The first thing that strikes you at “Here Lies Love,” David Byrne’s participatory pop musical about Imelda Marcos, is a color. As befits the summer of “Barbie,” the entire Broadway Theatre (the venue’s actual name) seems to have been submerged in a grenadine cocktail: pink L.E.D.s in the lobby’s chandeliers saturate the white plasterwork, and, farther inside, the space has been reconfigured into a huge warehouse-style disco, pulsing with fuchsia and purple neon. The audience members braving the dance floor appear to be swimming in raspberry sauce, herded by ushers in magenta jumpsuits, who wave pink light-up traffic batons. The d.j. (Moses Villarama) supervises a preshow beat that goes oomph-oomph-oomph. We see pink with our eyes closed; even the shadows are having a hot time.
After the introductory hype—we make some noise when the d.j. tells us to—we meet Imelda (Arielle Jacobs), the sixteen year-old Rose of Tacloban, a small-town beauty queen who will swell into a self-mythologizing co-despot of the Philippines. For decades, Imelda and her husband, the President and eventual dictator Ferdinand Marcos ( Jose Llana), embezzled billions, a level of state theft that needed nine years of brutal martial law in order to operate at scale. But, the disco vibe implies, that doesn’t mean we have to have a lousy night! A swift, ninety-minute retelling of Filipino history from 1945 to 1986 plays out in danceable songs by Byrne, who first released “Love” as a concept album, in 2010, co-written with the d.j. slash beatsmith Fatboy Slim. (Tom Gandey and José Luis Pardo also collaborated on certain songs with Byrne.)
Diese Geschichte stammt aus der July 31, 2023-Ausgabe von The New Yorker.
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Diese Geschichte stammt aus der July 31, 2023-Ausgabe von The New Yorker.
Starten Sie Ihre 7-tägige kostenlose Testversion von Magzter GOLD, um auf Tausende kuratierte Premium-Storys sowie über 8.000 Zeitschriften und Zeitungen zuzugreifen.
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YULE RULES
“Christmas Eve in Miller’s Point.”
COLLISION COURSE
In Devika Rege’ first novel, India enters a troubling new era.
NEW CHAPTER
Is the twentieth-century novel a genre unto itself?
STUCK ON YOU
Pain and pleasure at a tattoo convention.
HEAVY SNOW HAN KANG
Kyungha-ya. That was the entirety of Inseon’s message: my name.
REPRISE
Reckoning with Donald Trump's return to power.
WHAT'S YOUR PARENTING-FAILURE STYLE?
Whether you’re horrifying your teen with nauseating sex-ed analogies or watching TikToks while your toddler eats a bagel from the subway floor, face it: you’re flailing in the vast chasm of your child’s relentless needs.
COLOR INSTINCT
Jadé Fadojutimi, a British painter, sees the world through a prism.
THE FAMILY PLAN
The pro-life movement’ new playbook.
President for Sale - A survey of today's political ads.
On a mid-October Sunday not long ago sun high, wind cool-I was in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, for a book festival, and I took a stroll. There were few people on the streets-like the population of a lot of capital cities, Harrisburg's swells on weekdays with lawyers and lobbyists and legislative staffers, and dwindles on the weekends. But, on the façades of small businesses and in the doorways of private homes, I could see evidence of political activity. Across from the sparkling Susquehanna River, there was a row of Democratic lawn signs: Malcolm Kenyatta for auditor general, Bob Casey for U.S. Senate, and, most important, in white letters atop a periwinkle not unlike that of the sky, Kamala Harris for President.
