Consternation: Washington Post theater critic Peter Marks chimes in on the controversy swirling over Shakespeare Theatre's use of racist character names. In Ethan McSweeney's Cuban-themed production of Much Ado About Nothing, two minor characters are named "Juan Frijoles" and "Juan Huevos." Artists complained, and Shakespeare Theatre's artistic director Michael Kahn announced that the names would be changed. If you missed it, here's an analysis by City Paper arts editor Jonathan L. Fischer.

Augmentation: Normally the White House Correspondents Dinner gets all the buzz, but next year's Radio & Television Correspondents dinner wins this round: In June 2012, that event will be hosted by comedian Louis C.K.

Today on Arts Desk: HR-57 is moving again!

For its current production of Much Ado About Nothing, Shakespeare Theatre Company transplanted the comedy to a Cuban sugar plantation circa 1930, and in so doing it renamed two of the play's bumbling bit characters. Instead of Shakespeare's Hugh Oatcake and George Seacoal, director Ethan McSweeny gave Washington audiences Juan Huevos and Jose Frijoles. Eggs and beans. Seriously.

Obviously that wasn't going to fly.

The Huffington Post reports that Huevos and Frijoles are now Oatcake and Seacoal once again, following complaints from, well, folks who apparently have at least a modicum of good taste. STC's artistic director, Michael Kahn, basically admitted that the artistic choice had no defensible grounding: "There was no harm intended by the production," he wrote to Tlaloc Rivas, a Mexican-American playwright who organized a letter-writing campaign against the staging. "I also want to assure you that your letter has increased the sensitivity of all of us...and in the future The Shakespeare Theatre Company will be very conscious of the concerns your letter raised."

The names have already been changed on Shakespeare Theatre Company's website. WaPo theater scribe Peter Marks (who criticized the character names in his Dec. 6 review) tweeted that the physical programs will reflect the change later this week.

Character names aren't the only thing the production bungled. As HuffPo reports, the play's marketing materials including the tag "Cha-cha-cha down to the Shakespeare Theatre." City Paper critic Rebecca J. Ritzel also took issue with the casting. "It seems worth noting, at the risk of sounding like a postcolonial killjoy, that there’s only one Hispanic actor in the cast, and that only the lower-class characters speak with Cuban accents," she wrote in her review. "Everyone else sounds fresh off the boat from Great Britain, speaking in clear, digestible pentameter."

STC's audience enrichment manager, Hannah J. Hessel, tried to turn the brouhaha into a teachable moment on the company's website, explaining the original impulse and posing a series of questions meant to inspire dialogue:

The names that Shakespeare chose were a joke about regional rustics within England, utilizing puns on regional food and industry from their place of origin. It was perhaps meant as a stereotype on those communities, but it is also meant to be telling about the characters and their background. Relevant to the new setting, the hope was to find a similar joke that could reflect Cuban society in the 1930s. The joke may not have entirely succeeded, even if the impulse wasn’t to disparage Latin Americans it still unintentionally invoked racial stereotypes. Those stereotypes can make Latino audience members feel like outsiders and connect to possible existing prejudices within a minority of audience members.

The name switch didn't work for two reasons, I think: 1) It turned a very specific joke about class into a very broad joke about ethnicity; 2) it wasn't very smart or funny. Sure, Shakespeare penned plenty of ugly depictions. But rather than using a specific ugly depiction, Shakespeare Theatre Company attempted to transplant the spirit of that ugliness to another time and place, and failed.

Of course, Shakespeare makes modern audiences squeamish all the time. Most contemporary versions of The Merchant of Venice, for example, deal with the anti-Semitism of Shakespeare's depiction of Shylock by finding a way to make the character more sympathetic. To the contrary, I admired Shakespeare Theatre Company's take on it last season: Instead of offering a more complex Shylock, that production made all the other characters just as despicable.

In her article, Hessel raises what I think is a separate, though related, point about casting:

At [a Shakespeare Theatre Company] symposium, Ana Serra, author of The New Man in Cuba: Culture and Identity in the Revolution and American University professor, commented that her discomfort with the production (which she otherwise highly enjoyed) was that it did not take the Cuban setting far enough. One example she described was the desire to see the class system broken down by racial lines. It didn’t make sense to her that Don Pedro, the prince, was played by an African American, while many of the serving class were white. “On a plantation,” she said, “you expect to see the division of race.” If in our casting, we had chosen to make those choices, I wonder, would we have been admired for creating a world that historically reflected sugar plantations in Cuba or would we have been criticized for racial stereotyping?

Well, it depends. If the depictions are exaggerated without purpose—or ugly and illogical, as in the case of the names "Huevos" and "Frijoles"—then the company should be criticized. But there's nothing wrong in making casting decisions based on race, as long as you have thought-out, thematic reasons to do so. In moving the play to Cuba, McSweeny teased out its class-related themes. Since, as Serra pointed out, this particular class system had a racial element, colorblind (but largely white) casting mostly just muddles that theme.

Arena Stage played host Saturday evening to some super-wonky yakking that started out with 140-character thoughts on theater but quickly expanded to cover all aspects of theater journalism. Peter Marks, The Washington Post's sometimes curmudgeonly lead critic, and Howard Sherman, a former executive director of the American Theatre Wing and prolific blogger and tweeter, took their long-running dialogue off Twitter and into a live setting in Arena's Kogod Cradle. It was verbose, gregarious, dare we say even a bit weird.

The whole thing started over the course of several months, as Marks and Sherman repeatedly got into it in 140-character bursts about the theater industry, the role of social media, and the nature of criticism. On his personal website, Sherman posted the transcripts of two arguments previewing the in-person showdown. Marks and Sherman had never meet before last Friday, but first engaged each other on Twitter when Sherman saw Marks "say something on Twitter I thought was preposterous," though neither could recall Marks' offending statement.

But once the conversation got beyond Twitter's universal accessibility, Marks and Sherman, moderated by American Theatre magazine editor Jim O'Quinn, went deeper, and it was clear we were seeing a match of wits between a sometimes prickly newspaper-of-record critic and a sometimes unctuous "theater evangelist."

Well, maybe it wasn't that epic, but Marks and Sherman each won a few rounds for themselves:

On the Role of Critics: Forgive us if it seems like cheering for the home team, but Marks won this one by default after Sherman accused critics of "writing for themselves." Not true if one considers arts criticism a form of service journalism, which it totally is. Just as writers and actors do their things for their audiences, critics review with their readers in mind. But only a default win for the WaPo critic? Marks declined to challenge Sherman on this argument, passing up a key opportunity for a knockout blow.

On Mission Statements: It's close, but we'll have to give a slight edge to Sherman. Though Marks was right to defend Shakespeare Theatre Company for presenting something as decidedly non-Bard as Fela!, he dismissed the notion that DMV theatergoers value area companies' specialties, such as Roundhouse Theatre Company's knack for literary adaptations, Solas Nua's Celtic habits, or the late Cherry Red Productions' many depravities.

On Awards: Here, Sherman raced to the defense of his former employer, the American Theatre Wing, which is probably best known outside of Midtown Manhattan as the organization that puts on the Tony Awards. Except the Tonys are a strictly Broadway affair, heavy on jukebox musicals and celebrity casting—Marks couldn't remember which Jonas Brother will soon replace Daniel Radcliffe in How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying, and does that even matter?—whereas nine of the past 10 Pulitzer-winning plays originated in regional theaters. And Sherman was also wrong in saying that the Tonys are the only nationally televised event devoted to theater. In fact, this week, the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade will, as ever, kick off with an hour-long revue of Broadway numbers. Yes, the Macy's parade is usually more Jersey Boys than Sweeney Todd, but it's something besides the Tonys.

On Michael Kaiser: The loser? Michael Kaiser, who last week posted a now-infamous column for The Huffington Post in which he tried to defend "legitimate" criticism from the entirety of the Internet and proceeded to get his ass kicked all over the Internet. "I would love to sit him down and show him how to use Twitter," Sherman said.

On Leg Patting: Sherman. In making a few of his arguments, Marks tapped Sherman on the knee and arm as if to say, "No, dear Howard, here's why you're wrong." Sherman called Marks out on it, jokingly, to a chorus of awkward laughter. Not that some people in the audience didn't try to make it more awkward.

The Real Loser: The D.C. theater community. For all the praise heaped on Washington-area companies, directors, and writers, "Theater Beyond Twitter" involved three guys who live in New York.

OTHER MUSIC

Tonight, laptop jockey Balam Acab—he of the new-agey chillwave Lana Del Rey remix—plays Subterranean A. alongside Run DMT and Happy Family. It's a house show, so I won't drop the address. Think of it like a fun mystery, and you're the detective! 7:30 p.m.

Attention all 20-somethings who used to hang out at The Corner Kick: Long-dormant rock & roll outfit The Shakedowns plays a reunion show at Black Cat tonight with their old buddies The Alphabet Bombers. (As a teen, I estimate I saw both these bands about 30 times.) Sweep your hair into a pompadour and join in. Also on the bill: Nervous Impulse and the Do-Likes. 9 p.m. $10.

And finally, Fugazi's Joe Lally also gigs at Cat this weekend, still milking his latest album Why Should I Get Used To It. You may recall our reviewer Joe Warminsky quite liked it. Sunday at 8 p.m. with All Praises and Helen Money. $10.

Tonight and tomorrow, Stew and Heidi (formerly of great band The Negro Problem) drop by Studio Theatre to perform Stew's songs for Passing Strange, his rock musical about a young black man who finds his spiritual and artistic self in Europe. 8:30 p.m. both nights. $35.

But tonight's biggest party might be at Howard, when Chuck Brown touches down at the Cramton Auditorium. Doors open at 8 p.m., and tickets are $20 plus fees on Ticketmaster.

Having released music under various monikers for the last 15 years, Maria Taylor is no wide-eyed newcomer. The Alabaman has left her mark on the folk scene as a solo artist and as half of the disbanded, then reunited, Azure Ray. But recently, Taylor has explored personal places that Azure Ray eschewed in favor of more ambient sounds. In August, she released her fifth solo effort, Overlook, whose country elements reveal her Southern roots, but don’t outshine the dreamy folkiness that built her reputation on Saddle Creek. Taylor is not terribly innovative—or nearly as famous as her labelmate Bright Eyes—but she has a subdued talent that matures with age. 8:30 p.m. Saturday with Dead Fingers and The Grenadines at the Rock & Roll Hotel. (Emily Thompson)

BOOKS

In his latest book, The Table Comes First: Family, France, and the Meaning of Food, The New Yorker's Adam Gopnik tackles two dominant schools of thought in the dining world: that of high-science molecular gastronomy and that of locally grown, earthy, organic slow food. Through it all, he weaves a narrative about his family's life (and eating habits) in Paris. Gopnik speaks at 7 p.m. at Politics & Prose tonight. Free.

THEATRE

Twitter comes to life: WaPo theater critic Peter Marks and former American Theatre Wing director Howard Sherman consummate their Twitter relationship at Arena tomorrow evening, discussing topics sure to include "the significance of a resident theater staying on mission, the value of audience enrichment events in tandem with productions, the pros and cons of celebrity casting, the nature of theatrical awards, the impact of social media on arts journalism and the role of the press in a theater’s marketing and public outreach." Phew! A meaty slate. 5 p.m. Saturday. $10.

DANCE

Fans of Spanish dance are probably well in the know by now, but for those behind the news: Don't miss this weekend's flamenco program at Gala.

And as always, you may find more weekend inspiration on our semi-comprehensive A&E event calendar.

Art Adoption Agent: Last week, Lenny Campello tried to find some local art collectors willing to give these life-size angel sculptures a new home before their owners would be forced to destroy them. He writes in an email that he found some angel collectors.

Wale Sighting: Pitchfork sees the aural success of Wale's Ambition as proof positive of Maybach Music's ever-growing dominance.

Today on Arts Desk: Literary D.C.!

Marilyn Abrams, producer and cowriter: We’ve had an incredible amount of young people come to the show and an incredible number of first-time theatergoers. So you have to think they’re going to say, "I went to the Kennedy Center."

Arch Campbell, reviewed Shear Madness for WRC-TV: It’s sort of a cross between a cabaret or a small nightclub and a real comedy like Noises Off. I think it’s great for the Kennedy Center. I think it helped open up the Kennedy Center, and who knows? Maybe it hooks people for real theater.

Kim Peter Kovac, built the Shear Madness set: I haven’t done the survey—If they come to Shear do they come to something else?—but they come here.

Robert Warren, associate producer from 2000 to 2009: It’s an introduction to the theater. Pieces that are an introduction to theater from family nights to productions are school-appropriate. It’s tough to find those things.

Peter Marks, Washington Post theater critic: I don’t know if it’s a portal into the theater experience. I taught a class at George Washington University about the Washington theater scene. I had a student whose entire theater experience had been Shear Madness. He imagined all theater was like that.

Bob Mondello, Washington City Paper theater critic: Low-rent theater is something I have trouble being terribly upset about. It was my way in to the theater—I went to musicals long before I went to Shakespeare.

Warren: I saw it twice at the Kennedy Center before I started working there. My boys were eight and 11 at the time and we laughed and laughed and laughed. Some of thing things the younger kids get is the physical humor and the innuendo goes right over their head and when you’re an adult you get that stuff.

Campbell: Tickets are expensive. I thought it was a good move for them to open up the Kennedy Center. They have the Millenium Stage. They have free concerts every night. They’ve had a wider variety of stuff at the conert hall. And I think that Shear Madness opened that up. I think it helped loosen them up a little bit.

Mondello: My theory about this is that if you go to Cats and you have a wonderful time and years and years later you see Cat on a Hot Tin Roof expecting the same experience and you think it’s OK, then Cats did its work.

Mondello, re-reviewing Shear Madness in last week's issue: The perceived problem has always been its status as an open-ended engagement at the grand marble shoebox on the Potomac River that is our national temple of the arts. Still, audiences have been embracing froth for centuries, and chasing Philistines from temples is thankless work. ... it may be best to regard Shear Madness as the theatrical equivalent of an entry-level drug, and hope the adolescent who screeched at intermission that this was the “best play I’ve ever seen!” will graduate someday to the comparative sophistication of The Fantasticks.

Looking at the 2011-2012 season, Kennicott says the KenCen's arts programmers are guilty of

failure to collaborate with other blue-chip arts organizations in Washington, failure to capitalize on the academic and intellectual heft easily available in the Washington area and failure to keep Washington abreast of the major innovations and trends in the performing-arts world.

He goes on for a while, and then four of the paper's critics pile on: Sarah Kaufman says KenCen's self-proclaimed "huge" dance season is really a grouping of oft-mounted old faithfuls. Peter Marks says the theater season is too heavy on touring musicals, with not enough emphasis on new American playwrights. Anne Midgette writes that KenCen's upcoming season has some big names, middlebrow taste, and a weak-sauce festival spotlighting Vienna, Prague, and Budapest. Matt Schudel is kindest, but says KenCen's jazz programming could still use more breadth and depth. Several of the critics compare the Kennedy Center to that other big multidisciplinary arts center, Lincoln Center, and praise the latter for mounting brave productions across the disciplines. But braveness is spread in, they write, across the Kennedy Center's offerings.

In other words: Kennedy Center just got punished for playing it too safe. While much of its upcoming fare—like touring productions of Billy Elliot and Les Miserables—is probably critic-proof, it's hard to imagine arts consumers not taking notice of three pages of WaPo haterade. It's not often that five major arts critics—one of whom has a Pulitzer—tell a major arts institution to grow some balls.

I can't wait to read Kaiser's Huffington Post column tomorrow.

Update, March 14: Blargh. Keiser's column today is about Zanzibar.

The Announcement: Shakespeare Theatre Company's 25th season, which begins, per tradition, with a summer Free for All performance (Julius Caesar) and then continues with David Ives' new Regnard adaptation The Heir Apparent, Much Ado About Nothing, The Two Gentlemen of Verona, Eugene O'Neill's Strange Interlude, Carlo Goldoni's The Servant of Two Masters, and The Merry Wives of Windsor. Also: two concert-style performances of musical interpretations of Shakespeare, The Boys From Syracuse and Two Gentlemen of Verona, a Rock Opera; a 12-hour reading of the "Henry VI" trilogy; and several events in which STC Artistic Director Michael Kahn and actors will discuss the Bard.

The Strategy: A very common one, in which The Washington Post's Peter Marks had the scoop before the rest of us had the announcement in our in-boxes (it arrived in mine at 3:48 p.m., hours after I'd seen the Post article). But STC offered lots of nifty hooks with its announcement: a big anniversary, the feting of Kahn, the out-of-the-box pair of musical offerings. All of that makes for an easy sell to the Post.

The Highlights: STC always does great things with French farces, so Ives' The Heir Apparent adaptation—a world premiere—should be worthwhile. And STC's recent Candide softened the hardened heart of this musical skeptic, so the company's "Bard's Broadway" programs could surprise. The performance of Galt McDermot's Two Gentlemen of Verona, a Rock Musical runs concurrently with the Lansburgh Theatre production of Two Gentlemen of Verona, the non-rock musical, which could be either a fascinating pairing or a totally grating one. Special nerd points to the "Henry VI" readings. Very cool.

The Give-a-Damn: I mostly give a damn.

There are plenty of reasons for an arts critic to leave town—say, vacation. OK, OK, all critics should see what's animating the national conversation from time to time—it can broaden and inform their perspective. But sometimes it feels like The Washington Post's reviewers are spending a bit too much time consuming art in other cities, especially New York—this despite the Post's 2009 reorientation as a paper focused on politics and local news. With editorial budgets tight and plenty of in-town art that escapes the Post's eye, we offer this regular series, in which we determine how much of the Post's travel budget ought to have gone to an individual review. At one end of the budget spectrum: Acela. At the other: Hitchhiking.

Reviewer on the Road: WaPo chief theater critic Peter Marks, reviewing the accident-prone, much-delayed, headline-grabbing $65 million Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark in New York.

Invoice Argument: Shit, it's Spider-Man! In the age of the critic-proof mega-musical, this is the biggest ever—and involves talents like director Julie Taymor and U2's Bono and The Edge. It was national pop culture news even before its long string of accidents and delayed openings. And undoubtedly, many Washingtonians will venture to New York to see this thing. They ought to be warned, as Marks dutifully does, that Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark is the one of the worst musicals of all time.

Budget Hawk: Several things. 1) Being the biggest musical of all time means it's also probably the most-reviewed musical of all time—this despite the fact that most theater-goers willing to shell out the gazillion dollars tickets to Spider-Man go for probably aren't interested in the opinions of stuffy theater critics; 2) it probably would've been too parochial, but Marks ignores the one D.C. hook here: that the casting of Patrick Page in the musical actually disrupted the programming of the Shakespeare Theatre; and 3) a decimating review should showcase critics at their most rhetorically nasty (read: the collected works of Anthony Lane), and Marks shorts his readers, I fear. He writes:

The 8-year-old boys in the audience might be able to key on the Cirque du Soleil-style stunts on wires and video-game graphic elements, and probably not worry too much that "Spider-Man" is a tangle of disjointed concepts, scenes and musical sequences that suggests its more appropriate home would be off a highway in Orlando. Come to think of it, the optimal audience might be non-English-speaking.

Pretty good, but I was hoping for far more (ahem) venom. Critics, like the rest of us, are plenty capable of Schadenfreude. See Ben Brantley's Spider-Man review, from yesterday.

The Verdict: Yeah, the Post totally had to weigh in on Spider-Man—even though its opinion and those of every other powerful critic in the country will do nothing to curtail the success of this beast. Marks gets to go, but he has to travel on a faulty Goblin Glider, and if the Post is wise enough to film that, I will happily give it a retweet.