A very funny reading, how to grok Shakespeare, a short book review and a shuttered printing press

Gravity’s Rainbow. The Brothers Karamazov. Infinite Jest. Richard II, Cymbeline — what do these all have in common? They’re works of literature that some of us — particularly us poor slobs clutching English degrees — feel like we should have read and haven’t. Or we read them part way and gave up.

Earlier in life, I carried guilt about this. A copy of The Brothers K still sits on my bookshelf, mocking me with its mere presence and challenging me to pick it up again and learn to discern all the Alexei’s from Alyosha’s. But now, decades since the book was gifted to me by my friend Ingrid, I say to hell with it — I don’t want to read it and so I won’t!

But what about Shakespeare? Surely as a theatre writer, I must love all of it, right? Well, sure, I like a lot of Shakespeare, but I’ve never gotten through King Lear without nodding off, and a production of Richard II (the one without the horse-kingdom line) a ways back at the Colorado Shakespeare Festival convinced me I’d sooner have my fingernails pulled out than sit through another of the Bard’s histories.

Millions of Finger-Shaking Readers: Shame on you! You’re missing all the great (insert stuff about Richard II and all the other histories here).

(Me with my hands over my ears going “la-la-la-la-la.”)

Anyway, one thing I have learned over the years is that the best way to enjoy a Shakespeare production (unless it’s one of the “easy” ones like Romeo & Juliet or Much Ado About Nothing) is to read up on them before you go. That way all the period references and obscure allusions tossed out will make more sense to you, and there’s no shame in just learning “what it’s about” before you go.

It helps! And so does this great webinar series that the Colorado Shakespeare Festival does to prep theatregoers. It’s called Classics 101 and this year it has recordings of the webinars about Much Ado About Nothing, King Lear and The Winter’s Tale. Hosted by the dramaturgs from the productions, they’re a great intro and backgrounder for the shows so … check ’em out here!

Millions of Readers: What the hell is a dramaturg?

That’s one for another column …

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If you, like me, give a flying furball about local journalism in Colorado, you should check out the Substack “Inside the News in Colorado” by Corey Hutchins, interim director of Colorado College’s Journalism Institute. It’s chock-full of inside baseball about the media landscape in the state and endlessly fascinating, IMO.

In the recent edition, Corey details the decision by Gannett to shut down the pressroom of the Pueblo Chieftain. It’s hard to believe, but the Chieftain will be printed in Denver starting sometime in August, then trucked down to readers in Pueblo.

I also found out my li’l hometown rag, the Highlands Ranch Herald, was also being printed in Pueblo, so they’re one of many small publications looking for a new printer.

It illustrates how a big press operation like this one isn’t just about one newspaper: the Chieftain’s press crew printed lots of other publications — five dailies, 46 weeklies and 10 monthlies!

That’s a serious loss. Granted, many of us no longer read print newspapers, but many still do. It’s hard to imagine some of those dinky weeklies that local readers rely upon easily finding another place to print. So a big middle finger to the bean counters at Gannett who pulled the rug out like this without giving much thought to the people and communities it will impact. Reminds me a little of our Supreme Court these days …

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I recently finished Colorado author Shelley Read’s new novel Go as a River. It’s the debut for the former Western State prof, and it’s quite good. It centers around a peach-growing family in Iola, Colorado — a real town that was inundated and destroyed by the creation of the Blue Mesa Reservoir in 1966.

At the center of the story is Victoria, who’s 17 at the start of the novel and a dutiful part of a family that includes her widower dad, a bitter, war-wounded uncle and asshole younger brother. The status quo is broken when she encounters a young laborer in town named Wil Moon. The two immediately fall for one another, but things get complicated when the townsfolk believe Wil is both a thief and — gasp! — a Native American.

It’s a tale of star-crossed lovers that’s made incredibly compelling by Read’s beautiful prose as well as her willingness to explore some blatant cruelty and tragedy along the road to a bittersweet but satisfying conclusion.

It’s a powerful novel about female strength, suppressed shame and forces beyond our control. And, you’ll learn a lot about peaches along the way. Highly recommended.

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Comedy is my favorite kind of theatre, and my feeling that I don’t get to see enough of it around here was interrupted by a reading hosted by BETC/Clover & Bee the other night at the Savoy in Denver. The play was Hope and Gravity by Michael Hollinger, and the reading was directed by Josh Hartwell. Playing nine parts were five excellent local actors: Emma Messenger, Jason Maxwell, Chloe McCleod, John Wittbrodt and Michael Morgan.

And holy cow this is a funny show! The sold-out crowd for the one-night performance was comprised largely of theatre folks, and the house was rocking as the plot unfolded. The catalyst for it all is an elevator accident, and Hollinger presents the scenes out of order, then starts pulling them together until the intersecting lives of the characters all become apparent.

It’s a devilishly clever construction that’s combined with some great characters and dialogue. Despite what Hartwell says was only a few hours of rehearsal, all five actors were well astride the material. Standouts were Maxwell as a dentist who’s a compulsive liar and Messenger as the wife of an elevator repairman (Morgan) who’s warily trying out her first affair. There’s a scene where Maxwell and McCleod are hooking up at a self-help conference (she for her morbid fear of dentists and he for his lying) that’s off-the-hook funny.

Morgan is great as both the nerdy, blue-collar elevator guy and the poetry professor who’s lost his mojo, and there’s another standout scene where two poetry grad students (McCleod and Wittbrodt) are coaching their professor through a hilarious bit where he’s confusing his own work with those of other famous poets — all due to the elevator accident, you see.

Here’s hoping this one comes back around as a full production sometime soon! And BTW: This reading was also a fundraiser for the Denver Actor’s Fund, which helps local theatre folks with health-related expenses.

That’s it for now, have a happy Fourth of July!