NEWSical
All the News That’s Fit to Spoof
BY ANDREW SLOAN
12TH GRADE, LAGUARDIA H.S.
NEWSical, the new musical revue of politics and pop culture, is a hysterically
funny collage that hits the mark with every song and skit. The first song, “Everybody’s
Full of S____,” informed the audience that all one sees in the media is
actually treachery and deceit. The show lampoons almost every American public
figure, including George W. Bush (“Some say I don’t read/They’re
just nerds/I’d read my daily briefing/But it’s full of big words”)
and John Kerry (“Resolute/ Like they put a statue in a suit/I’ll
do my best to take both sides of each issue”).
NEWSical equally bashes
Bush and Kerry. The imitation of Senator Kerry was wonderful, inspiring uproarious
laughter. All four cast members were brilliant. A first-rate scene about conservative
talkshow host Rush Limbaugh’s prescription painkiller addiction was aptly
titled “I’m Stoned.” In it, a newly sober Limbaugh repudiates
all of his previously conservative pronouncements as a product of his being stoned.
A farce about the universe of online dating was particularly relevant to the
current generation of people who have grown up with the Internet and its many
matchmaking Web sites. The final song insisted that if you’re feeling good
for any reason, it’s probably because “You’re in Denial.”
NEWSical
is a fabulous show, a truly fun and entertaining experience. For high school
students in today’s media-crazed environment, NEWSical is a timely political
satire updated weekly to reflect the latest news stories. As I left the theatre
with my father, an avid reader of Play by Play who uses the magazine to recommend
shows to his friends, we grinned at one another. He avowed, “This is definitely
a show that people we know would enjoy,” and I concurred. If you don’t
have a desire to get tickets for NEWSicaland be thoroughly entertained, then,
in the words of Mr. Crom, “You’re in denial.”
Fatherhood, Poetry and Hip-Hop
An Interview with Marc Bamuthi
Joseph, National Poetry Slam Champion, on his solo show,
Word Becomes Flesh
“If you would have told me that I’d be performing poetry for a
living, or forging new artistic ground by integrating the languages of hip-hop
into the theatrical forum, I would have sworn that you were buggin’...
That Robert Frost cat was on to something when he took the road less traveled.”
INTERVIEWED BY HEMAMSET ANGAZA
11TH GRADE, BARD H.S.
EARLY COLLEGE
Marc Bamuthi Joseph’s solo performance Word Becomes Flesh, is a series
of performed letters to an unborn son, using poetry, dance, live music and visual
art to document nine months of pregnancy from a young, single father’s
perspective. Marc Bamuthi Joseph is a National Poetry Slam champion, Broadway
veteran and featured poet on the past two seasons of Russell Simmons Presents
Def Poetry for HBO. Hemamset Angaza interviewed Marc Bamuthi Joseph by e-mail
about his upcoming performances:
Question: Have any life experiences inspired
you to write this piece?
Answer:
Absolutely.
The entire piece was inspired by the birth of my son and recounts his mother’s
pregnancy from my perspective. Pregnancy is necessarily and justifiably a time
to focus on maternity, but fathers go through our share of emotional evolution
as well. Writing this piece helped me explore some of those feelings and also
leave a living word, a performed document if you will, for my son as a keepsake
of his time in the womb. The second experience that inspired the piece happened
over the course of 2002, my son’s first full year with us. During that
year, there was a record number of recorded homicides in Oakland, California,
where we live. Of those, more than 75% of those murdered were black men between
16 and 30. Less than a third of those murders led to arrests or convictions.
Word Becomes Flesh is a meditation on the rhetorical question which asks how
many of those murdered men grew up in the home with their fathers, or, for that
matter, how many of those murdered men were fathers themselves. I specifically
wanted to do a piece about fatherhood because there’s a horrible cycle
in the Black community, in particular, of absent fathers. I wanted to use the
language of hip-hop to speak both to and for the hip-hop generation about a frightening
bi-product of male privilege, which is irresponsibility. Unfortunately, our current
social condition is such that a man might be ridiculed for walking out on a family,
but is not socially condemned for it. While women continue to fight for their
right to make choices about their bodies, the elements of patriarchy and male
privilege give a man the social right to choose domestic absenteeism, refraining
from offering either emotional or financial support.
Q: What audience is the
voice of your character directed to? And what audience do you think would get
the most out of this?
A: My piece is a series of letters from a father to an
unborn son, so my character’s audience is most literally a child in the
womb. Though I speak specifically of the various fears and insecurities surrounding
raising a young black male in the 21st century, my time performing this piece
around the country has shown me that any audience can relate to this story.
Q:
You use poetry, dancing, live music and visual art. What made you decide to create
your piece with this unique combination?
A: I grew up dancing in New York, at
Broadway Dance Center...and at Dalton where I went to high school. Dancing was
my first passion, and I’d like to think that I speak through my body as
articulately as I do with my words. I have a similar relationship with music
and visual art. These have always been the tools for my artistic inspiration.
Combining these disciplines just helps to bring out all the colors that are involved
in telling what is ultimately a very personal and yet universal story.
Q: Could
you say a few words to our teen readers who might see your piece?
A: Ten years
ago, when I graduated from high school, I thought I was going to be a lawyer.
If you would have told me that I’d be performing poetry for a living, or
forging new artistic ground by integrating the languages of hip-hop into the
theatrical forum, I would have sworn that you were buggin’. Ten years ago,
this discipline barely registered as a marginal blip on the artistic radar screen,
and yet here I am, teaching spoken word at Stanford, and performing this craft
all over the world. I guess it just goes to show that it makes sense to stay
open to the fullest range of your possibilities. That Robert Frost cat was on
to something when he took the road less traveled.
