Named "BEST DEBUT OF A NEW COMPANY" in 2011
by Christopher Rawson, The Pittsburgh Post Gazette
http://www.post-gazette.com/pg/11356/1198428-325.stm
***
F.J. Hartland,
PITTSBURGH THEATRE TODAY
honors ORGANIC in the
MOST MEMORABLE MOMENTS
in Pittsburgh Theater for 2011:
"Overall, shows that truly entertained me during 2011 include
Organic Theater's unusual Dead Man’s Cell Phone..."
"There were also some very memorable performances by lead actors this past year.
Jaime Slavinsky answers a stranger’s cell phone and is beautifully sucked down a rabbit hole as “Jean” in Organic Theater’s Dead Man’s Cell Phone."
http://pittsburghtheatertoday.blogspot.com/
***
by Christopher Rawson, The Pittsburgh Post Gazette
http://www.post-gazette.com/pg/11356/1198428-325.stm
***
F.J. Hartland,
PITTSBURGH THEATRE TODAY
honors ORGANIC in the
MOST MEMORABLE MOMENTS
in Pittsburgh Theater for 2011:
"Overall, shows that truly entertained me during 2011 include
Organic Theater's unusual Dead Man’s Cell Phone..."
"There were also some very memorable performances by lead actors this past year.
Jaime Slavinsky answers a stranger’s cell phone and is beautifully sucked down a rabbit hole as “Jean” in Organic Theater’s Dead Man’s Cell Phone."
http://pittsburghtheatertoday.blogspot.com/
***
PITTSBURGH MAGAZINE says,
Go Green at Organic Theater Pittsburgh!
This week, slip the big-box theater retailers and see a labor of love at a boutique production company.
BY SEAN COLLIER
The brand-new company takes their name seriously; in addition to using green building materials and working to make their production as eco-friendly as possible (and an offer of $2-off tickets in exchange for an old cell phone to be recycled,) they make ample mention of an “organic” approach. As they put it on their website, “Through a unique rehearsal process based on improvisation to discover the essential actions of the play, we seek to create a wholly organic theatrical product.”
That bit of information is illuminating after seeing their production of Sarah Ruhl’s Dead Man’s Cell Phone. It would take just such a process, I think, to create the vivid, incredibly real characters that this show offers. Dead Man’s Cell Phone opens with meek Jean (a virtuoso performance by Jaime Slavinsky, also Artistic Director of the company) discovering that a gentleman at a neighboring cafe table has perished, and his phone is ringing. In a moment of panic, she answers; from there on, she feels responsible for his legacy, largely through the continued possession of his cell. As she attempts to represent this man to his loved ones, she makes him better than he was; it’s a bold statement on how much of our identity we invest in our electronic representation, and equally as powerful as it is funny.
The script quickly creates an intimacy (aided by excellent set design and use of the small space at ModernFormations Gallery) through a number of opening scenes featuring a character literally or effectively alone on stage, addressing the audience. From there, it’s on the performers, and they can’t be stopped. Perhaps it’s the strength of the “organic” approach, or perhaps these actors and actresses just nail it, but for a play that features multiple trips to the afterlife and an overwrought fight sequence set to a Tarantino score, it’s as real as anything you’ll see on any stage.
Dead Man’s Cell Phone has uneven moments as it tries to toe the line between farce and earnest social commentary, but they are few and far between; for the most part, you’ll be entranced by a powerful production by a very serious new company. If this is what Organic Theater Pittsburgh will be bringing to the fringe, I’ll be back every time.
Go Green at Organic Theater Pittsburgh!
This week, slip the big-box theater retailers and see a labor of love at a boutique production company.
BY SEAN COLLIER
The brand-new company takes their name seriously; in addition to using green building materials and working to make their production as eco-friendly as possible (and an offer of $2-off tickets in exchange for an old cell phone to be recycled,) they make ample mention of an “organic” approach. As they put it on their website, “Through a unique rehearsal process based on improvisation to discover the essential actions of the play, we seek to create a wholly organic theatrical product.”
That bit of information is illuminating after seeing their production of Sarah Ruhl’s Dead Man’s Cell Phone. It would take just such a process, I think, to create the vivid, incredibly real characters that this show offers. Dead Man’s Cell Phone opens with meek Jean (a virtuoso performance by Jaime Slavinsky, also Artistic Director of the company) discovering that a gentleman at a neighboring cafe table has perished, and his phone is ringing. In a moment of panic, she answers; from there on, she feels responsible for his legacy, largely through the continued possession of his cell. As she attempts to represent this man to his loved ones, she makes him better than he was; it’s a bold statement on how much of our identity we invest in our electronic representation, and equally as powerful as it is funny.
The script quickly creates an intimacy (aided by excellent set design and use of the small space at ModernFormations Gallery) through a number of opening scenes featuring a character literally or effectively alone on stage, addressing the audience. From there, it’s on the performers, and they can’t be stopped. Perhaps it’s the strength of the “organic” approach, or perhaps these actors and actresses just nail it, but for a play that features multiple trips to the afterlife and an overwrought fight sequence set to a Tarantino score, it’s as real as anything you’ll see on any stage.
Dead Man’s Cell Phone has uneven moments as it tries to toe the line between farce and earnest social commentary, but they are few and far between; for the most part, you’ll be entranced by a powerful production by a very serious new company. If this is what Organic Theater Pittsburgh will be bringing to the fringe, I’ll be back every time.
Alexandra Strycula of BROADWAY WORLD says,
Organic Theater Pittsburgh, Pittsburgh's brand new - and only - "eco-friendly" theatre company, is currently making a promising debut with the Pittsburgh premiere of Sarah Ruhl's 2008 play, DEAD MAN'S CELL PHONE. Under the direction of Ricardo Vila-Roger, this quirky, two-hour dark comedy performs at the Modern Formations Gallery & Performance Space in Lawrenceville.
Think about how much of your life is encapsulated within your cell phone. For many, that answer is likely close to immeasurable. Now imagine what would happen if someone were to find your cell phone: what would its contents - and its incoming calls - reveal about you?
Such is the crux of DEAD MAN'S CELL PHONE. Jean, a skittish, jittery drip with an odd penchant for stationery, happens to witness a man's death in a non-descript café one afternoon; she calls 911, but retains his perpetually ringing cell phone. Through the deceased man's incoming calls, Jean is brought to a motley crew of ensemble characters who each possess a host of ridiculous quirks and eccentricities.
Jean is played by the Organic Theater Pittsburgh's artistic director, Jaime Slavinsky, and played mighty well, at that. On stage for essentially the evening's entirety, Ms. Slavinsky endows Jean with a handful of nervy stammers and number of additionally awkward - yet endearing - personality traits.
Each of the remaining five cast members are equally well-suited to their roles and are given individually impressive moments to shine: Deborah Wein's hilariously insensitive portrayal of the dead man's mother, Mrs. Gottlieb, contributes to much of the first act's laughter, while widower Hermia's (Jennifer Chervenick) most memorable scene comes in the form of a drunken second act caper. Also featured are Adam Kukic as Jean's perfectly gawky match, Ja'Sonta Roberts Dean as both mistress and mysterious stranger, and Michael E. Moats as Gordon, the deceased.
DEAD MAN'S CELL PHONE raises numerous considerations to ponder, the most significant being just how obsessed with technology some are in the digital whirlwind that is the twenty-first century. But in this show, Ms. Ruhl works hard to assure that nothing smacks you over the head - nothing, that is, except a few unexpectedly well-timed comedic moments that may have you close to rolling in the aisles (but keep clear, because there are actors in transit, and the aisle is in fact home to one of the evening's most aesthetically memorable moments near the end of the show).
Moreover, Organic Theater Pittsburgh seeks to provide the city with a unique, eco-friendly theatergoing experience: not only does it aim to "create a wholly organic theatrical product" through improvisation-based rehearsals, but it also "[relies] on Earth-friendly, recycled, and sustainable materials and [partners] with local artists, merchants, and environmental organizations" in order to better promote environmental awareness. In the case of DEAD MAN'S CELL PHONE, ticket buyers may bring an old cell phone to recycle and in turn receive $2 off the price of admission.
Read more: http://pittsburgh.broadwayworld.com/article/BWW-Reviews-Organic-Theater-Pittsburghs-Debut-of-Sarah-Ruhls-DEAD-MANS-CELL-PHONE-20110722#ixzz1TVPGE2i8
Organic Theater Pittsburgh, Pittsburgh's brand new - and only - "eco-friendly" theatre company, is currently making a promising debut with the Pittsburgh premiere of Sarah Ruhl's 2008 play, DEAD MAN'S CELL PHONE. Under the direction of Ricardo Vila-Roger, this quirky, two-hour dark comedy performs at the Modern Formations Gallery & Performance Space in Lawrenceville.
Think about how much of your life is encapsulated within your cell phone. For many, that answer is likely close to immeasurable. Now imagine what would happen if someone were to find your cell phone: what would its contents - and its incoming calls - reveal about you?
Such is the crux of DEAD MAN'S CELL PHONE. Jean, a skittish, jittery drip with an odd penchant for stationery, happens to witness a man's death in a non-descript café one afternoon; she calls 911, but retains his perpetually ringing cell phone. Through the deceased man's incoming calls, Jean is brought to a motley crew of ensemble characters who each possess a host of ridiculous quirks and eccentricities.
Jean is played by the Organic Theater Pittsburgh's artistic director, Jaime Slavinsky, and played mighty well, at that. On stage for essentially the evening's entirety, Ms. Slavinsky endows Jean with a handful of nervy stammers and number of additionally awkward - yet endearing - personality traits.
Each of the remaining five cast members are equally well-suited to their roles and are given individually impressive moments to shine: Deborah Wein's hilariously insensitive portrayal of the dead man's mother, Mrs. Gottlieb, contributes to much of the first act's laughter, while widower Hermia's (Jennifer Chervenick) most memorable scene comes in the form of a drunken second act caper. Also featured are Adam Kukic as Jean's perfectly gawky match, Ja'Sonta Roberts Dean as both mistress and mysterious stranger, and Michael E. Moats as Gordon, the deceased.
DEAD MAN'S CELL PHONE raises numerous considerations to ponder, the most significant being just how obsessed with technology some are in the digital whirlwind that is the twenty-first century. But in this show, Ms. Ruhl works hard to assure that nothing smacks you over the head - nothing, that is, except a few unexpectedly well-timed comedic moments that may have you close to rolling in the aisles (but keep clear, because there are actors in transit, and the aisle is in fact home to one of the evening's most aesthetically memorable moments near the end of the show).
Moreover, Organic Theater Pittsburgh seeks to provide the city with a unique, eco-friendly theatergoing experience: not only does it aim to "create a wholly organic theatrical product" through improvisation-based rehearsals, but it also "[relies] on Earth-friendly, recycled, and sustainable materials and [partners] with local artists, merchants, and environmental organizations" in order to better promote environmental awareness. In the case of DEAD MAN'S CELL PHONE, ticket buyers may bring an old cell phone to recycle and in turn receive $2 off the price of admission.
Read more: http://pittsburgh.broadwayworld.com/article/BWW-Reviews-Organic-Theater-Pittsburghs-Debut-of-Sarah-Ruhls-DEAD-MANS-CELL-PHONE-20110722#ixzz1TVPGE2i8
Gordon Spencer of Pittsburgh City Paper says,
Organic Theater Pittsburgh has made a lively debut in an impressively performed play. It'sDead Man's Cell Phone by acclaimed, prolific Sarah Ruhl, whose work has been seen on Broadway and in other significant places.
Attention must be paid because Ruhl reminds us that the artificial life in our hands -- that small communication device to which our eyes, ears and minds are so affixed -- diminishes real connections with people we know and care about, leaching away our limited time in a world we'll leave behind. Downloaded into Hell, we should not be surprised that no signal can reach us from the heavens.
Along with that basic message, Ruhl gives lots of goofy reasons to laugh at fully fleshed-out characters, filling in their actions and thoughts with clever, quirky details.
Jean, a good soul, works at a Holocaust museum. Finding Gordon Gottlieb sitting, dead, over a bowl of lentil soup, she answers his insistently ringing cell phone and gets linked to his unsavory past life. Because she believes in showing kindness to strangers, Jean calls on Gordon's mistress, wife, mother and brother, investing Gordon with posthumous sainthood. But, inevitably, she confuses urgent ringing with more significant priorities and finds herself in a holding zone at the entrance to Hell, where Ruhl riffs on Sartre-like ideas.
Jaime Slavinsky invests Jean with wonderful vulnerability and, when Jean's life pulses in many directions, Slavinsky's every touch works. As Gordon's mother, Deborah Wein has all the right edges. Michael Moats' relaxed panache as Gordon makes natural and colorful the fulcrum of the action. And Adam Kukic's interpretation of Gordon's overshadowed brother, Dwight, conveys the sweet dimensions of a gentle person well matched with Jean's tender side.
Ricardo Vila-Roger has directed with fine insight, keeping the multi-dimensional satire well paced yet never overplayed, even during switches in and out of real time and place. Slavinsky has also contributed imaginative projections as part of her simple set design, working well in a small playing space.
Despite Ruhl's skewering of our addiction to cell phones, at opening-night intermission, five or six people in the audience immediately touched their plastic appliances instead of conversing with people next to them.
F.J. Hartland of OutOnline! says,
"...To the credit of the Organic Theater, they give the script a top-notch production.
Jaime Slavinsky portrays Jean beautifully—capturing all the nuances of a shy, lonely woman caught in a situation that overwhelms her. Slavinsky makes a complete physical transformation, looking like America Ferrara of television’s Ugly Betty.
As the Dwight, the deceased brother, Adam Kukic makes a welcomed return to the stage. His Dwight is simultaneously sweet and creepy. Kukik embodied a lost, little puppy—but you’re never quite sure if the dog is going to lick your hand or bite it.
Also making a return to the stage after a long absence is Deborah Wein as the deceased man’s mother. Wein brings great comic relief to Dead Man’s Cell Phone, and the eulogy she delivers for her late son is hilarious!
Director Ricardo Vila-Roger (and scenic designer Jaime Slavinsky) have beautifully show-horned this production into the spare space of the ModernFormations Gallery and Performance Space. The set pieces are simple but well-enhanced by the use of projections. The use of Edward Hopper paintings to reflect the isolation of the characters was a stroke of genius."
Colette Newby of PITTSBURGH CITY PAPER says,
Organic Theater's new production, Scarcity, is an intense story of poverty and domestic abuse where no character is left with any shred of dignity. You will not smile during the show, or on the drive home, or for a while after you return. This play by Lucy Thurber is, however, successful in everything it sets out to do.
There is much in Scarcity for a prurient audience. It depicts a brutal setting where a father compliments his daughter's ass before her mother hits her, and the only person with any chance at upward mobility is the object of his own teacher's sexual advances. This is a domestic drama that requires a fight choreographer.
The set design is impeccable in its depiction of the stereotypes of low-income squalor, and even the lighting makes everything look soaked in tobacco. No doubt if the production were any more heartfelt, the actors would be tripping over empty beer bottles every other line.
The cast, as directed by Justin Zeno, is completely convincing in their roles — even when beating children or sexually assaulting people. Tense silences are so thick they congeal around you. Infrequent comic relief is provided by Bridget Cary's Gloria, a childless woman who desperately seeks class mobility.
At first glance, Scarcity seems to subscribe to the Dickensian idea that the poor remain poor because they cannot stop drinking, fighting and sexually assaulting one another for long enough to better themselves; they can be elevated only when wealthy philanthropists adopt pure-hearted orphans. This reading has one kink: Old Money's sole representative is a teacher played by Meagan Reagle. She lusts after students, humiliates a family in its own home, and literally cackles upon learning her star pupil's family income.
This perspective leaves us in a deeply pessimistic and misanthropic world with no future for the young prodigy Rachel, played by 15-year-old Hannah McGee, who is a major character in four other plays by Thurber.
Thurber is an acclaimed young playwright, but come to see Scarcity only if you have a strong stomach and want to see actors at the peak of their craft portraying awful people.
There is much in Scarcity for a prurient audience. It depicts a brutal setting where a father compliments his daughter's ass before her mother hits her, and the only person with any chance at upward mobility is the object of his own teacher's sexual advances. This is a domestic drama that requires a fight choreographer.
The set design is impeccable in its depiction of the stereotypes of low-income squalor, and even the lighting makes everything look soaked in tobacco. No doubt if the production were any more heartfelt, the actors would be tripping over empty beer bottles every other line.
The cast, as directed by Justin Zeno, is completely convincing in their roles — even when beating children or sexually assaulting people. Tense silences are so thick they congeal around you. Infrequent comic relief is provided by Bridget Cary's Gloria, a childless woman who desperately seeks class mobility.
At first glance, Scarcity seems to subscribe to the Dickensian idea that the poor remain poor because they cannot stop drinking, fighting and sexually assaulting one another for long enough to better themselves; they can be elevated only when wealthy philanthropists adopt pure-hearted orphans. This reading has one kink: Old Money's sole representative is a teacher played by Meagan Reagle. She lusts after students, humiliates a family in its own home, and literally cackles upon learning her star pupil's family income.
This perspective leaves us in a deeply pessimistic and misanthropic world with no future for the young prodigy Rachel, played by 15-year-old Hannah McGee, who is a major character in four other plays by Thurber.
Thurber is an acclaimed young playwright, but come to see Scarcity only if you have a strong stomach and want to see actors at the peak of their craft portraying awful people.
