By Merilyn Jackson
For The Inquirer
None of this matters to audiences, which erupt in applause at the end of each act and bolt from their seats to cheer before the finale’s last notes fade. This is the kind of show that would have elicited flowers flung on the stage in another era.
What puzzles me is that Twyla Tharp gets nary a raised eyebrow for her Broadway excursions with Billy Joel and her Sinatra syndrome, while Parsons has his feet held to the fire for collaborating with the East Village Opera Company (EVOC) to create an uber-sexy, easy-to-follow narrative as entertaining as any opera from a century ago – a gorgeously performed work for our time.
Read more: http://www.philly.com/inquirer/magazine/20101204__Remember_Me___and_you_will__at_Annenberg.html#ixzz17BYewx4O
PLEASE NOTE: For some reason, my best line was edited out of the article and now reads incorrectly. It should have read, as I’ve corrected it above: “What puzzles me is that Twyla Tharp gets nary a raised eyebrow for her Broadway excursions with Billy Joel and her Sinatra syndrome…”
I meant it that way because Tharp has gone off the deep end on Sinatra and I’ll gag if I ever have to review one of those pieces again. What’s with that?