Went and saw this. Absolutely amazing. Robert Beltran was a perfect mix of Nathan Lane, Al Pacino (alla Carlito's Way) and Edward James Olmos in his theatrical narration.
Enjoyed the movie but LOVE this show. A lot of heart and so much fun. Not to be missed!
Boxing to bullfighting, there is nobility in most blood sports, not only because they are so elemental. One finds what he looks for; maybe vegetarians dislike bullfighting on moral grounds but meat eaters must be hypocrites. Just visit a slaughterhouse sometime.
Both bulls and toreros are truly brave. The bullfight is a beautiful example of how elegant bravery can be. Dog fighting, otoh, is just brutal.
I saw this play last night, Jan. 31, and was very impressed with the production. I recommend "Freud's Last Session" to anyone interested in thoughtful, forceful and evocative theater. Outstanding, in my book.
Who buys a book by that old con artist, Andrew Weil?
What a great review! It really shed some light on Rancho Linda Vista and its artists showing at The Drawing Studio.
Also happening this spring...Laurie Lewis, Tom Rozum, Nathan McEuen (John's kid), and former Tucsonan, Mark Robertson-Tessi, at the Vail Theatre of the Arts on March 23. Information, videos, and tickets at www.vtota.org.
LAVA Music has lined up an all-star season this spring, featuring 10 of the top-drawing acts from seasons past. The first show, featuring Minnesota bluegrass band, Monroe Crossing, sold out a few days before the show. Tickets are still available for the remaining nine shows. Information at www.lavamusic.org.
It's perhaps niggling to pick on this mostly positive review, but I feel that in at least one way the reviewer doesn't "get" Brecht, and that leads her to say the Rogue's is a "very respectable production," instead of the truly rich and revealing production I think it is. Her primary complaint is the lack of storytelling momentum, but in fact it is Brecht who breaks up his play as he does, specifically so that the audience does not become engrossed in it. Brecht likes the audience to never lose themselves in the play, but to always be aware of themselves, alienated, consumers. By problematizing every aspect of the play, including Mother Courage's love for her children, the Rogue accentuates the audience's role as independent thinkers, critical of the play and its characters, and of the ideas presented. The audience could not possibly be that if they were too caught up in the story. So, while I applaud the Rogue for the lack of "storytelling momentum," the person I really applaud for this is Brecht himself, and I am surprised the reviewer does not understand this basic tenet of Brechtian theater.
Despite such aversion to the audience giving itself up to the story or to the characters, Brecht is an entertainer, through music, and through social situations that reach us where we live. The Rogue's presentation is terrifically entertaining, from their lively acting, to the terrific original music, to the presentation of each scene's beginning as ensemble choral performance.
This is quite possibly the best theater I have ever seen in Tucson.
I’m sorry parts of my novel, Hard to Have Heroes left a bad taste in your mouth, but I do appreciate the few nice things you said about the book. Obviously, you and the Pima County Library System—which has just selected Hard to Have Heroes as one of the best books about the Southwest published in 2012—have wildly different tastes in literature.
When you said that Hard to Have Heroes is a novel with little literary merit, you may be right but I believe you totally missed the point of my endeavors. It wasn’t written as a dramatic literary masterpiece, but as a humorous piece of whimsical fiction designed to make a reader giggle a bit and sob a bit and perhaps be entertained in the process. Neither was it meant to contain a complex plot maze that twists and turns and terminates only when it bumps into itself. Instead, each chapter develops and encloses its own story—much like Mark Twain’s Tom Sawyer-- to be read merely for the amusement and information contained within.
As for my “crude rendering of Native Americans and Mexican Americans”, you obviously have no idea of what southern New Mexico was like in the mid-1950s. I was offering no judgments whatsoever, but merely describing the flagrant bigotry and racial stupidity that encompassed the region during that time. The editors at the University of New Mexico Press, one of the country’s most prestigious academic publishers, certainly didn’t think my “rendering” was crude, or the descriptions you speak of would have been removed.
Finally, it was attentive of you to notice that I was “painting a landscape of New Mexico’s southern desert in Sunday comic-strip colors” because that is precisely what Hard to Have Heroes is all about.
Well, everyone is entitled to an opinion. Even you!
Certainly a different opinion than that of the Pima County Public Library, where "Hard to Have Heroes" was chosen as one of the Southwest Books of the Year 2012. Reviewer Margaret Loghry said, "Fascinating descriptions of desert creatures are a bonus in this heartwarming coming-of-age novel for adults." To each his (or her) own.
Fortunately this review appeared after I had seen the play. As I am often guided by the reviews appearing in the periodical. I will have to rethink this procedure. This play was stark and poignant. I am of the mind that Barbara's persona was executed nicely by Arnold. The lack of histrionics and breakdowns was refreshing. Her portrayal was much more realistic than what was described above.
Guajardo portrayal of Kenneth as wounded right from the start, is not inappropriate and he is able to keep the audience at that level through the 80 minutes of the show. Could it have been done differently, of course, would that have made it better for the audience? Who knows. In my opinion this performance is worth the investment of both our time and ticket price, Arnorld and Guajardo can be proud of developing great characters resulting in realistic persons that appears to take minimal effort on their part. Actors at their solo and collective best.
I do not like Jefferson Carter and I do not like his poetry. He has the edge of a butter knife. I didn't like My Kind of Animal or any of his previous books. I thought this review was funny, and probably too nice, though I will not read Get Serious. The title alone is enough to turn me away, a terrible title. Although I don't understand how the reviewer could say at the end that Carter deserves an audience the size of Billy Collins'. Why would he say that, after such a negative review?
A bizarre, ageist review. It started with the mistake of presuming a certain poem is automatically from the perspective of the poet himself and then devolved into shots about "literary Viagra" and "Splenda." A disservice not only to Jefferson Carter's work but to the past work done by the reviewer, who is normally pretty good.
Mr. Keene- I "Goggled" you and was met with an impressive resume... but this review for Mr. Carter was disappointing to say the least. Not because I disagreed with your overall opinion... but because you used a horribly, cheesy image "sugar life's lemons." Any reviewer or editor for that matter who would even use this as a crutch instead of a solid opinion loses any weight at all with me.
I am a reader, not a critic. And that's what I thought about Jefferson Carter's latest:
Get Serious, the title of Jefferson Carter’s new poetry collection may as well be Carter’s way of talking to himself under his breath. From Carter’s poetry I get the feeling that he’s hiding his seriousness in what often seem ‘light’ poems, funny to the average reader. Some may be written tongue-in-cheek – because that’s the only way he is often able to express his most serious concerns; sometimes he’s hiding engagement, tremendous love and tenderness in metaphors that make one smile; often there is pure sarcasm expressing despair about the state of the world and all who sail in her.
His poems are sometimes caustic, entertaining and thought provoking, enjoyable and sad, exceedingly well-crafted and often brilliant.
You want another ‘book full of Jefferson’, the one who will not get serious, read Get Serious. It contains some old friends from former editions of his work which I was happy to meet again.
In reviewing Jefferson Carter's "Get Serious: New and Selected Poems," Jarrett Keene commits the critical fallacy of confusing the speaker of a poem with its author--a fallacy which, if we follow its arc to its logical conclusion, compels us to diagnose poets who employ various personae in their work--Norman Dubie springs to mind--as clinically schizophrenic. Such a narrow minded critical aesthetic confines poetry to the realm of autobiography and reduces the role of poet to
documentarian. More absurd is Mr. Keene's implied notion that the mission of poetry should be to turn lemons into lemonade. If Mr. Keene prefers whipped-cream platitudes of reassurance in response to life's frequent disappointments, he would be better served browsing the racks of his local Hallmark shop rather than risking his sense of well-being turning the pages of a book of poetry. I'm not suggesting we limit our endorsement of verse to the dark shadows of existential angst--or any other single creed for that matter--but I have a feeling if you enjoyed the spry wit and lyrical honesty of Carter's previous work you'll find much to like in his new poems as well.
The following was originally sent as a letter to the editor on Dec. 27, 2012.
Get Serious is not only the title of a poetry collection by Jefferson Carter, recently reviewed in Tucson Weekly, but should serve as an admonition to the reviewer, Jarret Keene, as well.
As one who has reviewed poetry collections—and in this case, Carter’s latest book—it is difficult to understand, certainly impossible to accept, Jarret Keene’s dependence on ageism as a primary standard for analyses.
Keene writes (“Moody Metaphors,” Tucson Weekly, Dec. 27, 2012), “[Get] Serious sounds at times like an aging, embittered poet’s final testament or last verses.” These remarks are followed by ageist euphemisms: “When he remembers to pop his literary Viagra,” or suggesting the poet “should consider sneaking Splenda into his moody lemonade,” are condemnations of age-as-disease, and not poetry. They are not cute or coy; they are attempts to denounce a poet’s poems based on stereotypical assumptions about age, assumptions that should trouble us all. (It makes readers wonder if Keene has ever read those notable works produced by older poets.)
To do this, however, Keene must first dismiss the idea that poems may have personae and assume every poem has one speaker who has no other identity as a narrator or poetic character, but is simply the poet himself, which violates one of the basics of Poetry 101. Many voices emerge in Carter’s poetry and assume the first person narrator of ‘I’ just as in Robert Browning’s verse, or those of Ezra Pound, T. S. Eliot, or W. H. Auden. Of course, Keene's approach creates sensationalism, that old cheap ploy to gain the attention of readers.
Keene’s review is an ad hominem attack using ageist rhetoric and caricature. “Tucson Weekly” is not well represented by such ignorance, or viciousness which perpetuates ageist stereotyping to the exclusion of a poetry that is at once otherwise durable and valuable.
Charles: To be fair, Jarret doesn't say that Carter should be like Billy Collins, but that he deserves a similarly-sized audience. A significant difference, I believe.
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