Word: stagings
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...clubs, she has worked up a concert act that she is currently taking through 14 cities before invading the citadel, Las Vegas. Eager to wade into the musical mainstream, Donna dusts off The Man I Love and Some of These Days and presses them into a stage extravaganza that doesn't yield an inch to good taste...
Arms flung wide, blowing kisses like confetti, Donna sashays around the stage in glittering costumes, exhorting the audience ("You are beautiful"), joshing the band, trading a little prefabricated bitchiness with her backup singers who undulate at sharp angles like clockwork Nefertitis when Donna wraps herself around a lyric. "I do not consider myself a disco artist," Donna insists, against all contrary evidence. "I consider myself a singer who does disco songs. What I like to do is expose my market to other parts of music...
...stage of De Chirico's early paintings, two cultures met. One was the "classical" Mediterranean culture that dominated his boyhood memories. Born in Greece, the son of a peripatetic Sicilian railroad engineer, De Chirico knew it well: the ocher walls of provincial towns, the neglected public gardens, the statuary and antique rubble. On the other hand, modernity was constantly thrusting its emblems into this dream: trains, clocks, surveyors' instruments, rulers, protractors. From this collision between mythic time and measured time, an extraordinary poignancy arose; and the best of these early De Chiricos have not dated...
Only in the climactic maternal confrontation, which should be unbearably tender, does Howard falter. Tears wet his cheeks, but he does not really seem to weep. Perhaps this is because Audley's Volumnia is like a stage mother who has pushed her son into the limelight, not nurtured him for later glory...
...dominant color is black, with soldiers in leather, plebs in street clothes, patricians in velvet ankle-length robes. The stage is blocked out like those tunnel run ways through which cattle are prodded to slaughter. Terry Hands' hot-spirited direction makes 3½ hours pass like one, a daunting feat well worth emulation by directors who dawdle over the Bard till he turns tepid...