Stomp in Seattle: Everything INCLUDING the Kitchen Sink

Last weekend, The GF and I saw a perfromance of Stomp in Seattle. It's a show I've wanted to see for some time.


Stomp is a working class tap dance show that looks nothing like any other tap dance show. It's an ensemble of 8 people who clap, flick, rustle, bang, swish, and, yes, stomp across the stage. They tell little stories, develop characters, and tell jokes, all without a single word of dialog.


If there's a overriding message to the show, it would be that music is everyhwere, and music is cheap. If you have a newspaper, a broom, or a bucket, you can make complex music.


If there's another message, it would be that teamwork makes all the difference. While one person can make fascinating music with a cigarette lighter or trash can, it takes a whole team of people working together to make it truly extraordinary.


Most of the segments begin with one person playing an improvised instrument. Then someone else comes in and builds on that, then someone else builds on that, and before you know it, there's a symphony going on.


The opening sequence is a great example of that. One guy comes out pushing a broom. He sweeps to a rythm. Then he starts adding broom taps to the rythm. Next, someone else comes out, also pushing a broom in rythm. His actions with with the broom are different. Maybe he taps it differently, or sweeps in a different sequence. Eventually, there are 8 people on stage with brooms and they've built up this whole, intense musical experience using just percussion -- no melody.


In some respects, it reminds me of the Kid Beyond performance I saw at w00tstock! last year. In that performance, he made a sound with his voice, and looped it, then added another electronically. Obviously they are two very differnt things. Kid Beyond was one guy who could also do melody and do it all electronically. The similarity is in the way they start with one simple sound and then layer complexity on top of that.


Stomp's chroeography was impressive as well. It wasn't just about banging stuff. At points they were tossing items to one another while playing them. So in additioanl to the music, and dance, there were also elements of juggling.


The show surprised me with its nuance. It exceeded my expectations with its story telling and character interaction. I expected it to be a fantastic exlporation of rythm and percussion.


Keeps your eyes open and find a team. Extraordinary things like Stomp are possible.

Wicked in San Francisco at the Orpheum

Look familiar?  About a month and a half ago The GF and I saw Wicked in Seattle.  I wrote about it here.  It was a great show, and The GF liked it so much, she wanted to see it again.  So when w00tstock was announced for San Francsicso, we decided two shows made the trip worthwhile.

The show was essentially the same, as you would expect, but there were some subtle differences.  The stage didn't seem quite as wide. Some of the scene transitions seemed to overlap a bit too much.

The big difference was in the portrayal of Glinda.  I don't know if it was an acting decision or a directing decision. But it's interesting how a subtle change in actions and intonation can really change the way a character is perceived, even with the same script.

The Glinda in the Seattle version was more chipper, shallow, and ditzy.  She started the show as utterly clueless and unaware of the impact she had on others.  She was spoiled and self-centered, but didn't seem malevolent. The character was definitely a bully, but it was more because she didn't really know any better.

The Glinda in the San Francisco show was still chipper and ditzy, but she had a bit of a mean streak.  At the beginning, the character was played for exagerated comic releif, in addition to moving the story forward.  Despite that, it was a darker portrayal.  And she seemed to have more questionable motives.

The Seattle Glinda tried to get what she wanted and didn't really give any thought to the people she hurt along the way.  The San Francisco Glinda tried to get what she wanted and seemed to delight in other people's pain along the way.

Sure the San Francisco Glinda grew through the story, and became a better person, but the transition seemed less genuine than the one in Seattle.

I'm not complaining. The show was fantastic with powerful music, transformative songs, and excellent live effects.  Regardless of where you are when it comes to town, go see the show.

Wicked in Seattle at the Paramount

I'm not sure how much of this is my memory and how much has been influenced by stories I was told, but when I saw the Wizard of Oz as a little kid, those flying monkeys terrified me. Especially as the ripped the Scarecrow to bits. Apparently we had to turn off the TV.

I think that's a healthy response. Not the turning off the TV, the being terrified by flying monkeys. Monkeys are not supposed to fly. Evolution has relegated them to running, crawling, walking, and swinging critters. Wings are not supposed to be be part of the equation.

Don't trust anyone who's not afraid of flying monkeys.

Fortunately, they don't terrify the 38 year old 27 year old me in the same way they did the 6 year old version. And I did not have to run screaming from the theater into the Seattle night as the curtain rose on Wicked.


Tonight The GF and I caught the national touring production of Wicked. It's a fantastic show, and the best Broadway production I've seen in Seattle in years.

The show is intense, complicated, dark, and amazingly funny.

It tells the back story of the Glinda the Good Witch and the Elphaba the Wicked Witch, from The Wizard of Oz. It's a show about moral ambiguity, the importance of maintaining a healthy skepticism of what others say, and how appearances are rarely what they seem.

In addition to the witchs' backgrounds, the show answers other questions from the Wizard of Oz, such as how those damn monkeys got their wings, why those ruby slippers were so important, how the Scarecrow, Tin Man, and Cowardly Lion got the way they are, and just what was up with that freak tornado.

The story telling is excellent. With everything that happens, you would expect the plot to be complicated -- and you would be right. Despite that, I had no trouble following it. It's well paced, and the complicated stuff was clearly articulated. It may have been a little heavy on exposition in parts, but I'm okay with that.

The music and singing were fantastic. Words did get lost from time to time, but not so much that it was impossible to keep up, and they did a better job articulating than in many musicals.

The sets were creatively and effectively used in a small space. Familiar elements changed into other elements over the course of the evening. Even when I knew I was looking at the same set piece used in a different context, it still became a different item.

One of the effects I did not care for though, and I'm not even sure it was an effect. Towards the big climax right before intermission, with noise, lights, and smoke machines going, suddenly I heard the "Whooooooooooooooooop Whoooooooooooooooooop Whoooooooooooooooop" and saw the flashing white lights at the exit signs that all scream "Fire Alarm!" No one moved.

I'm 90% sure that was the theater fire alarm going off. But no one stopped the show, no guests started to leave, and as the song ended, so did the alarm. There was no follow up announcement.

There are a couple things that seem likely to me. Either the smoke machines on stage set off the alarm somehow, or they actually used it as part of the show.

If it's the latter, I have two problems with that. First, it was distracting. Instead of focusing on the show, the fire alarm took me out of the play. I was looking for exits and watching the crowd to make sure we could get out without being trampled. And I was wondering what was going on.

The other problem is that they were, in fact, yelling "Fire!" in a crowded theater, and we all know that's a bad idea. There was tremendous risk in doing that.

So I'm hoping it was just a coincidental false alarm.

But I got back into the show once the"crisis" was past.

The show is hysterical. Typically heavy shows will have one character or a couple scenes specifically for the comic relief. Everyone gets to take a break for a few minutes and laugh. In Wicked they don't quite do that. Instead, the puns, snappy comebacks, sight gags (Glinda has a great shoe collection) and one liners are spread throughout the show. It's a delicate balancing act and they did a fantastic job of being funny without being silly.

I could probably do a lengthy post everyday for a week discussing the different levels of meaning and themes entwined in the plot, but I'll spare you that for now. Here is a list of just some of themes in the show:

• Animal rights
• Value of friendship
• Gullibility of the public
• The challenges of getting what you want
• Appearances can be deceiving
• Kids can be cruel
• The risks of following your conscience
• Risks of jumping to conclusions
• Following your heart versus doing the "right" thing

The last one is interesting. There are several romantic pairings in the show where one character chooses to be with another because they feel obligated -- not because they truly feel passion. And they don't even realize that's what is happening to them. It's not a main plot point, but recurs through the play. People give up what they want because they feel the owe someone their affection. It's not something you see in many stories and serves to make this one even deeper.

So go. This is a great show. I would suggest reading the story first. I looked it up here before I went to the show. You should be able to follow it without the back ground, but I still find it helpful.

Wicked plays in Seattle through early October.

Cats at the Paramount in Seattle

On Friday, the GF and I saw Cats at the Paramount in Seattle.

It's the second time I've seen the show. The first time, I saw it on Broadway in 1987 (or was it 1986?). My high school had an annual tradition called Activity Day. Every Freshman, Sophomore, and Junior had to choose one activity from a list and participate. The activities included Planetarium trips, weekends away, golf outings, and more. There were between 50 and 100 to choose from. If you didn't choose one, it was chosen for you -- Gymn Movie. You had to watch a bad movie in the gymn.

One year, I chose go see Cats.

It was my first Broadway experience, and I had only a vague idea of what was going on. But I enjoyed the music, and for years afterward songs from the show would just pop into my head at random moments. I'd be walking down the street and suddenly Magical Mr. Mistoffolees would be twirling next to me. Or I'd find myself needing to dodge the latest antics of Mungojerrie (or was it Rumpleteazer?)

So 20+ years later, how does the traveling show hold up? Pretty well, though it's not quite the same. The stage is smaller. And while the performers still scamper about the audience, they don't have the same ownership of the space that they did in the custom theater.

The show itself has some pacing issues. Several of the dance numbers go on way too long. While I do enjoy the song and dance, I also want the story to move along. As I've done more writing and work with Play Cole, I've come to appreciate the need to advance the story.

But Cat's is about more than the show itself. It's about Broadway history. Cat's brought in a new era of big Broadway musicals, and paved the way for long running shows like Les Miserable and Phantom of the Opera. Would either of those shows have had the success they did without following the path carved out by Cats? Would we have been willing to accept the people dressed up like locomotives in Starlight Express, if we hadn't already accepted people dressed up as Cats?

Cats opened up Broadway to a wider audience and brought in leagues of new theater goers. Tracing its legacy further, I wonder if Giuliani would have been able to transform Times Square from the seedy version of the 80s into the Disney version of the late 90s had it not been for the new era in musical theater that Cats brought into the city.

But back to the show. If you are a theater fan, go see it when you get the chance. It's a good show, with some great music, and an important place in theatrical history.

If you bore easily from dance, or insist on a fast-paced story, or do not care for plays based on poetry anthologies, suffer from ailurophobia, can't set aside the silliness of the idea, or only insist on best of breed performances, you can probably skip this tour.

I'm glad I didn't.

Phantom of the Opera in Seattle

When Phantom of the Opera first opened on Broadway, it quickly sold out. I recall hearing stories of people waiting more than a year to get tickets (though the years may have dulled the accuracy of that statement). In the years that followed, I heard the music everywhere, but I never made it to the show.

Tonight, though, I did catch the Seattle stop of the latest tour. Phantom has been playing to sold out crowds at Seattle's Paramount theater for nearly a month now, and has just one more week to go on the current stop. I was lucky to catch it when I did.

The music in the show is great, and the costumes are beautiful. I've listened to the show on CD multiple times, but it's tough to really get a handle on the show's story without seeing it live. That live performance is the key to contextualizing the music.

Phantom is all about the spectacle, from the big, memorable songs, to the pyrotechnics, to the the swinging chandelier. Those elements, along with a solid cast carry the show.

That's fortunate, because while I enjoyed the show overall, the story was bit week. There are scenes that go no where. For example, the read through of the new play in the second half could probably be cut without hurting anything.

There are several interesting secondary characters that seem to be left hanging. For example, the Dance Captain is tough, but does help the hero. The story implies there is more to her than we see, but never goes into detail. She seemed particularly interesting, but there is no exploration of her character.

Christian's dancer friend also seems interesting but nothing happens.

An shorter, 90-minute version of the show plays in Vegas every night. When I first heard about that, I though it was rather silly to cut it down like that. After seeing the show tonight though, the Vegas cut makes sense. Phantom just doesn't seem to have enough story to adequately fill its 2.5 hour run time.

Despite those quibbles, this is still a great show. And now the music makes much more sense.