By Chris Lane
By Jeff Balke
By Aaron Reiss
By Angelica Leicht
By Dianna Wray
By Aaron Reiss
By Camilo Smith
By Craig Malisow
So Long, Sondheim
Houston's drought continues
TUTS (Theatre Under The Stars) has announced its musical choices for the 2009-10 season; there are (as usual) no surprises.
If you're a Stephen Sondheim fan, you're out of luck. Not that we would expect TUTS to put on any Sondheim (see "Les Passe," April 11, 2002) but, you know, hope springs eternal.
It's clear: Houston is a bad, bad place to be a Sondheim fan. Years can go by without a production, and even then it's typically Sweeney Todd, which we've seen, man.
We called Paul Hope, the actor behind the terrific Bayou City Concert Musicals, the nonprofit group that puts on a weekend's worth of (almost always) exquisitely executed musicals as an annual fund-raiser. Cast and musicians work for $100 each, and since it's not a long run, the best in local talent participates.
Awhile back, while talking to Hope as research for giving Bayou City a Best of Houston award, he told us he planned on choosing a Sondheim show every other year for the annual event.
Now he's talking every five years.
Which, given the stunning productions Bayou City did of Assassins and A Little Night Music, is a development that — as Sondheim probably wouldn't say — sucks monkey balls.
"I haven't abandoned Sondheim — it's just I thought I could build our audiences faster if I did older, more accepted titles," he says. "Then I can get away with doing a Sondheim show."
This year's show will be On the Town; after that it's Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, Finian's Rainbow and One Touch of Venus.
Part of the blame, Hope says, should go to Everett Evans, the Houston Chronicle stage critic. Bayou City depends on heavy amounts of preview coverage and then a review, and Everett has shown, Hope says, that he won't do that for shows that have been produced in Houston before, even if it was a relatively long time ago.
Evans is a Sondheim fan himself, it must be said, but Hope says Bayou City had to back away from doing Company because they didn't think they'd get the needed Chron publicity.
"I'm under a lot of pressure from him not to do anything that's been done before," he says. "Even with Company, I told him, 'It's been done, yes, but this time it will be with a full orchestra.' Didn't matter."
So why does Houston shy away fromSondheim?
"I just think Houston audiences are more conservative," Hope says. A Little Night Music is a big-enough name, and Follies presents a chance to have beloved Houston stage vets appear again.
"Anything else, though — except maybeInto the Woods — and you start to have a diceygame," he says.
Your loss, Houston.
HMNS and the con man
by Richard Connelly
In the small Montana town of Malta, a paleontologist named Nate Murphy pleaded guilty recently to stealing a rare fossil from a landowner.
Murphy had found an exceedingly rare turkey-sized raptor fossil and made money off it, but he faked the paperwork declaring where he found it. He said he discovered it on land owned by someone he already had a deal with regarding fossils, instead of the real site, neighboring land where he had no such agreement.
Why does this matter in Houston?
Because Murphy is the guy who found Leonardo, the prized and celebrated "best-preserved dinosaur" that is displayed at the Houston Museum of Natural Science.
Robert Bakker, the HMNS curator of the Leonardo exhibit, talked to Hair Balls from a dig in Baylor County, Texas.
While he says there are no doubts at all about the provenance of Leonardo ("I've been to the site many, many times; it's been surveyed a jillion times and all thoroughly vetted"), there are plenty of doubts in his mind about Murphy.
"I thought I knew him," Bakker says. "I helped him raise money for the museum. But about two and a half years ago, I noticed he was telling stories, tall tales, stuff about bands he had played in or football medals he had won. I just thought it was an eccentricity."
But, obviously, it wasn't. "The hanging offense, if you're a paleontologist, is lying about provenance — where you got the thing," Bakker says. "And he just lied, again and again."
At least he didn't lie about Leonardo.
"Certain death" is too subtle?
by Richard Connelly
The South Florida Sun-Sentinel reported recently that the National Weather Service plans to offer guidelines on changing the warnings it gives for hurricanes and tornadoes, because not enough people are paying attention to them.
The paper said that NWS meteorologist Robert Molleda "said the change stems from Hurricane Ike, which slammed Galveston and Houston last September. Some of the local weather advisories 'buried' information urging people to evacuate, he said."
To which we say: Whaaat?
The Ike warning became legendary: "Persons not heedingevacuation orders in single-family, one- or two-story homes may face certain death," it said.
How much more clear does a warning have to be? (Putting aside the fact that lots of people survived the "certain death" storm.)