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Archive for the ‘Arts’ Category

Approximately five years ago, I read Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice as well as her other five novels after receiving an all-in-one collection as a gift. Having only truly read Pride and Prejudice once (I can’t count the Cliff Notes I used in high school), it’s a wonder that I am reviewing this festive micro-history which delightfully illustrates why Jane Austen’s perfect Regency romance has remained so untouchable since its publication in 1813, even as her style and subject matter are profusely imitated, now more than ever!  

Reading Susannah Fullerton’s pleasant homage to the timeless novel upon its 200-year anniversary provided me with all sorts of intriguing details, historical background, and gossipy tidbits about its creation and legacy that enhance my appreciation of the novel.  Fullerton, president of the Jane Austen Society of Australia, effectively demonstrates the reasons for the novel’s perfection and its ever-increasing appeal for readers of either sex, of all ages, in nearly every community worldwide. She cheerfully describes her analysis of individual characters, Austen’s style, and the famous opening sentence on which an entire chapter is devoted.

It was especially amusing to learn of all the various editions, versions, translations, sequels, retellings, mash-ups, adaptations, film interpretations, and other assorted Austen-inspired endeavors that have fueled a sort of Pride-and-Prejudice mania. Darcy-mania culture took off on the tails of the sexy 1995 BBC film version, starring Colin Firth (of the infamous lake scene), and kindled much new interest in the reading of the novel.

Fullerton pretty much concludes that no sequel author or film producer has ever really matched Jane Austen’s masterful style and that what lovers of the novel should really ever do is just keep reading and re-reading Pride and Prejudice. I agree that the masterpiece stands alone, but Austen did very effectively infect most of her readers with a desire to continue knowing Elizabeth and Darcy and to learn ever more about each well-drawn character’s future. Imagine if she’d lived long enough to write her own sequels, or to taste the fame her novels eventually gave her!

Check the WRL catalog for Celebrating Pride and Prejudice : 200 years of Jane Austen’s Masterpiece

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The Art Detective Philip Mould became a television celebrity from his role appraising works of art unearthed from dusty attics or flea markets on the popular “Antiques Roadshow,” but according to his memoir he began as an ambitious art dealer who just happened to fall in love with the game of chasing down a good find using the forensic and research expertise of his reliable staff, his vast knowledge of artists and fine art portraiture and often pure instinct along with a willingness to risk his reputation in the highly competitive art world.  Sheer luck seems to have been in his favor with a number of great finds that, had he been wrong — such as in his decision to scrape away some over-painting — might have had disastrous consequences both financial and for art’s sake.  He seems very fortunate to have found early success that he has been rolling with ever since, which makes for a very fascinating read about his life’s work.

“In this book I explain how the history of a picture can color its appearance.  I show how provenance can completely blind eminent authorities into believing a picture is authentic when it is a fake, and also how provenance can unlock a picture’s importance and stature.”

This book was very appealing for the sense of mystery involved with researching and following clues to determine a work of art’s provenance and condition, often literally peeling layers of paint to reveal the true masterpiece in disguise. I liked the storytelling skill and use of suspense.  Descriptions of bizarre art collectors’ habits created vivid portraits of the persons associated with the art under investigation.  These and some incredible frauds provided a number of laugh-out-loud moments for me as well.

The stories relating the complex process of unraveling the truth about individual works of arts were rich with detail, wit, and sensationalism.  I will say that they could have benefited from more complete documentation of his findings; particularly, some additional dates would have oriented me into the moment better.  Some of the works discussed are in museums or locations that I have either had access to or had contemplated in books previously, which increased my interest in learning more.  The book also sparked my interest in seeking episodes of Antiques Roadshow on both BBC and PBS, which before I read this book were the type of put-me-to-sleep programs I would have clicked right past.  I felt as though I were being welcomed behind the scenes of the elite art environment in which Philip Mould makes his living.

Check the WRL catalog for The Art Detective

I found it to be a very quick and engaging read as an e-book.

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Just KidsPatti Smith is the proto-punk goddess whose music is fierce, but hardly every listener’s cup of tea. Robert Mapplethorpe was a photographer whose most famous works were pictures of nude men, often depicted in sexually explicit poses and masochistic acts. I like some edgy things, but neither of these artists really do much for me, and a more conservative person might run the other way. I’m not even a huge fan of their scene, where style and innovation seem to matter more than substance, but I’ve always been curious about those magical moments in history where a group of creative people find each other and use the energy of their meeting to create something new.

Patti Smith’s memoir, Just Kids, captures just such a time perfectly. Smith came to New  York in 1967 after giving up a baby to adoption upstate. She was young and looking for a fresh start. One of the first people she met was Robert Mapplethorpe, a minor acquaintance who became her fast friend after saving her from a bad date. The two moved in together and tried to make a go of a relationship, even though it soon became apparent that Mapplethorpe was obviously homosexual. Patti somewhat naively believed that their love would overcome Robert’s sexual preference, and so began several years of ups and downs. Robert could be incredibly supportive of Patti and her art, but substance abuse and a need for fame could make him neglectful at other times.

The background here is fascinating, as Smith and Mapplethorpe rub elbows with the artists and scenesters of the Chelsea Hotel, Andy Warhol’s Factory, and the pioneering music venue CBGB’s. The story follows the early rise of both friends, then jumps forward a decade and ends poignantly with Robert’s death from AIDS in 1989.

Smith writes with real heart. The prose gets a bit florid at times, but that’s easy to forgive, as is her sometimes naive view of Mapplethorpe, as the author so clearly feels all of the emotions behind her story honestly. This especially shines through on the audiobook. Smith is a clumsy reader, a bit monotone and with funny pronunciations for some words (“drawlings” instead of “drawings”), but she’s so absolutely free of pretense that I found the awkwardness charming and authentic, not off-putting.

Check the WRL catalog for Just Kids

Or try it on audiobook on CD

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pillarsOK, so here it is.  In my post for Pillars of the Earth I mentioned that an illustrated source would add to the impact of Ken Follett’s prose.  With  photographer f-stop Fitzgerald’s beautiful work, such a source is available.

We’ve become jaded to the visual elements of the cathedral in our day.  At best, most of us who go to them will take a tour with a guide who repeats the same text 20 times a day; at worst, we will look at, but not see what the average 12th century person would see.  What we see is a big building filled with bits of this and pictures of that.  What even the illiterate masses would see was their own Bible, with clear lessons about sin and salvation, the examples of saints, martyrs, and evangelists, and the everlasting punishments awaiting the damned.  But the technological innovations of the Gothic cathedral would be the psychological setup for congregants to strive for a heaven shown in soaring ceilings, intricate carvings incorporated into the structure, and light pouring through unimaginably large and stained glass windows.

Working with text from Pillars of the Earth (which sadly doesn’t align with the photos), Fitzgerald gives us unique and intimate views of elements that might prove overwhelming or inaccessible to a modern visitor.  The profligate details in medieval churches overwhelm the modern viewer, and are inaccessible both from a physical standpoint and from an iconographic standpoint.  Some of his portraits are black-and-white images that appear to be reproduced as negatives against silver backgrounds.  Others are full-color illustrations drenched with the hues of sunrise and sunset, taking advantage of the east-west alignment required of an cathedral.  And still others are black-and-white closeups of carved figures, including the grotesque gargoyles and monsters that reminded viewers of the imps of hell awaiting sinners.

Fitzgerald doesn’t limit his subject to ancient cathedrals or images—he incorporates a few pieces that have the same feel but an unmistakably modern sensibility.  They show that the fascination and need to build these immense and awe-inspiring buildings was not limited to pre-Reformation communities.  The introduction by sculptor Simon Verity is a reminder that artists are still working in stone to capture visceral religious emotions.

Williamsburg Regional Library has decided to catalog and shelve this kind of book with the original source so that readers will hopefully find them when looking for the original fiction.  (Other authors we’ve done this with include Patrick O’Brian and J.R.R. Tolkien.) Hopefully books like Pillars of the Almighty will drive readers’ imagination and understanding of the story.

Search for Pillars of the Almighty in the WRL Catalog.

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Sacrebleu ”En garde!” said Toulouse-Lautrec, … boldly drawing a cordial glass from his walking stick. “Oh, balls. Run it is, then.”

I would read many more books in which crimes were solved by Count Henri-Marie-Raymond de Toulouse-Lautrec, who frequently mixes up his sword cane with his flask cane, in which is concealed cognac and a cordial glass. The artist as inebriated detective is the best thing about this magical-realist historical farce, in which Toulouse-Lautrec teams up with Lucien Lessard, a baker and aspiring painter, to investigate the murder of Vincent van Gogh. It’s a romp through the cabarets, brothels, and studios of Impressionist Paris.

“Henri was finding the detective work did not agree with his constitution as it involved talking to people who were odd or stupid, without the benefit of the calming effect of alcohol.”

With his last breath, van Gogh warned his fellow artists against the Colorman, a pigment grinder who supplies his customers with a particularly potent shade of blue, and his female companion, a woman of many guises. Perhaps you’ve seen her as Manet’s Olympia, or the inexplicably nude picnicker in Le déjeuner sur l’herbe. Maybe she’s Whistler’s White Girl, or Toulouse-Lautrec’s Carmen Gaudin. Maybe she’s the mysterious and elusive Juliette, with whom Lucien Lessard has fallen in love. And if she is, Lessard is in trouble, because where this muse goes, madness and murder follow. As they say in France, cherchez la femme.

Moore’s humor often comes with its own rim-shot (of course Georges Seurat’s muse is named “Dot”), but the number of things that are played for laughs can’t disguise the fact that Moore has fallen deeply in love with this time period and its crazy bohemian painters, and his enthusiasm buoys the story.

As an added bonus, the text includes color reproductions of most of the paintings that are mentioned, so, although it may be like learning about Wagner from a Bugs Bunny cartoon, you can pick up quite a lot of art history. And if you want to know more, Moore has a time sink of a web site preserving his research notes, additional paintings, and photographs.

Check the WRL catalog for Sacré Bleu

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One of the most celebrated dancers of the 20th century, Gene Kelly, was born in 1912 (one hundred years ago!). He is still revered among film and dance enthusiasts for his innovative work in film musicals, his charming personality on screen, and most of all, for his remarkable skill as a dancer.

WRL recently purchased Gene Kelly: Anatomy of a Dancer, part of the “American Masters” series. This nonfeature DVD is narrated by actor Stanley Tucci and gives terrific insight into Kelly’s career.

I enjoyed watching the film clips of Kelly in motion. The documentary spends a lot of time talking about his “common man” style of dancing. Where Fred Astaire may have made dancing look effortless, Kelly’s physical style showed the athleticism of dance.

I didn’t know that On the Town, the musical Kelly performed with Frank Sinatra, Vera-Ellen, Betty Garrett, and Ann Miller was the first musical to be shot on location (New York City, to be exact). It’s very common now, but apparently before Kelly and co-director Stanley Donen insisted, going on site to film a dance sequence wasn’t considered by studio moguls.

The show also had lots of tidbits about my favorite, Singin’ in the Rain. I didn’t know that Kelly had to change suits during the iconic rain sequence because the first one shrunk up after getting wet. And it never occurred to me that all that water pouring on his head would affect the ability of the neighborhoods surrounding the studio to water their lawns!

I was enchanted by the insights into his personal life. Kelly was a good athlete and apparently very competitive. He had to drop out of filming Easter Parade, a role he recommended that Fred Astaire fill, because he broke his ankle after stamping his foot in frustration over a volleyball game!

The DVD is only a little over an hour long. But there’s a lot of information and entertainment packed into the show.

Check the WRL catalog for Gene Kelly: Anatomy of a Dancer.

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Have you ever wondered how your ancestors made soap?  Have you particularly wondered how they made soap without the internet?  When they were stuck they couldn’t have a quick look at eHow or one of the many handy YouTube videos on soap-making.  Of course, most of the time the necessary skills would be handed down from parents to children, but not every parent would be available, willing, or able to pass on the needed skills.

This is when they could turn to a book like Dick’s Encyclopedia of Practical Receipts and Processes, or How They Did it in the 1870s.  Receipt is an archaic word for “recipe,” so this is basically a book of recipes, but not recipes for food, although it does include pickles and alcoholic drinks from cider to liqueurs.  Receipt 551 is titled “To Make Home-made Soap.”  It is a short paragraph that refers back to Receipt 550 for lye:  ”Fill an iron kettle two-thirds full of the concentrated lye prepared according to the last receipt.”  Then the receipt for lye refers back again to the receipts for making straw and slaked lime.  Concentrated lye is made out of ashes, which doesn’t sound very ominous, but lye itself is very caustic and can cause burns.  A lot a caution should be used for many of these recipes.

One thing I learned from  Dick’s Encyclopedia is how hard our ancestors had to work, just for everyday life, and particularly in the domestic sphere!  I own an antique gramophone with a large brass trumpet.  Every now and then (not nearly often enough) I buy copper polish from the supermarket and  I unscrew the trumpet from the base, spread out newspapers and spend a few hours polishing it.  Dick’s Encyclopedia of Practical Receipts and Processes has a section on copper, starting with the properties of the metal and going on to how to separate copper from various other metals like lead and zinc (not something I will try at home!) and finally Receipt 3252 “How the Clean Coppers and Tins.” The instructions call for pulverizing your own ‘rotten’ stone, and mixing it with turpentine and soft soap (that you undoubtedly made previously yourself).  Nowadays, I don’t have to consider pulverizing my own stone.  And I can put 10,000 songs on an iPod and not even have to wind the gramophone!

So perhaps I won’t really make my own soap or brass cleaner since I can so easily and cheaply get them from the supermarket, but Dick’s Encyclopedia also has sections on artistic pursuits.  There are sections on marbling books and photography, including how to make your own photographic paper, glass and chemicals.

Dick’s Encyclopedia of Practical Receipts and Processes, or How They Did it in the 1870s is a fascinating glimpse of how things were done almost one and half centuries ago.  It is fun to browse through to get an idea of how hard our ancestors worked for everyday life, or possibly even a cautious use of some of the receipts.

Check the WRL catalog for Dick’s Encyclopedia of Practical Receipts and Processes

 

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Girl in Hyacinth Blue traces the history of a fictional lost Vermeer painting back in time to the moment of its creation through a collection of eight short stories that come together to form a cohesive novel.  Each story can be read and appreciated on its own, but when taken all together, they create something greater than the sum of their parts.

The story opens as a new art teacher at a private school is invited to the home of a  reclusive colleague.  This colleague, Cornelius Engelbrecht, shows him the painting, in the desperate hope of finding a kindred spirit who can appreciate the painting and recognize its true origin.  But when asked why he has not made the painting known to the world, we quickly find out that Cornelius is paralyzed by the truth of how his father, a German soldier in World War II, came to own it.  If he admits to the world that it is a Vermeer and attempts to auction it or donate it to a museum, questions of provenance will no doubt be raised, and the truth of his father’s role in the German occupation of the Netherlands will also become public knowledge. Tragically, the painting and Cornelius’ enjoyment of it have been tainted irreparably by his father’s crimes.

 The one thing he craved, to be believed, struck at odds with the thing he most feared, to be linked by blood with his century’s supreme cruelty.”

The story then moves further back in time to its previous owners: a Jewish family living in Amsterdam during World War II, a Dutch merchant at the turn of the century, a farmer’s wife, a student, and, finally, the Girl herself – the inspiration for the painting.

The author lovingly describes the painting in such detail that you almost forget it is a fictional painting, invented by the writer. You almost begin to believe yourself that this story could be about a lost Vermeer. Each character sees something different in the painting, be it potential justification and vindication for a life poorly spent, a kindred spirit, a remembrance of first love, or unfulfilled hopes and dreams, and each focuses their devotion on a different aspect, whether it’s the subject matter, the light, the setting, or the painter’s skill. At the same time, the stories are all connected by a collective affection, even adoration, for the painting.

As a reader, you begin each story knowing ultimately how it will end, but even knowing this, it is a testament to the author’s skill that you still feel compelled to read on to learn how that person obtained the painting.  Through the vehicle of the painting’s mysterious history, Vreeland explores the small, but poignantly significant moments in people’s lives.

Girl in Hyacinth Blue is a delicate, beautifully written novel that is also available as an audiobook and as a 2003 Hallmark movie starring Glenn Close, entitled Brush With Fate.

Check the WRL catalog for Girl in Hyacinth Blue

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Psychologists call it “family of origin“.  Really, they’re the people on whom you imprinted: those who gave you your adult world view or against whom you rebelled.  But if you believe there’s such a thing as a “happy family“, you were born in a test tube and raised in a cave by wolves.  Some families are less weird than others, that’s all.

Setting aside all physically abusive families, the Fang family is perhaps the weirdest one I’ve ever read about.  Caleb and Camille are artists, MacArthur Geniuses, grant winners, gallery darlings.  Their medium? Human confusion and anger.  Their canvas–any place they can set people against one another or cause distress.  Like Sasha Baron-Cohen, they find the outer limit of what people will tolerate, then push them past it.  Unfortunately, they decide to use their children to create the chaos they engender.

Annie and Buster, or “Child A” and “Child B” as they were known in the art world, are now grown.  Annie is a successful actor on the verge of her breakthrough into Oscar contention when a director calls for an unexpected topless scene.  Annie’s response puts her on the Web and into the tabloids, and her response to that causes her to flee Hollywood.  Buster is an unsuccessful novelist working as a freelance writer.  When he’s severely injured in the course of writing an article, he reverts to a Fang-style escape and runs for cover.  Both wind up at their parents’ home, the one place they swore they’d never return.  But.

Well, Camille and Caleb have a project on their calendar, so they take off to the big city.  And on the way they…disappear.  Their bloodstained car is found at a rest area, but no sign of them.  Bitter and suspicious, Annie spots it as another panic-inducing art piece.  Buster wavers between Annie’s view and believing that Camille and Caleb are dead,  Together, brother and sister grope their way through the following days, uncertain how to continue their own lives.

Interspersed in the current-day stories are titled pieces from the Fang family’s career, giving the reader a picture of their methods and results.  The projects become stranger the deeper the story goes, and as A and B become more integral to the work, the projects become more manipulative of them, to the point that Caleb and Camille become passive bystanders in the situations they force the children into.  With each revelation, Annie’s fierce independence and Buster’s uncertainty become more understandable.

Kevin Wilson is scarily creative when it comes to envisioning the Fang art, perhaps even more so in developing his storyline.  He also raises a lot of questions that make excellent fodder for contemplation and discussion.  What is Art?  What is an Artist?  What is a family?  What is child abuse?  At what point can a person be described as “grown up”?  So much packed into a beautifully written, imaginative book that it’s no wonder it made so many “Best Book of the Year” lists.

Check the WRL catalog for The Family Fang

Also coming soon as a Gab Bag for reading groups

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The time has come to forever mark New York’s grief and loss from the September 11 terrorist attacks.  5000 blind submissions, all trace of the artist’s identity removed, have been sorted through by a jury of political appointees, academics, artists, and a representative of the families.  The field is winnowed down to two entries – one, a ten-story high black boulder thrusting up from the ground, with the names of the dead engraved up and down its sides.  The other, a walled garden divided symmetrically by canals, with living trees interspersed with steel trees sculpted from Twin Towers’ beams, and the names of the dead inscribed on the walls.  After debate and lobbying, the jury selects the garden, which was designed by…

Mohammed Khan.

Or, as the governor’s representative says, “Jesus f—–g Christ!  It’s a g—–n Muslim!” (This is a family blog.)

The selection is supposed to be confidential, but it’s no time before second-rate reporter Alyssa Spiers gets her scoop on the front pages of the tabloid New York Post and all hell breaks loose.  Suddenly the memorial is the sole property of the understandably angry families.  Or a cause celebre for liberals rejecting knee-jerk hatred.  Or the target of right-wing rabblerousers who proclaim it only lacking 72 virgins to make it a complete Islamic paradise for victorious terrorists.  A chance for Muslim activists to reach a broader audience.  A headache for the committee chair.  A political liability.

A personal and professional triumph for its creator, who demands recognition for his achievement without any need to defend his heritage or his design.

Mo Khan considers himself a plain vanilla American—born to non-religious parents who immigrated from India, raised in Alexandria, Virginia, trained as an architect, promoted for his skill.  No different from any other ambitious single-minded young man.  Now he finds himself treated as a stranger in his own country, interrogated by the FBI on his first post-9/11 flight, his career derailed, and now his breakthrough achievement threatened.  Mo now draws the line at sacrificing his vision, and the irresistible force of public opinion meets the immovable force of a proud man.

Amy Waldman does a terrific job exploring the needs and sensitivities of all the people with a personal stake in this controversy.  Some are confused, unable to distinguish between their sorrow and their anger.  Others are struggling with the balance between doing what is right and doing what is realistic.  Still others cannot see a reason for the collective emotions, insisting on keeping the memory of their own loved one independent of the memorial’s politics.

If the premise of The Submission sounds familiar, you may remember Maya Lin’s controversial design for the Vietnam Memorial in Washington.  You may remember the hoo-hah over the Park51 project. (Waldman’s work on the book preceded that episode, and could even have been the blueprint for how it played out.)  You may even know that the real memorial is not without controversy.  As Waldman shows in a very effective epilogue, Americans tend not to hold grudges, even when our social progress is made in fits and starts.   If only there was a way to speed up the process.

Check the WRL catalog for The Submission

The Submission is also available as a Gab Bag.

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When Charlotte suggested to me that I might enjoy the book she had just blogged about, Tim Powers’s Hide Me Among the Graves, I was all the more ready to take up a fantasy/historical novel about the Rossettis and their circle having just finished Fiona McCarthy’s superb biography of Edward Burne-Jones.

I have long been a fan of the Pre-Raphaelite painters, particularly Dante Gabriel Rossetti, John Everett Millais, and Edward Burne-Jones. McCarthy’s biography opened a window on the lives, loves, families, and friendships of these men and the other painters and poets who surrounded them. I enjoy reading about makers—those people whose creative drive impels them to make art or music. McCarthy does an excellent job of capturing the compulsion to draw and paint that was at the heart of Burne-Jones’s life.

There is sometimes a temptation to look at artists (of any sort, musicians, painters, composers, etc.) as living in some ethereal world outside the cares of daily life. What McCarthy does so well in this biography is to show how Burne-Jones’s art was centered in, and in many ways tied to, his personal life. The concerns of family, money, and relationships all had their effect on Burne-Jones’s artistic life. You really cannot separate out the mundane from the creative here, and ignoring one for the other leads to a lopsided perspective on his work.

Even if you are not familiar with or a particular fan of Pre-Raphaelite art works, you will find the characters here compelling. McCarthy has an obvious affection for the painters and poets about whom she writes. But at the same time, she does not hesitate to show them as fully human, gifted perhaps with an ability to see things in new and intriguing ways, but each having their own frailties and imperfections. In addition, McCarthy does an admirable job capturing the zeitgeist of the late-19th century in England. The book can serve equally well as a social history. The Last Pre-Raphaelite is truly the portrait of the artist as a complete man.

Check the WRL catalog for The Last Pre-Raphaelite

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I would like to make you all love Stephen Sondheim as much as I do.

I admit bias. I’m working on my third Sondheim role in three years since returning to the stage. He wrote half the shows I’ve done, and I rarely pass on a production of one of his works. I’ve done Company, Merrily We Roll Along, and now Follies, and Sweeney Todd, A Little Night Music, Assassins, Sunday in the Park with George, Road Show, and Into the Woods are all high on my bucket list of shows I’d love to try. Even people who aren’t theater fans recognize iconic shows like West Side Story and Gypsy, for which Sondheim wrote the lyrics.

But musical theater isn’t everyone’s thing, and even for fans, Sondheim takes work to enjoy: the books for his shows are often dark or satirical without the pat happy endings that many associate with the genre. While his music and lyrics are catchy, he also loves dissonance and uses big words liberally. Performing his music can be a love/hate proposition: Sondheim tests your ear, memory, breathing apparatus, and the muscles of your tongue and jaw to the maximum degree. Performers are warned off auditioning with Sondheim for other shows because the music is notoriously difficult to play, with tricky accompaniments and frequent changes in key and time signature.

Still, it’s hard to find a musical theater afficianado (at least one under 50) who wouldn’t put Sondheim atop the canon. His shows are revived more often than any contemporary and his songs frequently cobbled into new revues. Why?

There’s depth in his work that rewards years of listening, that leaves one finding new pleasures in even the smallest songs, appreciating another level of wordplay in a line that one has heard again and again. His rhymes are perfect and more often than not surprising. Lyrics are stuffed with internal rhymes, clever puns, and interesting ideas, but if one can stay in tempo, they come gracefully off the tongue, always well-matched (or cleverly undermined) by the underlying tune. And Sondheim’s subject matter is much more diverse than the variations on boy-meets-girl that dominate most of the genre.

Which brings me to Sondheim’s lyric collection Finishing the Hat, which collects lyrics from the first half of his career (everything I say here applies equally well to Look I Made a Hat, the second volume which covers work from 1981 to date). These two books are many things: a sort of memoir, a history of modern musical theater, a treatise on the art of songwriting, and a delightful collection of poetry all wrapped up in one package.

This is dense reading that contains not only all the lyrics (including those for numbers that were cut), but his honest opinion about his successes and failures, facsimiles of early drafts of his work, behind-the-scenes production pictures, and perhaps most interesting of all, his notes on each show and his thoughts about other composers and lyricists (those who have died; he assiduously avoids the subject of his living contemporaries).

Unless you’re a huge fan, don’t read this treasure chest from cover to cover. Read the introduction and the lead-in notes to each show, but after that, sample. Just as many re-read Shakespeare before attending a play, you might preview the lyrics of a Sondheim show to help you catch more nuances during the actual performance. Browse through favorite shows or numbers, preferably as you listen to a cast album or watch the film of a production that you checked out on the same library visit. Enjoy the pictures, and watch for sidebars, where Sondheim often has very pointed things to say.

Check the WRL catalog for Finishing the Hat: Collected Lyrics (1954-1981) with Attendant Comments, Principles, Heresies, Grudges, Whines and Anecdotes

Or try Look I Made a Hat: Collected Lyrics (1981-2011)

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When John Lithgow collects another acting award—a frequent occurence for a man who has won the Tony, the Golden Globe, and the Emmy among other trophies—he always gets a little more applause than the other winners. Perhaps the fond regard of his fellow actors is the highest award of all for Lithgow. It made the publication of his memoir of special interest to this reader.

Drama: An Actor’s Education is exactly what the title implies, a look at all of the events that brought Lithgow to his current status in the profession. As such, it’s more focused than most actor biographies, concentrating more on his youth and development as a stage actor and less on his most famous later roles on television and film. What it lacks in gossipy tales of contact with inflated egos (the one time Lithgow takes a colleague to task, he withholds the name), it more than makes up for with frank, often humble accounts of the many pitfalls he negotiated in his rise to stardom.

Central to the story is Lithgow’s complicated relationship with his father, an actor and theatrical producer of some skill whose star never rose beyond the regional theater. Young John struggled to escape his father’s shadow and find his approval. Later, he had to cope with the awkwardness that comes when child eclipses parent.

Lithgow is especially good at conveying how, in his youth, he was entranced by the lure of the theatre. He’s refreshingly honest about his mistakes as well, particularly in admitting to foolish affairs (most prominently with Liv Ullman) that led to the distruction of his first marriage. He’s generous in giving credit to all the people who helped make him what he is as an actor.

Because Lithgow has played a great variety of roles on stage and screen, worked at every level from playing humble parts to starring and also directing, his perspective is broad and well-informed. Whether you are interested in this particular actor, the art and process of acting in theater and film, or just the experience of a person trying to learn a skill and succeed, I think you’ll enjoy his book.

Check the WRL catalog for Drama: An Actor’s Education

Or try the book on audio CD, as read by Lithgow himself

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Would you believe that a handful of artistic and scientific geniuses have actually turned their backs on traditional science and math careers to spend the majority of their time folding paper in super-advanced forms of Origami?

“What are the limits, the physical limits of this artform?”

I was once fascinated by artists such as Paul Gauguin, who shed his respectable life (including his wife and children) and escaped to exotic Tahiti to paint with wild abandon. This documentary includes interviews with various scientific wizards from around the world who have abandoned their ordinary lives and even lucrative jobs to pursue their Origami passions to an extreme.

They’re using their amazing brains to meld science, math, music, and engineering with art, advancing Origami theory further than ever dreamed, beyond Origami pioneers such as the great Akira Yoshizawa (1911-2005), who is credited with moving traditional Origami into its more sculptural era using wet-folding. He also designed the step-by-step notational diagramming system so common in the instruction books used today. This made it possible for nearly anyone, even without natural artistic ability, to create beautiful and adorably cute objects out of Origami paper. Utilizing the compilation of previous knowledge, Origami scholars are using complex mathematical algorithms that elevate art to scientific awesomeness and seeking ways that Origami can significantly contribute practical solutions such as in curing diseases. When thinking of Alzheimer’s, for example, may we someday be able to unfold or refold our lost memories?

Do not watch this DVD with the expectation that you will learn how to make some cool new Origami creations. This movie will just awe you with such unbelievable designs in Origami that only its top geniuses can master. Many of their works took hours, even hundreds of hours, to design, fold, and sculpt into phenomenal art!

“Any square paper can be folded into any shape!”

Between the Folds is a visual feast, well worth your time. I was most awed by Chris Palmer’s gorgeous folded-paper interpretations of light patterns and movement inspired by the Alhambra in Granada, Spain. There are some very interesting, short interview excerpts (“outtakes”) in the special features that provide additional detail on a number of subjects briefly featured in the film. Some of the interviews allow some delightfully quirky personalities to shine and may elicit a few giggles. My teens and I were mesmerized by this video; they wanted to shuck their homework and get out the box of folding papers, but I reminded them that the geniuses in this film got their degrees first and then they advanced the art of Origami! I did concede that there were examples of students whose math and science skills improved through the use of Origami in the classroom.

Check the WRL catalog for Between the Folds.

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To paraphrase my wife, the definition of a farce is a play with lots of doors to slam. The conceit of Michael Frayn’s classic Noises Off is such that the set not only has to have lots of doors, on two stories, but the action has to rotate between acts so that the audience can see the doors as if they were both in front of the stage, and later, backstage.

Frayn, an English playwright, comes from unusual beginnings. His father was a deaf man who worked in asbestos. His mother was a promising violinist who gave up her career to help make ends meet, then died when Frayn was only 12. Perhaps it was these difficult beginnings that attuned Frayn to the bittersweet qualities of life that he captures in his plays and novels. He works in many genres—his next-best known work is Copenhagen, a play about a meeting between famous physicists—but in Noises Off, he creates what is perhaps the craziest farce ever put on the stage.

As the show begins, some veteran but somewhat hapless actors are rehearsing a farce for an overbearing and oversexed director. The cast includes a forgetful actress of late middle age, a self-doubting actor who gets nosebleeds at even the threat of violence, another actor who stutters when he gets worked up, a cheerful aging alcoholic, and a sexpot who continually loses her contact lenses. A couple of overworked stage managers (who also understudy the parts in the show) try to take care of this difficult crew, both onstage and off, where a couple of love triangles guarantee that no moment is ever dull.

In the first act, the audience sees the show from the front, as it is rehearsed on the night before it opens. It’s clear that things are not going smoothly, but then that’s the theatre isn’t it? Things remain a little ragged until the lights go up, and then hopefully, it all comes together. Still, this particular production is obviously in trouble, with dropped lines, missed cues, and confusing props creating difficulty.

The second act is set a month into the run of the show. Here we discover that things have not come together; in fact they’ve continued to unravel as romantic entanglements, rivalries, and drinking problems have blossomed into backstage chaos. We witness the second act from backstage, but still hear what is happening onstage in a muddled performance.

The third and final act again puts us in front of the curtain. The show is nearly over now, after a ten-week tour, and the wheels have come off completely. Understudies are filling in (and then replaced again) by pouting actors. Rivals are trying to bludgeon each other on stage. Scenery and props are breaking and alcohol is pouring freely.

The wonder here is how Frayn continually manages to heighten the scale of the theatrical disaster. When you think it can’t get any worse, it does, and yet somehow, the show still goes on. It’s a show that require impeccable comic timing and physical skill for multiple pratfalls. It’s a farce within a farce.

Noises Off is entertaining to read and imagine, but even better to see. If you’re here in Williamsburg, you’ll get a chance this coming April when it will be staged at Williamsburg Players. Absent that, you may have to settle for the 1992 film, which although it features Carol Burnett and Michael Caine, is not entirely successful at capturing the genius of the stage production.

If you read it, you’ll get the added benefit of seeing some of Frayn’s other early works. Noises Off is included in a book of his plays with Alphabetical Order, Donkeys’ Years, Clouds, and Make and Break.

Check the WRL catalog for Michael Frayn: Plays 1

Or try the 1992 film of Noises Off

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Character is at the center of all of Michael Malone’s books, and his academic novel Foolscap is no exception. Theo Ryan, son of semi-famous singers, teaches English (what is it about English departments that attract the attention of fiction writers?) at a small college in North Carolina. Here, a fascinating cast of characters surrounds him, including a Marxist English professor who insists on having a pool in his university-supplied house.

As so often happens in a Malone story, Theo leads a fairly normal existence until his life takes a sharp turn when he meets Joshua “Ford” Rexford, a hard drinking, womanizing, Pulitzer-winning playwright. Theo is working on Rexford’s biography, and trying to keep Rexford alive despite his propensity for alcohol and fast driving. But Rexford betrays Theo’s trust, fleeing from North Carolina to England with one of Theo’s graduate students and the only copy of a play that Theo has written. Theo breaks out of his staid existence as he pursues Rexford, gets his play back, and achieves a reconciliation of sorts with the playwright.

Theo’s play, written as if by Sir Walter Raleigh near the time of his execution, raises fascinating questions about the artistic voice. What does an artist do if his inner vision compels him to work in an earlier style? Can a contemporary painter use the techniques and narrative tools of the Old Masters in the 21st century without being dismissed as derivative or a slavish copier? Malone excels at the picaresque, and Theo’s adventures in forgery, negotiating with publishers, and tracking down the errant playwright all bring both laughter and tears. But it is this blend of humor and deeper questions about what it means to be a creative artist that gives Foolscap its enduring grace.

Check the WRL catalog for Foolscap

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Peter Filichia uses a simple conceit to tell the story of Broadway over the last 50 years, examining two musicals from each year, the show that was the biggest hit, and the season’s biggest flop.

I loved this book for all of the stories behind the story, the sure things that misfire and the little shows that turn into monster hits. Filichia’s accounts are full of entertaining anecdotes about changes in personnel, songs that are cut or added, rising stars and difficult divas, and feuding directors and writers. There are clever stories about all of your favorite Broadway stars, directors, composers, lyricists, and producers. Filichia often compares musicals to the books, plays, or real life events from which they were derived. He presents funny catalogs of the mistakes that lead to the big flops. I found out plenty of fascinating details about shows that I thought I already knew well.

Beyond describing the individual shows, Filichia’s book shows the trends that have changed Broadway over the years, such as the rising importance of revivals, ever-increasing budgets, the growth of Disney and jukebox musicals, decreasing sales for cast albums, the emergence of darker material in musical formats, and more. When you’re finished, you’ll have a good understanding of all the forces that have made Broadway into what it is today.

Check the WRL catalog for Broadway Musicals: The Biggest Hit and the Biggest Flop of the Season, 1959 to 2009

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For most of my working hours, I catalog children’s non-fiction books. I get to see books that teach a little about a subject in clear, easy language, often illustrated with lots of pictures. One of these books was And Picasso Painted Guernica, written by Alain Serres and translated from the French by Rosalind Price.

Serres tells the story of Guernica by first offering a brief biography of Picasso. He adds historical details—Edison invented the light bulb the year Pablo Picasso was born, a Zeppelin flies over Switzerland when Picasso is nineteen—to help readers understand the times. Early drawings and paintings of Picasso’s, reproduced beautifully, show his development. His early works, including doves he drew when he was eight, and portraits of his parents he painted as a teen, are remarkably life-like.

When Picasso was a young artist living in Paris, he and fellow artist George Braque turned away from creating life-like reproductions and developed a style of painting eventually called Cubism. “They painted people and objects from many different viewpoints, as if they could see every surface at the same time.” Serres shows examples of Picasso’s colorful cubism on pages with bright colored background.

But then the war comes. General Franco and a section of the Spanish army launch a coup d’etat. The civil war has begun. The pages are now black, white and grey, just as Guernica is black, white and grey, reflecting the horror of the time.

This is an oversized book. Guernica is an oversized painting. The size of Picasso’s masterpiece—eleven feet tall by 25 ½ feet wide—makes it more effective than if it were on a smaller canvas. The size of this book, likewise, makes the book more effective.  There is a reproduction of Guernica as a fold-out, allowing the reader to examine the details close-up. Serres asks questions of the reader. “How to make an image more powerful than the blast of 50 tonnes of bombs? How to make it live on, long after the dust and debris has [sic] settled? How to make it linger in the mind’s eye, even when people have stopped looking?” He shows sketches Picasso tried before committing them to the canvas. He focuses on details. “Picasso throws back the mother’s head, and her child’s. He shatters the familiar image of Virgin and Child. Shows the world upside-down, like the child who dies before it can live, like the rain of steel that dreadful day. Like those eyes, those nostrils, made of tears. Like the mouth of the child that makes no sound, and the mother’s that cries out, that screams….”

After a thorough examination of the painting, enhanced with photos taken by a friend of Picasso’s while he was working, the pages again become brightly colored. Life goes on. “After 35 days and many nights of dedicated work on Guernica, Picasso puts away his pots of black, white and grey. Colour reappears in his paintings. … In life, death always brings transformation.” Serres shows paintings, sculptures and other art forms—some very light-hearted—created later in Picasso’s life.

This is a powerful book about a powerful painting and a magnificent artist. It doesn’t take long to read, but you’ll want to examine the sketches and the details. You’ll want to feel the questions Serres asks to understand better how Picasso created his most famous work. This book may be shelved in the children’s department, but adults will be affected by it as much as, or even perhaps more than, children will be.

Check the WRL catalog for And Picasso Painted Guernica.

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