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No need to worry if you haven’t read the dust jacket, because I got the unblinking one sentence pitch of Cheyenne writer Tommy Orange’s There There to hitch the most disinterested readers: twelve exhausted Native folks reeling from one cross-cultural massacre come home to powwow at the Big Oakland Powwow, inside a big metal dome. Continue reading Power of the Powwow: A Review of Tommy Orange’s There There
A rainy Sunday in Vancouver lends itself to noir. As we skulked under the steel girders of Granville Bridge, I found myself ascribing tropes to my fellow theatregoers as we walked past converted warehouses. Over there walks our hero alone, the private eye in her overcoat, lighting a covert cigarette. Here, a pair of femme fatales with their red umbrellas. Walking along by the docks, you can almost see the ghosts of longshoreman past. But what was once a foggy place of corrugated tin factories is now a cobblestoned island of upscale markets, touristy boutiques, and luckily for me, theatre venues, home this month to the Vancouver Fringe Festival, where I took in two comedic shows.
How do you make a magic show for the twenty-first century? In the tenth century, it was about grifting small coin from a few unsuspecting traders. In the nineteenth century, Robert-Houdin formalized it, founding a magic theatre, and performing tricks that Louie Bonaparte would later contract for political ends. In the twentieth century, magicgained visibility and grew weirder: Harry Houdini would survive public burial, magicians would establish their own club (called The Magic Circle), Criss Angel would gothify it and take it to television. So what about now? Continue reading “Weirdo is magic for the twenty-first century”– PRISM reviews the 2018 Vancouver Fringe Festival