I have to say that this is one of the few cases in a story where the villain has done something to make me wish for his ultimate defeat, not for the happy ending and peace in the world of the story, but so the villain suffers. At first, I could sort of sympathize with Salieri; here he has spent his entire life following the word of God, even remaining faithful to a woman he doesn't love when he is in love with a student. Then along comes this foul-mouthed upstart who not only sleeps with said student, but is also a vastly superior composer to Salieri with seemingly no effort. His initial goal, to get back at Mozart, seems very human; all he wants is simple vengeance. When he learns, however, of Mozart's talent, he lashes out at God through the young artist - "shooting the messenger," as it were.
This reminds me of Will Eisner's "A Contract with God," a story of a Jewish man who, as the title implies, entered a contract with God (though he never actually received confirmation of agreement from the other party) that, if he were to live a pious life, God would never inflict harm upon him. For a long time this agreement goes unbroken, until one day when his daughter dies. The man renounces God, uses money entrusted to him by the Synagogue to buy some property, and eventually gets rich. Later in life, he decides to try a new contract, and pays a group of Rabbis to make an unbreakable contract between him and God. The night he receives the finished copy, he has a heart attack and dies.
In both cases the main character presumes to force God into helping him for a price. God, an omnipotent being to whom humans owe their very existence according to the religion each character worships. It is the fact that they believe that God must adhere to the laws of man, that they can demand things of him in exchange for their faith, something God probably believes should be given willingly, that shows that gluttony is not the only deadly sin Salieri practices. This presumption on his part is a clear expression of hubris; not only can he order God around, he can also harm God's messenger when the deity doesn't obey.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Thursday, January 29, 2009
"Art"
First of all, this was a good play to start off with; it was simple in cast, writing, set design and character development. A good start for people such as myself, who have less experience in reading scripts than many FPA majors.
I also enjoyed how I didn't have to be told that the play takes place in Europe; the use of francs as currency, as well as many turns of phrase, gave that away without someone having to announce a trip to London or wherever.
Of the three characters in the play, I feel like Yvan really got the short end of the stick in the end. Serge gets to keep his painting and his friend, while still gaining a sense of humor. Marc gets the reassurance that he is not being replaced by a painting. Yvan gets a marriage he didn't really want, a job that relies on said marriage, and the burden of knowing the reconciliation of their friendship started with a lie. Where the other two gain peace of mind, Yvan loses what little he might have had.
The painting in the play seems to me to be a reflection of the play itself. "Art" is rather minimalist in style - only three characters, two representing artistic movements, simple dialogue with frequent repetition, and minimal set design. Especially when compared to "Amadeus," a much grander production with more characters, props and a more convoluted plot.
I also enjoyed how I didn't have to be told that the play takes place in Europe; the use of francs as currency, as well as many turns of phrase, gave that away without someone having to announce a trip to London or wherever.
Of the three characters in the play, I feel like Yvan really got the short end of the stick in the end. Serge gets to keep his painting and his friend, while still gaining a sense of humor. Marc gets the reassurance that he is not being replaced by a painting. Yvan gets a marriage he didn't really want, a job that relies on said marriage, and the burden of knowing the reconciliation of their friendship started with a lie. Where the other two gain peace of mind, Yvan loses what little he might have had.
The painting in the play seems to me to be a reflection of the play itself. "Art" is rather minimalist in style - only three characters, two representing artistic movements, simple dialogue with frequent repetition, and minimal set design. Especially when compared to "Amadeus," a much grander production with more characters, props and a more convoluted plot.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Why theater?
This question posed quite the trick for me. Generally, I don't watch that many plays. For that matter, I don't watch much in the way of movies or TV, either - just what my friends happen to be watching when we're in the same room.
I think that, for me anyway, the draw of live theater would have to be the difficulty of it. Here are these people who, in many cases, get paid very little (if anything) to go onstage, as opposed to famous actors who make millions off of each movie they do. They drill day in and day out, having to perfect their lines not one scene at a time, but be able to recite every line, sometimes for every character in case one actor misses a cue. Mistakes will be made, and nobody can yell "cut!" and order a redo. Everything that is done is done for keeps - at least until the next performance.
Another draw is the immediacy of seeing a live show. When I was younger, I wanted to see the Phantom of the Opera so badly. I would have killed to see it. Naturally, when it came out in movie form, I pounced on it. A year later I finally got to see it onstage at the Providence Performing Arts Center. The voices weren't as good, I couldn't see facial expressions as well, and obviously there was no water in the Phantom's lair like there should have been, but the second the chandelier came sailing over my head, I was sold. This wasn't a simple celluloid (or laser-disc) reproduction of actors who had finished this months ago; this was happening now, and I was a part of it. The actors wouldn't receive my appreciation in the form of money alone; they would hear my applause.
What I find especially interesting is the impact of film adaptations of plays (mostly musicals more recently) on live theater. Rent was a smash hit, as were Hairspray and Mamma Mia, and I'm sure it's only a matter of time before Wicked hits the big screen. Apart from musicals, the most popular adaptations seem to be of Shakespeare plays - Romeo and Juliet, Hamlet, A Midsummer Night's Dream, Much Ado About Nothing. Will seeing the movie prevent audiences from watching the play, or urge them to do so? My current passion is a movie that came out recently, Repo! The Genetic Opera (and when they say opera, they mean opera - almost every line is sang). Here's an interview with Terrance Zdunich - co-creator of the show who also plays the Graverobber.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m82c24F0CSs
As he states, the production was really made to be a movie. Originally, however, it started out as a two-man show with a much more basic plot. This interview does go on about the many advantages of film, but it does mention one important aspect of theater: the potential for change. Once the final product of a movie is made, it cannot be changed. A play, even when its writing is finished, is always a work in progress.
Okay, so I've yelled about this long enough. I hope you enjoy!
I think that, for me anyway, the draw of live theater would have to be the difficulty of it. Here are these people who, in many cases, get paid very little (if anything) to go onstage, as opposed to famous actors who make millions off of each movie they do. They drill day in and day out, having to perfect their lines not one scene at a time, but be able to recite every line, sometimes for every character in case one actor misses a cue. Mistakes will be made, and nobody can yell "cut!" and order a redo. Everything that is done is done for keeps - at least until the next performance.
Another draw is the immediacy of seeing a live show. When I was younger, I wanted to see the Phantom of the Opera so badly. I would have killed to see it. Naturally, when it came out in movie form, I pounced on it. A year later I finally got to see it onstage at the Providence Performing Arts Center. The voices weren't as good, I couldn't see facial expressions as well, and obviously there was no water in the Phantom's lair like there should have been, but the second the chandelier came sailing over my head, I was sold. This wasn't a simple celluloid (or laser-disc) reproduction of actors who had finished this months ago; this was happening now, and I was a part of it. The actors wouldn't receive my appreciation in the form of money alone; they would hear my applause.
What I find especially interesting is the impact of film adaptations of plays (mostly musicals more recently) on live theater. Rent was a smash hit, as were Hairspray and Mamma Mia, and I'm sure it's only a matter of time before Wicked hits the big screen. Apart from musicals, the most popular adaptations seem to be of Shakespeare plays - Romeo and Juliet, Hamlet, A Midsummer Night's Dream, Much Ado About Nothing. Will seeing the movie prevent audiences from watching the play, or urge them to do so? My current passion is a movie that came out recently, Repo! The Genetic Opera (and when they say opera, they mean opera - almost every line is sang). Here's an interview with Terrance Zdunich - co-creator of the show who also plays the Graverobber.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m82c24F0CSs
As he states, the production was really made to be a movie. Originally, however, it started out as a two-man show with a much more basic plot. This interview does go on about the many advantages of film, but it does mention one important aspect of theater: the potential for change. Once the final product of a movie is made, it cannot be changed. A play, even when its writing is finished, is always a work in progress.
Okay, so I've yelled about this long enough. I hope you enjoy!
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