Theater News

Sometimes, Critics and Audiences Do Agree

The Siegels visit a Drowning show and have a somewhat better time when they take in jazz singer Tierney Sutton at the Oak Room.

Ebony Jo-Ann and Alfre Woodardin Drowning Crow(Photo © Joan Marcus)
Ebony Jo-Ann and Alfre Woodard
in Drowning Crow
(Photo © Joan Marcus)

There’s something truly impressive about a failure like Regina Taylor’s Drowning Crow. A writer has to have major league cojones to try to turn Anton Chekhov’s The Seagull into a serious, contemporary Southern play with African-American characters. This adaptation comes complete with references to everything from websites to hip-hop; there’s almost no end to Taylor’s efforts to make this classic Russian play accessible to an audience that might not have seen it before. The problem is that the Manhattan Theatre Club has a savvy subscription audience made up of people who have almost certainly seen productions of The Seagull in its original form — and they have been flying out of MTC’s Biltmore Theatre even before the intermission, essentially saying “Flock you!” to Drowning Crow.

That may sound harsh, but it’s true — and the critical reaction to the show has been no better. It has nothing to do with reviewers being miffed over the attempt to modernize Chekhov; the same sort of thing is done constantly to Shakespeare, etc. without the wrath of critics being aroused. Taylor failed, in part, because she didn’t go far enough. If she had turned The Seagull into a full-fledged musical instead of a play with a few songs, she might have been swimming in a sea of much better reviews.

Audiences can forgive a certain lack of reality in a musical but not in a straight play. Drowning Crow ultimately fails because many of the issues raised in The Seagull vis-a-vis 19th century Russia simply don’t apply to modern American culture. For instance, in the Russia of the original play, a girl who runs away to become an actress, gets pregnant, and is abandoned by her lover is truly ruined. In Drowning Crow, she is forced to take a job in the national tour of Ragtime. Please! That’s a gag worthy of Forbidden Broadway, except that it isn’t played as a joke.

There are, of course, universal themes in Chekhov’s play that are easily transposed from one century and culture to another. But Taylor’s adaptation, like Marion McClinton’s direction, is too often heavy-handed in this regard. Also, Anthony Mackie’s performance as the tortured young artist is not calibrated to make us pull for him, which is essential for the play to work.

The prodcution certainly is a showcase for great African-American actors. Movie star Alfre Woodard stars as the actress/mother and she gives a solid performance. So, too, Aunjanue Ellis is fetching as Hannah, the doomed young actress wannabe. (She comes off particularly well because, by comparison, Natalie Portman was so bad in this role when The Seagull was presented at the Delacorte Theater in Central Park with Meryl Streep and Kevin Kline). Tracie Thoms gives a vibrant performance as Mary Bow and Peter Francis James brings depth to his role as the famous writer Robert Alexander Trigor. Paul Butler is impressive as Peter Nicholas, the patriarch of the family. Finally, Ebony Jo-Ann as Jackie the maid provides the show’s best singing, which brings us back to the wish that this show had been a musical.

When all is said and done, Manhattan Theatre Club is truly eating crow with this deeply unpopular and fundamentally flawed production.

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Tierney Sutton
Tierney Sutton

Passion on Prozac

If jazz artist Tierney Sutton lived in an earlier era, she would have been a hit on the madrigal circuit. She has a voice so perfect, so delicate, so infinitely musical that it’s no wonder she began her act at the Algonquin Hotel’s Oak Room the other night singing a cappella. Her show is not about anything else except that voice; this is ostensibly a tribute to the music of Frank Sinatra but that’s just a marketing hook.


Sinatra cared deeply about lyrics and was famous for his phrasing. It’s instructive that Sutton’s current CD, Tierney Sutton: Dancing in the Dark (TelArc) refers to “the music of Frank Sinatra” and not the songs. She doesn’t access these numbers through their lyrics despite the fact that she has chosen some of the most passionate songs in the Sinatra canon. Although she tells us that she was deeply moved when she first heard “All the Way,” she sings that standard without any hint of the emotional commitment it demands. When she briefly leaves Sinatra territory to render the Patsy Cline classic “Crazy,” its a case of passion on Prozac. Frankly, Sutton was crazy to program this song.


At one point in the show, she announces that if a song is really familiar, she and her band like to shake it up and take it on a journey. She’s telling the truth; many of her selections sound gorgeous as she performs them but they might as well be in a foreign language because Sutton doesn’t communicate anything other than the beauty of the music. For example, she takes a haunting song like “Autumn Leaves” and turns it into an uptempo number. Can it be done? Sure. But what’s the point?


Tall and beautiful, Sutton is someone you like to look at. Lord knows, she won’t look at you; she performs her entire set staring at a fixed point on the wall above the heads of the audience. She doesn’t turn left or right except to briefly look at the band. If you know the Oak Room, you know that most of the audience is seated to the singer’s left and right. There are a few tables front and center — but Sutton never looks at those people, either.


Tierney Sutton clearly has a following and her fans don’t seem to mind her dispassionate approach to lyrics. Her musicianship is unquestionable, her sound exquisite, and she’s delicious to look at. If that’s enough for you, make a note that she’s at the Oak Room through March 13.

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[To contact the Siegels directly, e-mail them at siegelentertainment@msn.com.]

Featured In This Story

Drowning Crow

Closed: April 4, 2004