What could be better tonic in this summer of our national discontent than TriArts’ revival of “Hairspray,” that bouncy, happy musical extolling all-American values: resilience, determination, fair play and victory for the underdog? When chunky Tracy Turnblad bounds about the stage exuding optimism, she’s like a cheerleader for the America we miss. Like a chubby tank with something resembling a lacquered animal on her head, Turnblad lives in a mini world that centers on the Corny Collins TV Show, which allows teenagers to dance on camera and maybe even win the Ultra-Clutch Hairspray Company’s annual Miss Teenage Hairspray Contest. Tracy, regularly forced into detention hall by an unsympathetic principal, rushes home daily to watch the show and dream of becoming a regular. But if the play resembles “Grease” and “Fame,” it is wittier, funnier, better natured; and — without pretension — it is more socially and morally aware. It is also unashamedly sentimental, like a greeting card that makes you remember good times. The play, with book by Mark O’Donnell and Thomas Meehan, is a paean to being different, whether fat — like Tracy and her bloated mother, Edna — or black, like Motormouth Maybelle, her son Seaweed and his friends in segregated Baltimore. So Tracy’s goal isn’t only to get on the Collins show and beat her Barbie-doll schoolmate, the plasticized Amber, for the Miss Hairspray crown, but to integrate the Collins show beyond its one Negro Day each year. To do both, she will have to best the show’s producer, Amber’s ruthless, ambitious, bigoted stage mother, Velma. Given Amber’s comic book meanness and Velma’s spiritual void, we know from the beginning Tracy will succeed. But we don’t know that Tracy’s efforts will change Edna, who, embarrassed by her weight, never leaves their apartment; Link, the singing and dancing heartthrob on the Collins show who mesmerizes Tracy; or Motormouth and the black kids who loiter in her music store. Surprisingly, the show spoofs itself with a witty script and sophisticated jokes: As whites invade Motormouth’s music store, a black kid declares, “If we get any more, it’ll be a suburb.” And when Tracy wonders what comes after detention hall, another inmate declares, “Congress.” The music is based on 1960s rock and doo-wop. Songs spring directly from the story and are mostly very good, even memorable. (You’ll likely sing snippets of “Good Morning, Baltimore” for days.) TriArts has cast “Hairspray” from strength. Katie Sarno’s Tracy is an endearing dynamo with a big voice and great timing. Al Bundonis, in the drag role of Edna — memorably played on Broadway by gravel-voiced Harvey Fierstein and in the movie by John Travolta — builds from perhaps too much restraint in the first act to more in-your-face, over-the-top acting in the second. And he’s dynamite in the finale. As Link, handsome Michael Schultz boasts a mile-wide smile and a good Elvis imitation. Amy Leblanc’s Velma is the quintessential stage mother remembering her own brush with fame as “Miss Baltimore Crabs.” Kara Dombroski’s Amber is all shrill laughter and maliciousness, while Kaitlyn Frank’s Penny Pingleton blossoms from malapropisms and thick glasses into a femme fatale in a tight red dress. Jo’Lisa Jones gives Motormouth (who frequently talks in rhymed couplets) dignity and a big voice. Stephen Wormley’s Seaweed is a long, tall stalk of energy, the best dancer on the stage. And TriArts’ favorite, Michael Britt, is Wilbur Turnblad, the perfect short and charming foil for Bundonis’s big Edna; their duet is a show-stopper. Sarah Combs’s direction is a puzzle: While she mostly moves her large cast well, there are times when the show goes flaccid. The same is true for Cindi Parise’s choreography, usually energetic and tight, occasionally loosey-goosey. Erik Diaz has designed a set that recalls “Ed Sullivan Show” and “American Bandstand” backgrounds. Costumes by Lindsay R. Forde are right-on nostalgic. And the superb Lee Harris gives the musical direction verve and an authentic sound. “Hairspray” runs at TriArts’ Sharon Playhouse through Aug. 21. Call 860 364-7469 or go to www.triarts.net for tickets.
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Artist Victor Cella with his recent painting “White Dog” in his studio and shop, Little Store Antiques in Great Barrington.
L. Tomaino
Cella greets visitors while talking with a fellow painter who comments about his work and Cella himself: “Eclectic, amazing! Victor is decidedly loved in the community and exhibits to everyone his completely open heart.” She added, “He inspires the rest of us who paint.”
Cella began devoting himself to painting about four and a half years ago. He remembers taking art classes in high school. He had finished all his credits early and was allowed, in his senior year, to take art for four hours a day. He credits his art teacher, Mr. Owen, with giving him a good foundation in art.
“Now that I paint, I rely on my teacher’s words: ‘To unify a painting, pick a color and wash it over the painting,’ or, ‘You need to mix the colors!’”
He won a scholarship to New York University to study art, but his parents said no.Instead, he attended North Adams State College, where he also took an art class at Williams College, repeating a pattern from high school in which he finished his required credits early and used the extra time to study art.
He earned a teaching degree in special education and ended up working in schools in Massachusetts and Connecticut for 37 years. He retired in 2019.
Then, four and a half years ago, he got the urge to paint, and the paintings flowed out of him.
He has sold 757 paintings, with 95 of those sold since May 7. “I am having bizarrely good luck with my paintings.” He estimates he has painted 2,000 paintings in four and a half years.
He modestly attributes his success to “I sell low and I have a built-in client base of 51 years,” he said, referring to recurring customers in his antique shop. “A billion people give me feedback.” He has two patrons who each have several of his paintings. “Unbelievably,” says Cella, “one person owns 32 and the other owns 27.”
His studio is in the back of the shop. He paints now on 16-by-20-inch canvases, some of which he recycles, finding them at Goodwill.
Cella’s paintings are tucked in almost every available space thoughout Little Store Antiques. L. Tomaino
To keep his painting fresh and himself interested because, as Cella explained, “I can’t stay with one idea for long,” he has gone through several phases: crazy dogs, grids, flowers with black backgrounds, a geometric phase and “weird people.” The “crazy dogs,” as he calls them, are popular now. One person bought eight, left to go to her car and came back for a ninth, spotted in the shop’s window — the one that brought her into the shop in the first place.
He may even illustrate a children’s book with the “crazy dogs.” A local author liked them so much she asked Cella if he’d illustrate a story about three dogs if she wrote one.
Cella was also approached recently by a person who said, “Do you know you were my favorite teacher?” She came into The Little Store, attracted by the paintings in the shop’s window. It turned out the former student owns Crystal Essence on Railroad Street in Great Barrington and has asked to sell Cella’s paintings there.
Cella, who will soon be selling the building where The Little Store is located and move it nearer to his Southfield home, was glad to be offered a new venue for his paintings.
An artist he knows, Scott Prior, a painter from Nantucket, bought one of Cella’s paintings and gave him this advice: “Never go to art school. You are an artist. Let it pour out of you.”
Cella said, “You have to follow your own path.” He mused, “If I taught art, I’d teach it in a different way. I could teach it as an awareness — how to free yourself up.”
To see more of Cella’s work, visit The Little Store (88 Main St.) or Crystal Essence (39 Railroad St.) in Great Barrington.
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