Wait until you hear 14-year-old Schuyler (Skye) Iona Press perform the songs she wrote–part prophecy, part nostalgia, and all poetry, delivered in a voice so rare you can’t pin it on anyone else. A husky, tremulous alto? Some might say Carol King, but Skye is not only influenced by folk, but also by rock, punk, and Latin music. And the lyrics bring us back to a time when kids her age weren’t hyper-sexualized, when questions they asked were about fitting in, about the nature of the individual, what it means to be human. It’s a show you’d be glad you brought your kid to.
Although she’s so young, nostalgia permeates her work, the ghosts of the NYC neighborhood where her mother grew up. Her father, Darren Press was a co-director along with Skye’s mother, C. Fraser Press who also wrote the material. It’s practically a family album. Continue reading
The Irish Repertory Theater
W. Scott McLucas Studio Theater
132 West 22 Street, NYC
Extended through May 26th
Wed at 3pm & 8pm | Thu at 7pm | Fri at 8pm | Sat at 3pm & 8pm | Sun at 3pm
In an intimate theater space (I was lucky enough to be in the front row) the curtain rises on O’Callaghan in a hoody, his body slumped in a Rodin The Thinker pose. Then we see him spring to life, no, larger than life, to act out his hilarious and heartbreaking true story of how he went from a broke, drunk, unlucky-at-love-guy with both his gay lover and even his dog, to his adoption of a Ugandan orphan that changed his life. His parents didn’t believe he could ever take care of a goldfish, but when O’Callaghan agreed to help shoot a documentary in Africa, he felt destiny’s magnet pulling him to overcome impossible odds to get his son. Continue reading
We all know what a brilliant actor Matthew McConaughey is which he proves once again in MUD. But wait until you see the performances of the two young teenagers: Tye Sheridan, Jacob Lofland. So artfully understated, making them more powerful. I’d like to read the screenplay. Although my doctor says that my hearing is so good I can hear the grass grow, I missed so many lines. The accent and the realistic, intimate tone in which the lines were delivered contributed to it. Also, the audience who couldn’t stop saying, “What did he say?” which made me miss the next lines too.
Somehow, on the Huffington Post, my essay was billed as having to do with Alzheimer’s. It’s actually a fun read and I hope that it isn’t forgotten. (Forgive the pun.)