Burlesque in Boise, Part I: The Red Light Variety Show at Bouquet

Next Saturday evening, when you perchance are shuffling down Main Street, frustrated with your usual weekend routine, brooding about your unresolved Halloween costume idea and considering joining an East European circus instead of settling into a mind-numbing nine-to-five lifestyle, keep your eyes open for Mr. Maid Rite striking rhythms with his wash-board “device” and stilt walkers pointing out the newly reopened, recently remodeled Bouquet. These chic and kooky artists will direct you out of your bored doldrums and into an electrifying Red Light Variety Show. I was lucky enough to see a dress rehearsal and could not get enough of the irresistible performances. The show features fifteen performing artists—give or take—who put on a rousing theatre experience not to be missed.

Look forward to the phenomenal Minerva Jayne as M.C. for ferocious dance numbers from the Brass Knuckles Burlesque Troupe, Alejandro Anastasio’s music and monologues, reptilian dance styles from the Eclectica Dance Troup, and powerful shakes and delicate tiptoes from belly dancer Kristin Hill. Minerva will perform her stellar drag routine and Allison Holley will rival acrobats with her impressive pole dancing techniques. It will be a full night of black corsets, fishnet stockings, magnificent hula hoops, bright colors, bold stripes, jewels and feathery fans that carry the diameter of monster truck wheels. There will be red fabric draped throughout the Bouquet, from velour to drops to red curtains. Says Anne MacDonald from Brass Knuckles, “We’ll just have loads of fabric.” There will be classy swing tunes, umbrellas, trampolines and absurdist ballet that Edward Gorey might have conducted.

True, the Bouquet’s suspended liquor license prevents alcohol from being served at the Red Light show. But since the burlesque show is equitable to a dramatic event, the bar will be set up like a theater space. So come for imaginative performances, wild steps, creative music and uproarious laughter. If you need booze to get out of your dreary monotony, make sure to fill up beforehand. There is talk of a possible journey to a nearby bar, to be organized before the show.

Ticket proceeds for the Variety Show will benefit A.L.P.H.A. (Allies Linked for the Prevention of HIV and AIDS). After the phenomenal burlesque event ends and you dread a forever return to mind-numbing suburbia, you need not fear the same tedium for long. The Red Light Variety Show’s New Year’s party is in the works and already sounds spellbinding.

The Red Light Variety Show: Saturday, October 25, 9 PM @ Bouquet, $7

Rehearsal...

Antigone Recharged: The Burial At Thebes at Visual Arts Collective

With the subject of topical theatre still well in mind, the Alley Repertory Theater and their production of Seamus Heaney’s The Burial At Thebes is a sound example. Here is another new company, neck-deep in the second show of its first season. Alley Repertory Theater (ART) describes itself as “a professional, community-driven theater” whose explicit vision is “To be a flagship theater in the Treasure Valley, producing professional and relevant works that engage and entertain audiences, encourage lively dialogues and critical reflection on current events, and elevate community creativity and innovation through the ART of theater.”

ART’s strong mission and vision indicates a need for smart and significant theatre and intention to fill that need in Boise. By producing a contemporary translation of Sophocles’ already relevant Antigone, they are off to a good start. It is the story of a young woman (Antigone, played by Hollis Welsh) who defies her king to observe the law of the gods; it is the story of a leader too bent on protecting his kingdom and too dependent on his royal word (Creon, played by Arthur Glen Hughes); it is the story of that king being so secure in his wisdom that Fate must deal him fitting punishment for his hubris.

Seamus Heaney’s new translation of the Greek tragedy, The Burial At Thebes, was motivated in part by George W. Bush when the Nobel Laureate heard the United States President warn nations, “You’re either with us, or you’re against us.” The production, beyond being one that “encapsulates part of Alley Repertory Theater’s vision,” as Co-Artistic Director Buffie Main notes, is also the company’s first opportunity to bring in guest artists. ART was able to pool money for AEA (Actors’ Equity Association) actor Arthur Glen Hughes and guest director Traven Rice.

From a subtle red, white and blue color scheme in Burial scenic elements, to Creon waving to his chorus as a president would to his press conference, to the four chorus members as journalists armed with notepads, voice recorders and laptops, the Theban environment takes on a clear image of a dignified Oval Office. It is a place of formal and elegant celebration where appearance is everything, from the crisp suit jackets to an impressive black globe that could be a priceless family heirloom. And that is the place where tragedy strikes again and again, one after another, until the majesty spoils to pathetic gloom and blood.

Both Heaney’s translation and the performances promise definite accessibility to the Greek tragedy. Arthur Glen Hughes as Creon gives a healthy dose of charisma to a tyrant, making the king’s ferocious rants even more victorious by mesmerizing appeal. The journalist chorus was a slick source of unlikely wisdom, as was Jesse Bastian as a sweetly nervous guard forced to bear Creon bad news about the disobedient Antigone, an honorable character given a commanding performance by Hollis Welsh.

A noteworthy production, The Burial At Thebes is still playing through Saturday at Visual Arts Collective @ 3638 Osage, Garden City.

It's located in Garden City's new Alley Arts District, just off Chinden Boulevard, behind the Woman of Steel Gallery.

October 10, 11, 16, 17, 18 -- Plus a Special Performance Tuesday, October 14, 2008 - 3 weeks out from the Presidential Election.

Doors open at 7, show starts at 8 pm. $15 advanced tickets, $18 at the door.

TICKETS: Individual tickets: $18. Season tickets: $48, or $90 for two.

To order tickets: Please email your ticket request to alleyreptheater@clamcity.com or call them @ (208) 388-4ART [4278].

Peanuts, Live in 2-D: Dog Sees God at Boise State University SUB

Here we have the third production by Daisy’s Madhouse, a theater company that took shape just over a year ago.

Many of the company’s core members, including John Gibbons, Aimee Nell Smith and Jennifer Dunn, were key players in The New Heritage Theatre. After New Heritage shut down in 2007, they formed Daisy’s Madhouse, opening with Reefer Madness in September 2007. Psycho Beach Party was next in line, playing in June. The productions typically perform at Neurolux; Dog Sees God is no different; but also received this special showing at Boise State University, sponsored by The BSU Cultural Center.

Bert V. Royal’s Dog Sees God: Confessions of a Teenage Blockhead is an “unauthorized parody” of the Charles Shultz comic, which ages Charlie Brown and friends into adolescence. The Peanuts cast is thrust into a modern public high school environment and must chew on all the agonizing issues teenagers face. Snoopy dies; CB (Charlie Brown) copes with his grief by pursuing an unrequited attraction for outcast Beethoven (Schroeder); CB gets romantic advice from pothead Van (Linus) and Van’s Sister (Lucy), currently institutionalized for pyromania. The labels continue from there, dressed as CB’s Sister, Matt, Tricia, and Marcy (Sally, Pigpen, Peppermint Patty and Marcie, respectively).

Dog Sees God wants to be a charming account of everyday teenage life in the style of Stephen Chbosky’s The Perks of Being a Wallflower. It wants to win over its audience so honestly that each ticket holder will go on an immediate mission to empathetically hug five seventeen-year-old friends, as we might after a particularly poignant episode of Wonder Years. Instead, the production digs too far past dramatic circumstances and wades too long in issues, therapy and education. The evening compares better to an after school special or a church skit than a dramatic experience.

These days are loaded with rich, substantial material for artists, performers and writers. Internationally, front-page news’ headlines print daily titles about a global economic crisis, political radicals, suicide bombers, religious radicals, melting habitats, extinct species; worldwide war and terror and death and hatred abound. Artists have more to talk about everyday, a deeper plunge to take through the profane, a higher aim to reach toward the sacred. There is serious motivation to make theatre that strives to generate action in community or even create one performance that resonates so much with an individual that he will closer inspect his personal actions. In times so ripe for topical theatre, why choose a script that ignores this unique opportunity?

Everybody hurts. We have all toiled over awkwardness, teasing, guilt, judgment and more. For many, myself included, high school shoots this personal angst up to a tortured degree. Stereotypical issues cannot help us understand this explosion, however. These hyper-simplified techniques, like labeling, are only used to disassociate people from people by boxing their differences into thoughtless classification systems. After being categorized, the people can be dealt with easily—not as human beings, mind you, but problems to be solved.

Please do not mistake me: Dog Sees God does not openly support stereotypes, nor does Daisy’s Madhouse. After all, this special showing at BSU was sponsored for LGBT (Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transsexual) Diversity Week. On the other hand, it does stress teenage issues with unfair importance. I say unfair because underlining two-dimensional labels only covers up the real, deeper struggle that lasts long after high school graduation when maturing foresight adds complexity to the issues.

Living is hard in all cases. Adolescent turmoil can age into bitter frustration or worse. Hatred survives outside the false social construct of public high school. But why doe we care? It is how we live with and respond to the hurt that makes it interesting. Turmoil, bitterness, frustration and hatred are obviously not included in the highlights that keep us human beings going strong. We instead keep fighting for the more extraordinary things, for each other, for the unknown adventure, or even just to smell sweet air after a torrential downpour.

The mutual understanding of life’s hardships provides enormous potential in art—and theatre especially. This potential must be tapped. Drama is not rooted in issues, but reaches beyond those surface problems to a heightened conflict. Charles Shultz himself made his Peanuts gallery much smarter and more mature than the usual grade school crowd. Though Linus needed his blanket for security, if Charlie Brown needed a wise word, he could spin a philosophic tale without batting an eye for all his timely genius. Schroeder had a better grip on Beethoven’s sonatas than the classical anthologies where he read the notes. So why must a play featuring these characters ignore the kids’ brilliance and only endow them with generalities? None of Schultz’s characters are generic. Let the stage equivalent aim just as high as the comic strip.

As a new company, it is prime time for Daisy’s Madhouse to take a worthwhile risk and create topical theatre. It may be fun to “put silliness and laughter at High Tide,” as John Gibbons describes the pattern in their productions thus far. But why not insert a meatier reward as the target? This new company can push its pattern in a new direction, investing its artists’ talent and energies into much more significant work. Daisy’s Madhouse has the chance to challenge its audience with its dark comedies, making their already absurd subjects much more riotous, provocative and effective.

Basement Season: With Child, Cat Crap and Awesome Color at Area Code House

Basement shows (or house shows) are wonderful displays of community and truly independent rock. They transform old cellars into all-ages havens that celebrate definitively underground music. Local musicians, young bands and excited touring groups arrive at a house where they may expect little or no money in return, only the satisfaction of playing good sounds for people who really want it. Covers are rarely charged at the door, but expect to donate a dollar or five to help touring bands with expensive gas bills on their way to Portland, Seattle or Salt Lake City.

Though performance skill can certainly be hit or miss from one set to the next, suffering an occasional stifled groan is always worth the effort to support neighborhood art in action and learn the newest beat on the street. I find the trip particularly worthwhile when a band or musician with astonishing talent is booked for a North End basement: I imagine how in ten or twenty years, when the artist is internationally adored, I will boast about seeing him, her or them play at a friend’s house in my neighborhood. I will certainly relish those unique bragging rights if and when I get the chance, however selfish the perspective.

Autumn and spring are sweet seasons for basement shows. Temperatures are cool enough to seek comfy indoor weather, not too chilly to avoid leaving home and the school semester is a great excuse for a music break. Some breathtaking house show surprises have popped up recently in fall or spring (such as Paleo and Johanna Kunin). Be on the look out for crude promos on black-and-white coffee card flyers, for they may offer artistic gold.

With Child

One delightful quality about With Child is how frequently they go out of their way to encourage audience participation. Tonight, amongst high school students and equally insecure, bar-aged folk, Elijah (on classical Spanish guitar) immediately puts everyone on the same level by inviting us to stand closer to the band. The argument “I just think it would be really cool to feel your guys’ breath,” is too convincing to refuse, so we all shuffle up inches away from his and Andrew’s frets and feet.

Their experimental-grunge-folk sound has wild energy tonight, creating a fireplace and hot cocoa that sparks the dark basement in perfect timing for a drizzly night. Otis shoots a few clickity-clack-joyful-train beats into the initial measures, making the set decidedly beaming from that moment on. As always, their impressive lyrics are childlike in the best meaning of the word. Added reverb and rock helps With Child aim higher and deeper, so even embittered adults can appreciate their great wisdom. “Unbound and unbridled, eternally lightly moving along” and “No song of mine can change the world but it can surely change me” are two of my favorite With Child poetry tidbits. The lyrics are voracious and hungry for a better world. The band focuses their appetite with practical insight usually seen at playgrounds, not political demonstrations. With Child is the J.M. Barrie of contemporary music and the band’s potential for influence is just that strong.

Cat Crap

Unfortunately, Cat Crap’s musical value does not yet reach beyond the polluted substance that shares their name. This guitar and drums duo is heavily clad in a skull-patch-on-black-leather dress code, industrial distortion and ordinary repetition. As soon as the first few notes blare, the basement’s anger level already meters past red and Cat Crap slips blood lust into the crowd.

With songs like Teriyaki Butt Lady, this band is thirsty for violence with no cause to justify and leaves little space for humanity. Their hostile, primal screams may satisfy the younger Lost Boy Generation in Boise, all hunting for shocked reactions to their savage appearances bought with hard-earned allowance money. Though I can appreciate revolutions, cause-less rebellion is counter-intuitive. So I am just disappointed. Patience is a hard pursuit in a crowd that chooses nasty, unnecessary rowdiness when meaningful music is on the line.

Awesome Color

From Michigan, this three set of guitar, drums and base make their instrumentals thick and raw enough to get soothed by their guitarist’s deep, friendly vocals. Awesome Color sounds like a gentle giant taming a ferocious dragon into domestication. The crowd gets offered a blitzkrieg of riffs picked strong and heavy with an essential dose of sensitivity at the core and soon is done with needless violence for the night.

Bubbly feelings reborn in this crowded basement, the audience gratefully receives these three musicians who know their craft. In moments like this especially, I wonder about the house show artists’ futures. In early underground shows years and years ago, did certain audience imagine fame possible for The Cure, Sonic Youth or Joy Division in a similar fashion? Could Awesome Color have potential realized to that degree?

Whatever the answer, just the question is a nice bit of inspiration easily found at basement shows that keeps me returning every chance I get. Keep listening for the next house show; they are special events.

Tragedy: A Tragedy

Opening night in the theatre is always special. A thrill for actors, a rush for backstage technicians, it is the big night after an exhausting week of technical rehearsals. Just when all the production elements have barely come together, it is the exciting event where months of hard work can pay off in front of that first, eager audience.

The opening performance for Will Eno’s Tragedy: A Tragedy, directed by Ann Klautsch adds a unique honor to an already special night. Stage II, the Boise State Theatre Arts Department’s performance space, is renamed tonight.

It is now officially christened the Danny Peterson Theatre in memory of the great actor, friend and human being, one that Boise’s theatre community lost unexpectedly in July.

Richard Klautsch writes:

"Danny Peterson was one of the most loved and revered theatre artists throughout the entire state of Idaho.


He was a brilliant comedian, a character actor of the highest order, and a lifelong student of theatre.


He loved doing theatre more than anyone I have ever met…and no matter how we nickname the space (the “Peterson”, the “Danny P”, the “Danny”), our days in here will always be a little brighter knowing that his spirit, and our memory of him, will never fade."

The audience for this unique performance is primarily Danny’s friends, family and colleagues who can spend an evening remembering him in a theatre that now shares his name. It is an understatement to say that we will miss this inspirational actor and jovial person who helped start the Idaho Shakespeare Festival. Though naming a theatre after Danny P. cannot ease the blow for those who love him, celebrating his life this way might help us forever remember him for all the sweetness and artistry Danny Peterson stood for. And it may help us keep aiming for the same.

As for the performance itself, Tragedy: A Tragedy is in fact a hysterically absurd comedy, one where the sun has set for good and set for good. In this perpetual state of night, only the end of the world is in clear view. Even worse than this imminent apocalypse, we learn about it from a painfully verbose and scholarly news team who only use their immense vocabulary to effectively avoid reporting what is going on.

Will Eno offers a slick satire about how worthless multiple-syllabic words and problematic language can be. News-less news from media anchors and analysts is worse than futile; it does drastic harm when key information studiously gets turned into misinformation. Tragedy clips along in the spirit of a Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. short story as if Mel Brooks and Saturday Night Live also got to collaborate.

Boise State Theatre Arts’ production compares to a live action political cartoon, especially thanks to W.J. Langley scenic design that could have been pulled right off an New Yorker illustration or Peanuts comic strip. The performances fall right in that two-dimensional line, leaning toward stereotypical with over-the-top acting choices that help make the play a riot. Ann Klautsch’s Tragedy turns subversive politics into great fun, so we can exhaust ourselves laughing about how poorly this news team deals with corruption, a tyrannical governor and the end of days itself. Before we know it, the issues sink in deep and we are ready to take action. Seems like good theatre tactics to me.

Tragedy: A Tragedy is still running through next weekend at the Danny Peterson Theatre in the Morrison Center.

You can catch it October 8-11 at 7:30 pm and October 12 at 2:00 pm. Tickets are free for BSU students with ID, $15 General Admission and $12 for non-BSU students.