://www.npr.org/podcasts/500557090/bay-curious",
"rss": "https://ww2.kqed.org/news/category/bay-curious-podcast/feed/podcast",
"amazon": "https://music.amazon.com/podcasts/9a90d476-aa04-455d-9a4c-0871ed6216d4/bay-curious",
"stitcher": "https://www.stitcher.com/podcast/kqed/bay-curious",
"spotify": "https://open.spotify.com/show/6O76IdmhixfijmhTZLIJ8k"
}
},
"bbc-world-service": {
"id": "bbc-world-service",
"title": "BBC World Service",
"info": "The day's top stories from BBC News compiled twice daily in the week, once at weekends.",
"airtime": "MON-FRI 9pm-10pm, TUE-FRI 1am-2am",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/BBC-World-Service-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.bbc.co.uk/sounds/play/live:bbc_world_service",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "BBC World Service"
},
"link": "/radio/program/bbc-world-service",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/global-news-podcast/id135067274?mt=2",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/BBC-World-Service-p455581/",
"rss": "https://podcasts.files.bbci.co.uk/p02nq0gn.rss"
}
},
"californiareport": {
"id": "californiareport",
"title": "The California Report",
"tagline": "California, day by day",
"info": "KQED’s statewide radio news program providing daily coverage of issues, trends and public policy decisions.",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/The-California-Report-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
"imageAlt": "KQED The California Report",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/californiareport",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 8
},
"link": "/californiareport",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/kqeds-the-california-report/id79681292",
"amazon": "https://music.amazon.com/podcasts/26099305-72af-4542-9dde-ac1807fe36d5/kqed-s-the-california-report",
"npr": "https://www.npr.org/podcasts/432285393/the-california-report",
"stitcher": "https://www.stitcher.com/podcast/kqedfm-kqeds-the-california-report-podcast-8838",
"rss": "https://ww2.kqed.org/news/tag/tcram/feed/podcast"
}
},
"californiareportmagazine": {
"id": "californiareportmagazine",
"title": "The California Report Magazine",
"tagline": "Your state, your stories",
"info": "Every week, The California Report Magazine takes you on a road trip for the ears: to visit the places and meet the people who make California unique. The in-depth storytelling podcast from the California Report.",
"airtime": "FRI 4:30pm-5pm, 6:30pm-7pm, 11pm-11:30pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/The-California-Report-Magazine-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
"imageAlt": "KQED The California Report Magazine",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/californiareportmagazine",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 10
},
"link": "/californiareportmagazine",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/the-california-report-magazine/id1314750545",
"google": "https://podcasts.google.com/feed/aHR0cHM6Ly9mZWVkcy5tZWdhcGhvbmUuZm0vS1FJTkM3NjkwNjk1OTAz",
"npr": "https://www.npr.org/podcasts/564733126/the-california-report-magazine",
"stitcher": "https://www.stitcher.com/podcast/kqed/the-california-report-magazine",
"rss": "https://ww2.kqed.org/news/tag/tcrmag/feed/podcast"
}
},
"city-arts": {
"id": "city-arts",
"title": "City Arts & Lectures",
"info": "A one-hour radio program to hear celebrated writers, artists and thinkers address contemporary ideas and values, often discussing the creative process. Please note: tapes or transcripts are not available",
"imageSrc": "https://ww2.kqed.org/radio/wp-content/uploads/sites/50/2018/05/cityartsandlecture-300x300.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.cityarts.net/",
"airtime": "SUN 1pm-2pm, TUE 10pm, WED 1am",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "City Arts & Lectures"
},
"link": "https://www.cityarts.net",
"subscribe": {
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/City-Arts-and-Lectures-p692/",
"rss": "https://www.cityarts.net/feed/"
}
},
"closealltabs": {
"id": "closealltabs",
"title": "Close All Tabs",
"tagline": "Your irreverent guide to the trends redefining our world",
"info": "Close All Tabs breaks down how digital culture shapes our world through thoughtful insights and irreverent humor.",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/02/CAT_2_Tile-scaled.jpg",
"imageAlt": "KQED Close All Tabs",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/podcasts/closealltabs",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 1
},
"link": "/podcasts/closealltabs",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/close-all-tabs/id214663465",
"rss": "https://feeds.megaphone.fm/KQINC6993880386",
"amazon": "https://music.amazon.com/podcasts/92d9d4ac-67a3-4eed-b10a-fb45d45b1ef2/close-all-tabs",
"spotify": "https://open.spotify.com/show/6LAJFHnGK1pYXYzv6SIol6?si=deb0cae19813417c"
}
},
"code-switch-life-kit": {
"id": "code-switch-life-kit",
"title": "Code Switch / Life Kit",
"info": "\u003cem>Code Switch\u003c/em>, which listeners will hear in the first part of the hour, has fearless and much-needed conversations about race. Hosted by journalists of color, the show tackles the subject of race head-on, exploring how it impacts every part of society — from politics and pop culture to history, sports and more.\u003cbr />\u003cbr />\u003cem>Life Kit\u003c/em>, which will be in the second part of the hour, guides you through spaces and feelings no one prepares you for — from finances to mental health, from workplace microaggressions to imposter syndrome, from relationships to parenting. The show features experts with real world experience and shares their knowledge. Because everyone needs a little help being human.\u003cbr />\u003cbr />\u003ca href=\"https://www.npr.org/podcasts/510312/codeswitch\">\u003cem>Code Switch\u003c/em> offical site and podcast\u003c/a>\u003cbr />\u003ca href=\"https://www.npr.org/lifekit\">\u003cem>Life Kit\u003c/em> offical site and podcast\u003c/a>\u003cbr />",
"airtime": "SUN 9pm-10pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Code-Switch-Life-Kit-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"meta": {
"site": "radio",
"source": "npr"
},
"link": "/radio/program/code-switch-life-kit",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/podcast/1112190608?mt=2&at=11l79Y&ct=nprdirectory",
"google": "https://podcasts.google.com/feed/aHR0cHM6Ly93d3cubnByLm9yZy9yc3MvcG9kY2FzdC5waHA_aWQ9NTEwMzEy",
"spotify": "https://open.spotify.com/show/3bExJ9JQpkwNhoHvaIIuyV",
"rss": "https://feeds.npr.org/510312/podcast.xml"
}
},
"commonwealth-club": {
"id": "commonwealth-club",
"title": "Commonwealth Club of California Podcast",
"info": "The Commonwealth Club of California is the nation's oldest and largest public affairs forum. As a non-partisan forum, The Club brings to the public airwaves diverse viewpoints on important topics. The Club's weekly radio broadcast - the oldest in the U.S., dating back to 1924 - is carried across the nation on public radio stations and is now podcasting. Our website archive features audio of our recent programs, as well as selected speeches from our long and distinguished history. This podcast feed is usually updated twice a week and is always un-edited.",
"airtime": "THU 10pm, FRI 1am",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Commonwealth-Club-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.commonwealthclub.org/podcasts",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "Commonwealth Club of California"
},
"link": "/radio/program/commonwealth-club",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/commonwealth-club-of-california-podcast/id976334034?mt=2",
"google": "https://podcasts.google.com/feed/aHR0cDovL3d3dy5jb21tb253ZWFsdGhjbHViLm9yZy9hdWRpby9wb2RjYXN0L3dlZWtseS54bWw",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/Commonwealth-Club-of-California-p1060/"
}
},
"forum": {
"id": "forum",
"title": "Forum",
"tagline": "The conversation starts here",
"info": "KQED’s live call-in program discussing local, state, national and international issues, as well as in-depth interviews.",
"airtime": "MON-FRI 9am-11am, 10pm-11pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Forum-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
"imageAlt": "KQED Forum with Mina Kim and Alexis Madrigal",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/forum",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 9
},
"link": "/forum",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/kqeds-forum/id73329719",
"google": "https://podcasts.google.com/feed/aHR0cHM6Ly9mZWVkcy5tZWdhcGhvbmUuZm0vS1FJTkM5NTU3MzgxNjMz",
"npr": "https://www.npr.org/podcasts/432307980/forum",
"stitcher": "https://www.stitcher.com/podcast/kqedfm-kqeds-forum-podcast",
"rss": "https://feeds.megaphone.fm/KQINC9557381633"
}
},
"freakonomics-radio": {
"id": "freakonomics-radio",
"title": "Freakonomics Radio",
"info": "Freakonomics Radio is a one-hour award-winning podcast and public-radio project hosted by Stephen Dubner, with co-author Steve Levitt as a regular guest. It is produced in partnership with WNYC.",
"imageSrc": "https://ww2.kqed.org/news/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2018/05/freakonomicsRadio.png",
"officialWebsiteLink": "http://freakonomics.com/",
"airtime": "SUN 1am-2am, SAT 3pm-4pm",
"meta": {
"site": "radio",
"source": "WNYC"
},
"link": "/radio/program/freakonomics-radio",
"subscribe": {
"npr": "https://rpb3r.app.goo.gl/4s8b",
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/freakonomics-radio/id354668519",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/podcasts/WNYC-Podcasts/Freakonomics-Radio-p272293/",
"rss": "https://feeds.feedburner.com/freakonomicsradio"
}
},
"fresh-air": {
"id": "fresh-air",
"title": "Fresh Air",
"info": "Hosted by Terry Gross, \u003cem>Fresh Air from WHYY\u003c/em> is the Peabody Award-winning weekday magazine of contemporary arts and issues. One of public radio's most popular programs, Fresh Air features intimate conversations with today's biggest luminaries.",
"airtime": "MON-FRI 7pm-8pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Fresh-Air-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.npr.org/programs/fresh-air/",
"meta": {
"site": "radio",
"source": "npr"
},
"link": "/radio/program/fresh-air",
"subscribe": {
"npr": "https://rpb3r.app.goo.gl/4s8b",
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewPodcast?s=143441&mt=2&id=214089682&at=11l79Y&ct=nprdirectory",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/Fresh-Air-p17/",
"rss": "https://feeds.npr.org/381444908/podcast.xml"
}
},
"here-and-now": {
"id": "here-and-now",
"title": "Here & Now",
"info": "A live production of NPR and WBUR Boston, in collaboration with stations across the country, Here & Now reflects the fluid world of news as it's happening in the middle of the day, with timely, in-depth news, interviews and conversation. Hosted by Robin Young, Jeremy Hobson and Tonya Mosley.",
"airtime": "MON-THU 11am-12pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Here-And-Now-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "http://www.wbur.org/hereandnow",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "npr"
},
"link": "/radio/program/here-and-now",
"subsdcribe": {
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewPodcast?mt=2&id=426698661",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/Here--Now-p211/",
"rss": "https://feeds.npr.org/510051/podcast.xml"
}
},
"hidden-brain": {
"id": "hidden-brain",
"title": "Hidden Brain",
"info": "Shankar Vedantam uses science and storytelling to reveal the unconscious patterns that drive human behavior, shape our choices and direct our relationships.",
"imageSrc": "https://ww2.kqed.org/radio/wp-content/uploads/sites/50/2018/05/hiddenbrain.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.npr.org/series/423302056/hidden-brain",
"airtime": "SUN 7pm-8pm",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "NPR"
},
"link": "/radio/program/hidden-brain",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/hidden-brain/id1028908750?mt=2",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/podcasts/Science-Podcasts/Hidden-Brain-p787503/",
"rss": "https://feeds.npr.org/510308/podcast.xml"
}
},
"how-i-built-this": {
"id": "how-i-built-this",
"title": "How I Built This with Guy Raz",
"info": "Guy Raz dives into the stories behind some of the world's best known companies. How I Built This weaves a narrative journey about innovators, entrepreneurs and idealists—and the movements they built.",
"imageSrc": "https://ww2.kqed.org/news/wp-content/uploads/sites/10/2018/05/howIBuiltThis.png",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.npr.org/podcasts/510313/how-i-built-this",
"airtime": "SUN 7:30pm-8pm",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "npr"
},
"link": "/radio/program/how-i-built-this",
"subscribe": {
"npr": "https://rpb3r.app.goo.gl/3zxy",
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/how-i-built-this-with-guy-raz/id1150510297?mt=2",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/podcasts/Arts--Culture-Podcasts/How-I-Built-This-p910896/",
"rss": "https://feeds.npr.org/510313/podcast.xml"
}
},
"hyphenacion": {
"id": "hyphenacion",
"title": "Hyphenación",
"tagline": "Where conversation and cultura meet",
"info": "What kind of no sabo word is Hyphenación? For us, it’s about living within a hyphenation. Like being a third-gen Mexican-American from the Texas border now living that Bay Area Chicano life. Like Xorje! Each week we bring together a couple of hyphenated Latinos to talk all about personal life choices: family, careers, relationships, belonging … everything is on the table. ",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/03/Hyphenacion_FinalAssets_PodcastTile.png",
"imageAlt": "KQED Hyphenación",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/podcasts/hyphenacion",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 15
},
"link": "/podcasts/hyphenacion",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/hyphenaci%C3%B3n/id1191591838",
"spotify": "https://open.spotify.com/show/2p3Fifq96nw9BPcmFdIq0o?si=39209f7b25774f38",
"youtube": "https://www.youtube.com/c/kqedarts",
"amazon": "https://music.amazon.com/podcasts/6c3dd23c-93fb-4aab-97ba-1725fa6315f1/hyphenaci%C3%B3n",
"rss": "https://feeds.megaphone.fm/KQINC2275451163"
}
},
"jerrybrown": {
"id": "jerrybrown",
"title": "The Political Mind of Jerry Brown",
"tagline": "Lessons from a lifetime in politics",
"info": "The Political Mind of Jerry Brown brings listeners the wisdom of the former Governor, Mayor, and presidential candidate. Scott Shafer interviewed Brown for more than 40 hours, covering the former governor's life and half-century in the political game – and Brown has some lessons he'd like to share. ",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/The-Political-Mind-of-Jerry-Brown-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
"imageAlt": "KQED The Political Mind of Jerry Brown",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/podcasts/jerrybrown",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 18
},
"link": "/podcasts/jerrybrown",
"subscribe": {
"npr": "https://www.npr.org/podcasts/790253322/the-political-mind-of-jerry-brown",
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/id1492194549",
"rss": "https://ww2.kqed.org/news/series/jerrybrown/feed/podcast/",
"tuneIn": "http://tun.in/pjGcK",
"stitcher": "https://www.stitcher.com/podcast/kqed/the-political-mind-of-jerry-brown",
"spotify": "https://open.spotify.com/show/54C1dmuyFyKMFttY6X2j6r?si=K8SgRCoISNK6ZbjpXrX5-w",
"amazon": "https://music.amazon.com/podcasts/44420f75-3b0e-4301-ab3b-16da6b09e543/the-political-mind-of-jerry-brown"
}
},
"latino-usa": {
"id": "latino-usa",
"title": "Latino USA",
"airtime": "MON 1am-2am, SUN 6pm-7pm",
"info": "Latino USA, the radio journal of news and culture, is the only national, English-language radio program produced from a Latino perspective.",
"imageSrc": "https://ww2.kqed.org/radio/wp-content/uploads/sites/50/2018/04/latinoUsa.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "http://latinousa.org/",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "npr"
},
"link": "/radio/program/latino-usa",
"subscribe": {
"npr": "https://rpb3r.app.goo.gl/xtTd",
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewPodcast?s=143441&mt=2&id=79681317&at=11l79Y&ct=nprdirectory",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/Latino-USA-p621/",
"rss": "https://feeds.npr.org/510016/podcast.xml"
}
},
"marketplace": {
"id": "marketplace",
"title": "Marketplace",
"info": "Our flagship program, helmed by Kai Ryssdal, examines what the day in money delivered, through stories, conversations, newsworthy numbers and more. Updated Monday through Friday at about 3:30 p.m. PT.",
"airtime": "MON-FRI 4pm-4:30pm, MON-WED 6:30pm-7pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Marketplace-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.marketplace.org/",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "American Public Media"
},
"link": "/radio/program/marketplace",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewPodcast?s=143441&mt=2&id=201853034&at=11l79Y&ct=nprdirectory",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/APM-Marketplace-p88/",
"rss": "https://feeds.publicradio.org/public_feeds/marketplace-pm/rss/rss"
}
},
"masters-of-scale": {
"id": "masters-of-scale",
"title": "Masters of Scale",
"info": "Masters of Scale is an original podcast in which LinkedIn co-founder and Greylock Partner Reid Hoffman sets out to describe and prove theories that explain how great entrepreneurs take their companies from zero to a gazillion in ingenious fashion.",
"airtime": "Every other Wednesday June 12 through October 16 at 8pm (repeats Thursdays at 2am)",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Masters-of-Scale-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://mastersofscale.com/",
"meta": {
"site": "radio",
"source": "WaitWhat"
},
"link": "/radio/program/masters-of-scale",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "http://mastersofscale.app.link/",
"rss": "https://rss.art19.com/masters-of-scale"
}
},
"mindshift": {
"id": "mindshift",
"title": "MindShift",
"tagline": "A podcast about the future of learning and how we raise our kids",
"info": "The MindShift podcast explores the innovations in education that are shaping how kids learn. Hosts Ki Sung and Katrina Schwartz introduce listeners to educators, researchers, parents and students who are developing effective ways to improve how kids learn. We cover topics like how fed-up administrators are developing surprising tactics to deal with classroom disruptions; how listening to podcasts are helping kids develop reading skills; the consequences of overparenting; and why interdisciplinary learning can engage students on all ends of the traditional achievement spectrum. This podcast is part of the MindShift education site, a division of KQED News. KQED is an NPR/PBS member station based in San Francisco. You can also visit the MindShift website for episodes and supplemental blog posts or tweet us \u003ca href=\"https://twitter.com/MindShiftKQED\">@MindShiftKQED\u003c/a> or visit us at \u003ca href=\"/mindshift\">MindShift.KQED.org\u003c/a>",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Mindshift-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
"imageAlt": "KQED MindShift: How We Will Learn",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/mindshift/",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 12
},
"link": "/podcasts/mindshift",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/mindshift-podcast/id1078765985",
"google": "https://podcasts.google.com/feed/aHR0cHM6Ly9mZWVkcy5tZWdhcGhvbmUuZm0vS1FJTkM1NzY0NjAwNDI5",
"npr": "https://www.npr.org/podcasts/464615685/mind-shift-podcast",
"stitcher": "https://www.stitcher.com/podcast/kqed/stories-teachers-share",
"spotify": "https://open.spotify.com/show/0MxSpNYZKNprFLCl7eEtyx"
}
},
"morning-edition": {
"id": "morning-edition",
"title": "Morning Edition",
"info": "\u003cem>Morning Edition\u003c/em> takes listeners around the country and the world with multi-faceted stories and commentaries every weekday. Hosts Steve Inskeep, David Greene and Rachel Martin bring you the latest breaking news and features to prepare you for the day.",
"airtime": "MON-FRI 3am-9am",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Morning-Edition-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.npr.org/programs/morning-edition/",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "npr"
},
"link": "/radio/program/morning-edition"
},
"onourwatch": {
"id": "onourwatch",
"title": "On Our Watch",
"tagline": "Deeply-reported investigative journalism",
"info": "For decades, the process for how police police themselves has been inconsistent – if not opaque. In some states, like California, these proceedings were completely hidden. After a new police transparency law unsealed scores of internal affairs files, our reporters set out to examine these cases and the shadow world of police discipline. On Our Watch brings listeners into the rooms where officers are questioned and witnesses are interrogated to find out who this system is really protecting. Is it the officers, or the public they've sworn to serve?",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/On-Our-Watch-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
"imageAlt": "On Our Watch from NPR and KQED",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/podcasts/onourwatch",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 11
},
"link": "/podcasts/onourwatch",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/podcast/id1567098962",
"google": "https://podcasts.google.com/feed/aHR0cHM6Ly9mZWVkcy5ucHIub3JnLzUxMDM2MC9wb2RjYXN0LnhtbD9zYz1nb29nbGVwb2RjYXN0cw",
"npr": "https://rpb3r.app.goo.gl/onourwatch",
"spotify": "https://open.spotify.com/show/0OLWoyizopu6tY1XiuX70x",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/On-Our-Watch-p1436229/",
"stitcher": "https://www.stitcher.com/show/on-our-watch",
"rss": "https://feeds.npr.org/510360/podcast.xml"
}
},
"on-the-media": {
"id": "on-the-media",
"title": "On The Media",
"info": "Our weekly podcast explores how the media 'sausage' is made, casts an incisive eye on fluctuations in the marketplace of ideas, and examines threats to the freedom of information and expression in America and abroad. For one hour a week, the show tries to lift the veil from the process of \"making media,\" especially news media, because it's through that lens that we see the world and the world sees us",
"airtime": "SUN 2pm-3pm, MON 12am-1am",
"imageSrc": "https://ww2.kqed.org/radio/wp-content/uploads/sites/50/2018/04/onTheMedia.png",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.wnycstudios.org/shows/otm",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "wnyc"
},
"link": "/radio/program/on-the-media",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/on-the-media/id73330715?mt=2",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/On-the-Media-p69/",
"rss": "http://feeds.wnyc.org/onthemedia"
}
},
"pbs-newshour": {
"id": "pbs-newshour",
"title": "PBS NewsHour",
"info": "Analysis, background reports and updates from the PBS NewsHour putting today's news in context.",
"airtime": "MON-FRI 3pm-4pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/PBS-News-Hour-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.pbs.org/newshour/",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "pbs"
},
"link": "/radio/program/pbs-newshour",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/pbs-newshour-full-show/id394432287?mt=2",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/PBS-NewsHour---Full-Show-p425698/",
"rss": "https://www.pbs.org/newshour/feeds/rss/podcasts/show"
}
},
"perspectives": {
"id": "perspectives",
"title": "Perspectives",
"tagline": "KQED's series of daily listener commentaries since 1991",
"info": "KQED's series of daily listener commentaries since 1991.",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/Perspectives_Tile_Final.jpg",
"imageAlt": "KQED Perspectives",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/perspectives/",
"meta": {
"site": "radio",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 14
},
"link": "/perspectives",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/id73801135",
"npr": "https://www.npr.org/podcasts/432309616/perspectives",
"rss": "https://ww2.kqed.org/perspectives/category/perspectives/feed/",
"google": "https://podcasts.google.com/feed/aHR0cHM6Ly93dzIua3FlZC5vcmcvcGVyc3BlY3RpdmVzL2NhdGVnb3J5L3BlcnNwZWN0aXZlcy9mZWVkLw"
}
},
"planet-money": {
"id": "planet-money",
"title": "Planet Money",
"info": "The economy explained. Imagine you could call up a friend and say, Meet me at the bar and tell me what's going on with the economy. Now imagine that's actually a fun evening.",
"airtime": "SUN 3pm-4pm",
"imageSrc": "https://ww2.kqed.org/radio/wp-content/uploads/sites/50/2018/04/planetmoney.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.npr.org/sections/money/",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "npr"
},
"link": "/radio/program/planet-money",
"subscribe": {
"npr": "https://rpb3r.app.goo.gl/M4f5",
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/planet-money/id290783428?mt=2",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/podcasts/Business--Economics-Podcasts/Planet-Money-p164680/",
"rss": "https://feeds.npr.org/510289/podcast.xml"
}
},
"politicalbreakdown": {
"id": "politicalbreakdown",
"title": "Political Breakdown",
"tagline": "Politics from a personal perspective",
"info": "Political Breakdown is a new series that explores the political intersection of California and the nation. Each week hosts Scott Shafer and Marisa Lagos are joined with a new special guest to unpack politics -- with personality — and offer an insider’s glimpse at how politics happens.",
"airtime": "THU 6:30pm-7pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Political-Breakdown-2024-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
"imageAlt": "KQED Political Breakdown",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/podcasts/politicalbreakdown",
"meta": {
"site": "radio",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 5
},
"link": "/podcasts/politicalbreakdown",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/political-breakdown/id1327641087",
"amazon": "https://music.amazon.com/podcasts/e0c2d153-ad36-4c8d-901d-f1da6a724824/political-breakdown",
"npr": "https://www.npr.org/podcasts/572155894/political-breakdown",
"stitcher": "https://www.stitcher.com/podcast/kqed/political-breakdown",
"spotify": "https://open.spotify.com/show/07RVyIjIdk2WDuVehvBMoN",
"rss": "https://ww2.kqed.org/news/tag/political-breakdown/feed/podcast"
}
},
"possible": {
"id": "possible",
"title": "Possible",
"info": "Possible is hosted by entrepreneur Reid Hoffman and writer Aria Finger. Together in Possible, Hoffman and Finger lead enlightening discussions about building a brighter collective future. The show features interviews with visionary guests like Trevor Noah, Sam Altman and Janette Sadik-Khan. Possible paints an optimistic portrait of the world we can create through science, policy, business, art and our shared humanity. It asks: What if everything goes right for once? How can we get there? Each episode also includes a short fiction story generated by advanced AI GPT-4, serving as a thought-provoking springboard to speculate how humanity could leverage technology for good.",
"airtime": "SUN 2pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Possible-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.possible.fm/",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "Possible"
},
"link": "/radio/program/possible",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/possible/id1677184070",
"spotify": "https://open.spotify.com/show/730YpdUSNlMyPQwNnyjp4k"
}
},
"pri-the-world": {
"id": "pri-the-world",
"title": "PRI's The World: Latest Edition",
"info": "Each weekday, host Marco Werman and his team of producers bring you the world's most interesting stories in an hour of radio that reminds us just how small our planet really is.",
"airtime": "MON-FRI 2pm-3pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/The-World-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.pri.org/programs/the-world",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "PRI"
},
"link": "/radio/program/pri-the-world",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/pris-the-world-latest-edition/id278196007?mt=2",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/podcasts/News--Politics-Podcasts/PRIs-The-World-p24/",
"rss": "http://feeds.feedburner.com/pri/theworld"
}
},
"radiolab": {
"id": "radiolab",
"title": "Radiolab",
"info": "A two-time Peabody Award-winner, Radiolab is an investigation told through sounds and stories, and centered around one big idea. In the Radiolab world, information sounds like music and science and culture collide. Hosted by Jad Abumrad and Robert Krulwich, the show is designed for listeners who demand skepticism, but appreciate wonder. WNYC Studios is the producer of other leading podcasts including Freakonomics Radio, Death, Sex & Money, On the Media and many more.",
"airtime": "SUN 12am-1am, SAT 2pm-3pm",
"imageSrc": "https://ww2.kqed.org/radio/wp-content/uploads/sites/50/2018/04/radiolab1400.png",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.wnycstudios.org/shows/radiolab/",
"meta": {
"site": "science",
"source": "WNYC"
},
"link": "/radio/program/radiolab",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/radiolab/id152249110?mt=2",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/RadioLab-p68032/",
"rss": "https://feeds.wnyc.org/radiolab"
}
},
"reveal": {
"id": "reveal",
"title": "Reveal",
"info": "Created by The Center for Investigative Reporting and PRX, Reveal is public radios first one-hour weekly radio show and podcast dedicated to investigative reporting. Credible, fact based and without a partisan agenda, Reveal combines the power and artistry of driveway moment storytelling with data-rich reporting on critically important issues. The result is stories that inform and inspire, arming our listeners with information to right injustices, hold the powerful accountable and improve lives.Reveal is hosted by Al Letson and showcases the award-winning work of CIR and newsrooms large and small across the nation. In a radio and podcast market crowded with choices, Reveal focuses on important and often surprising stories that illuminate the world for our listeners.",
"airtime": "SAT 4pm-5pm",
"imageSrc": "https://ww2.kqed.org/radio/wp-content/uploads/sites/50/2018/04/reveal300px.png",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.revealnews.org/episodes/",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "npr"
},
"link": "/radio/program/reveal",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/reveal/id886009669",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/Reveal-p679597/",
"rss": "http://feeds.revealradio.org/revealpodcast"
}
},
"rightnowish": {
"id": "rightnowish",
"title": "Rightnowish",
"tagline": "Art is where you find it",
"info": "Rightnowish digs into life in the Bay Area right now… ish. Journalist Pendarvis Harshaw takes us to galleries painted on the sides of liquor stores in West Oakland. We'll dance in warehouses in the Bayview, make smoothies with kids in South Berkeley, and listen to classical music in a 1984 Cutlass Supreme in Richmond. Every week, Pen talks to movers and shakers about how the Bay Area shapes what they create, and how they shape the place we call home.",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Rightnowish-Podcast-Tile-500x500-1.jpg",
"imageAlt": "KQED Rightnowish with Pendarvis Harshaw",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/podcasts/rightnowish",
"meta": {
"site": "arts",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 16
},
"link": "/podcasts/rightnowish",
"subscribe": {
"npr": "https://www.npr.org/podcasts/721590300/rightnowish",
"rss": "https://ww2.kqed.org/arts/programs/rightnowish/feed/podcast",
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/rightnowish/id1482187648",
"stitcher": "https://www.stitcher.com/podcast/kqed/rightnowish",
"google": "https://podcasts.google.com/feed/aHR0cHM6Ly9mZWVkcy5tZWdhcGhvbmUuZm0vS1FJTkMxMjU5MTY3NDc4",
"spotify": "https://open.spotify.com/show/7kEJuafTzTVan7B78ttz1I"
}
},
"science-friday": {
"id": "science-friday",
"title": "Science Friday",
"info": "Science Friday is a weekly science talk show, broadcast live over public radio stations nationwide. Each week, the show focuses on science topics that are in the news and tries to bring an educated, balanced discussion to bear on the scientific issues at hand. Panels of expert guests join host Ira Flatow, a veteran science journalist, to discuss science and to take questions from listeners during the call-in portion of the program.",
"airtime": "FRI 11am-1pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Science-Friday-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.wnycstudios.org/shows/science-friday",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "npr"
},
"link": "/radio/program/science-friday",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewPodcast?s=143441&mt=2&id=73329284&at=11l79Y&ct=nprdirectory",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/Science-Friday-p394/",
"rss": "http://feeds.wnyc.org/science-friday"
}
},
"snap-judgment": {
"id": "snap-judgment",
"title": "Snap Judgment",
"tagline": "Real stories with killer beats",
"info": "The Snap Judgment radio show and podcast mixes real stories with killer beats to produce cinematic, dramatic radio. Snap's musical brand of storytelling dares listeners to see the world through the eyes of another. This is storytelling... with a BEAT!! Snap first aired on public radio stations nationwide in July 2010. Today, Snap Judgment airs on over 450 public radio stations and is brought to the airwaves by KQED & PRX.",
"airtime": "SAT 1pm-2pm, 9pm-10pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/Snap-Judgment-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
"imageAlt": "KQED Snap Judgment",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://snapjudgment.org",
"meta": {
"site": "arts",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 4
},
"link": "https://snapjudgment.org",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/snap-judgment/id283657561",
"npr": "https://www.npr.org/podcasts/449018144/snap-judgment",
"stitcher": "https://www.pandora.com/podcast/snap-judgment/PC:241?source=stitcher-sunset",
"spotify": "https://open.spotify.com/show/3Cct7ZWmxHNAtLgBTqjC5v",
"rss": "https://snap.feed.snapjudgment.org/"
}
},
"soldout": {
"id": "soldout",
"title": "SOLD OUT: Rethinking Housing in America",
"tagline": "A new future for housing",
"info": "Sold Out: Rethinking Housing in America",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Sold-Out-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
"imageAlt": "KQED Sold Out: Rethinking Housing in America",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/podcasts/soldout",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 13
},
"link": "/podcasts/soldout",
"subscribe": {
"npr": "https://www.npr.org/podcasts/911586047/s-o-l-d-o-u-t-a-new-future-for-housing",
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/introducing-sold-out-rethinking-housing-in-america/id1531354937",
"rss": "https://feeds.megaphone.fm/soldout",
"spotify": "https://open.spotify.com/show/38dTBSk2ISFoPiyYNoKn1X",
"stitcher": "https://www.stitcher.com/podcast/kqed/sold-out-rethinking-housing-in-america",
"tunein": "https://tunein.com/radio/SOLD-OUT-Rethinking-Housing-in-America-p1365871/"
}
},
"spooked": {
"id": "spooked",
"title": "Spooked",
"tagline": "True-life supernatural stories",
"info": "",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/10/Spooked-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
"imageAlt": "KQED Spooked",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://spookedpodcast.org/",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 7
},
"link": "https://spookedpodcast.org/",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/spooked/id1279361017",
"npr": "https://www.npr.org/podcasts/549547848/snap-judgment-presents-spooked",
"spotify": "https://open.spotify.com/show/76571Rfl3m7PLJQZKQIGCT",
"rss": "https://feeds.simplecast.com/TBotaapn"
}
},
"tech-nation": {
"id": "tech-nation",
"title": "Tech Nation Radio Podcast",
"info": "Tech Nation is a weekly public radio program, hosted by Dr. Moira Gunn. Founded in 1993, it has grown from a simple interview show to a multi-faceted production, featuring conversations with noted technology and science leaders, and a weekly science and technology-related commentary.",
"airtime": "FRI 10pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Tech-Nation-Radio-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "http://technation.podomatic.com/",
"meta": {
"site": "science",
"source": "Tech Nation Media"
},
"link": "/radio/program/tech-nation",
"subscribe": {
"rss": "https://technation.podomatic.com/rss2.xml"
}
},
"ted-radio-hour": {
"id": "ted-radio-hour",
"title": "TED Radio Hour",
"info": "The TED Radio Hour is a journey through fascinating ideas, astonishing inventions, fresh approaches to old problems, and new ways to think and create.",
"airtime": "SUN 3pm-4pm, SAT 10pm-11pm",
"imageSrc": "https://ww2.kqed.org/radio/wp-content/uploads/sites/50/2018/04/tedRadioHour.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.npr.org/programs/ted-radio-hour/?showDate=2018-06-22",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "npr"
},
"link": "/radio/program/ted-radio-hour",
"subscribe": {
"npr": "https://rpb3r.app.goo.gl/8vsS",
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewPodcast?s=143441&mt=2&id=523121474&at=11l79Y&ct=nprdirectory",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/TED-Radio-Hour-p418021/",
"rss": "https://feeds.npr.org/510298/podcast.xml"
}
},
"thebay": {
"id": "thebay",
"title": "The Bay",
"tagline": "Local news to keep you rooted",
"info": "Host Devin Katayama walks you through the biggest story of the day with reporters and newsmakers.",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/The-Bay-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
"imageAlt": "KQED The Bay",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/podcasts/thebay",
"meta": {
"site": "radio",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 2
},
"link": "/podcasts/thebay",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/the-bay/id1350043452",
"amazon": "https://music.amazon.com/podcasts/d800ea4c-7a2c-42f2-b861-edaf78a5db0b/the-bay",
"npr": "https://www.npr.org/podcasts/586725995/the-bay",
"stitcher": "https://www.stitcher.com/podcast/kqed/the-bay",
"spotify": "https://open.spotify.com/show/4BIKBKIujizLHlIlBNaAqQ",
"rss": "https://feeds.megaphone.fm/KQINC8259786327"
}
},
"thelatest": {
"id": "thelatest",
"title": "The Latest",
"tagline": "Trusted local news in real time",
"info": "",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/05/The-Latest-2025-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
"imageAlt": "KQED The Latest",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/thelatest",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 6
},
"link": "/thelatest",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/the-latest-from-kqed/id1197721799",
"npr": "https://www.npr.org/podcasts/1257949365/the-latest-from-k-q-e-d",
"spotify": "https://open.spotify.com/show/5KIIXMgM9GTi5AepwOYvIZ?si=bd3053fec7244dba",
"rss": "https://feeds.megaphone.fm/KQINC9137121918"
}
},
"theleap": {
"id": "theleap",
"title": "The Leap",
"tagline": "What if you closed your eyes, and jumped?",
"info": "Stories about people making dramatic, risky changes, told by award-winning public radio reporter Judy Campbell.",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/The-Leap-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
"imageAlt": "KQED The Leap",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/podcasts/theleap",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "kqed",
"order": 17
},
"link": "/podcasts/theleap",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/the-leap/id1046668171",
"npr": "https://www.npr.org/podcasts/447248267/the-leap",
"stitcher": "https://www.stitcher.com/podcast/kqed/the-leap",
"spotify": "https://open.spotify.com/show/3sSlVHHzU0ytLwuGs1SD1U",
"rss": "https://ww2.kqed.org/news/programs/the-leap/feed/podcast"
}
},
"the-moth-radio-hour": {
"id": "the-moth-radio-hour",
"title": "The Moth Radio Hour",
"info": "Since its launch in 1997, The Moth has presented thousands of true stories, told live and without notes, to standing-room-only crowds worldwide. Moth storytellers stand alone, under a spotlight, with only a microphone and a roomful of strangers. The storyteller and the audience embark on a high-wire act of shared experience which is both terrifying and exhilarating. Since 2008, The Moth podcast has featured many of our favorite stories told live on Moth stages around the country. For information on all of our programs and live events, visit themoth.org.",
"airtime": "SAT 8pm-9pm and SUN 11am-12pm",
"imageSrc": "https://ww2.kqed.org/radio/wp-content/uploads/sites/50/2018/04/theMoth.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://themoth.org/",
"meta": {
"site": "arts",
"source": "prx"
},
"link": "/radio/program/the-moth-radio-hour",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/the-moth-podcast/id275699983?mt=2",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/The-Moth-p273888/",
"rss": "http://feeds.themoth.org/themothpodcast"
}
},
"the-new-yorker-radio-hour": {
"id": "the-new-yorker-radio-hour",
"title": "The New Yorker Radio Hour",
"info": "The New Yorker Radio Hour is a weekly program presented by the magazine's editor, David Remnick, and produced by WNYC Studios and The New Yorker. Each episode features a diverse mix of interviews, profiles, storytelling, and an occasional burst of humor inspired by the magazine, and shaped by its writers, artists, and editors. This isn't a radio version of a magazine, but something all its own, reflecting the rich possibilities of audio storytelling and conversation. Theme music for the show was composed and performed by Merrill Garbus of tUnE-YArDs.",
"airtime": "SAT 10am-11am",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/The-New-Yorker-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.wnycstudios.org/shows/tnyradiohour",
"meta": {
"site": "arts",
"source": "WNYC"
},
"link": "/radio/program/the-new-yorker-radio-hour",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/id1050430296",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/podcasts/WNYC-Podcasts/New-Yorker-Radio-Hour-p803804/",
"rss": "https://feeds.feedburner.com/newyorkerradiohour"
}
},
"the-sam-sanders-show": {
"id": "the-sam-sanders-show",
"title": "The Sam Sanders Show",
"info": "One of public radio's most dynamic voices, Sam Sanders helped launch The NPR Politics Podcast and hosted NPR's hit show It's Been A Minute. Now, the award-winning host returns with something brand new, The Sam Sanders Show. Every week, Sam Sanders and friends dig into the culture that shapes our lives: what's driving the biggest trends, how artists really think, and even the memes you can't stop scrolling past. Sam is beloved for his way of unpacking the world and bringing you up close to fresh currents and engaging conversations. The Sam Sanders Show is smart, funny and always a good time.",
"airtime": "FRI 12-1pm AND SAT 11am-12pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/11/The-Sam-Sanders-Show-Podcast-Tile-400x400-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.kcrw.com/shows/the-sam-sanders-show/latest",
"meta": {
"site": "arts",
"source": "KCRW"
},
"link": "https://www.kcrw.com/shows/the-sam-sanders-show/latest",
"subscribe": {
"rss": "https://feed.cdnstream1.com/zjb/feed/download/ac/28/59/ac28594c-e1d0-4231-8728-61865cdc80e8.xml"
}
},
"the-splendid-table": {
"id": "the-splendid-table",
"title": "The Splendid Table",
"info": "\u003cem>The Splendid Table\u003c/em> hosts our nation's conversations about cooking, sustainability and food culture.",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/The-Splendid-Table-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.splendidtable.org/",
"airtime": "SUN 10-11 pm",
"meta": {
"site": "radio",
"source": "npr"
},
"link": "/radio/program/the-splendid-table"
},
"this-american-life": {
"id": "this-american-life",
"title": "This American Life",
"info": "This American Life is a weekly public radio show, heard by 2.2 million people on more than 500 stations. Another 2.5 million people download the weekly podcast. It is hosted by Ira Glass, produced in collaboration with Chicago Public Media, delivered to stations by PRX The Public Radio Exchange, and has won all of the major broadcasting awards.",
"airtime": "SAT 12pm-1pm, 7pm-8pm",
"imageSrc": "https://ww2.kqed.org/radio/wp-content/uploads/sites/50/2018/04/thisAmericanLife.png",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.thisamericanlife.org/",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "wbez"
},
"link": "/radio/program/this-american-life",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewPodcast?s=143441&mt=2&id=201671138&at=11l79Y&ct=nprdirectory",
"rss": "https://www.thisamericanlife.org/podcast/rss.xml"
}
},
"tinydeskradio": {
"id": "tinydeskradio",
"title": "Tiny Desk Radio",
"info": "We're bringing the best of Tiny Desk to the airwaves, only on public radio.",
"airtime": "SUN 8pm and SAT 9pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/04/300x300-For-Member-Station-Logo-Tiny-Desk-Radio-@2x.png",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.npr.org/series/g-s1-52030/tiny-desk-radio",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "npr"
},
"link": "/radio/program/tinydeskradio",
"subscribe": {
"rss": "https://feeds.npr.org/g-s1-52030/rss.xml"
}
},
"wait-wait-dont-tell-me": {
"id": "wait-wait-dont-tell-me",
"title": "Wait Wait... Don't Tell Me!",
"info": "Peter Sagal and Bill Kurtis host the weekly NPR News quiz show alongside some of the best and brightest news and entertainment personalities.",
"airtime": "SUN 10am-11am, SAT 11am-12pm, SAT 6pm-7pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Wait-Wait-Podcast-Tile-300x300-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.npr.org/programs/wait-wait-dont-tell-me/",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "npr"
},
"link": "/radio/program/wait-wait-dont-tell-me",
"subscribe": {
"npr": "https://rpb3r.app.goo.gl/Xogv",
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewPodcast?s=143441&mt=2&id=121493804&at=11l79Y&ct=nprdirectory",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/Wait-Wait-Dont-Tell-Me-p46/",
"rss": "https://feeds.npr.org/344098539/podcast.xml"
}
},
"weekend-edition-saturday": {
"id": "weekend-edition-saturday",
"title": "Weekend Edition Saturday",
"info": "Weekend Edition Saturday wraps up the week's news and offers a mix of analysis and features on a wide range of topics, including arts, sports, entertainment, and human interest stories. The two-hour program is hosted by NPR's Peabody Award-winning Scott Simon.",
"airtime": "SAT 5am-10am",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Weekend-Edition-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.npr.org/programs/weekend-edition-saturday/",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "npr"
},
"link": "/radio/program/weekend-edition-saturday"
},
"weekend-edition-sunday": {
"id": "weekend-edition-sunday",
"title": "Weekend Edition Sunday",
"info": "Weekend Edition Sunday features interviews with newsmakers, artists, scientists, politicians, musicians, writers, theologians and historians. The program has covered news events from Nelson Mandela's 1990 release from a South African prison to the capture of Saddam Hussein.",
"airtime": "SUN 5am-10am",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Weekend-Edition-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.npr.org/programs/weekend-edition-sunday/",
"meta": {
"site": "news",
"source": "npr"
},
"link": "/radio/program/weekend-edition-sunday"
}
},
"racesReducer": {},
"racesGenElectionReducer": {},
"racesGenElection2026Reducer": {},
"radioSchedulesReducer": {},
"listsReducer": {
"posts/arts?category=theater": {
"isFetching": false,
"latestQuery": {
"from": 924,
"size": 12
},
"vitalsOnly": false,
"totalRequested": 12,
"isLoading": false,
"isLoadingMore": true,
"total": {
"value": 979,
"relation": "eq"
},
"items": [
"arts_22966",
"arts_22887",
"arts_22867",
"arts_22843",
"arts_22815",
"arts_22769",
"arts_22744",
"arts_22564",
"arts_22560",
"arts_22550",
"arts_22500",
"arts_22445"
],
"complete": true
}
},
"recallGuideReducer": {
"intros": {},
"policy": {},
"candidates": {}
},
"savedArticleReducer": {
"articles": [],
"status": {}
},
"newslettersReducer": {
"isFetching": false,
"fetchFailed": false,
"hasFetched": false,
"newsletters": {},
"isSubscribing": false,
"isUnsubscribing": false,
"subscribedNewsletters": {}
},
"termsReducer": {
"about": {
"name": "About",
"type": "terms",
"id": "about",
"slug": "about",
"link": "/about",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"arts": {
"name": "Arts & Culture",
"grouping": [
"arts",
"pop",
"trulyca"
],
"description": "KQED Arts provides daily in-depth coverage of the Bay Area's music, art, film, performing arts, literature and arts news, as well as cultural commentary and criticism.",
"type": "terms",
"id": "arts",
"slug": "arts",
"link": "/arts",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"artschool": {
"name": "Art School",
"parent": "arts",
"type": "terms",
"id": "artschool",
"slug": "artschool",
"link": "/artschool",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"bayareabites": {
"name": "KQED food",
"grouping": [
"food",
"bayareabites",
"checkplease"
],
"parent": "food",
"type": "terms",
"id": "bayareabites",
"slug": "bayareabites",
"link": "/food",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"bayareahiphop": {
"name": "Bay Area Hiphop",
"type": "terms",
"id": "bayareahiphop",
"slug": "bayareahiphop",
"link": "/bayareahiphop",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"campaign21": {
"name": "Campaign 21",
"type": "terms",
"id": "campaign21",
"slug": "campaign21",
"link": "/campaign21",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"careers": {
"name": "Careers",
"type": "terms",
"id": "careers",
"slug": "careers",
"link": "/careers",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"checkplease": {
"name": "KQED food",
"grouping": [
"food",
"bayareabites",
"checkplease"
],
"parent": "food",
"type": "terms",
"id": "checkplease",
"slug": "checkplease",
"link": "/food",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"education": {
"name": "Education",
"grouping": [
"education"
],
"type": "terms",
"id": "education",
"slug": "education",
"link": "/education",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"elections": {
"name": "Elections",
"type": "terms",
"id": "elections",
"slug": "elections",
"link": "/elections",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"events": {
"name": "Events",
"type": "terms",
"id": "events",
"slug": "events",
"link": "/events",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"event": {
"name": "Event",
"alias": "events",
"type": "terms",
"id": "event",
"slug": "event",
"link": "/event",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"filmschoolshorts": {
"name": "Film School Shorts",
"type": "terms",
"id": "filmschoolshorts",
"slug": "filmschoolshorts",
"link": "/filmschoolshorts",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"food": {
"name": "KQED food",
"grouping": [
"food",
"bayareabites",
"checkplease"
],
"type": "terms",
"id": "food",
"slug": "food",
"link": "/food",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"forum": {
"name": "Forum",
"relatedContentQuery": "posts/forum?",
"parent": "news",
"type": "terms",
"id": "forum",
"slug": "forum",
"link": "/forum",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"futureofyou": {
"name": "Future of You",
"grouping": [
"science",
"futureofyou"
],
"parent": "science",
"type": "terms",
"id": "futureofyou",
"slug": "futureofyou",
"link": "/futureofyou",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"jpepinheart": {
"name": "KQED food",
"relatedContentQuery": "posts/food,bayareabites,checkplease",
"parent": "food",
"type": "terms",
"id": "jpepinheart",
"slug": "jpepinheart",
"link": "/food",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"liveblog": {
"name": "Live Blog",
"type": "terms",
"id": "liveblog",
"slug": "liveblog",
"link": "/liveblog",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"livetv": {
"name": "Live TV",
"parent": "tv",
"type": "terms",
"id": "livetv",
"slug": "livetv",
"link": "/livetv",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"lowdown": {
"name": "The Lowdown",
"relatedContentQuery": "posts/lowdown?",
"parent": "news",
"type": "terms",
"id": "lowdown",
"slug": "lowdown",
"link": "/lowdown",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"mindshift": {
"name": "Mindshift",
"parent": "news",
"description": "MindShift explores the future of education by highlighting the innovative – and sometimes counterintuitive – ways educators and parents are helping all children succeed.",
"type": "terms",
"id": "mindshift",
"slug": "mindshift",
"link": "/mindshift",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"news": {
"name": "News",
"grouping": [
"news",
"forum"
],
"type": "terms",
"id": "news",
"slug": "news",
"link": "/news",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"newsletters": {
"name": "newsletters",
"type": "terms",
"id": "newsletters",
"slug": "newsletters",
"link": "/newsletters",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"perspectives": {
"name": "Perspectives",
"parent": "radio",
"type": "terms",
"id": "perspectives",
"slug": "perspectives",
"link": "/perspectives",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"podcasts": {
"name": "Podcasts",
"type": "terms",
"id": "podcasts",
"slug": "podcasts",
"link": "/podcasts",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"pop": {
"name": "Pop",
"parent": "arts",
"type": "terms",
"id": "pop",
"slug": "pop",
"link": "/pop",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"pressroom": {
"name": "Pressroom",
"type": "terms",
"id": "pressroom",
"slug": "pressroom",
"link": "/pressroom",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"quest": {
"name": "Quest",
"parent": "science",
"type": "terms",
"id": "quest",
"slug": "quest",
"link": "/quest",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"radio": {
"name": "Radio",
"grouping": [
"forum",
"perspectives"
],
"description": "Listen to KQED Public Radio – home of Forum and The California Report – on 88.5 FM in San Francisco, 89.3 FM in Sacramento, 88.3 FM in Santa Rosa and 88.1 FM in Martinez.",
"type": "terms",
"id": "radio",
"slug": "radio",
"link": "/radio",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"root": {
"name": "KQED",
"image": "https://ww2.kqed.org/app/uploads/2020/02/KQED-OG-Image@1x.png",
"imageWidth": 1200,
"imageHeight": 630,
"headData": {
"title": "KQED | News, Radio, Podcasts, TV | Public Media for Northern California",
"description": "KQED provides public radio, television, and independent reporting on issues that matter to the Bay Area. We’re the NPR and PBS member station for Northern California."
},
"type": "terms",
"id": "root",
"slug": "root",
"link": "/root",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"science": {
"name": "Science",
"grouping": [
"science",
"futureofyou"
],
"description": "KQED Science brings you award-winning science and environment coverage from the Bay Area and beyond.",
"type": "terms",
"id": "science",
"slug": "science",
"link": "/science",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"stateofhealth": {
"name": "State of Health",
"parent": "science",
"type": "terms",
"id": "stateofhealth",
"slug": "stateofhealth",
"link": "/stateofhealth",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"support": {
"name": "Support",
"type": "terms",
"id": "support",
"slug": "support",
"link": "/support",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"thedolist": {
"name": "The Do List",
"parent": "arts",
"type": "terms",
"id": "thedolist",
"slug": "thedolist",
"link": "/thedolist",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"trulyca": {
"name": "Truly CA",
"grouping": [
"arts",
"pop",
"trulyca"
],
"parent": "arts",
"type": "terms",
"id": "trulyca",
"slug": "trulyca",
"link": "/trulyca",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"tv": {
"name": "TV",
"type": "terms",
"id": "tv",
"slug": "tv",
"link": "/tv",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"voterguide": {
"name": "Voter Guide",
"parent": "elections",
"alias": "elections",
"type": "terms",
"id": "voterguide",
"slug": "voterguide",
"link": "/voterguide",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"guiaelectoral": {
"name": "Guia Electoral",
"parent": "elections",
"alias": "elections",
"type": "terms",
"id": "guiaelectoral",
"slug": "guiaelectoral",
"link": "/guiaelectoral",
"taxonomy": "site"
},
"arts_category_theater": {
"isLoading": true
},
"arts_967": {
"type": "terms",
"id": "arts_967",
"meta": {
"index": "terms_1716263798",
"site": "arts",
"id": "967",
"found": true
},
"relationships": {},
"featImg": null,
"name": "Theater",
"description": null,
"taxonomy": "category",
"headData": {
"twImgId": null,
"twTitle": null,
"ogTitle": null,
"ogImgId": null,
"twDescription": null,
"description": null,
"title": "Theater Archives | KQED Arts",
"ogDescription": null
},
"ttid": 985,
"slug": "theater",
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/arts/category/theater"
},
"arts_69": {
"type": "terms",
"id": "arts_69",
"meta": {
"index": "terms_1716263798",
"site": "arts",
"id": "69",
"found": true
},
"relationships": {},
"featImg": null,
"name": "Music",
"description": null,
"taxonomy": "category",
"headData": {
"twImgId": null,
"twTitle": null,
"ogTitle": null,
"ogImgId": null,
"twDescription": null,
"description": null,
"title": "Music Archives | KQED Arts",
"ogDescription": null
},
"ttid": 70,
"slug": "music",
"isLoading": false,
"link": "/arts/category/music"
}
},
"userPermissionsReducer": {
"wpLoggedIn": false
},
"eventsReducer": {},
"fssReducer": {},
"tvDailyScheduleReducer": {},
"tvWeeklyScheduleReducer": {},
"tvPrimetimeScheduleReducer": {},
"tvMonthlyScheduleReducer": {},
"userAccountReducer": {
"user": {
"email": null,
"emailStatus": "EMAIL_UNVALIDATED",
"loggedStatus": "LOGGED_OUT",
"loggingChecked": false,
"articles": [],
"firstName": null,
"lastName": null,
"phoneNumber": null,
"fetchingMembership": false,
"membershipError": false,
"memberships": [
{
"id": null,
"startDate": null,
"firstName": null,
"lastName": null,
"familyNumber": null,
"memberNumber": null,
"memberSince": null,
"expirationDate": null,
"pfsEligible": false,
"isSustaining": false,
"membershipLevel": "Prospect",
"membershipStatus": "Non Member",
"lastGiftDate": null,
"renewalDate": null,
"lastDonationAmount": null
}
]
},
"authModal": {
"isOpen": false,
"view": "LANDING_VIEW"
},
"error": null
},
"youthMediaReducer": {},
"checkPleaseReducer": {
"filterData": {
"region": {
"key": "Restaurant Region",
"filters": [
"Any Region"
]
},
"cuisine": {
"key": "Restaurant Cuisine",
"filters": [
"Any Cuisine"
]
}
},
"restaurantDataById": {},
"restaurantIdsSorted": [],
"error": null
},
"userAgentReducer": {
"userAgent": "Mozilla/5.0 AppleWebKit/537.36 (KHTML, like Gecko; compatible; ClaudeBot/1.0; +claudebot@anthropic.com)",
"isBot": true
}
}
