October 27th

 

Crossing Cultures
       Breathing new life into ancient instruments


By Brian Mackey

A trio of musicians played for a small but appreciative audience in the UIS Studio Theater last Saturday.  Flutists Mark Holland and Peter Phippen and percussionist N. Scott Robinson performed on dozens of instruments indigenous to five continents.

The concert began with the musicians creeping in from the back of the darkened theater to the sound of Robinson’s berimbau.  This Brazilian instrument consists of a single metal string stretched across a log bow.  The performer holds the bow in his left hand and taps the string with a stick.  Pressing the string with a stone, also held in the left hand, changes the berimbau’s pitch.

The musicians moved into the center of the room, surrounded on three sides by the audience.  Their instruments were spread across a large Oriental rug, and many were used for only one song (it seemed Holland had many more flutes than he used in the entire concert, but I cannot say for sure).

In the second number, Holland played a flute crafted from the horn of a bison.  Most instruments were not that unusual, but almost all of them were non-Western.

For one number, Phippen played a Hopi flute given to him by someone named Coyote Old Man, a replica based on a design dating back to 1200 A.D.  Phippen also made frequent use of a pre-World War II Japanese shakuhachi.

Holland used mostly Native American flutes.  They are usually are tuned to a single pentatonic key, able to produce two octaves of five notes each (Western instruments are usually based on 12-pitch octaves).  After the concert, Holland said he was drawn to these instruments in part because he wanted to flout the perception that they are musically limited.

While Holland and Phippen’s flutes were usually quiet and mellow, Robinson played with rhythmic intensity throughout the concert.

After the berimbau, Robinson turned to his bodhrán, a modified version of the traditional Irish drum.  Holding it vertically on his lap (picture a bass drum in a marching band), he produced a remarkable array of sounds ranging staccato taps, bass thuds, and long, resonant moans.

This was to be a recurring theme, as Robinson repeatedly tapped, slapped, pounded, stroked and kicked more timbres than seemed possible from a single instrument.

Seated upon a Peruvian cajon, a wooden box with metal snares lining one of its inside walls, Robinson was a one-man drum machine.  He used his empty right hand and held a wire brush in his left hand, occasionally altering the pitch of the instrument by sliding his right heel onto the surface of the box.  All this while keeping up a steady beat with a rattle attached to his left foot.

You might expect to hear that depth of sound from someone playing a drum set; Robinson was using a wooden box.

While the trio played aboriginal instruments, their music was definitely non-native.  Most of the concert would fit neatly into the “New Age” bin at a music store (Holland has recorded several CDs with his band Autumn’s Child, with titles like “Four Winds” and “Soundcolors” that fit predictably into the genre.)

Holland says he actually avoids authentic Native American music, saying that many traditional songs “are not to be used outside of the ceremonies they were intended for.”

It should be noted that the audio engineer did well, providing clean, clear reinforcement of the instruments’ delicate sounds.  There was a great deal of reverb added to the flutes, perhaps a bit much from time to time.  This kind of concert, however, is often difficult to mic well; the stagehand toiling anonymously behind the audio console deserves credit.

The highlight of the concert came near the end with a “free” piece of music.  The lights dimmed, bathing the performers in a pool of deep blue light.

With shakers, animal calls, whistles, drums, and vocalizations, the performers improvised off of each other’s loose rhythms and shifting melodies.  The trio had called for audience participation, but with the exception of a persistent young man in the second row, the invitation was declined.

The concert was arranged and underwritten by the Central Illinois Native American Flute Circle and its director Terry Travis, the UIS World Percussion Ensemble, and UIS Professor Sharon Graf.


An “Invisible Man” in the Auditorium
          
Well's work comes to life at Sangamon Auditorium on Sunday

By Gabrielle Wiegand

H.G.Wells, famous for his science fiction writings in the late 19th and early 20th century, published “The Invisible Man” in 1897.  Over one hundred years later, the Aquila Theater Company will bring his work to life onstage at Sangamon Auditorium. 

Wells’ works have been adapted for performance a great deal over the years.  Orson Welles’ radio broadcast of his “The War of the Worlds” was alarmingly realistic, which made many Americans panic when it was broadcasted.  “The Shape of Things to Come” which predicted World War II, “The Time Machine,” “The Island of Dr. Moreau,” and “The Invisible Man” have all been adapted for the big screen. 

“The Invisible Man” is set in Victorian England and tells of a young English scientist named Griffin, who is obsessed with the ideal of being invisible.  Griffin is determined to make himself invisible.  Unfortunately, problems accompany his invisibility and Griffin becomes further separated from society. 

“The Invisible Man” film adaptation was released in 1933 starring Claude Rains, as Griffin, and Gloria Stuart, who went on to be the elderly Rose in “Titanic.” 

According to the Aguila Theater Company website, “The Invisible Man” asks us “to consider what it means to be human and how fragile modern society can be.”  Wells “examines the very nature of existence and questions the achievements of scientific discovery in a beautifully written and ultimately tragic scientific adventure story that has enthralled generations of readers.”

The Aquila Theater Company was founded in 1991 by Peter Meineck, the producing artistic director, and has toured throughout Europe, the United States, and Canada.  The website says Aquila offers “fresh and inventive productions of classical drama without unnecessary textual compromise.”

 “The Invisible Man” will be at Sangamon Auditorium Sunday, October 31 at 7p.m.  Tickets range from $25 to $42.  For more information or to purchase tickets, contact the Sangamon Auditorium Box Office at 217.206.6160 or www.sangamonauditorium.org


Guard your vegetables and keep the garlic handy:
      Vampire bunny coming to Sangamon Auditorium

By Gabrielle Wiegand

Once upon a time there was a family called the Monroes who had very unusual pets.  Chester, the cat, can read.  The dog, Harold, writes mystery novels.  And their new pet bunny, Bunnicula, is a vampire.  Bunnicula sleeps all day, causing Chester to get suspicious.  Then the Monroes find all their vegetables have been drained of all juice.  Chester and Harold make it their mission to expose Bunnicula for what their fellow household pet really is.

Sound like a new upcoming horror film?  Not quite.  The tales of Bunnicula have been captured in a series of children’s books that have been musically adapted to the stage.

Friday, Oct. 22 there will be a performance of “Bunnicula” at 10 a.m. for Springfield area grade school students.  Not in grades two through five?  Do not worry; there will be a performance for the general public at 7 p.m.

In 1979, James Howe, along with wife Deborah, wrote the first Bunnicula book entitled “Bunnicula: A Rabbit-Tale of Mystery.” The book has won several children’s literature awards such as the Iowa Children’s Choice Award and the Nebraska Golden Sower Award.  It was adapted into a comedic musical play by Jon Klein with music by Chris Jeffries and lyrics by Klein. 

This tale of a vampire bunny was first produced by the Seattle Children’s Theater and will now be performed at the Sangamon Auditorium by the Omaha Theater Company for Young People as part of their nine month national tour.

According to their website, the Omaha Theater Company’s mission is “to enrich the lives of young people and their families through live theater and dance, and arts education.”  The Company produces a variety of shows for children.  Their 2004-2005 season will include “Pinocchio,” “Brave Irene,” “Seussical the Musical,” “The Berenstain Bears On Stage,” among other favorites. 

“Bunnicula” will be at Sangamon Auditorium Oct. 22 at 7 p.m.  Tickets range from $12 to $15 for adults and $8 to $11 for children.  It is recommended for children ages five and older.  For more information or to purchase tickets, contact the Sangamon Auditorium Box Office at 217.206.6160 or www.sangamonauditorium.org


Introspection on Indochina
‘The Fog of War’ looks retrospectively behind the curtain of war

By Brian Mackey

As Linda Grabel found out, getting a politician to admit mistakes is a difficult proposition.  Introspection is anathema in today’s macho political culture, tantamount to weakness.

President Bush’s reelection campaign has been based in part on the idea that he is resolute, but critics have blamed that same trait for an unwillingness to consider the possibility that some aspect of the invasion of Iraq — to say nothing of the invasion itself — may have been a mistake.

In the early 1960s, CBS News asked Robert McNamara, Secretary of Defense to Presidents Kennedy and Johnson, “What about the contention that your attitude is sometimes arrogant, that you never admit you were wrong.  Have you ever been wrong, sir?”

“Oh, yes indeed…I’m not going to tell you when I’ve been wrong…but on countless occasions,” McNamara replied.

This exchange, replayed in “The Fog of War,” exposes history’s penchant for repetition and tantalizes us with other parallels between then and now.

Director Errol Morris (“The Thin Blue Line”) based the film on 25 hours of interviews with McNamara, who has been at or near the center of some of the most pivotal, destructive events of the 20th century.

In World War II, he was a statistical control officer for a unit of the Army Air Corps under the command of General Curtis LeMay.  McNamara evaluated the bombing missions and found ways to make them more efficient, that is, more lethal.

On March 10, 1945, the unit bombed Tokyo, a wooden city, and “burned to death” 100,000 people.  McNamara says that had America lost World War II, he and LeMay probably would have been prosecuted as war criminals.

As Secretary of Defense, McNamara lived through the 13 days of the Cuban Missile Crisis and later presided over America’s doomed expedition in Vietnam.  By 1967, when McNamara resigned (or was fired, depending on whom you ask), 25,000 Americans had been killed.

But McNamara’s life was not all death and destruction.  He was also the first non-Ford family President of the Ford Motor Company.  The film includes an interesting story on the research that led to the introduction of seatbelts and padded dashboards, an innovation where McNamara and Ford were first in their industry.

With “The Fog of War,” Morris won the Academy Award for best documentary this year, and deservedly so.  He is among the most artful filmmakers working today.

Most other recent documentaries, while informative and entertaining in their own right, are not nearly as well produced.  The ubiquitous “Fahrenheit 9/11” pales in comparison, both as a mode of conveying information and especially as a work of art.

Through rarely seen archival footage and McNamara’s first-person commentary, Morris weaves an examination of a life that is also an exploration of modern war.  The interviews are among the most striking aspects of the film.  You get the feeling that McNamara is looking through the camera, directly at you.

Morris uses a device he calls the Interrotron, essentially a modified TelePrompTer that puts his face in front of the camera’s lens.  Interviewees make eye contact with him and the audience.  Morris called this “first person cinema” in the film’s press kit and it does feel more intimate than any other interview I have ever seen.

Make no mistake -- “The Fog of War” is not about the Bush administration.  In an appearance on Charlie Rose’s public television show last year, McNamara refused to criticize the current administration or the war in Iraq, just as he refused to criticize Johnson and Nixon in the 1960s.  It is tempting, however, to draw conclusions about current events from McNamara’s statements.

“We are the strongest nation in the world today.  I do not believe we should ever apply that economic, political, or military power unilaterally.”  He adds, “If we can’t persuade nations with comparable values of the merit of our cause, we’d better reexamine our reasoning.”

Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote, “All history becomes subjective; in other words, there is properly no history; only biography.”  Errol Morris has created a unique, insightful film that asks the audience, in McNamara’s own words, “to think more about killing.”


“The Fog of War” will be shown this Friday at 7:00 p.m. in Brookens Auditorium.  The screening is sponsored by the Division of Student Affairs through the Independent & Foreign Film Series; admission is free.  Running time: 107 minutes.  The film is rated PG-13 for images and thematic issues of war and destruction.

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