Word: codas
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...plants" on his Maine farm. Peter Yarrow is co-producing a television special about the adventures of Puff the Magic Dragon. Mary Travers spins out solo albums. Ever since they disbanded seven years ago, the folk-singing trio have kept music on their minds, and now comes a coda: a P-P-M reunion. Last week the three announced that they will cut a record and in August they will set out on a monthlong, 17-city tour. "We're living in a different time now, so some of the styles may make some leaps to the side," says...
...succeed spectacularly in their masquerade as males (as do Jean Bonard as the club's waiter, Cookie Harlin as the bellboy, and Catherine cappiello as the maestro). The four women manage to mask their sex completely, making the play's conclusion unexpected and delightful, rather than just a foolish coda to a musical frolic. While the actresses use gestures and facial expressions skillfully, it is their vocal talents that carry the play. The Club's dialogue is almost entirely delivered in song. It is a real challenge to bring off a show that is entirely sung without losing the audience...
...that seemed to be that: the last of the white sahibs and memsahibs taking their bows in a long, engrossing valedictory. Not quite. Staying On offers another look at a locale familiar to readers of The Raj Quartet. This new novel is less a sequel than a graceful comic coda to the earlier song of India...
...play drags in its coda. Because the faces can barely be seen, one hardly can recognize or identify with the characters emotionally. As the tempo lags, the trio slips into acoustical imbalance: Claudy's voice lasts longer, often stronger and more distinct than the other two. Even if slightly bored, one can realize intellectually that the slowdown might be intentional: sonorously and endlessly, consciousness endures. But in that case, the final line of the play is screamed unnecessarily. To be intellectually satisfying, the play needs no punctuation. And because of the nature of Krieger's production, the screaming...
Finally, the night passes, and in a kind of coda the old gaffer's kin arrive at his chateau to help him celebrate his birthday. One now sees the raw material he has been working with. If none of his family has genius, or even an excess of individuality, they all appear to be rather pleasant people, undeserving of the imaginary treatment they have received. The audience is left once again -and once too often-to speculate on the gap between reality and illusionary art, and on the widely alleged necessity for the artist to behave inhumanely. These gaseous...