Showing posts with label Marc Balester. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Marc Balester. Show all posts

Thursday, January 14, 2010

Eurydice by Sarah Ruhl, Different Stages at the City Theatre, January 8 - 30






Sarah Ruhl's version of the Eurydice myth begins as a fable. Nicole Swahn, the childishly enthusiastic and simple-minded Eurydice, frolics at the beach with Bastion Carboni as her beau, the music geek Orpheus. They're on their way to an unreflecting storybook wedding. Little matter that she has no comprehension of the music in his head and apparently no head for her own history.

In part, because she's not getting the mail. We learn that Eurydice's father, a deceased man without a name, has been writing letters to her from the underworld. A bit of a simple dreamer himself, he has somehow proven resistant to the anesthetic properties of the River Lethe. Dad remembers her; he remembers and enacts his dreams of squiring her to her wedding. He even remembers how to read and to write, aptitudes that are supposed to drop away in the shades. His epistles, trusted to the worms for delivery, are regularly intercepted by a smirking, swaggering Marc Balester.

This is an imaginative turn on the ancient myth. By tradition, Orpheus with his musical gift is the protagonist of the story, charming his way into the afterlife and almost retrieving his wife. Ruhl's reformulation is a curious mash-up of myth, coming-of-age fable and naive Christian tale-telling. Concentrating on the father-daughter relation, she is exploring the persistence of memory and of human attachment in the face of death.

Read more and view performance images at AustinLiveTheatre.com . . . .

Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Images: Eurydice by Sarah Ruhl, Different Stages at the City Theatre, January 8 - 30

UPDATE: Click for ALT review, January 11



Received directly from Different Stages:
images by Brett Brookshire


for

Eurydice
a dramatic comedy by Sarah Ruhl

performances January 8 – 30, 2009

Thursdays – Saturdays at 8 p.m., Sundays at 2 p.m.
The City Theater, 3823 Airport Blvd., Ste. D. (map)

Pick your Price: $15, $20, $25, $30

Experience the fantastic and hallucinatory myth of Orpheus through the eyes of its heroine, Eurydice. Eurydice journeys through the jaws of death into the Underworld where she happily reunites with her father who teaches her about love, loss and the pleasures and pains of memory. There, washed in the river of forgetfulness, she struggles to remember her lost love.

When Orpheus returns to rescue her, she must decide whether to stay with her beloved father or return to the land of the living.

Things become more complicated when the malevolent Lord of the Underworld wants Eurydice for his bride, and a chorus of stones try to coerce her into conforming to the rigid rules of the Underworld. With humor, contemporary characters, ingenious plot twists, and breathtaking visual effects, the play is a fresh look at a timeless love story.

Directed by Karen Jambon (Miss Witherspoon) Eurydice features Nicole Swahn (An Inspector Calls) as the title character. Bastion Carboni (Poison Apple Initiative) plays the musician Orpheus. Norman Blumensaadt (A Number) is Eurydice’s father, and Marc Balester (A Number) is the Lord of the Underworld. Betsy McCann (Oceana), Jonathan Blackwell (Oceana), and Miriam Rubin (The Shadow Box) are the chorus of stones.

Performances are Thursdays through Saturdays at 8:00 p.m. and Sundays at 2 p.m.. Tickets are Pick your Price: $15, $20, $25, and $30.

For tickets and information call 474-8497

View more images at AustinLiveTheatre.com . . . .

Sunday, December 20, 2009

Upcoming: Eurydice by Sarah Ruhl, Different Stages, January 8 - 30


UPDATE: Click for ALT review, January 11


Received directly:

Different Stages
presents

Sarah Ruhl’s
Eurydice

January 8 - 30, 2010
at City Theater, 3823 Airport, Suite D
Thursdays - Saturdays at 8 p.m., Sundays at 2 p.m.

“Pick your Price: $15, $20, $25, $30
Call 474-8497

Different Stages continues its 2009–2010 season with the dramatic comedy Eurydice. Sarah Ruhl reinvents the fantastic and hallucinatory myth of Orpheus through the eyes of its heroine, Eurydice. Eurydice journeys through the jaws of death into the Underworld where she happily reunites with her father who teaches her about love, loss and the pleasures and pains of memory.

There she washed in the river of forgetfulness, struggles to remember her lost love. When Orpheus returns to rescue her, she must decide whether to leave her beloved father to return to the land of the living. Things become more complicated when the malevolent Lord of the Underworld wants Eurydice for his bride and a chorus of stones try to coerce her into conforming to the rigid rules of the Underworld. With humor, contemporary characters, ingenious plot twists, and breathtaking visual effects, the play is a fresh look at a timeless love story.


Directed by Karen Jambon (Miss Witherspoon) Eurydice features Nicole Swahn (An Inspector Calls) as the title character. Bastion Carboni (Poison Apple Initiative) plays the musician Orpheus. Norman Blumensaadt (A Number) is Eurydice’s father and Marc Balester (A Number) is the Lord of the Underworld. Betsy McCann (Oceana), Jonathan Blackwell (Oceana) and Miriam Rubin (The Shadow Box) are the chorus of stones.

Performances are Thursdays through Saturdays at 8:00 p..m. and Sundays at 2 p.m.. Tickets are Pick your Price: $15, $20, $25, and $30.

Monday, April 27, 2009

A Number by Caryl Churchill, Different Stages, April 23 - May 10





The concept of human cloning is profoundly unsettling.

We like the fact each of us is unique. Individuality situates us in the universe and in our own skins. Each of us might fantasize a different reality or our self as a different individual, but we intuit that even those avatars, if realized, would be unique.

The existence of fraternal twins or triplets is nature's benevolent random trick that reinforces our faith in our own individuality. Nature has made each of us.

But suppose that nature took a backseat in the process?

Click to read more at AustinLiveTheatre.com . . . .