Live Performance

WHY? and Serengeti

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In the highly fickle and competitive world of music, bands that may be “great” individually but sound similar to other artists in their genre bracket, there’s a good change they get lost in the static. It is those musicians that straddle genre lines, blending influences to create a sound all their own, that are not only making themselves memorable, but becoming essential to staying relevant to listeners’ eclectic tastes.

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Double Header of Talent: Shaun B and Orlando Napier at Harvelle’s

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He is a thin, handsome man in a striped shirt and jeans, sipping on Stella Artois and bobbing to the music–and I realize it’s the second headliner of the night, Orlando Napier–and since we are standing inches from the speakers, I flip into a blank page of my notebook and write “Break a leg up there” and hold it up to him. He smiles and shakes my hand twice before hopping on stage, embracing a glistening-with-sweat Shaun B. who concludes his set with supercharged covers of Stevie Wonder and The Turtles’ “Happy Together.”

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Cirque-A-Palooza!

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This is the show that the performers would put on for each other. The juggler dropped his pancake (more on that later), the sword swallower even choked up just a little bit of the spaghetti from his dinner (I’ll leave that one alone). That said, even before the show started, I felt like I was in on the jokes, maybe even sitting in Stefan’s living room, dancing a little too wildly and drinking more than I should. So along with other performers, the audience and I cheered the successes, forgave foibles, and generally had a delightful time doing so.

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Ferrante brings back Groucho Marx

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Just then, the lights begin to dim as a loud voice comes on over the loudspeakers, the once-deafening shouts of a crowd in conversation with itself dying down as a spotlight follows impresario and tonight’s host Stefan Haves down the right side of the theater to the main stage. Mr. Haves is known for “frequently drawing on LA talent to re-invent physical theater, circus, and clowning — stubbornly breaking every artistic wall in a town whose theatrical conventions and filmic traditions often tend toward maintaining that stubborn ‘fourth wall’ [pasadenaplayhouse.org].”

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The Rainmaker: Who Cares if its Not Feminism—Its True

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With such an excellent cast, it’s easy to nitpick. The only off note comes from Robert Standley’s Starbuck. Starbuck is supposed to be a charming con man, but on Standley, the snake oil is a little too thick. Still in later love scenes, he embodies the hope and confidence of a true “confidence man”—one that is able to inspire the confidence of others.

The tale is a familiar one—resting on the idea that nobody can love you until you love yourself. But of course this internal struggle to believe in ones own beauty comes much easier when surrounded by people who already believe in it for you.

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A Man of MUCH Importance

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I’ll admit that I was swept away by the music but when I started to truly understand what was happening in the story, when Alfie clearly shows he is in love with Robby, things begin to really fall into place. With a bizarre but dutiful relationship between Alfie and his sister, Lily, the protector, anchor, and opinionated powerhouse; the friendship between Alfie and Robby that is seemingly innocent and true; the importance of the theatre to every character involved; societal persecution; the unfortunate backdrop of conservatism rearing it’s head to take the freedom and swell of joy right out of it – this was a play/musical that leaves you full of thought, a bit of sadness, and a reason to feel your voice needs to sound.

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Stone and Sadie

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Sarah’s voice drips out into the microphone like honey, sweetening the deliciously dark lyrics of “Kiss the Cuts (Disco No. 6 for Charles Bukowski) as Jazzmin, Andrew and Anders moved in sequence with the pulse. Once the clapping quiets, Sarah announces that “Kiss the Cuts” and the tongue-in-cheek song “I’m Nobody’s Baby (& You Ain’t Nobody’s Fool)” are available to purchase on their official “double”, of which I highly recommend. That way, their finger snapping and toe tapping tunes can follow you home in entirety, instead of just a catchy chorus looping in your head.

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The Ruby Cabaret

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As I breach the intersection where “blvd.” meets “way”, I notice an adjacent baseball field where middle school adolescents play a game next to fenced off basketball courts and children playing tag. It is memorable to me because the rays of sunlight peeking through the chain links surrounding the field cause me to raise a hand in order to see. But the sun soon goes down, and soon I no longer need to shield my eyes. Just in time, too – a crowd is beginning to form outside one of the Elephant Stage’s five doors I had mistaken for a restroom entrance earlier in the evening.

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