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Review: Eugene Opera’s Nixon in China
Posted on March 19, 2012

From the mezzanine at 2:15 p.m. Sunday, just before it started.

I loved the Eugene Opera’s daring, amusing, smart, challenging production of Nixon in China. If I could see it every day for a week, I would.

Sadly for me, that tremendous effort – the rehearsing, the choral practice, the designs, the costumes, the tech rehearsals – ended when the curtain fell at 5:37 on Sunday afternoon, just about three hours after it all began. This is always the case with the Eugene Opera, which produces usually two shows a year (though I’d rank the semi-staged Il Trovatore, the extra show of 2009, up there with the best things I’ve seen in Eugene) with two or three performances of each show. I’ll save for another day my encomiums to the effort, because effort is not all – performance is all, in this case, at least for the audience members who pay $40 to $90 to see the opera. And in this case, the performances were well worth the money.

Once, when I was attending a fabulous arts journalism fellowship right at the beginning of the hemorrhaging of arts journalists from newspapers (we were the canaries in the coal mine; by the time the economy crashed in September of 2008 and then ad revenues crashed along with it, we were mostly long-gone, or a deeply endangered breed), I got schooled by Anthony Tommasini of the New York Times for reviewing a Handel opera as if it were theatre instead of opera. After Act I of Nixon in China, the guys sitting behind me said, “It’s more like a play than an opera, isn’t it?” (They didn’t say that after Act III, though, so I don’t know if they were still thinking it.)

Therefore, I know it’s possible that one of the reasons I liked this staging, and the Met’s 2011 HD broadcast staging, of Nixon in China is that the entire thing is more like theatre. It would be a postmodern-ly absurdist play, a play that wings off into poetry – Pat Nixon’s “This is prophetic” aria, more like an incantation, in Act II makes for a sweet, naïve, absurd, lyrically lovely late 20th-century reworking of “Howl” and it reminds me of Wallace Stevens’ ”Emperor of Ice Cream” – and a fully sung play. As music director Andrew Bisantz wrote in the program, “Nixon and his operatic entourage were not meant to be viewed as characters in a music-hall parody; rather, they were to be seen as historical and dramatic archetypes, as in the historical plays of Shakespeare and the operatic representations of ancient history by G.F. Handel.”

Also, I’m a believer in preparing for operas. The music isn’t usually super-duper complex in operas, but a. there’s a lot of it and b. I get very sleepy with music I don’t know well (I mean symphonic music & for that matter, chamber music – not pop/rock/alt so much, because, lyrics and short songs).

And it’s not as if Nixon in China has the advantage of its arias accompanying dramatic scenes in movies – because it’s newer (1987) and in English (that is, not mysterious), it’s not going to accompany a battle scene, or a romantic scene, the way many Italian opera arias do. OK, and it’s also because many people aren’t used to John Adams’ music. I overheard people saying “It was atonal!” or “It had no shape!” during/after the opera – I don’t agree with either analysis, but I understand that if they’re expecting Carmen, that’s not happening. I find Adams’ music plenty tonal – but that’s a whole big discussion I’m not musically qualified enough to have … others welcome to contribute here. If I think of tonality as the music having some central theme, then I can say I did enjoy hearing a theme from the first chorus repeat several times during the opera, the first time my ear has picked that out, probably because it was live and also Bisantz may have emphasized it a bit.

Anyway, I was prepared, particularly for the opening and for “I am the wife of Mao Tse Tung,” which is an aria of surpassing weird/wonderfulness. That preparedness helps. Also, I’m patient with performances. I’ve only ever walked out on one performance in my life, a god-awful theatrical production that made me furious with its stupidity, so I guess I’m not one to leave after the first act of an opera (apparently, many people did – which is a shame, as the second act is fabulous).

Musical interlude: I’m listening to this version of “This is prophetic” and smiling as I write this – “Let Gypsy Rose kick off her party shoes … let businessmen speculate further … let the expression on the Statue of Liberty change just a little; let her see what lies inland.” Oh, Pat Nixon! The things you miss in this scene! Such brilliant writing by poet Alice Goodman.

But back to the Eugene Opera’s version, which took a united effort from a rather stunning number of people in and out of Eugene. First of all, the scrim. The gorgeously printed, monumental scrim – I assume designed by scenery designer Peter Beudert – and the light on Nixon (Lee Gregory, whom we’ve seen in Don Giovanni as Leporello and The Marriage of Figaro as Figaro) as he gets changed/dressed in the plane. Speaking of that plane, I’m not sure what happened – I was under the impression there was a plane, but that was from a conversation with Bisantz and opera executive director Mark Beudert before Carmen in December, so anything could have occurred. In this case, it was weird after seeing the Met’s version not to have a plane on stage, but that moment of disappointment went away quickly as Gregory distracted the audience with his smile and waving.

… and I just realized that what I want to do is relive the entire opera as I write this. Not useful, Suzi. FYI, if you want to see the full Houston Opera version from 1987, it’s available on YouTube – in 17 parts – starting here:

So some of my favorite things about this performance and the libretto/score in general:

Mark Beudert has a lovely voice! And he was good as Mao. Not even close to frail, the way the usual Mao is played. But I want Mark to sing more and exec less. Well, that’s not true; I think he (with others) has done a superhuman job making the Eugene Opera a going concern again.
Ben Goodman of the Eugene Ballet choreographed the piece and danced in the Revolutionary Ballet scene. I am so pleased to see Ben in yet another Eugene performing arts group. Also, he whipped that Eugene Opera chorus into doing tai chi and singing – that was amazing (and no, he didn’t actually use a whip … in the tai chi scene, anyway).
The second act, wow. I want to see that second act again and again. Kelly Kaduce, whom we (and the Portland Opera) have enjoyed onstage several times before, didn’t have a Pat Nixon-like wig the way all of the other Pats I’ve seen (on the screen) have, but she made Pat seem like a party-loving, not-too-bright, sweet – and put-upon – woman, and of course, as usual, I enjoyed her voice.
In the Pat-on-tour scene, she charmed the audience with her ability to interact with the bicyclists, the children … and the pigs (I’m not kidding; that was fun, and as Mark Beudert said in his curtain speech, this was the first time the Eugene Opera had to thank Sweet Briar Farms “for livestock management”). And the juxtaposition of Pat’s wide-eyed attempts to connect to the workers with what they sing when the big elephant’s on the stage … wow. Killer libretto, Alice Goodman.

Then Laura Wayte made Chiang Ch’ing/Madame Mao such an impatient, annoyed, strong, intense personality in the ballet scene, not to mention her big “I am the wife of Mao Tse Tung” moment.
Why and how is this such a memorable/stunning/holyshitdidthatjusthappen aria? I don’t entirely know, but damn. The 2011 Met version:

The third act was a bit odd. It’s a different staging – as is the entire Eugene production, by (totally cute, not that I’m a strong judge of the men) stage director Sam Helfrich – than the Met’s staging, and I was at first waiting for the beds. Where were the beds? I mean, Peter Sellars talked about the beds being like coffins! I wanted the beds – nNot Kissinger (a befuddledly excellent Michael Gallup), Chou En-lai (Christopher Burchett, whom we’ve seen sing Masetto in Don Giovanni and Count Almaviva in The Marriage of Figaro), Pat, Dick, Mao and Chiang Ch’ing in a post-party alcoholic funk at separate tables, slumped and out of it and lonely. Which was what we got. WHERE ARE THE COFFINS, SAM? was the thought bubble above my head.
Then I snapped out of it. I liked this staging. Part of the excellence of the third act (though not all of my companions felt this way or enjoyed that bleakness, trailing off into despair/nothingness) comes from the distracted, isolated, separate, weird, overlapping parts of the libretto. Who’s talking? To whom? Why? Why are they retelling stories they’ve told over and over?

Well, exactly.

I thought the orchestra performed well with this score. I know it’s a monster. When I said back there that usually operas don’t have super-duper complex music, I didn’t mean this opera. At least that’s the impression I got from some of the musicians, and from Bisantz when I briefly spoke to him at rehearsal. It wasn’t perfect, but they did well.
Some of the costumes (the secretaries, Pat, Dick, Henry, Mao) were gorgeous. Sometimes the chorus looked like it had simply brought clothes from home, but other times, it was a little more identical. I would have preferred a more similar look for all chorus members, all of the time.
Eugene Ballet! I think those dancers were all company members of yours? Well done. Nice collaboration (or just sharing?).
As some of you know, the opera just … ends. It’s not triumphal. It’s not big. It trails off. I loved that a lot … and then it took way too long to get the whole cast up there for curtain calls. Hey, if you’re not there in time, too bad. You don’t get to bow. (Unless you’re a principal, of course, in which case … yeah.)
I know some people didn’t like John Adams’ music. In addition, I heard that on Friday night, there was a lot of backstage noise – as in, things crashing around. I say that means not enough rehearsal time (as they are all too aware – and as I suspected, which was why I bought tickets for Sunday). I know that the chorus, though it did its best, occasionally looked sloppy and/or slapdash, even on Sunday. I know that a few scenes were awkwardly staged, at least with the chorus. (I also know that the people behind me and to the right needed to shut the hell up – “Honey, look! THAT’S PAT NIXON!” Yes. Thank you. Arglesmack.)

All of that is fair criticism. But overall, this was a moonshot for the Eugene Opera. Yes, like Nixon, I have to think of the Apollo astronauts .. ahem. Though it may not be reflected in ticket sales, the opera made it to the moon and back. I hope the board sucks it up, finds more sponsors and keeps on going because from this audience member’s point of view, it was well worth the effort.

Published in the  Eugene Register Guard March 18, 2012.

By Marilyn Farwell

With its production of John Adams’ “Nixon in China,” Eugene Opera took a great leap forward. By attempting this challenging modern opera, the company took a risk that could have catapulted it into oblivion; instead, its successful gambit exhibited an artistic maturity beyond many of our wildest dreams.

For a relatively small company to go beyond repeating another “La Traviata” or “La Boheme” demands a formidable effort. Singers know those old roles; drapery sets exist for an asking price.

Eugene Opera, however, rethought Adams’ opera from scratch: New sets and costumes were designed and built, and musicians, both vocal and instrumental, had to learn an entirely new musical idiom.

The vocal quality on Friday evening was exceptional. Kelly Kaduce as Pat Nixon led a group of fine singing actors. Kaduce was easily as good as the excellent Janis Kelly in the Met’s HD simulcast of this opera last year. Kaduce’s warm, incisive voice and acting skills made Pat Nixon’s lyrical aria in Act II the vocal highlight of the evening.

But other singers were not far behind. Lee Gregory played Nixon with vocal subtlety and his usual virile acting. Two local artists Laura Decher-Wayte and Mark Beudert, if I am allowed to call our peripatetic general director local, were vocally vigorous and commanding in their roles as Madame Mao and Chairman Mao. Christopher Burchett‘s regal baritone carried Chou En-lai. In the buffoon role of Henry Kissinger, bass Michael Gallup landed on his feet.

Supporting singers also were spot on. The three secretaries, who repeat and write down every word Mao utters, no matter how nonsensical, were played by a vocally precise trio, Bereniece Jones, Amanda Crider, and Lina Delmastro. The chorus under the direction of John Jantzi handled Adam’s demanding rhythmic schemes with assurance.

Conductor Andrew Bisantz must be given the credit for having the orchestra in tremendous shape and for effectively coordinating everything. Whatever glitches there were in this rhythmically complex music, and there were some, especially at the very end, nothing detracted from its overall success.

In an effort to move away from the literal depiction of Nixon’s 1972 visit to China on which most productions are based, director Sam Helfrich, set designer Peter Beudert, and costume designer Jonna Hayden opted for a psychological approach.

The unit set of large wooden panels with blue stripes effectively evoked the monumental scale of this event while the direction and wide-ranging costumes underscored the all too human dimension of characters, especially their public and private divisions. Some scenes, such as Act I, scene I, were cleverly re-envisioned but in others Helfrich grabbed for humor in unlikely places.

I didn’t see any psychological depth either in the depiction of the drunken Nixons doing the twist at the end of the banquet scene or in the boozy last act. The ballet was cleverly staged, roping in chorus members to augment four well trained dancers.

The opera was a fitting conclusion to several weeks of extraordinary events surrounding the anniversary of Nixon’s visit to China.

The man who saved modern music

Autobiography of John Adams takes us on a journey of musical magic

BY MARILYN FARWELL

For The Register-Guard

Published: ThursdayMar 15, 2012 05:00AM

On the cover of his 2008 autobiography, composer John Adams poses with a look of self-satisfaction, arms folded as he glances down at the camera.

As one of America’s best-known composers, he has a right to feel pleased with himself. His compositions are commissioned by the likes of the New York Philharmonic and the Los Angeles Philharmonic. He conducts new music, particularly his own, around the world, and two of his operas have been produced recently at the Metropolitan Opera.

“Hallelujah Junction: Composing an American Life” is a superb autobiography that allows us to witness the journey Adams took to arrive at his own musical style, a type of music that will be on vibrant display when Eugene Opera presents his first opera, “Nixon in China,” on Friday and Sunday.

Although many opera lovers dismiss operas written after Giacomo Puccini and Richard Strauss as atonal and dissonant, Adams’ 1987 opera gives us listenable music with recognizable tonal chords and arpeggios, what music critic Alex Ross of The New Yorker calls “present-tense American Romanticism.”

Adams, who won the Pulitzer Prize for music in 2003 for “On the Transmigration of Souls,” his tribute to the victims of Sept. 11, 2001, was born into a musical family in New England and, not surprisingly, was a musical prodigy.

He mastered the clarinet by the time he was a teenager and recounts his boredom with the music and the technical challenges of the clarinet, which, as a former clarinetist, boggles my mind.

His tastes in music, even at a young age, were eclectic. His parents played big band music, and he loved rock and jazz as well as Ludwig van Beethoven.

When he entered Harvard, he jumped into the world of mid-century academic music dominated by the atonalism and serialism of the Second Viennese School of Music, what Adams later called “crabbed, pedantic modernism.” It was the first type of music he would slough off because of its limitations.

Adams also began his conducting career at about the same time, something that led him most recently to mount the podium of the Metropolitan Opera’s presentation of “Nixon in China.”

Like many Easterners of the 1970s, Adams headed to California after college and found the music scene in San Francisco liberating.

While experimenting with a synthesizer and conducting new music in California’s Bay Area, he discovered radical American composer John Cage.

Cage’s music depends on pure chance and wallows in a “democracy” of chords and notes instead of the hierarchal tonal system of the Western musical tradition. In high doses, his music is not only limiting but intentionally boring.

Adams’ “aha” moment came from an unexpected encounter, listening to Richard Wagner’s “Götterdämmerung.”

It is difficult to imagine the avant-garde Adams listening to this six-hour opera, but when he did he was struck not only by its harmonic surprises but also by its sincerity.

Instead of Cage’s aesthetics of boredom and serialism’s hyper intellectuality, Adams was drawn by the emotional pull of Wagner’s music.

Armed with a new respect for what most of 20th century music distrusted — traditional harmony and musical pleasure — Adams turned to the tonal chords of minimalists such as Phillip Glass. Only under the influence of this much more approachable music did Adams begin to write operas.

In the end, minimalism also was too limiting. What sets Adams apart from Glass’ sometimes mind-numbing repetitive structures are the variety of his forms, harmony and, especially, rhythm.

“Ripped from the headlines”

An invaluable portion of this book recounts the development and intentions of Adams’ operas.

Opera director Peter Sellars was the first to suggest an opera on the improbable topic of President Richard Nixon’s visit to China. Since then, Sellars and Adams have became collaborators.

They now seem to specialize in operas “ripped from the headlines,” such as the “Death of Kinghoffer,” about the hijacking of the Achille Lauro and most recently “Dr. Atomic,” about the night before the first atomic bomb blast near Los Alamos.

For the first two operas, they brought in brilliant poet and librettist Alice Goodman. It is she who refused the easy satire or cartoonish depictions of Nixon, first lady Pat Nixon, Chinese leaders Mao Zedong and Zhou Enlai, not to mention Madame Mao.

In fact, Adams notes that any production of this “Nixon in China” must be done with subtlety, not satire.

Most autobiographies of contemporary notables are ghostwritten. But Adams, like Renée Fleming in “The Inner Voice,” writes intelligently of his own journey to find a unique musical idiom.

Along this journey, he depicts with intriguing insights most of the musical developments of the 20th century.

For those of us who will hear “Nixon in China” this weekend, it is an invaluable book and, not incidentally, a joy to read.

Marilyn Farwell, a professor emerita of English at the University of Oregon, reviews vocal and choral music for The Register-Guard.

Copyright © 2012 — The Register-Guard, Eugene, Oregon, USA

Actually, these are our Three Secretaries to Chairman Mao in our production of Nixon in China:  Lina Delmastro, Bereniece Jones, and Amanda Crider.  The photo is by Brian Davies for the Register-Guard.Image

CULTURAL REVOLUTION

“Nixon” is not your typical spectacle

BY BOB KEEFER

The Register-Guard

Published: ThursdayMar 15, 2012 05:00AM

Nixon is the one. “Nixon in China,” that is. Composer John Adams’ contemporary opera, first performed in 1987, might be the most challenging production Eugene Opera ever has taken on.

In theory, it could be a hard sell.

First, of course, it’s a story about Richard Nixon in a town that went big for his liberal Democratic opponent, George McGovern.

And naturally, we’re talking opera — not an easy sell to the majority of football-­obsessed Eugene residents.

And then, even among classical music lovers, this is minimalist opera, with a sound that’s about as far from Giuseppe Verdi or W.A. Mozart as, say, Thelonius Monk is from the Monkees.

But once you get past all those superficialities, “Nixon in China” is actually a lot easier to get into than your typical three-hour Italian spectacle.

The music is unfamiliar, but it’s really easy to listen to, even the first time around.

The songs are in English. And unless you’ve been living in a cave all your life, you’re probably familiar with the basic outlines of the story.

In 1972, President Nixon startled the world by opening up trade with our longtime Communist enemies, traveling to what was then called Peking to seal the deal.

Take that basic, almost Shakespearean plot line, add in such characters as first lady Pat Nixon, Secretary of State Henry Kissinger, Chairman Mao Zedong (usually spelled in the West as Mao Tse-tung in those days) and his Premier Zhou Enlai (Chou En-lai), and you have a tale as rich and embroidered as anything Richard Wagner could have imagined.

Rhythmically very tricky

The music may be easy enough to listen to, but it’s devilishly hard to sing.

“Rhythmically, it’s very tricky,” said Lee Gregory, the baritone who will sing the role of Nixon. “There are a lot of major changes, and mostly there are a lot of misplaced accents.

“It’s very easy to get lost.”

Gregory has appeared twice before with Eugene Opera, singing Figaro two years ago in “Le Nozze di Figaro” and Leporello in 2009’s “Don Giovanni.”

Like most of the cast — none of whom has performed “Nixon in China” before — Gregory is too young to remember Nixon as president.

“I’ve done a lot of research, though,” the singer said. “There is a lot of footage of him. My only memories of him are post-presidency. He was almost a caricature of himself.”

“Nixon in China” is opera, not documentary, so there is no need for singers to look exactly like the historic figures they portray.

“We are not treating this as a historic re-­creation,” Gregory said. “I don’t bear much resemblance to Richard Nixon. The character is in the piece itself, in the text.

“There are some stumblings and stutterings that I am able to use to bring out the character. What has been interesting for me is to approach the character more from the inside out.”

Playing the first lady, Pat Nixon, will be soprano Kelly Kaduce, who sang Countess Almaviva here in 2010’s “Figaro.”

Pat Nixon is a much more introspective character, Kaduce says, than the heroic figures around her.

“She is very optimistic and — what’s the word I’m looking for? — she’s not naive, but she always looks at the bright side of life.”

Beautiful and enigmatic

The opera’s libretto, by poet Alice Goodman, uses language that can be both beautiful and enigmatic.

Kaduce quoted some lines from “This Is Prophetic,” an aria she sings as Pat Nixon:

Across the plain one man is marching —

The Unknown Soldier has risen from his tomb;

Let him be recognized at home.

The Prodigal. Give him his share:

The eagle nailed to the barn door …

“There’s a little bit of James Joyce there,” she said with a laugh. “You might need a pamphlet to go along with it to explain the words.”

She agreed wholeheartedly with Gregory about the challenge of singing Adams’ music.

“It wasn’t too tricky to learn, pitchwise. But rhythmically it’s incredibly tricky. It’s not that it has meters that are difficult to decipher, but the fact that they change so quickly, and the way it sounds in your ear.

“For example, Adams will have a three-four bar, but you’ll sing it in two. It sounds like a jazzy two, but really it’s three, over the top of this two-bar.

“You can’t ever just relax!”

No 747 this time

Eugene Opera’s “Nixon” will differ in an immediately obvious way from previous productions, in which a Boeing 747 lands on stage to begin the story.

Mark Beudert, Eugene Opera’s general director (and the tenor singing Mao in this show) decided early on that creating even a stage version of the airplane was simply too expensive.

Instead, the show will open with a large, lighted scrim, behind which the figure of Nixon gradually will become visible. Singing the role of Chou En-Lai will be Christopher Burchett; Michael Gallup will sing Kissinger.

Laura Decher Wayte will sing the role of Madame Mao.

Chairman Mao’s three secretaries, who form a sort of Greek chorus to the proceedings, will be sung by Amanda Crider, Bereniece Jones and Lina Delmastro.

The stage director is Sam Helfrich. Andrew Bisantz conducts.

The choreography is by Benjamin Goodman. Stage design is by Peter Beudert, and costume design is by Jonna Hayden.

Call Bob Keefer at 541-338-2325 or you can e-mail him at bob.keefer@registerguard.com.


OPERA PREVIEW

Nixon in China

What: Eugene Opera produces John Adams’ treatise on President Richard Nixon’s historic 1972 visit to China

When: 7:30 p.m. Friday and 2:30 p.m. Sunday

Where: Hult Center Silva Concert Hall, Seventh Avenue and Willamette Street

Tickets: $20 to $84 at 541-682-5000 and EugeneOpera.com

Copyright © 2012 — The Register-Guard, Eugene, Oregon, USA

The latest contribution for our guest blogger, Lenny Small.

Among the most the interesting periods in the more than 400 years of opera are when one operatic style changes to another. With Nixon in China, a minimalist opera, we are in the midst of one of those major changes. The opera devotees who will be in the audience for Nixon in China, (March 16 and March 18), may not realize it but they will be watching and listening to one of those historic moments in opera.

Opera has gone through a long history of change from its Renaissance beginnings in the 16th century period with the operas of Monteverdi up to the present with the new minimalist operas of John Adams and Philip Glass.  Minimalist  opera is part of the overall minimalism art scene of painting, sculpture and music.  In music, the simplest possible material is repeated many times with small changes that are introduced gradually or with the addition of other simple repetitive material that eventually changes in its synchronization to produce a trance-like effect.  It is often referred to as repetitive music that can become hypnotic.

John Cage  laid the ground work for minimalist opera, but it was John Adams who first put his minimalist opera Nixon in China on the stage of major opera houses  in the United States and England for the first time.

John Adams

I could not have been more rudely awakened than when I heard Adam’s music for the first time at a Met HD/live broadcast of Dr. Atomic.  Thus by the time I went to see “Nixon in China” I was better prepared for a full afternoon of John Adams’ music. After two more viewings of Nixon (it was broadcast on Public Television and I recorded it), I was totally entranced by the work. Up until that time, my entire knowledge of Adam’s music had been limited to his movie scores and Dr. Atomic. Adams was still a new voice to me in the field of opera and I was still remembering the romantic works of Verdi, Bellini and Rossini.  On the other hand, Nixon in China reminded me of the first time I heard Richard Strauss’ Salome with its dissonances and atonality. However, by my third viewing of that opera over the years, I have become so engrossed with its music and that I hardly hear the initial discord that I first remembered.

What makes it so easy to be mesmerized by the score of Nixon in China is the fact that the libretto is based on a piece of current history and involves two very dissimilar political societies. It is difficult to imagine this opera being set to any other type of music and be as effective.

I  urge everyone to attend the upcoming performace of  Nixon in China and see for themselves a new style of opera that will change your thinking of  21st century opera.

UO Today, the Oregon Humanities Center’s half-hour television interview program, provides a glimpse into the heart of the University of Oregon. Each episode offers viewers a conversation with UO faculty and administrators as well as visiting scholars, authors, and artists whose groundbreaking work is shaping our world.

UO Today week of January 9, 2012:
Bryna Goodman, professor, Modern Chinese History, and Mark Beudert, director, Eugene Opera, discuss the 40th anniversary of Nixon’s visit to China and the opera Nixon in China presented by the Eugene Opera on March 16 and 18, 2012.

Eugene schedule:
Channel 23-Wednesday 8 p.m.; Friday 5 p.m.; Sunday 7 p.m.
Channel 29-Tuesday 11:30 p.m. and Wednesday 11:30 a.m.

Portland schedule:
Channel 29 (Portland Community Media)-Wednesday 8:30 p.m. and Friday 6:30 p.m.
Comcast Channel 27 and Verizon Channel 35 (MetroEast Community Media)-Monday 12 p.m.;
Tuesday 4 p.m. and 8 p.m.; Wednesday 5:30 p.m.; Thursday 3:30 p.m.; Friday 6 p.m.;
Saturday 12 p.m.; and Sunday 6:30 p.m.

The online link to watch this is:

http://media.uoregon.edu/channel/2011/11/29/uo-today-495-bryna-goodmanmark-beudert/

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