| | This just came up in the random que, which was quite timely. I just read a review in the Seattle Stranger where a critic blasted the outdatedness of KING AND I and critized a local theater for even having it.
This is a review of a "play" that is considered more in line with what modern theater SHOULD be:
Axolotl
Chamber Theater
Through Oct 16.
I have always disliked the fruitier side of theater—the aspect championed by touchy-feely, art-as-therapy groupies who inevitably sport soul patches, a pop-psychobabble vernacular, and meaningful tattoos. That crowd always seemed unsophisticated and pretentious, devoted to smothering hard truth, courageous humor, and everything else worthwhile about art under a pillow of platitudes. So imagine my surprise when I found myself one of 20 blindfolded people, squirming on the floor in a pile of newspaper, listening to ambient laptop noise and freeform clarinet, delicately touching fingers with a stranger, and hoping the experience wouldn't end.
Axolotl is a Nahuatl word for a blind albino salamander, which is what you feel like during the performance. Audience members don blindfolds and leave their bags, shoes, and recreational irony at the door. "Facilitators" lead you into the space to explore blindly for two hours, wandering through ambient noise, randomly strewn objects, and lots of bodies to touch or avoid as the mood strikes you. Fellow audience members usually touch tentatively, exploring hands, hair, and feet. The facilitators—who, as the only seeing people in the room, are the real spectators—cradle, grapple, or massage. At one point, somebody tore off my socks, and rubbed me down with crumpled newspaper, saying, "Good bath! What a good bath!" Somebody else persistently asked what I was "looking for" (and wouldn't take my evasions for an answer), leading to a conversation about metaphysics and doubt. A woman with a beautiful voice took me into a different room, wrapped me in a blanket, put a stuffed animal in my lap, and whispered short sentences about contentment in my ear.
I left the theater shell-shocked. It was easily the oddest, most surprising performance experience I've ever had. And, against all expectations, one of the most rewarding. BRENDAN KILEY
Now, I am not a fan of theater, for the most part. But I did like the KING AND I (it did seem very Objectivist, didn't it?). I know punk rockers who like THE KING AND I. It is not fruity (for a musical), it is tuneful, colorful, fun, thought provoking. If the above is supposed to constitute what the future holds...well, anything I say here is going to seem melodramatic, and I wouldn't want to be fruity or too lyrical, so I am going to go crawly around on the basement floor with a blindfold and rub my ass with the newsprint that this article was printed on.
(Edited by Joe Maurone
on 10/16, 2:52pm)
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