We are Love
All of Us. It's what we're made of.
The feel good photography of Cole Ramstad and Anna Bonnet.
All Images © RamstadBonnet 2012 unless otherwise noted.
RamstadBonnet@gmail.com
-
Fela!
An amazing theatrical experience. Hell, and amazing life experience. If you can, please go see Fela on Broadway, staged by the great Bill T. Jones.
Photo: Monique Carboni
A tiny play that packed houses off Broadway for a few months grew into a show with enough talent and energy to be called up from the minor leagues, and given a marquee at the Eugene O’Neil Theatre on 49th between 7th and 8th. The placement is entirely warranted. Fela is pure fun.
Fela Kuti was a musical prodigy, a Nigerian revolutionary, a lover, a fighter for justice, and one of the most influential musicians of the 20th century. Fela showed the world that music was, in fact, his weapon. His music was a blow straight to the jaw of the tyrannical Nigerian government, and the world has never seen a human have so much social impact with his art.
The show is just that. A show. Fela, played by Sahr Ngaujah, is doing his last show at The Shrine, the club that Fela built and packed nightly. The story is told mostly via a biographical and fantastical monologue, which excavates an enormous amount of energy from the soul of Ngaujah. His performance is seriously incredible. It might as well have been Fela up there. The rest of the show is comprised of some of Fela’s most prolific songs, and danced hard by a troupe of insanely in shape, colorful, and ridiculously talented dancers.
All night I wondered how I could go to a show like this and not stand up and dance. Antibalas was the orchestra, and they have a history of making anyone they come in contact with get the funk down. I”ve seen them a few times, and their funk blows my mind every time. Halfway through the first act, my wonder was quelled. Fela had us up dancing in the seats, giving the audience times to hit with their hips. 12 o’clock - 6 o’clock. Front-back. 3 o’clock - 9 o’clock. Right to left. The cast basically gave lessons on breaking it down.
“Four One Nine!” He shouted, and then laughed as no one could really execute. 419 also happens to be the Nigerian police code for fraud, a reoccurring villain in the show, as vivid portraits of international governments were painted.
This show was so strong. One of the strongest original shows I’ve ever seen. The music, the dancing, the story, the underlying, and not so underlying, themes of power, greed, corruption and the will to stand up and fight it.
I have so much to say, but I’ll cut it short, and say that it just feels great. So if you’re around, go on and get to it. It’ll be more than worth your while.
