[lab_heading title=”Hair.”]UP Stages.[/lab_heading]

As the final number “Let the Sunshine In” swells to a climax, and the overhead projections, which previously had been archival photographs or footage of napalm bombing, change to BLM protesters, consent activists, and other contemporary social issues, the immediacy of production becomes clear. “At what age did you lose your compassion?” a sign hanging in the balcony questioned. And it’s as valid now as it ever was. In the end, there are no races, no nations, no “other” to fear. There is only The Tribe.
Hair, University of Pittsburgh Stages | Elanor Ruth Smith, Critic – PA Theatre Guide


The theater department’s intense production plans paid off, with the front half of a bus sticking out into the middle of the stage and gridiron columns traced with vines anchoring the set. The rest of the show’s effects rely on video projections, especially in the groovy “Walking in Space.” The tribe gets high, and the stage itself turns into a magnificent lava lamp, painting the whole room in a host of trippy colors, the stage shining with orange, red and blue.
Hair, University of Pittsburgh Stages | Matt Maielli, Citic/Senior Staff Writer – The Pitt News


All this nudging builds to the finale when the cast joins hands, singing “Let the Sun Shine In,” a symphonic flower child anthem of hope. During the song, there’s a projection of images from the present: young black men with hands up, police lights shining off their faces, as well as protesters hoisting signs that read, “REAL MEN DON’T RAPE” and “REFUGEES WELCOME, RACISTS GO HOME,” fully realizing the timelessness of “Hair.”
Hair, University of Pittsburgh Stages | Matt Maielli, Citic/Senior Staff Writer – The Pitt News

[lab_heading title=”Nine.”]UP Stages.[/lab_heading]

It’s like Moulin Rouge meets the circus meets a French Italian Party…Amazing light design and sets…beautiful little film noir moments… they flash back on them… and there are moments of some of the actresses…while there singing their song. Nine is a TEN!
Nine, University of Pittsburgh Stages | Nancy Mimless, Critic – ‘Burgh Vivant

[lab_heading title=”All Quiet on the Western Front.”]Prime Stage Theatre.[/lab_heading]

The utter arbitrariness of war is a recurring theme. There are no playing favorites on the battlefield. The town’s champion gymnast, Franz, almost immediately loses a leg and dies slowly post-amputation. Projection designer Joe Spinogatti thoughtfully utilizes subtle projections of a wartime hospital floor in the background. They remind us that while we trace Franz’s story, he is one in a sea of many.
All Quiet on the Western Front, Prime Stage Theatre | Tiffany Raymond, Critic – PGH in the Round

[lab_heading title=”Tommy.”]Pittsburgh Playhouse.[/lab_heading]

Some opening scenes are great, with the parachutes coming down – because his father goes [off] to war in the beginning; it’s like 1941 or 42.
Tommy, Pittsburgh Playhouse | Nancy Mimless, Critic – ‘Burgh Vivant

[lab_heading title=”The Giver.”]Prime Stage Theatre.[/lab_heading]

Joe Spinogatti’s stunning video projections are played across of 26 panels hung on the back wall of the stage like a hip 1960s TV variety show, and become increasingly crucial to the impact of the performance, right to the ending.
The Giver, Prime Stage Theatre | Stuart Shepard, Critic – Pittsburgh City Paper


Video designer Joe Spinogatti and sound designer Angela Baughman vividly enliven the memories the Giver imparts to Jonas in images projected on the rectangular screens and sound effects that immerse us in the memory with him – the sound of wind and snow, of a horse’s gallop, of laughter and music at a birthday party.
The Giver, Prime Stage Theatre | Wendy Arons, Critic – Pittsburgh Tatler, Assoc. Professor – Dramatic Literature at Carnegie Mellon University

[lab_heading title=”Avenue Q.”]UP Stages.[/lab_heading]

There was a couple of really stand out moments. One hilarious moment was [when] they had a graphic of five night stands and they’d say five, four, three two, one night stand!
Avenue Q, University of Pittsburgh Stages | Nancy Mimless, Critic – ‘Burgh Vivant