Latest news with #Falstaff
The Guardian
25-03-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
Michael Ratcliffe obituary
Michael Ratcliffe, who has died aged 89, was the former theatre critic of the Observer. He was one of the last of the 'man of letters' breed of journalist who encompassed all the arts, with experience, erudition and a regard for the great tradition, especially in Europe, but an open, expansive and always analytical attitude to innovation. Most of his work was that of a literary editor and critic. When I read his reviews as chief book reviewer on the Times for a decade in the 1970s, I could not believe there was one person writing these extraordinary short essays across every topic, week in, week out. In this respect, he was a latter-day Philip Toynbee, or Anthony Burgess. He was not a sprinter, nor a marathon runner as a critic, but a superb middle-distance performer. His only full-length book was the completion (following the author's death) of The Bodley Head 1887-1987 (1987), a centenary history of the publishers of Graham Greene, Muriel Spark and Maurice Sendak, written by his editorial colleague in his Sunday Times years JW Lambert. Ratcliffe had previously published a volume, The Novel Today (1968), for the British Council. Those years on the Sunday Times (1962-67) and the Times (as literary editor, then chief book reviewer, 1967-82) were followed by more than a decade at the Observer, where he was theatre critic from 1984 to 1989 and literary editor from 1990 to 1995. He wore his authority lightly. As a critic, he was perhaps under the radar, not necessarily the best place to be. But that was because of his innate modesty. His manner was serene, almost episcopal in his stately, unflamboyant carriage and expression. And his voice was as sturdily baritonal as that of any celebrated singer. You only have to read his deeply felt, lacerating and informed reviews of, say, Martin Amis's The Information (1995), Penelope Fitzgerald's The Blue Flower (1995) and Robert Nye's Falstaff (1976) – hailed as 'one of the most ambitious and seductive novels of the decade' – to know you are in the hands of someone you can trust, enjoy and then argue with. His prose style was fluid and unshowy, decked with pointed cross-references and illuminating comparisons. In the theatre of the 80s he was conspicuously supportive of such outstanding new companies as Cheek By Jowl, directed by Declan Donnellan and his designer partner Nick Ormerod, and of Mike Alfreds' Shared Experience. Both were small-scale operations that prospered widely because of his championship, becoming hugely influential. And he saw, and wrote about, Peter Brook's sensational production of The Mahabharata (1985) four times over three years – in a quarry near Avignon, at the Bouffes du Nord in Paris, in Brooklyn, New York, and in Glasgow, where it launched an exciting new arts space in the former Museum of Transport – aligning the work with all manner of previous cultural emanations. His last published writing was a magisterial obituary of Brook in this paper in 2022. He was also an unswerving admirer of Stephen Sondheim, writing incisive, penetrating programme notes and interviews over the years, occasionally dining with him in New York, too. On the other hand, he wasn't mad about 'rock opera', describing Les Misérables (wrongly, in my view) as 'a witless and synthetic entertainment'. This was perhaps surprising, given his immersion in European music and theatre – he was made an officer of the German federal order of merit in 2003 for his attention to, and coverage of, German theatre – but he responded more full-heartedly to the European plays of Tom Stoppard and Christopher Hampton. He admired the latter's wonderful Tales from Hollywood (1983) – about the émigré writers in Hollywood after the fall of Vienna in 1938: Brecht, Heinrich Mann, the ghost of Ödön von Horváth – 'an ability to assimilate quantities of documentary material and animate them into shapely dramatic life'. Michael was born in Cheadle Hulme, Manchester, the elder son of Joyce (nee Dilks), a pianist trained at the Royal College of Music, and Donald Ratcliffe, a bank manager. He was educated at Cheadle Hulme school and Christ's College, Cambridge, where he studied modern history. After working in the late 50s as a supply teacher in Manchester, he was a trainee journalist on the Sheffield Telegraph (1958-61) before joining the Sunday Times in 1962 as assistant arts and literary editor to Lambert. He moved to the Times in 1967 as literary editor for 10 years, continuing in 1972 for another 10 as chief book reviewer, before joining the Observer in 1984. In 1971, he met Howard Lichterman, a statistician and subsequently marketing executive at the Welsh National Opera and English National Opera, who had arrived from his native city of New York with a list of contacts who might help him promulgate his artistic enthusiasms. He and Michael lived together from that year on, and when Howard, with Richard Barran, formed the specialist tour company London Arts Discovery Tours in 1981, their lives were even more professionally entwined. Michael was a regular guest for the critic sessions with visiting Americans and led tours as a guide in some of his favourite cities – Budapest, Paris, Vienna and Berlin. His knowledge of the cultural high spots and the venues of musical, theatrical and operatic premieres was faultless. And of course he could speak of the works themselves. His many outstanding essays included a contribution to the sumptuous British Theatre Design: The Modern Age (1989), edited by John Goodwin, in which he said 'the 80s classical British theatre moved from leather to garbage, towards conspicuous consumption, architectural grandeur and a kind of magpie, eclectic resourcefulness'; and, in Prospect magazine in 1996, a definitive assessment of gay fiction from Edmund White to Alan Hollinghurst in its social and historical context. Michael and Howard – they formed a civil partnership in 2006 and married in 2015 – travelled often to their favourite spots such as Lake Como and Salzburg (for the music festival), lived in London at first in Westbourne Grove, then Islington and latterly in Clerkenwell. He is survived by Howard. His younger brother, Richard, predeceased him. John Michael Ratcliffe, theatre critic and literary editor, born 15 June 1935; died 14 March 2025
Telegraph
11-03-2025
- Telegraph
Savour Spain's gastronomic island
Tenerife might not be the first Spanish destination that springs to mind for food and drink, but to locals and those in the know, the island has had an incredible and innovative food scene for centuries. A new generation of chefs has also brought a fresh look to classic Canarian cuisine, using produce from the bountiful island and the bracing Atlantic Ocean that surrounds it, and Tenerife now has 10 Michelin stars across eight restaurants. Wine is also big business on the island, and you'll spot vineyards as much as you will banana plantations as you travel the diverse Tinerfeño landscape. 'Farewell, my hearts: I will to my honest knight Falstaff, and drink Canary with him,' says The Host in Shakespeare's The Merry Wives of Windsor. He's referring to Canary sack, a sweet wine that was produced in La Orotava valley in the north of Tenerife back in the 1500s. The bard himself was a big fan and supposedly had a barrel of Canary wine written into his contract. Wine has been produced in Tenerife for centuries, since the Spanish brought vines to the island in the 15th century. Taste the volcano These days the wines are less fortified, and Tenerife's volcanic terroir paired with native grape varieties means that bottles are much prized around the globe. In La Orotava, you'll spot grape vines growing in the cordón trenzado method, where they're braided in long horizontal rows to make the most of the sunshine. Bodegas Suertes del Marqués has been the driving force behind the modern Canarian wine scene, putting it once again on the international stage. Most wineries offer visits and tastings, but try Bodegas Tajinaste for wines made from the native listán negro grapes that often produce flavours of sour cherry, raspberries and black pepper. On the opposite side of the mountain near Arafo, you'll find one of the island's highest vineyards, Bodegas Ferrera at more than 1,000m above sea level, whose naturally sweet marmajuelo white wine with notes of melon and grapefruit shouldn't be missed. For a true taste of the island's viticultural prowess, make a pilgrimage to La Casa del Vino in the idyllic town of El Sauzal, where some of the island's best wines can be paired with stunning views of the Atlantic. It's because of wine that Tenerife can possibly claim the idea of the first pop-up restaurants. Known as guachinches, these rustic canteens have been cropping up for decades at the end of the wine harvest each September. Vineyards create cheap and cheerful eating spots in their barns, garages and sheds and serve simple Canarian cuisine, such as grilled meat, fried cheese, and papas arrugadas (salty baby potatoes served with either red pepper or coriander mojo sauces) along with their own wines. There are restrictions on how long these makeshift restaurants can be open, but if you're around the north of the island in autumn you'll often spot handmade signs on the side of the road pointing out a nearby guachinche. Mar y montaña – sea and mountains Good-quality produce has always been a staple of Tinerfeño gastronomy, and you'll find weekly agricultural markets across the island. Head to the capital Santa Cruz de Tenerife on a weekend and you'll find the covered municipal market known as La Recova. Here there are stalls selling fabulous Canarian cheeses, often made from goat's milk, as well as fresh fruit, wines, honey rum, meat and seafood. Venture downstairs to the fish and seafood section and watch as the merchants carefully select, prepare and serve a plethora of shellfish to hungry patrons – often swilled down with a local sparkling wine. At nearby La Hierbita restaurant you can feast on local dishes such as garbanzada (chickpea stew), cherne (wreckfish, which tastes a bit like cod), and carne fiesta (herby, spiced pork) along with a comprehensive list of local wines. You'll find versions of these dishes and ingredients served up in many of the Michelin-starred restaurants on the island. At Haydée – soon to be reopening in the Gran Tacande Hotel – chef Victor Suárez puts a unique twist on classic Canarian with plates such as oysters with banana kimchi, and rabbit tartlet with salmorejo (a traditional marinade of oregano, bay, garlic and more). Elsewhere, husband-and-wife team Andrea and Fernanda use their Italian and Chilean roots to create their signature tasting menus at Nub at Bahía del Duque resort. With dishes such as corn crème brûlée, with aged onion and herb ceviche, it's little wonder that the Michelin inspectors are consistently impressed. Tenerife beyond the beach With multiple airlines flying direct to Tenerife from the UK every day, it's time to find out more, plan your travel and book your trip with the Tenerife Tourism Corporation
CBS News
24-02-2025
- Entertainment
- CBS News
Duo the owl mascot revived. Duolingo declares, "legends never die."
The owl mascot for Pittsburgh-based Duolingo is not dead after all, according to social media posts by the organization. At least two posts appeared on the company's social media accounts on Monday, declaring "Legends never die" and "Duo is back." y'all really think i'd let a cybertruck take me out? #duolingohasrisen — Duolingo (@duolingo) February 24, 2025 The green owl has become a memeable internet sensation for the way some users of the language learning app think he threatens them to do their lessons. Over the last two weeks, Duolingo has posted multiple times to their social media accounts mourning Duo and their other cast of characters, including Falstaff the bear. Duo said, "faking my death was the test and you all passed." Turns out, Duo's death may have just been a ploy to get Duolingo users back on the app to do their language lessons. In a social media post last week, the company said 50 billion XP, or learning points, were needed to revive the owl. And that's just what happened as thousands returned to their language learning lessons to collectively bring the mascot back to life. The saga of Duo's reported death The saga began on Feb. 11 with an "important announcement" from the company posted to the social media platform X. "It is with heavy hearts that we inform you that Duo, formally known as The Duolingo Owl, is dead," the statement read. Duolingo said "authorities" were investigating his cause of death and the company was cooperating. "Tbh, he probably died waiting for you to do your lesson, but what do we know," the statement said. "We are aware he had many enemies, but we kindly ask that you refrain from sharing why you hate him in the comments. If you feel inclined to share, please also include your credit card number so we can automatically sign you up for Duolingo Max in his memory." In a statement to KDKA-TV, a spokesperson confirmed that Duo is in fact dead as part of a brand marketing campaign. The plot thickened a day later when Duolingo posted a video to social media asking for help identifying the driver of a Tesla Cybertruck that hit the owl mascot in a parking lot, launching it up into the sky and apparently past the gates of hell. "Please post any leads on Twitter," Duolingo wrote, adding, "Thank you for your patience with us during these trying times." Duolingo says it has embraced a "wholesome and unhinged" brand tone after its green owl mascot turned into an internet sensation. "Our mascot was initially designed to encourage regular practice. But once the internet got their hands on him, he grew into a more complicated — even menacing — character with his own lore. He's still cute and cuddly. But he's also willing to temporarily relocate your family to ensure you finish your lessons," the company wrote in its handbook.
New York Times
12-02-2025
- Entertainment
- New York Times
‘Henry IV' Review: Two Plays Become One
A young prince and an old knight walk into a tavern … So much of Shakespeare's 'Henry IV' plays like a setup, either to a joke or to a significant turning point in English history. It's perhaps the most defining, and trickiest, element of the Henry plays, which often combine the interpersonal high jinks of a comedy with the politics and knavery of a war drama, sans the typical dramatic structure. In a new production from the Theater for a New Audience, the two 'Henry IV' plays are combined into a single adaptation that clocks in at nearly four hours. The script, by Dakin Matthews, condenses and restructures the material, while the direction by Eric Tucker opts for a more classic, toned-down staging. For all the successful work this 'Henry IV' does to combat the unwieldy bloat of the two history plays together, it does not probe the central characters enough to uphold the stakes and maintain the tension throughout the lengthy running time. The result is a serviceable production that lacks fresh revelations. The 'Henry IV' plays are part of the Henriad, the series of history plays that begin with 'Richard II' and end with 'Henry V.' Often considered the less glamorous section of Shakespeare's oeuvre, the plays are about the making and unmaking of kings, the burdens of the crown, revolts, betrayals and the disastrous clashing of many male egos. At the start of 'Henry IV,' Henry Bolingbroke (played by Matthews) has usurped the crown with the help of the Percys, a family of English lords who now lead a rebellion against Bolingbroke for that same crown they helped him procure. Meanwhile, Bolingbroke's son, Prince Hal (Elijah Jones), fetters away his time drinking and palling around with the crooked old knight John Falstaff (Jay O. Sanders) and his reprehensible cohort. Hal and Falstaff's trivial pursuits are interrupted, however, when they're called to the battlefield, and by the end of 'Henry IV,' Hal has renounced his old habits, brutally rebuffed Falstaff and taken his place on the throne as King Henry V. The relationship between Hal and Falstaff, a favorite of lit majors and Shakespeare scholars, is the true heart of the material. The young prince and the old knight are like father and son, mentor and mentee, but also serve as each other's foils. They represent opposite sides of age and privilege, and their gradual dynamic shift reveals the nuances of their characters. For all his comedic purpose in the story, Falstaff emerges as a tragic figure — the niggling sideshow act in a grander story about nobility and a nation's evolution. He's the sacrificial lamb to Prince Hal's ascension. Each of the three acts ends with a major scene between Hal and Falstaff, marking another dramatic crux in their story. One of the production's strengths is how Matthews cleverly structures the script to steadily follow the arc of these two characters. However, the same nuance and decisiveness is less present in the direction and some of the performances. Jones, who played an older version of Hal in the Chicago Shakespeare Theater's recent 2024 production of 'Henry V,' offers a performance that feels unintentionally laced with ambivalence. How much is Hal inclined toward the frivolity of Falstaff and his buddies from the London underground and how much toward the throne? At what lines, in what moments does he decide to step into the role of Henry V not just in title but in attitude? These subtleties aren't always signaled by the performance. Similar is true for stage stalwart Sanders, whose wincing, slovenly Falstaff unsteadily teeter-totters across and around the stage, the butt of a colorful array of Shakespearean fat jokes. This Falstaff is a vain, boisterous clown, but not much else; Sanders's performance doesn't touch on Falstaff's underlying somberness until the end. The version of Falstaff as the sad philosophizing old man is almost completely subsumed by Falstaff the degenerate clown. Tucker, who is also the co-founder and artistic director of the innovative Off Broadway theater company Bedlam, has staged this production in the round, on a small platform stage, in a surprisingly minimalist style. There's a dry matter-of-factness to this aesthetic choice: the actors enter and exit among the audience, sometimes taking seats next to audience members along the aisles, and the music and wardrobe changes are all set up within view, along the perimeters of the Scripps Mainstage at the Polonsky Shakespeare Center. This 'Henry IV' also sticks roughly to the style and fashion of the time in which it was written. The costume design, by AC Gottlieb and Catherine Zuber, is full of layered cloaks and robes, with subtle variations of textures and patterns so even the mute black and browns — occasionally interrupted by a splash of carmine for the royals — are treated with some dimension. The lighting design, by Nicole E. Lang, often draws too much attention to itself; the harsh overhead fluorescents in the early scenes give the production a distant, clinical feel. That isn't the only place where the production feels distant. Overall, it's worth applauding the cast, most of whom, with the exception of Sanders and Jones, play between two and six separate roles. And yet some of the monologuing, as with Matthews's Bolingbroke and Jones's Hal, comes across as more showy and performative than intimate and naturalistic, despite the production's attempt to draw the audience in closer through its cozier staging. There are, however, some cast members who connect more effortlessly with the audience and the text. Jordan Bellow makes a meal of his role as Hal's friend Poins, imbuing the lines with playful character and Poins's postures and movements with a comedic waywardness. James Udom handily switches between the proud, hot-tempered Henry 'Hotspur' Percy, with his puffed out chest and long, confident stride, and Pistol, a slouching soldier from Falstaff's cohort. Steven Epp is likewise charming in all respects, whether as the wry-tongued and dry-humored Worcester or the bumbling tavern waiter Francis. Over the long run time (which includes two intermissions), we see a young prince and an old knight walk into a tavern together, march on a battlefield together, trade jabs and muse on their futures. But when the prince transitions into a king and that old knight becomes irrelevant — what then? The punchlines in 'Henry IV' are as much about laughs as they are about losses. The ending must find its players, and hopefully the audience, irrevocably changed.
Yahoo
12-02-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
LA Opera drops Missy Mazzoli's `Lincoln in the Bardo,' which will premiere at New York's Met
The Los Angeles Opera dropped a contemplated world premiere for the second straight season in a cost-cutting move, and Missy Mazzoli's 'Lincoln in the Bardo' will instead open at New York's Metropolitan Opera. Adapted from George Saunders' 2017 novel and with a libretto by Royce Vavrek, 'Lincoln' was to debut in Los Angeles in February 2026, Saunders said last October. But it was not included when the LA Opera announced its 2025-26 season on Tuesday, 'With rising expenses, it's harder for us to manage the manifestation of all of our potential dreams,' LA Opera president Christopher Koelsch said. 'It's a wonderful project and I think it will be very impactful when it gets to the Met. What Missy and Royce have done in adapting something that is essentially unadaptable is really miraculous, a very beautiful and very moving piece.' Saunders' novel, about the death of President Abraham Lincoln's son William Wallace Lincoln, takes place between life and rebirth. Mason Bates' 'The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay' was to have premiered in LA last October but was left off the schedule and instead given a test run with a student cast at Indiana University's Jacobs School of Music in November. It is planned to open the Met's 2025-26 season on Sept. 21. The Met announced it 2018 it had commissioned 'Lincoln' and by 2023 said the work would be seen first in LA. It will now debut in October 2026 at the Met. Koelsch, managing his company's return following the coronavirus pandemic, said he had never fully committed to 'Lincoln' and decided last fall LA couldn't afford it. Revenue was $46.8 million in 2023-24, up from $40.8 million in 2022-23 but down from $47.1 million in 2021-22. 'Expense and income ratios for the next season were coming more into focus,' he said. Met general manager Peter Gelb said an additional workshop of 'Lincoln' will be scheduled to make up for the loss of the LA dates. It will be the Met's 32nd world premiere. LA Opera's 2025 productions James Conlon will conduct three of LA's five main stage productions at Dorothy Chandler Pavilion in his final season as music director, ending a 20-year run. He leads Francesca Zambello's staging of Bernstein's 'West Side Story,' first seen at the Houston Grand Opera in 2018, to open the season on Sept. 20. Conlon then conducts a revival of Lee Blakeley's 2013 staging of Verdi's 'Falstaff' starting April 18, 2026, and Barrie Kosky's 2012 staging of Mozart's 'Die Zauberflöte' from Berlin's Komische Oper opening May 30. The season also includes revivals of Herbert Ross' 1993 staging of Puccini's 'La Bohème' and Philip Glass' 'Akhnaten' in a Phelim McDermott production first seen at the English National Opera in 2016. 'A victory lap for James,' Koelsch said. 'He has been music director for over half of the organization's history. The musical priorities of the company and its musical maturity and the sound of the orchestra and chorus are a creation of his expertise and imagination.' The five main-stage productions match 2024-25, down from six in the prior two seasons and a high of 10 in 2006-07. LA will present two world premieres at smaller venues: Sarah Kirkland Snider's 'Hildegard,' based the writings of Benedictine abbess Hildegard of Bingen, at The Wallis in Beverly Hills from Nov. 5-9, and Carla Lucero's 'The Tower of Babel,' a new community opera that Conlon will conduct at the Cathedral of Our Lady of the Angels on May 8 and 9. Koelsch hopes to hire Conlon's successor ahead of the 2026-27 season. Ronald Blum, The Associated Press
