So a gathering of contemporary artists – including Nicolas Deshayes, Philomene Pirecki and Sally Troughton – are staging this show of abstractions that reflect on historic uncertainties.
Rubies, the finale, a revival from 1967, brought on the ballerinas prancing with the groomed gloss of ponies on show; undoubtedly, Patricia Neary, the Balanchine veteran hired to stage this show, has raised their game.
And as this was the first Falstaff I'd ever seen in a full staging, this show felt like the ideal introduction to the piece.
Tina Satter, the troupe's artistic director, who wrote and stages this show, uses a large cast of archetypes, including cheerleaders, coaches, band members, a mascot and a quartet of strutting, trash-talking players.
Both in terms of performance (especially Fae) and staging, this show is engaging and visceral from start to finish.
Rooted in pain and truth — and featuring the nastiest truth-talking puppet ever to haunt a Chicago stage — this show somehow managed to be satirical and sweet, caustic and kind, slick and subversive, all at once.
Considering the penetrance found in seedling stage, this shows that weak anisocots compensate with extended proliferation during late embryogenesis to give almost normal dicot seedlings.
What's the most alarming thing that's happened on stage with this show?
Satire is all but dead on the London stage, so this show by Justin Butcher deserves the warmest of welcomes.
Pascoe is a clever writer and an engaging stage presence; this show may deliver the breakthrough she deserves.
