Sabrina Pratt, a professional comedienne, improv coach and comedy director visiting from Chicago joins the Charlotte Comedy Theater to offer this special long-form improv intensive. Learn to be the actor, writer and director working collaboratively to create an ensemble piece of artful story-telling. For those looking to improve their existing improv skills and learn some new techniques- this is the class for you! 150.00http://www.charlottecomedytheater.com
Come join Villa Antonio (south blvd) for our Holiday Wine Tasting $20- 5 wines, FREE appetizers and live music... $20http://www.villaantonio.com
Scott Allen Jarrett conducts the chorus and orchestra for this special holiday performance. $19.50-$69.50
A collision of alt-country vixen Lindi Ortega’s snappy sass and Dusty Springfield’s soul-baring belting, Rachel Kate piqued interest as lead vocalist of Charleston’s rail-jumping, rollicking (and now defunct) rock ’n’ roll outfit Shaniqua Brown. Her 2013 debut solo LP With Love & Hate ditches the raw guitars and radical rhythms of SB for a stripped-down but still-intense mix of accordion, jangly acoustic guitar, shuffling drums and richly sawing cello. The result is like sweet tea spiked with ’shine, a concoction of sizzling ‘n’ sleazy Delta blues, fragile country waltzes, Nick Cave’s spindled and mutilated murder ballads, the hazy goth afterburn of Lee Hazlewood and a nostalgically sunny down-home tune penned by her father, Dave Gillon. Singing about optimism and rejuvenation along with “crybabies” and “somber assholes,” Kate splits her solo disc between paeans to love and outpourings of anger. Taking the stage in tattoos and a hand-sewn country craft dress, Rachel Kate evokes the hardscrabble Americana folk of Gillian Welch, the cow-punk tension of Cary Ann Hearst and the classic theatrical country of Patsy Cline. No paper-thin drama queen, Rachel Kate has plenty of authentic brass and compassion.
Though boxed in by descriptors like “doom pop” and “bubblegum metal,” Miami’s heaviest, most harmonious foursome Torche have refused to stand still. Boasting vocalist/guitarist Steve Brooks’ patented (and gimmicky) “bomb-string” assault — guitars down-tuned so low that the strings practically dangle off the bridge — Torche has evolved from the low, viscous roar and grimy-massed guitars of the Melvins in its sludge metal phase to a still-blistering attack that folds the shiny “Mr. Showbiz” pop-smarts of David Lee Roth into a surprisingly stable mix of ’90s Green River grunge, ’70s bong-water backwash from stoner forebears like Lord Baltimore, and the space-rock of Hawkwind. The acrimonious 2008 departure of guitarist Juan Montoya seems to have unleashed the pop-metal tune-smith in Brooks, with brisk, perky songs slicing through the tar pits, delivered in Brooks’ appealing everyman bellow. Current buzz cut “Kicking” marries the muscular mod rock of early Futureheads to bright and squiggly Eddie Van Halen-meets-Brian May guitars. Perhaps Brooks’ decided his best way forward is embracing his inner Diamond Dave.
Santa and his associates are an open book in David Sedaris’ The Santaland Diaries. The essay turned one-man seasonal stage fare made its jolly debut on an NPR broadcast. In the midst of classic holiday material, this tale polishes the ugly side of Christmas as seen through the eyes of an unemployed writer working as an elf at a department store. Yes, it sounds terrible, and yes, it is, as we learn through our protagonist’s experiences, loathing and gradual loss of pride. But listen closer to the deadpan delivery from the man with pointy ears and little green shoes and you’ll feel the full effect of Sedaris’ critique on consumer culture. This is something we tend to forget while shoving our way through the mall and swiping our plastic. Robin Tynes directs and Scott A. Miller stars as Santa’s pissy and pessimistic little helper. For more information on Three Bone Theatre, visit www.threebonetheatre.com. (Anita Overcash) $20