Do It Now! Does That Sound Familiar?

William Donald Schaefer held public office in Maryland for decades, serving as Mayor of Baltimore from 1971-1987, Governor of Maryland from 1987-1995, and Comptroller of Maryland from 1999-2007. He was well-known for his attention to detail and also for publicity stunts, including a taking a dip in the seal pool at the National Aquarium when he lost a bet. During his career in Baltimore, several national magazines dubbed him “Baltimore’s Best Mayor.” Composer Jonathan Jensen and playwright Rich Espey have a written a musical about “Willie Don” that’s now playing at Fells Point Corner Theater in Baltimore. Tickets are only available on a standby basis at this point; more information is at fpct.org/doitnow or 410-878-0228. I chatted with Jonathan Jensen about the process of creating the show and the current production this week.

 

The Fashions of the Opera

 

 

My husband and I are outliers in a number of ways, one of which is that we still dress up when we go to the theater or the opera. We’re both vintage enthusiasts as well and enjoy researching the proper attire for a particular era when we attend “period” (usually 1920’s) events. Well, we did, when going out was an option, and we can’t wait until it’s safe to do those things again.

Fans of Edith Wharton may recall that in The Age of Innocence, Ellen Olenska declines a last-minute invitation to the Old Met because she doesn’t think her dress is appropriate. Back in the day, dressing formally for the opera was not a matter of personal choice, as it is now – it was de rigueur. Certain evening clothes and accessories became popular because they looked great as one swanned around the lobby or checked out the occupants of the other boxes through – you guessed it – opera glasses. Some of these resembled miniature binoculars, while others were the lorgnette style – small spectacles attached to a folding handle or worn on a chain. They were made in a variety of materials, from enameled base metal to gold or silver set with gemstones.

Opera gloves were an essential part of a Victorian lady’s formal theater-going outfit and remained popular for many years. They are still worn by some brides, prom-goers, and gala attendees today. The most recognizable style of opera gloves is the mousquetaire – the long, over the elbow type with buttons near the wrist to allow the wearer to eat or drink without removing the gloves entirely. (Having sported this type of gloves on a few special occasions, I’d add that the greatest challenge in wearing them is often keeping them buttoned when you’re not at dinner!) They were usually made of silk or kidskin leather.

Of course, a woman attending the opera wouldn’t want to top off her Worth gown (or in later decades, her Lucille, Schiaparelli, or Balenciaga) with everyday outerwear. Nor would a gentleman finish off his top hat and tails with a casual coat. As such, the opera cloak was born! Men’s and women’s opera cloaks date back to the 1840’s and were made of flamboyantly colored silk or velvet, often trimmed in fur. As the Victorian era progressed, men’s formal cloaks were typically black, floor length, and fastened at the neck. Women’s opera cloaks and coats also came in black, although colorful ones remained in vogue as well. My personal favorites are the 1920’s and 1930’s silk velvet styles, which are quite collectible and continue to inspire designers today.

The opera hat, or top hat, as it’s now more commonly known, was invented in the 19th century. A London hatter named Thomas Francis Dollman came up with the brilliant idea of creating a collapsible top hat that could easily be stored under one’s theater seat or in the cloak room. These hats were made of the finest silk, so they didn’t come cheap, which made them an aspirational fashion purchase for men in the growing middle class.

Even jewelers got in on the act and gave certain pieces theatrical names that are still in use. These days, a matinee length pearl necklace is typically 20-24 inches long, while an opera length strand is 26-35 inches. My own opera length pearls are about 28 inches long as there are only 63 inches of me.

Back when far more people smoked, even cigarette holders were made in formal styles and lengths considered appropriate for elegant occasions. If you’ve seen Breakfast at Tiffany’s, or just a certain famous photograph of Audrey Hepburn, you’ve seen an opera length cigarette holder. They typically ranged from 16 to 20 inches long! Shorter theater length holders were also made in 10 to 14 inch styles. These were marketed to women; men’s cigarette holders generally didn’t exceed 4 inches in length. Some were made of affordable materials like Bakelite, but they could also be found in gold, silver, and ivory, embellished with precious or semi-precious stones. Plain or fancy, cigarette holders served a number of practical purposes, including reducing the amount of staining to a smoker’s teeth and keeping ashes off of one’s clothing. It must have required quite a bit of grace and poise to keep from getting ash on others when wielding a lit cigarette in a 20-inch holder while navigating a crowded theater lobby. The original social distancing tool, perhaps?

Mask maker, mask maker…

You’re probably seeing a lot of people wearing masks these days. Some are using paper ones, others are improvising with bandanas or ski masks, and those of us who sew are rejoicing because we finally have a legitimate use for all that scrap fabric that’s been driving our spouses crazy for years!

Last week, Jonathan and Kati asked me to make a couple of masks for each of them and I was happy to oblige. They kindly sent me the New York Times’ mask-making tutorial and I found it quite easy to use. So far, I’ve made a total of 16 masks for colleagues, my husband and myself, and friends.

https://www.nytimes.com/article/how-to-make-face-mask-coronavirus.html

I cut out a number of 9.5″ by 6.5″ rectangles of fabric, using a print for one layer and a solid color for the other. Since I had quite a stash of bias tape, I used that for the ties, stitching each piece so it wouldn’t flop open when the mask is worn.

The balloon print fabric originally came to me as gift wrap, and guess what it contained? A vintage sewing machine! Once friends find out you sew, they have a tendency to offer or just give you cool old machines. The newer models may have a lot of computerized bells and whistles, but I love the “action” of their elders and the fact that they’re made of metal, not plastic. I now own 6, dating from the early 1920’s to about 1990. There’s a reason many sewing machines that are over 100 years old are still in use – they’re little Sherman tanks! The sort of “stained glass” print is African cotton that I got in New York a couple of years ago – most of it became a sundress – and the purple, William Morris-esque one is from my current project, yet another 50’s style dress.

Sewing is one of the things keeping me (somewhat) sane in the present circumstances; another is writing the occasional virus-related song parody. Here’s today’s effort, sung to the tune of “Matchmaker, Matchmaker” from “Fiddler on the Roof”:

Mask maker, mask maker,

Make me a mask

Cut up some cloth

Get to the task

Mask maker, mask maker

Thread your machine

And sew me a perfect mask

Mask maker, mask maker

I cannot sew

Help a friend out

So I can go

Off to the grocery store and to get gas

Wearing your awesome mask!

Your fabric

Is kind of loud, but

It’s free, so

What do I care

If I’ve got birthday balloon print

All over my face and some strangers stare?

Mask maker, mask maker

Make me a mask

One day, we’ll all

Get our lives back

Til then, stay healthy, be safe, and be smart

And make me a matchless mask!

Koo koo ka choo, indeed!

From February 23-March 4, Dundalk Community Theatre is presenting Terry Johnson’s stage adaptation of the iconic 1967 film “The Graduate.” Recently, I spoke with director Todd Starkey about the play’s exploration of family dynamics, intimate relationships, and the huge societal changes that took place during the 1960’s. I have the honor of portraying Mrs. Robinson in this production, so hope you can attend!

 

 

 

Opera Goes to the Theater

These days, it’s not at all uncommon for symphony orchestras or even opera companies to present musical theater works. However, the reverse – doing an opera – is a daring move for a theater company! Earlier this week, I spoke with Music Director Ben Shaver about Stillpointe Theatre’s current production of Leonard Bernstein’s “Trouble in Tahiti.”

 

 

If you wish to sockdologize, please absquatulate!

150 years ago this week – on April 14, 1865, to be exact – President Abraham Lincoln was watching Tom Taylor’s comedy Our American Cousin at Ford’s Theater in Washington, D.C. When Joseph Jefferson, the actor playing Asa Trenchard, uttered his famous laugh line “Don’t know the manners of good society, eh? Well, I guess I know enough to turn you inside out, old gal — you sockdologizing old man-trap” another actor, John Wilkes Booth, slipped into Lincoln’s box, fired the shot that would prove fatal to the president, and escaped. That night, the remainder of the performance was, of course, suspended, but the play endured. Was this due to its now-notorious status, or despite it? Perhaps a bit of both.

Prior to that tragic evening,  Our American Cousin had been a smash hit in its own right. Premiered at Laura Keene’s eponymous theater in New York in 1858, the play ran for 150 nights in New York and 496 performances in London. After Lincoln’s assassination, it remained very popular for decades. If you’re up for a bit of Victorian comedy this weekend, you can see Our American Cousin in its entirety, presented in the courtyard of the Robert Long House in Fell’s Point. Adapted by Steven Lampredi and Buff Huntley, the play is presented in period acting style, which requires performers to direct their lines largely to the audience, rather than to one another, as is common today. Candle footlights and music of (or at least known in) the era add to the ambiance. Oh, and perhaps you recognize the actress at far right in this photo?

Our American Cousin

(Photo credit: Susan Izard)

Yes, that’s Yours Truly, portraying Georgina, the “delicate” fiancee of the eccentric Lord Dundreary, who speaks in bizarre aphorisms worthy of Ionesco and could well have been the inspiration for Monty Python’s Ministry of Silly Walks. In the original production, Dundreary was played by E.A. Sothern, who refused to do the role unless he could expand it – and did he ever! Dundreary grew from a minor role to the hit of the show, and Sothern made quite a career of him. Sothern’s wife was the original Georgina, and director Steven Lampredi has chosen to have that bit of history repeat itself by casting my husband, Jim Knost, as Dundreary this time around.

OAC BW

(L-R, back row: Mary Thomas, Kathie Mack, Kim Curtis, Lucie Poirier, Linda Schwab Deutsch. Foreground: Jim Knost and Daniel Riker. Photo credit: Susan Izard)

A few of us are playing more than one role in this production, and I’m glad I only have to change characters once! I go from “Skillet”, the cook, to the secretly starving Georgina. Most apropos, I think.

OAC servants

(Steven Lampredi, Dyana Neal, Brian Mac Ian. Photo credit: Susan Izard)

If you’re up for a bit of Victorian comedy this weekend, remaining performances of Our American Cousin run through Sunday, April 19.

Thursday April 16, 7:30 – $15
Friday April 17, 8:00 – $15
Saturday April 18, 2pm and 8pm – $20
Sunday April 19, 2pm – Pay what you can.

For more information, please visit http://www.newoldtheater.org/

Please be aware that the Privateers Festival is also being held in Fell’s Point this Saturday and Sunday, so allow extra time for travel and parking, or consider taking transit. Hope you can join us at Trenchard Manor!

Comedy with an edge

A program note for the Folger Theatre’s current production of “Twelfth Night” points out that this is the last of Shakespeare’s “romantic” or “happy” comedies, and that those that followed, like “Measure for Measure” and “All’s Well That Ends Well” are less innocent and more complicated. (To those I would add “Cymbeline,” “The Winter’s Tale” and “The Tempest.”) “Twelfth Night” is a lighthearted exploration of the various kinds of love: the filial love of Viola and Sebastian, the unrequited love of Orsino for Olivia, the mistaken love of Olivia for Cesario, the true love of Viola/Cesario for Orsino, the comradely love of Antonio for Sebastian, the carnal love of Maria for Sir Toby, and the trumped up love of Malvolio for Olivia. It is one of my favorite plays of Shakespeare. And yet…

Already some of the complications of the later romantic comedies are creeping in with the storyline of Malvolio, robbing it of its innocence, and I think that makes this play the turning point towards his later, darker comedies. Malvolio, it is true, is a pompous, self-righteous kill-joy with airs above his station, but for me the joke of his being put in his place is taken too far, and that always leaves me with a pang that casts a slight shadow over the pure enchantment of the ending. In the Folger production, Malvolio is played by the Stratford-upon-Avon born actor, Richard Sheridan Willis. With his baleful eyes, his impossibly crimped hair and rigidly mincing walk he plays him to perfection, getting every ounce out of exaggerated fastidiousness of the character. The letter scene is sheer delicious delight. By contrast, Willis brings an aching poignancy to Malvolio’s downfall at the end.

I have often raved about the intensely creative and inventive productions in the intimate Folger Theatre, and this one is right up there with the very best of them. Robert Richmond has set it in the early 1900’s – interestingly, I have seen a couple of other productions of “Twelfth Night” set around that period; the play seems to lend itself to that era of pre-war grace. (In one such production I saw Malvolio take out his pocket watch and correct the time on the sundial!) It is Viola’s play, and Emily Trask holds it together beautifully. William Vaughan, who is so new on the scene that he is not yet a member of Actors’ Equity, is integrated into the play much more than Sebastian usually is, which helps to build the believability of their twinship. Michael Brusasco’s Orsino is astoundingly handsome (he’s played Mr. Darcy in a couple of productions of “Pride and Prejudice” and one can see why!) and Olivia (played by Rachel Pickup, who is the daughter of the English actor, Ronald Pickup) is ethereally beautiful in every way. It hardly seems fair to single out particular actors, though, because it is the wonderful ensemble work that makes the production so successful – that and the ingenious use of music. Viola plays the cello surprisingly, Feste (Louis Butelli) plays ukulele, and Joshua Morgan, who plays Valentine and is also billed the music director, is a remarkably talented pianist, performing everything from Satie and Debussy to part of Beethoven’s Emperor Concerto and even some ragtime. The music, as is often the case with Folger productions, is integral, and lifts the play to a whole other level, conjuring up the era and the lightness – as well as the darkness – of the play.

Cast-of-Twelfth-Night-520x346