Like no time at all has passed

As our Weekly reviewer Caitlin Berka observed this week, the musical "Pippin" has never quite made it out of the '70s. Camp, oh yes, camp galore. Pat silliness or part of its charm: it all depends on your particular corner of the sky.

When "Pippin" opened this weekend at Foothill Music Theatre, one chap in the audience may have given theater-goers even more flashbacks. Why, it was Micky Dolenz, formerly of The Monkees, who was there to see his sister Coco playing Pippin's grandmother, Berthe. He even gamely posed for photos with the cast.

That's brotherly love, and also turnabout. Apparently Sis recently came to see her brother when he played Charlemagne in a touring revival of "Pippin."

I'm hoping to see Foothill's show, because you hardly ever get to see "Pippin" around these parts. Years ago, I danced in a production at M-A High School -- and realized only years later, watching the video, that much of it had sailed right over my head.

Rather a mature play (and I don't just mean the orgy scene, which was toned down for we youngsters). The idea of journeying around to find yourself is lovely for people of all ages. I never want to stop doing that. But the hollowness that Pippin finds in so many places -- from violence to political intrigue to sex -- is a sensation I'm glad I didn't know at 14.

Pictured: Micky Dolenz surrounded by the "Pippin" cast at Foothill Music Theatre. Photo courtesy of Carla Befera and Co.

Help wanted. Or not.

Reader Laurie Naiman, who has won many honors in the Weekly's annual photo competition, was kind enough to send me this terrific picture.

Naiman snapped it at the Sears department store in Mountain View that's in the process of selling things wildly before closing. (Great place to buy $10 T-shirts!)

Quips the photographer: "I think the image cries out for a caption, like 'Pension benefits not included.'"

An upside-down, 'round and 'round world

M.C. Escher's parents wanted him to be an architect. If only we could climb into his works and world.
Since I was a pup I have loved the dizzying feeling of peering at his prints, leaning to the side, flopping my head over, squinting and grinning.

At least for the moment you can see many of his lithographs and drawings and wood engravings at the San Jose Museum of Art. Worth the drive, but if only the exhibit were larger...

I wonder if anyone has tried to build an actual Escher building.

By the by, here's a great quote from the master, followed by a quote someone wrote in the exhibit's visitors' book:

"Perhaps all I pursue is astonishment and so I try to awaken only astonishment in my viewers. Sometimes 'beauty' is a nasty business."
-M.C. Escher, 1956

"What goes up doesn't always come down."
-S.J. museum viewer, 2007

The great Donald

Some friends and I recently had a lovely retro night at the Stanford Theatre seeing "Singin' in the Rain." I won't say anything about Gene Kelly, because what can you rave about Gene Kelly that hasn't already been raved?

But I could rave for hours about Donald O'Connor, Kelly's sidekick in the flick. Comedy is arguably the hardest thing an actor can attempt, and I bow at the feet of this man's snort-inducing mastermindedness. I admit I didn't even know Donald O'Connor's name before this, but now I do. Oh, king of backflips off the wall, why aren't you still around to coach us mere mortal actors?

O'Connor was born into a vaudeville family, and it shows. His kind of acrobatic silliness set to show tunes may be out of fashion in today's movies, but I would challenge any Jim Carrey to pull it off.

So I laughed myself silly during O'Connor's "Make 'Em Laugh" sequence. Then today I learned on IMDB that the poor guy had to take to his bed for three days after filming it. Check it out here. Then join me in fondly remembering the late Donald David Dixon Ronald O'Connor.