In The Vortex of Times Square case study, the textbook calls the tourist area a “space dedicated to performance” by actors and spectators alike. When I hear Times Square, a different kind of artist (or worker) comes to mind– the amateur character actors  in knock-off Elmo and Dora costumes. I wonder if to them, pretending to be a child’s favorite TV character is their 15 minutes of fame… a chance to perform on Broadway in a way… or are they just concerned with making a few bucks? There seems to be a low-brow element to this, perhaps a parallel between the cheap vaudeville performances in the early 20th century that became popular in the area because of their affordability and accessibility.

In the nationalist movement of theatrical antiquarianism, plays aimed to immerse audiences in foreign cultures through historically accurate representations on stage. While most times these renderings were of cultures past, foreign actors that embodied an exotic aesthetic, like Tommaso Salvini, were often popular. Did Salvini’s celebrity come from an authentic appreciation and interest in Italy or from a fascination with foreign cultures, deemed peculiar and perhaps even, inferior (as seen in later Orientalist theatre?)

As a Bronx native, I always get a sense of pride whenever I see my hometown borough getting it’s share of the New York City spotlight. I was definitely caught by surprise when at the New York’s Yiddish Theater exhibition at the Museum of the City of New York, The Bronx was presented as one of the main hubs for Yiddish theater in the city, as far uptown as 180th Street. There was even an entire show that revolved around Jewish workers and their commute to and from The Bronx and Manhattan, entitled the Bronx Express. The dream-like show follows a man who interacts with characters on the train’s advertisements, which I found especially relatable as during my sometimes hour-long commutes, I completely lose myself in the characters, text and symbolism that the advertisements emit.

While the New York Public Library for the Performing Arts is seemingly alive and well, as Tuesday’s trip alluded to, I can’t help but think about it’s potentially threatened future. Will this hub of knowledge become something of the past? A victim of poor city budgeting? A casualty to the digital world we live in? Or will people like Doug Reside continue to give the library life? His passion for archival pursuits was so inspiring and I know it is up to us young people to continue the tradition of interest and investment in libraries, and all of the literary and historical treasures they have to offer.

I found the Kathakali performances very beautiful to watch but almost impossible to understand- thank Krishna for the subtitles in the second video! It seems as though the dance-drama is intended for a native audience as the language and hand gestures are obviously very specific to India. I was able though, to get a general sense of the mood of the stories through the facial expressions of the main characters, which were further accentuated with their elaborate makeup and the tone in which the vocalists sang. The costumes were also very beautiful, with a hooped skirt that made movement and dance possible. The makeup and costumes did seem very hot and heavy though, which I don’t find to be ideal for performing on stage.

When it comes to personal preference, I’ve always been attracted to more modern or contemporary plays. After reading  The Bacchae, I think I know why. The drama, which follows traditional formats of ancient Greek plays and early theatre, is very verbose and ornate in its language. And while I enjoy reading the stylistic intricacies, I don’t enjoy watching the words on stage nearly as much. When reading these ancient plays, I have time to re-read, digest and ponder the elaborate text. But on stage, everything happens so quickly there’s barely enough time to process the words flying out of the actors’ mouths. Even in contemporary abridged versions, I find that much of the words are obscured, the complexities and details that give the play its color lost in the translation from paper to stage. I imagine the sentiment would have been even stronger in fifth century Greece, with no microphones or projector screens to amplify and clarify the actor’s voices and intentions.

If public life in fifth-century Athens was organized around elaborate festivals that helped maintain social and political cohesion, why were the dramas developed for the annual festival of Dionysus ones that presented and provoked social issues?

If listeners of oral performances in primary oral cultures did not listen to understand the messages being spoken (TH, 18), why are there fundamental moral lessons in epic works like Gilgamesh, whose origins are in primarily oral cultures?