Friday, April 1, 2016

Margin Notes: The Crucible

Elizabeth Teeter, Saoirse Ronan, Tavi Gevinson, Ashlei
Sharpe Chestnut, and Erin Whilhelmi as Betty Parris,
Abigail Williams, Mary Warren, Susanna Walcott, and
Mercy Lewis. Photo by Jan Versweyveld.
The Crucible

Seen on: Monday, 3/7/16.
My grade: A

Plot and Background
In the Puritan village of Salem, Massachusetts in 1692, even dancing is considered unwholesome. So when young Abigail Williams and her friends are caught dancing in the woods, they divert attention away - to the specter of witches bedeviling them. What starts as one lie spirals into a wildfire hysteria, as more than 400 are arrested and many executed when they refuse to confess. Farmers John and Elizabeth Proctor, who dismissed Abigail from their service after John's indiscretion seven months prior, fear the vengeance of a spurned girl, while newcomer Reverend Hale tries to decipher the truth from the lies. Arthur Miller first wrote The Crucible in 1953 as both a dramatization of the Salem Witch Trials and as an allegory for McCarthyism. Though received with some critical hostility, the play won the Tony, and is now considered a classic, performed and studied in high schools across the country. It has been revived several times, and adapted for film, television, and even the opera.

What I Knew Beforehand
My high school, like every high school in America, did the show when I was a sophomore (I played Mercy Lewis and have been disappointed in the milquetoast portrayals I've seen of her in every subsequent incarnation).

Thoughts:

Play: It's difficult to watch a play you've worked on before - I actually find it nearly impossible to see productions of A Midsummer Night's Dream at this point. You go in with so many preconceptions of how it should be done (or sometimes emotionally scars for how badly things went that one time), that it can be hard to separate the experiences. However, this production was so consummately well done, that my main moments of "Hey, wait a sec!" were reserved for the two small deleted scenes (for those who care, Abigail and John in the woods; and Sarah Good in the prison). The physical space is both gritty and nonrepresentative (a schoolroom's furniture rearranged to be used as a farmhouse, a court, a prison, etc.), the aural space alternately dreamlike or nightmarish. There are a lot of choices being made here, and I find the majority of them effective - dressing the girls in school uniforms, having the actors playing the Proctors use their own accents to show their otherness to the rest of Salem, making it clear that while the intellectual conflict is between Hale and Danforth, the emotional center of the piece lies in the Proctors and their very human relationship. However, there is one choice to which I still can't reconcile myself, as it seems completely counter to the author's intent - the manifestation of magic (or hysteria?) in Betty's flight, and the destruction of the courtroom. My mom suggested a reading of it that it is the perception of the townsfolk, seeing witchery where there is none; my initial read was the deliberate question by the production of: "but what if magic?" and that's ... that's not what's going on here. And if my mom's reading is correct, then that lens needs to be made a heck of a lot clearer to the audience, so we know whether we're intended to be seeing something canonically in the narrative, or a hallucination. We're not given that lens, and I don't think I buy it. It's an aesthetically dramatic choice, to be sure, but it's not dramaturgically sound. However, I think it's quite the feat that - ignoring these missteps - I was completely enthralled and horrified by a script I knew all too well. This production is excellent.

Thursday, March 24, 2016

Margin Notes: King John

Isaac Miller as Bastard. Photo by David Andrew Laws.
King John

Seen on: Wednesday, 3/23/16.
My grade: B+

Plot and Background
King John, recently inheriting his throne from his deceased brother Richard the Lionhearted, holds his crown with a tenuous grasp - challenged by France and Austria, who back his nephew Arthur as the rightful heir to follow Richard to the throne. Through a mixture of force, diplomacy, a bad run in with a Cardinal, and some underhanded manipulation, John struggles to maintain his power against overwhelming odds. King John is presented by Hamlet Isn't Dead, a Shakespeare company dedicated to performing Shakespeare's works in chronological order. They are partnering with Mary-Mitchell Campbell's organization, Artists Striving to End Poverty, on this production.


What I Knew Beforehand
I'd read the play but never seen it, and I've worked on one of Constance's monologues fairly recently. I knew that the company had cast a woman in the title role here, intending to explore how the threats to her crown played against her role as a woman surrounded by men in this production. I've also seen a few of Hamlet Isn't Dead's productions (and reviewed their Richard II).

Thoughts:

Play: It's rather a strange play, I realized midway through. Perhaps not atypical of Shakespeare's histories (I'd have to research it), the force and flow of the various players takes precedent over any intense character study of the titular monarch. Perhaps Richards II and III spoiled me for thinking I'd be getting some soliloquies from our King, but I was disappointed to realize how little I was being let in to John's rationale. Most of what we see of John is her public role, that of courtly behavior and kingly proclamations - only in the latter half of the play, when she first schemes for Arthur's death and then regrets that scheming, do we get any sense of the inner workings of John as a person. We get more of the Bastard's inner thoughts than any other character onstage (so perhaps it's appropriate he and John share the final bow here). Moving along from this, while King John may not be the most engaging of Shakespeare's histories, this is a thoroughly engaging production of it - streamlined to just over two hours, it is efficiently-paced, clearly presented, and overall entertaining. Director Lisa LaGrande stages it in my favorite style (thrust), and effectively crafts dynamic stage pictures where everyone has a good view of the action. Each act begins with a throwback - a dumb show, a gestured dance on the worship of power - and she finds a moment of poetry within the narrative, too, in young Arthur's attempted escape from prison. The battle is perhaps the least effectively staged, in terms of communicating either danger or a narrative, but that is a minor complaint in a highly competent production. For those who haven't seen this rarely-produced history, this is definitely worth catching.

Monday, December 21, 2015

15 for '15 - My Top Theatrical Experiences This Year

Daniel N. Durant as Moritz in Deaf West's Spring Awakening.
Photo by Kevin Parry.
We don't need no stinkin' rules! Especially not rules that limit me to choosing only 10 shows for 2015. That's just cruel and unusual punishment. And, as I'm not an accredited journalist, and this is my house, we're doing 15 for 15 this year.

I'm quite proud to report that my attendance bumped up from last year - I saw 130 shows in 2015, and when we remove the repeats, it comes out to 121 unique shows - only one fewer than I saw in 2013, and 24 up from last year. It's been an odd mix this year - some truly extraordinary theater, including the groundbreaking work by Broadway's biggest nerd, Lin-Manuel Miranda - but the Fall season on Broadway, at least in terms of straight plays, was oddly disappointing. However, Off-Broadway picked up the slack, there's still plenty of good work to remember from this past Spring, and loads to anticipate for 2016.

So let's get started. (and before anyone calls the dogs out on any shows I omitted, the list started at 32 for the year, which I then had to painstakingly cull down to its present length)

Honorable Mention: I can't officially include Hedwig and the Angry Inch on this list, since the production made my '14 list last year, but if I didn't include John Cameron Mitchell's incredible performance in the role he created, I'd be doing a disservice to all of us. I saw him only after his injury early in his run, but even hobbled as he was by multiple knee braces, his Hedwig was a terrifying and heartbreaking force of nature. The role (and the show) transformed under his care, running a good twenty minutes longer from all the riffing and adlibbing. This was Hedwig as I knew her from before - bitingly cruel one moment, sweet and loving the next. A deeply-bedded river of bitterness ran through her, even as she valiantly soldiered on, crutch tucked under her arm. And oh god, the moment JCM opened his mouth in the first song, sounding just like he did twenty years earlier, I started to cry. (I feel it would be remiss if I did not also mention the fact that my friend Marissa received the infamous car wash treatment when we attended together - without a doubt, an unforgettable evening).

Friday, December 4, 2015

Margin Notes: POPTART!


Seen on: Thursday, 12/3/15.
My grade: B+
Monique St. Cyr and Allison Strickland as Monique Jackson and Anna Martin.
Photo by Patricia Phelps.

Plot and Background
Monique Jackson is a rising singer-songwriter star acting out the role of a spoiled diva for anyone who will tolerate her. James Pearce is a gifted songwriter with a lofty view of the business of show. When Monique's assistant Anna maneuvers a meeting between the two to negotiate a collaboration, personalities collide in a big way. POPTART! is a new play by Krystle Phelps, co-founder of Girl Just Died, a NY-based theater company "dedicated to bringing to life new, exciting, and honest work that heavily features a variety of voices."

Disclosure, and
What I Knew Beforehand
I've worked with - and am friends with - director Gwenevere Sisco. Beyond that, I'd seen and reviewed her previous collaboration with Krystle Phelps, James Parenti, and Monique St. Cyr, May Violets Spring.

Thoughts:

Play: There's always something rather thrilling about a real-time play with an approaching deadline. As Monique stalks about her dressing room, primping, drinking, changing clothes, writing "Bitch" on her mirror with lipstick, we know she has a performance (to a pre-recorded "live track") at an unspecified awards show only moments away. This is borrowed time: a chemistry meet with a new collaborator, dodged calls from her mother slash former manager, and a showdown between a diva and her only friend. Time seems to both expand and contract around moments - music plays and everything holds still. Tragedy strikes, and the show must go on. While Monique does her best to drive everyone away, there remains a moment of hope at the end - perhaps she recognizes that she is worth saving, after all. The final performance is thrilling, a release for both Monique and the audience.

Saturday, November 14, 2015

Margin Notes: Aftermath

The cast of this is my (trigger warning). Photo by Bobby Alford.

Seen on: Friday, 11/13/15.
My grade: B-.

Plot and Background
Aftermath is two one acts presented as part of Ivy Theatre Company's 2015 Trellis Project, a page-to-stage partnership with playwrights. this is my (trigger warning), an Ivy ensemble original piece conceived and directed by Audrey Alford, presents the female experience with PTSD through physical and vocal exploration. Reach, by Ryan Sprague, takes place in New Orleans one year after the devastation of Hurricane Katrina, to explore the lasting effects on one woman who refuses to leave.

Disclosure, and
What I Knew Beforehand
I've worked with and greatly admire Audrey Alford, the creator of this is my (trigger warning), the first of the two pieces, and I've contributed money to Ivy's fundraising. Beyond that, I knew only that it was an evening of two short pieces.

Thoughts:

Although the two pieces are vastly different in tone and content, their themes are (obviously) connected - an exploration of the aftermath of intense trauma - and thus work in conversation with each other. While the language of the first piece is largely breath and movement, those are the healing tools Leila lacks in the second piece. She relies on words - unread letters she faithfully composes daily, a fierce armor against all of Jordan's efforts to reach her - she is frozen, unable to breathe, unable to move from her home except for her daily pilgrimage to visit her comatose husband. What's really remarkable about the conversation of these two pieces, then, is how both resolve - in Reach, Leila begins to heal through her connection with Jordan, with her ability to finally breathe and change; in this is my (trigger warning), the women who have been having their own private crises in isolation, weeping and contorting, find strength and their center by joining in singing, "she was never crazy," and building together a creature that is equal parts silver-armored strength and a finally-chrysalized butterfly. In terms of that conversation, the evening is successful; however, individually, each piece is rather lacking on its own. this is my (trigger warning) is perhaps a bit underbaked - what language there is, is rather sparse and never particularly explicit - while it's clear each woman is dealing with the after-effects of trauma, the nature of the trauma or its lingering savagery of their psyches is never clarified. However, the seeds are there for a longer piece, for something poetic and affirming - it just needs shape. Reach, meanwhile, has definite craft in the structure of its narrative, but it's hindered by somewhat stilted dialogue and a too-repetitive pattern of tactics by its characters.

Both pieces make excellent use of the space - in tim(tw), the windows that back the playing space are uncovered, allowing the occasional passing traffic - both sound and lights - to penetrate our consciousness, the always-threatening outside world lingering outside the cocooned women. Reach, meanwhile, scatters Leila's unfurnished apartment across the space, littered with books and dying plants, and places the door to her apartment - the bridge to an outside she can't bear to see - completely behind the audience, as outside our experience as it is hers.

***

Running: Now playing at Lucid Body House (Ivy Theatre Company) - Opened: November 5, 2015. Closing: November 21, 2015
Category: two short pieces
Length: 1 hour, 40 minutes, including intermission.

Creative Team

Playwrights: Ivy Theatre Company (this is my (trigger warning)) w/additional collaboration by Diane Chen and Shoshanna Richman; and Ryan Sprague (Reach)
Directors: Audrey Alford (tim(tw)) & Andrew Block (R)
Designers:  Audrey Alford (Costume - tim(tw)), Kitty Mortland (Costume - R), Jorge Olivo (Sound).
Cast: Audrey Alford, Phoebe Allegra, Ciarah Amaani, Alexandra Moro, Jeanne Lauren Smith (tim(tw)); Katie Braden, Christopher Lee (R)

Phoebe Allegra in this is my (trigger warning). Photo by Bobby Alford
*note: no production photos for Reach were available at the time of writing this*