I find myself on the verge of tears nearly all the time, these days, often for exactly opposite reasons. I’m moved to tears several times a day by the extraordinary talent and resilience of artists. The ability and willingness of those currently unable to practice their craft because their shows have been cancelled, or their exhibitions have been cancelled, or their cabaret gigs have been cancelled or their concerts have been cancelled, to go on giving, is extraordinarily moving. They may indeed be stuck at home like the rest of us but they are finding ways to entertain us in any way they can, to ply their trade even when they don’t know where their next meal is coming from. Setting aside rock stars, who can make footballer money, almost all actors, musicians, writers, dancers, and painters live from gig to gig and from meal to meal, even the successful ones. Right now, many household names are without work or prospects. It hasn’t stopped them. I can’t tell you how much I admire these people, in front and behind the scenes, the individual artists and the companies who make the shows, who have simply got on with doing what they do, even when there is nobody to pay them, nobody to help and no certain future to come back to. And the most moving of all the stories this week, and the one that made me cry with pride and amazement, is the story of the wardrobe ladies. These women (and they are nearly all women) work only when there is a show in their theatre to dress, earn very little, and have all lost their jobs with the closures. But they can sew. And when they heard that there were not enough surgical gowns to protect the front line medical staff during the coronavirus crisis, wardrobe workers organised themselves to make them. They have identified the correct fabric and sourced it, they have found and cut the patterns to withstand the extreme conditions in which they will be worn, have discovered the central locations from which they will be distributed regionally, and, in homes and workshops throughout the United States, each of them is making as many surgical gowns as she can to aid the crisis. Now, if that isn’t worth shedding a few tears of pride and admiration over, I don’t know what is. Just turn on your computer. Go to the website for any singer or dancer or actor you admire. I promise you’ll find them doing something wonderful and streaming it, free. I caught an amazing jazz concert from Jon Weber, all alone at the piano in the National Arts Club, and some Broadway dancers have recreated 10 iconic dance moments from the musicals. Seth Rudetsky has an umbrella gig for Broadway singers (and what singers) every day, called Stars in the House. Performers you couldn’t get a ticket to see in the theatre or concert hall are singing for free. Easy to look it up online. I’ve been listening to the singers. Broadway star Linda Egan has a funny parody of Cabaret from her kitchen, Lin Manuel Miranda, in what looks like his study, sings It Would be Enough from Hamilton, NY cabaret artist Mark Nadler sings a different song every day from his living room. You can join him, live. Individual artists are keeping their websites updated with their personal offerings, so all you have to do is enter their names and their activities will pop up. Natalie Douglas singing The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face from her Aretha tribute, Jeff Harnar and KT Sullivan singing Tomorrow from KT’s living room, Patti Lupone with Rose’s Turn from Gypsy (and a mad video tour of her basement). Just click on anything musical on YouTube and you’ll be rewarded with not only what you’ve requested, but often a series of additional video treats you never even suspected were there. Several sites such as Stars in the House are asking for donations for the Actors Fund and other charities to help destitute artists, in return for performances. Some performers have other strings to their bows. Singer Karen Oberlin, it turns out, has been teaching yoga for more than 20 years and with the cancellation of all the gigs for the foreseeable future, she’s made a splendid beginners’ yoga workout for people who can’t get out to exercise. The cast of Six and Alvin Ailey’s studio company have exercise programmes for different levels of dance expertise. There’s a wide variety of dance and exercise including stretch and conditioning from Ballet Hispanico, even belly dancing. You can learn juggling, magic, plate spinning, and other circus arts from real circus stars at Kinetic Circus. Looking for something else yesterday, I came across a virtual walking tour of New York’s Museum Mile, conducted by Michael Kimmelman, the New York Times’ architecture critic and Andrew Dolkart, an architectural historian. Here are buildings I’ve walked past a million times and never really seen. I see them now and can't wait to return to New York to see them for myself. I couldn’t tear myself away. The photographs are brilliant, illuminating the details of the decoration and stonework, and I was riveted by the descriptions of the men (all men, of course) who designed and built these stone and brick poems and the customers for whom they built them. I’m not very knowledgeable about film, but the Library of Congress in Washington DC is making available an astonishing archive of very rare films, some shot as early as 1874. Heaven for the film buff. I’m on safer ground with opera and the Met has already started free live-streaming of works from Netrebko’s Aida to Kauffman’s Parsifal. Delicious and so welcome. Check the Metropolitan Opera’s website for a full list. The National Gallery in London has had to cancel its Artemisia Gentileschi exhibition which was the one I was most looking forward to this season, even more than their Titian, but it has a good introduction to her work – for those less obsessed with her, Artemisia was the greatest female painter of the Renaissance – by an art historian who really knows her stuff. I was less enchanted with the Titian virtual tour because, although the curators who conduct it are unquestionably knowledgeable and steeped in Titian’s genius, they’re a bit dull and the video is badly shot. Playbill.com, BroadwayWorld.com, and the website for Official London Theatre are all keeping track of what’s available for free streaming all over the theatrical world. The theatre companies are no slouches. The National Theatre this week started streaming. I saw the first performance of One Man Two Guvnors at the National in 2011. This is one of the two best farces written in our lifetime (the other is Michael Frayne’s Noises Off). Richard Bean’s One Man was the show where we first noticed James Corden and, shamefully, his Tony-winning performance was so pulverising that I’m not sure I registered anything else about the production. I only meant to dip into it this Tuesday to see how it had transferred to video and was immediately hooked. It’s a wonderful comedy and every element, every other member of the cast, not just Corden, the direction (by Nick Hytner), the design and, indeed, the participation of the audience, suddenly made sense and I sat here, laughing out loud and marvelling at the perfection of live theatre, even at one remove. On a different note, I was thrilled with the opportunity finally to catch up with Cyprus Avenue from the Royal Court which I had missed in the theatre. This shocking and alarming play has a stunning central performance from Stephen Rae which will stay with me a long time. Hampstead Theatre for some reason chose to start their streaming with Wild, which, apart from a spectacular scenic surprise at the end, I didn’t love the first time around, and Andrew Lloyd Webber is live streaming all his musicals, starting with Joseph and the Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat. Nobody who loves the theatre can possibly be bored and they’re all available free in your own home. Check the timings as not everything is available all the time.
By the way, I have a big birthday tomorrow and I’ll be all alone in my London apartment as I have been for the past three weeks. And yet, not alone. The telephone rings constantly with friends and colleagues. WhatsApp and Skype are never silent. My neighbours leave groceries at my door along with presents like new books and 8 rolls of toilet paper. My email bulges. And my constant companions are the brilliant artists who bring their talent and fortitude into my home all day and all night. I am not lonely, I am blessed. Thank you all.
1 Comment
|
AuthorRuth Leon is a writer and critic specialising in music and theatre. Archives
May 2024
Categories
All
|