“You look better in a barn than most girls look in a Chanel gown.”
The “star” system for grading performances feels woefully inadequate. What exactly does it mean when something gets “Four Stars”? Doesn’t it mean two entirely different things when a critic gives 4 stars to two entirely different films like, for example, Bridesmaids and The Artist?
It’s bad enough that we’ve “progressed” from letters to emails to texts to 140-character tweets. But today, major media sources flirt with constraining critics to just five characters: * – *****. Well, here’s a new system: I’m going to give your performance a grade based purely on whether you successfully fill your seats. For arts organizations, isn’t that part of your test?
“As for love, no thanks.”
I recently saw the Samford University School of the Arts do a highly entertaining version of White Christmas. Let me tell you, the Samford folks don’t seem to do small. Last year, I saw their version of Thoroughly Modern Millie and was pretty impressed. They said Millie was “one of our largest productions in the last 10 years,” but this version of White Christmas was an extravaganza.
According to the program, it was maybe forty performers, fifty-something listed members of the University Chorale, about twenty artistic staff, a thirty-something piece orchestra, and around a hundred production staff. Huge, stunning sets with multiple glittery and sparkly costume changes for the whole cast. (From my notes: “The clothes are good or even great.”) The show’s iconic snow was actual diamond dust, imported specially from Detroit. Birmingham’s tiny, struggling theatre companies can eat their hearts out.
“Breakfast all day and waffles all night.”
So how many people showed up to the (rather large at ~2500) Wright Fine Arts Center? Depends on how you count it. Opening night was sold out – so that would be a grade of 100% (or an A+). When the lights went down, my count was around 90-95% of actual people in non-balcony seats – so that’s still a solid A. After intermission, though, a notable chunk of people left. I’d say it filtered down to around 85% full after the break.
“There’s a little bit of larceny in all of us.”
I wouldn’t believe anybody left this show because they thought it sucked. College shows are a little different. A chunk of the audience is students. Most wouldn’t go to an on-campus musical unless 1) a friend or family member was in the show or 2) they’re getting extra credit. Once that friend is offstage or they’ve seen enough of the show to write a one-page report, they’re outtathere. I guess I could draw a conclusion about the show not being quite entertaining enough to keep students engaged, but then again, not everyone likes musical extravaganzas.
“Love and the weather can’t be depended upon.”
Why is this a good way to judge a performance or an organization?
- Arts groups shouldn’t work their tails off only to give subtle, beautiful performances that no one sees. The audience is half of the equation; trees that fall in the forest make no sound. You want people to show up because you believe in it, right? If your show stinks, no one will come – so attendance is a fair reflection of how good your product is.
- Attendance is also a good reflection of your last few shows. If you’re consistently entertaining, ticket buyers will trust you and come see whatever you’re doing currently. It works in reverse, too. It’s a relationship, baby.
- I’ve worked in restaurants; I recognize that attendance fluctuates randomly. So I might just be taking a snapshot of an off-night. This is why the mission is always: sell out the venue. If you’re shooting for half-full, then some nights you’ll get a quarter full – and that’s no fun for your audience or anybody else. Also, the quality of live performances fluctuates night-to-night, so that’s no excuse.
- I guarantee that David Bowie must have created otherworldly performances for sleepy, quarter-full clubs before he was David Bowie. Still, this method would be a fair snapshot of how well he was doing in, let’s say, 1967. And some shows sell out, but totally suck. That’s the critic’s job: to recommend that more or fewer people should be seeing any particular show.
- Administration must pick the right venue for the job. A positive for this measurement is that it grades the people behind the scenes. I understand that Samford has a bigger production and advertising budget than places like Theatre Downtown. The ASO has more money than the Magic City Choral Society. No matter, the mission is always the same: sell out the venue.
“Falling out of love can be falling in love again.”
Which is why Samford’s White Christmas gets high marks. It wasn’t challenging or unsettling in the slightest, but I smiled pretty much the whole time. There’s a clean, unironic Miss America-ness to having such reputationally wholesome kids perform a wholesome musical set around our most wholesome war and the most wholesome of holidays. You’d have to be a grump not to appreciate this level of earnestness – or to leave at intermission.
“That oughta sweeten your pancakes.”
A couple of quick notes. I’ve now seen two different musicals at Samford where the dance was notably terrific. If I knew who else to compliment as most responsible, other than Choreographer Roger van Fleteren, I would. Since the dancers are students – not professionals – it’s obvious that they have a wide range of talent and skill. It’s a gift to find the right combination of Goldilocks choreography that isn’t too basic for the advanced, isn’t too hard for the amateurs, uses the students’ natural enthusiasm, and looks great for the crowd.
“I think we could turn that guy into an opera.”
Lastly, oh please, either fix any technical issues with the microphones or stop using them. If a person auditioned that was otherwise a beautiful dancer, but had a trick knee that would make them fall over six or seven times during a performance, you couldn’t cast them. Then why do we insist on microphones that repeatedly fail – jarringly – in the middle of performances?
“If you had better legs and some personality, I’d marry you.”
Thank you very much to Lisa Gibbs and everyone associated with the Samford University School of the Arts. Check out the related article in the Samford Crimson.
“I’m a poetical virgin.”
I’ve gotten to know Daniel as my blogger, e-mail/pen-pal friend. Though we’d only met once before and we’d never actually hung out in real life, he asked me to the
I’m wearing a very ballet-appropriate dress and Daniel is just short of a tie. He’s excited, maybe a bit nervous, and clutching some sort of a notebook. I’d wondered whether he took notes at all the plays. I figured that surely he’s the kind of guy who makes careful notes at each performance. Surely he doesn’t write from pure memory.
No one fell apart at The Alabama Ballet’s Nutty Nutcracker. A parody of The Nutcracker, this performance poked some good ole wholesome family fun. Though it wasn’t exactly my kind of raunchy or limit-pushing (there were plenty of giddy children and senior citizens), I’ll admit to laughing when the mischievous Grinch (
One favorite part was “The Snowy Forest” in Act I. The irresistible set has tall winter trees and a sky of twinkling stars. Just as I started to fantasize about playing on stage after everyone left, they made it snow. The crew peppered and piled buckets of artificial snow on the dancers. I held my breath a little, hoping no one would slip and fall (they didn’t). Then came the “Snow Freaks” – a wild and unruly bunch of ballerinas dressed in bright, striped stockings, antler ears, and at least one tutu-tucked-in-underwear wedgie. They hopped all over the stage like naughty little fairy children. And for that, they were fabulous. The nutcracker even turned out to be Birmingham’s very own
All the Nutty aside, the actual ballet is entertaining and enjoyable. Daniel complains that the dancers just remind him that he’s getting old and fat. I feel the same way, but I’m dismissive, and try again to read his notes. Still chicken scratch. He points out his favorites, like Jennifer Ferrigno, and I find a favorite,