Tag: Tony Cisek

  • Review: ‘Nell Gwynn’ at the Folger Shakespeare Theatre

    Review: ‘Nell Gwynn’ at the Folger Shakespeare Theatre

    Nell Gwynn (1650-1687) was not only one of the most talented actresses in Restoration Theatre, but also one of the most beloved. That was because “pretty, witty” Nell, as diarist Samuel Pepys called her, was an irresistible combination of comic invention, personal kindness, and unceasing good humor. She was a cherished mistress of the “Merry Monarch”, Charles II (1630-1685). Brought up in poverty, she went from being an orange seller and likely prostitute to one of the most idolized actresses of her time.

    Alison Luff as Nell Gwynn and R.J. Foster as King Charles in ‘Nell Gwynn’ at Folger Theatre. Photo by Brittany Diliberto.

    Charles II was restored to the English throne in 1660 after nine years in exile. He was known for his intelligence, unreliability, and love of entertainment. He subsidized two acting companies, the King’s Players, which he sponsored, and the Duke’s Players, sponsored by his brother James, then the Duke of York. Charles introduced actresses to the English stage after seeing them at the French court (female characters in England were played by men until the Restoration) and became the most powerful of Nell’s many admirers.

    British playwright Jessica Swale has turned Nell’s story into a celebration of life in the theatre. Nell Gwynn premiered at Shakespeare’s Globe in 2015 and won the Laurence Olivier Award for Best New Comedy in 2016. Director Robert Richmond’s production is visually opulent, and, like the era it embodies, full of wicked fun.

    Nell’s first lessons in acting and love come from a prominent leading man of the King’s Players, Charles Hart. Alison Luff as Nell and Quinn Franzen as Hart share a sparkling chemistry and a knack for the somewhat flamboyant performance style of the era.

    Nell is surrounded by a host of intriguing characters. There is the shyly appealing Ned Spigget (Alex Michell) whom Nell encourages when he is stricken by stage fright. There is Catherine Flye as Nancy, her dresser and confidante, who attempts to inject a note of reality into the proceedings. At times, recognizing that she is dealing with theatre people, she gives up completely.

    Christopher Dinolfo is hilarious as Edward Kynaston, a rival diva who resents the intrusion of actual women onto the stage with their inartistic real figures and profound cultural ignorance. He throws a fit over his motivation during an entrance in which he has a single line. Theatre fans will not be surprised to learn that his inspiration derives from a long-ago childhood trauma.

    Nigel Gore is pleasantly sympathetic as Thomas Killigrew, the beleaguered playhouse manager who must somehow maintain order in the chaotic world of Drury Lane. Michael Glenn offers a strange combination of neurosis and joy as the hapless playwright John Dryden. Hair festooned with feathers (or are they pens?), desperate for approval, he struggles to adapt to the advent of actresses and the many pressures of his role, financial and otherwise.

    Inevitably, Nell’s background intrudes into her newly exalted existence. Her alcoholic mother (again, Catherine Flye) is on hand, comparing Nell unfavorably to the young ladies in the brother she runs. Nell’s sister Rose (Caitlin Cisco) bears the brunt of Ma Gwynn’s dysfunction.

    Alison Luff in 'Nell Gwynn.' Photo by Brittany Diliberto.
    Alison Luff in ‘Nell Gwynn.’ Photo by Brittany Diliberto.

    Charles had numerous mistresses. Regina Aquino plays two of his favorites, Lady Castlemaine and Louise de Kéroualle. As the tempestuous Lady Castlemaine, Aquino excels in her scene with Charles’ much-neglected wife, Queen Catherine (Zoe Speas). The two have a magnificently zany catfight, conducted, in Catherine’s case, entirely in Portuguese.

    Louise de Kéroualle, whom Charles called “Fubbs” was known for her beauty, her mercenary nature, and her baby face. Brought in by the French to fascinate the king, she remained in favor for many years. Luff’s Nell, a commoner, vanquishes her aristocratic rival on the stage: where else? Sporting a gigantic hat, she parodies La Kéroualle. to her face in fractured French. Playing to her king as well as the audience, Luff achieves a kind of lunatic charm which Nell herself would have appreciated.

    Nell’s chief antagonist, Lord Arlington (Jeff Keogh) attempts to force her to give up Charles. But Charles and Nell have a deeper relationship than one might expect. Like Nell, Charles experienced adversity. His father, Charles I, was executed in 1649 at the height of the English Civil War. During the Commonwealth, after his father was overthrown, Charles suffered years of exile and privation. He traveled in disguise, with a price on his head. At one point he was reduced to hiding in an oak tree.

    Predictably, Charles became cynical. But, like Nell, he was capable of kindness. The Penderel family were among the many persecuted Catholics who helped him in his time of need. When he became king, he offered them a pension and a full account of his adventures after he left them.
    Charles was no slouch as a humorist, either. His friend, poet and voluptuary John Wilmot, 2d Earl of Rochester, wrote of him:

    “We have a pretty witty king,
    Whose word no man relies on;
    He never said a foolish thing,
    Nor ever did a wise one.”

    R. J. Foster as Charles is suitably worldly, and somewhat preoccupied. But no one can doubt that despite the enormous power differential, he and Nell have a true romance.
    If there is any justice in the world (Yes, I know) Mariah Anzaldo Hale’s costumes will receive a Helen Hayes nomination. As always with the Folger, the creative team; Kim Sherman (Original Music), Andrew F. Griffin (Lighting Design), Tony Cisek (Scenic Design), and Matt Otto (Sound Design) offer their very best. The highly skilled Musicians are Kevin Collins and Zoe Speas.

    In a time when aristocracy was prized, Nell overcame her humble origins and blazed a trail which has made her famous centuries after her death. And she was a member of an aristocracy; the aristocracy of talent.

    Don’t miss her inspiring, broadly comic story.

    Running time: Two hours and 30 minutes, plus a 15-minute intermission.

    Nell Gwynn plays through March 10 at The Folger Theater at 201 East Capitol Street SE, Washington, DC. For tickets call (202) 544-7077 or order online.

  • Review: ‘Vietgone’ at Studio Theatre

    Review: ‘Vietgone’ at Studio Theatre

    There is so much in this show to flip over, you could be dizzied by its delights. The fantastical story and kooky characters, the wicked humor and badass music, the frisky cast and musicians, the far-out design and direction—it’s a full-on fusion of fun.

    But it’s much, much more.

    In Vietgone, Vietnamese-American Playwright Qui Nguyen sets out to tell how his parents fell in love after being resettled in America as refugees after the fall of Saigon. Nguyen, a practitioner of geek theater and a screenwriter for Marvel Studios, embellishes their romance with the wildest pastiche of pop culture I can recall seeing on a DC stage. He drops in this and that from comic books, Hollywood movies, hip-hop, cartoons, sit-coms, farce, kung fu fighting, sex comedies, you name it. Incredibly, it all coheres.

    Scenic Designer Tony Cisek has transformed Studio Theatre’s fourth floor into something like a funky garage or unfinished shelter with a bandstand upstage, huge billboard-type placards on the wall representing Arkansas, New Mexico, Texas, Oklahoma, Arizona, California; a jumble of luggage, guitars, and other set dressing including a map of Saigon. A sign lights up that says Fort Chaffee—the real-life site of the refugee camp in Arkansas where in 1975 Tong, the playwright’s mother, and Quang, his father, met. Both 30 years old at the time, they were, as Jacob Yeh playing the Playwright tells us, “both survivors of a conflict that’s been raging in some form or fashion their entire lives.”

    Regina Aquino (Tong) and Marc Delacruz (Quang) in Vietgone. Photo by Teresa Wood.

    Tong (a fierce and feisty Regina Aquino) got airlifted out of Saigon with her mother, Huong (a slyly amusing Eileen Rivera), leaving behind not only her brother but her fiancé—whom she knows she will not see again.

    Quang (a ruggedly robust Marc Delacruz), a pilot trained in the United States, flew a helicopter out of Saigon full of escaping Vietnamese but with no room for his wife and two kids—whom he wants dearly to return to.

    The obstacles Quang and Tong face, and the complications in their courtship, have been cast by Nguyen into witty situational comedy and intense dramatic confrontations that jump back and forth in time and are by turns hilarious and deeply affecting.

    Nguyen’s nimble balancing of light and dark shines throughout, as for instance in an exchange between Tong and her mom, who is unimpressed with their Fort Chaffee accommodations.

    Huong:  I thought we’d have our own rooms at least.
    Tong: It’s a refugee camp, mom. It’s not a hotel.
    Huong: I know it’s not a hotel. I just thought—well, it’s America. I thought everything would be super nice here in America. That’s sorta what they advertise.

    Not long after that laugh line, the play’s motif of rescue from certain danger appears.

    Tong:  Mom, I didn’t “drag you here”. We were days away from being overrun by the Viet Cong, my job at the embassy offered me two tickets to America, I gave you one of those tickets—to, you know, SAVE YOU.
    Huong:  You saved me?
    Tong:  Yes. I saved you. This is the act of being saved.

    Regina Aquino (Tong) in Vietgone. Photo by Teresa Wood.

    The play is studded with terrific rock songs with lyrics by Nguyen, Music Director Jeff Song, and Andy Santospago, and original rock/pop/funk/psychedelic music by Santospago and members of the ace band The Vietgoners—Song (bass/vocals), Jonathan Hawkins (guitars/banjo/mandolin/vocals), and Keith Butler, Jr. (drums/percussion/vocals).

    Many of the stories told in the songs are emotionally raw and the actors sing the guts out of them. For instance, Quang and Tong have a number called “Home” in which they have the same lyrics but with strikingly different meaning. Quang takes the stage solo with a chorus that goes:

    HOME.
    I’LL MAKE IT HOME.

    By which Quang means “I’ll make it back to my homeland.” Tong then joins Quang onstage and sings a nearly identical verse except that for her the “I’LL MAKE IT HOME” chorus means “I’ll make this place my new homeland.” That’s some powerful musical storytelling. And wait till you hear Aquino belt out Tong’s “Don’t Give a Shit.”

    Eileen Rivera (Ensemble), Joe Ngo (Nahn), Marc Delacruz (Quang), and Jacob Yeh (Ensemble) in Vietgone. Photo by Teresa Wood.

    The show is rife with humor, a lot of it uproariously broad and bawdy, and some of the edgiest makes fun of America. Early on, for instance, there’s a road-trip scene between Quang and his buddy Nahn (a wonderfully wacky Joe Ngo), during which they travel by motorcycle to California on account of Quang’s cockamamie plan to get back to Vietnam. On the way, they talk of this and that.

    Quang:  Americans aren’t huge fans of peeps like you and me.
    Nahn:  Bullshit. Why would they send so many troops over if they didn’t like us?
    Quang: Listen, man, I spent 18 months here in ’68 learning how to fly down in Lacklund Airforce Base. They barely like each other. Look how the white ones treat the black ones here and they’re all from the same country.
    Nahn: That is nutbags.
    Quang: This is why we need to get home. North and South Vietnam may be at war, but at least we’re not fighting each other over something as stupid as the way we look.
    Nahn:  Word.

    And not a few of the show’s jests are gentle ribbing of white Americans. “Yo what’s up white people,” exclaims Tong to the audience at the top of the show. And Yeh’s caricatures of white guys are a hoot—among them a crybaby blond-wigged airman who longs for Tong, a bearded Hells Angels biker brute who runs the uneasy raiders off the road, and a long-haired airhead hippie who can’t stop apologizing for the Vietnam War.

    The era is captured winkingly. There’s a haze-filled scene with mary jane. There’s bed-hopping galore. (Tong keeps plucking Quang’s shirt open before they get it on.) Recognizable bits from movies like Ghost and The Matrix get big laughs.

    Costume Designer Frank Labovitz gets the comic-book look yet keeps the characters believable. Lighting Designer Heather T. Gilbert lends a fantasy fun-house feel. Fight Director Robb Hunter gives a mock martial-arts scene the perfect comic punch. And with her infamous imagination and verve, Director Natsu Onoda Power shapes all the inspired bits and pieces into a whole that ultimately lands with stunning impact.

    It happens in the last scene, between Quang, now elderly, being interviewed by his son for a play he wants to write about his father and mother. Their talk turns to the Vietnam War and America’s role in it as seen from the point of view of those for whom the war came to them. These people—including Quang and Tong, without whom there would not be this Playwright—were reliant on America for rescue from the imminent danger posed by the Viet Cong. It is a powerfully written scene that articulates and invites a fundamental recalculation of why we were in Vietnam.

    By the end, Vietgone does something so beyond entertaining, so unexpected and unforgettable, that I not only left the theater with my mind blown. I left with my mind changed.

    Running Time: Two hours 30 minutes, including one intermission.

    Vietgone plays through May 20, 2018, at Studio Theatre  –  1501 14th Street NW in Washington, DC. For tickets, call the box office at (202) 332-3300, or purchase them online.

  • In the Moment: Interview with Lighting Designer Andrew F. Griffin

    In the Moment: Interview with Lighting Designer Andrew F. Griffin

    Folger’s production of Antony and Cleopatra directed by Robert Richmond has garnered its rightful share of critical acclaim. Its lighting design is a critical component of the production’s striking visual presence. There was a cinematic feel to the production; scenes-within-scenes, scenes that had both color and film-noir-like black-and-white lighting aspects. I was smitten with the audacity of its arena staging as the production moved between dry land and the sea, between Rome and Egypt. The lighting provided verve and emotion.

    read Sophia Howes’s enthusiastic review here

    Wanting to know more about the development of the Antony and Cleopatra lighting design, I took the opportunity to interview lighting designer Andrew F. Griffin.

    For those less familiar with Griffin, he has received two Helen Hayes Awards for Outstanding Lighting Design; one for his work on Henry V at Folger Theatre and the other for his working on King Lear at Synetic Theatre. This column is edited from my interview with Griffin.

    David Siegel: How would you describe the role and responsibilities of a lighting designer?

    Andrew F. Griffin: Well, it begins with conversations with the director and the creative team. This particular production was unique in that we were having those conversations during our breaks as we tech-ed Timon of Athens. Of course we talk about the world of the play, but I also want to know what psychological world we’re creating. What is its rhythm? How should we be perceiving this world from the audience?

    Anthony & Cleopatra at the Folger. Lighting design by Andrew Griffin. Photograph by Teresa Wood.

    After those meetings, I go to my studio and create a light plot, and work with the producers to acquire any additional equipment we might need to execute the production. This can take some time; you’re thinking about how the director might use the space, anticipating where scenes might happen, and anticipating what scenery might move – even before the play is in rehearsal.

    The biggest part of our job happens in tech. Lighting is really a unique discipline in that we can’t really create any content until we are in the theater looking at the set, the costumes, and are living in the world of the play. Yes, the lights are in the air and focused where they need to be from the plot. But each of those lights is not singularly a piece of content, it’s how we use them to support and build on everything else. Much like a painter paints, or a musician writes music, we use the lights as brushes or notes to create the atmosphere of the play. And we do this in conjunction with everything and everyone else. We are one of the last people to lay our work into place, and so we have to take care to keep the integrity of not just our work, but the work of the entire team.

    Why did you want to light Folger’s Antony and Cleopatra?

    First, I love working with this team of collaborators. We push each other creatively, and there is a lot of trust within this team. Antony and Cleopatra is our fifth show together, and while the text posed a number of challenges, I knew with [director] Robert Richmond leading the way we could tap into something that could really be special. For better or worse, I can’t say no to a good challenge, and this team is always ready to test the limits of the Folger’s space. So when Tony said he wanted to do it in the round, I wasn’t surprised.

    What were the unique challenges and opportunities in lighting Antony and Cleopatra in the reconfigured Folger Theatre space?

    The first challenge of any show is how to create dynamic light. How do you make sure people have highlights and shadow? And that’s usually when the audience is on just one side. So in the arena the question becomes, how do we maintain that visual interest on all four sides? Especially when what is a front light for one side is a sidelight for some and a backlight for others.

    Then there’s the added challenge specific to the Folger: the ceiling mural prevents us from hanging a position over the stage to have downlight, which would have been the only angle of light the whole audience could experience the same way. Compounding this challenge was the proximity of the audience to the stage, and not wanting to get light directly in their eyes. The pyramid floating over the stage, which I thought was a brilliant way to cap our space and help direct our focus back to the space below and not up into the heavens of the Folger, also posed some logistical challenges for where light could go. Ultimately, it was a team effort working with the set designer (Tony Cisek) the technical director (Charles Flye) and the Master Electrician (Alex Keene) to add a few more lighting positions to the Folger to a) light around the pyramid, b) stay out of the audience’s eyes, and c) create dynamic light for the production. I can’t speak highly enough about the production department at the Folger. They make the impossible happen.

    Anthony & Cleopatra at the Folger. Photograph by Teresa Wood.

    The other big challenge was space. The Folger is designed for the lights to be concentrated in areas that are logical to its standard configuration. While we were able to add positions for lighting, real estate was still very valuable for the whole team. It is not uncommon for me to be limited in how many lights I could hang in certain places. Usually, though, I’m just pushing to have two or three instruments in the same place. For this arena configuration, we were talking about seven, eight, or even nine instruments. While you wouldn’t be able to tell looking in the air, this is honestly one of the smallest hangs I’ve ever done for the Folger because space was so tight. This challenge was solved with a rental of some intelligent fixtures (four Martin Mac Viper Profiles) to put in those primo spaces. They served their purpose and then some. This would be a different show without those fixtures.

    On your web site, you use the word “intersections” for lighting, what does that mean to you?

    In the micro context of what I said on my website (“work that explores the intersectionality of light and music to create emotional and visceral experiences for a live audience”), music has always been a part of my life and it’s my belief that light is a visual representation of music. Lighting Design is what you see when you close your eyes and listen to music. That’s what I try to tap into with every production. Even when it’s not an opera or a musical, the spoken word has key, meter, and tempo. A playwright give us verses, refrains, a-and-b sections, key and meter changes. Shakespeare especially does that. I try to tap into the auditory poetry of the piece and create a space that suits the music, whatever it may be.

    I believe I’m creating a psychological and emotional space for the actors to inhabit. It turns the light into an additional character and allows the audience to experience the piece more viscerally.

    Talk about the collaboration with other designers.

    I want to start with my collaborations with Sound. They are always a critical part of my work in tech. Lighting and sound are ephemeral arts, so we need to be conscious of each other and work together to create a cohesive atmosphere. We make sure the transitions are in sync with each other and give each place its own unique ambiance.

    With this particular team, we are beginning to have our own language, which is fantastic especially when you’re creating under a time limit. Robert Richmond [director], Tony Cisek [scenic design], Mariah Hale [costumer design], and I are good at talking with each other throughout the process to isolate what’s working, what’s not, who can solve it, and how. For my part, sometimes it’s as simple as changing a gel or a cue’s timing, or as complex as re lighting a scene. The simple fact is: the story comes first and we all work together to support the story.

    Please tell me about several scenes in Antony and Cleopatra that you are particularly proud of.

    I have to start with the sea battle. Shakespeare doesn’t stage it, but I knew when we signed on for this that Robert would. We gave you the battle of Agincourt in Henry V, why would we not give you this battle? Then when we knew we were going to be in the round, I knew it would fall on me to help give that scene some clarity. What the lighting helps the audience feel – between the swirling floor and the blue green color – is a sense of that churning water. It puts us in a place completely different than any other we’ve been in all night. It’s a very brief moment in the play, but one I’m very proud of, and again is one of those team effort moments where everyone gives something to the story.

    While it’s not a scene, per se, I am also proud of how we transition from Rome to Egypt, and Egypt to Rome. We were always trying to anticipate ways to make sure this show did not become a scene shift ballet, but we also needed it to be very clear whether we were watching from the Roman or the Egyptian perspective for each scene. Working with Adam Stamper (the sound designer) we created percussive transitions that snapped us out of Egypt and into Rome, then when transitioning to Egypt we used a dissolve. It helped us create a sonic and visual language for an audience to know where we were instantly so you’re never feeling left behind and can keep your focus on the action at hand.

    Running Time: Approximately two hours, with a 15-minute intermission.

    Antony and Cleopatra plays through June 11, 2017, at Folger Theatre – 201 East Capitol Street, SE, in Washington, DC. For tickets, call the box office at (202) 544-7077, or purchase them online.

  • Review: ‘Antony and Cleopatra’ at the Folger Theatre

    Review: ‘Antony and Cleopatra’ at the Folger Theatre

    All for Love

    Noted critic Harold Bloom once said, “We certainly can say that Cleopatra and Antony do not bore each other, and they are bored, erotically and otherwise, by everyone else in their world.” As characters, they are expansive and endlessly interesting. Director Robert Richmond’s production focuses on the love affair between these two rather than the power dynamics which ultimately overwhelm them. They are always contemporary and relevant, as archetypes of the collision between politics and passion.

    David Siegel interviews Antony and Cleopatra lighting designer Andrew F. Griffin here

    The Folger’s Antony and Cleopatra is visually sumptuous, with costumes, lights, and movement coming together to provide indulgence for the senses. The play is known for its multiplicity of short scenes, magnificent poetry, and predominant adherence to Plutarch’s Life of Antony. And it is, of course, one of the greatest love stories of all time. First-rate acting and imaginative directing choices combine to make an exhilarating evening in the theatre.

    Shirine Babb as Cleopatra and Cody Nickell as Mark Antony. Photo by Teresa Wood.

    Cody Nickell’s Antony is so enraptured by Cleopatra at first that he seems barely aware of what is going on around him. His performance builds slowly, and as he reaches the point of mind-numbing desperation, he takes us all with him. As a character, Antony seems to attract people who play games. Enobarbus and Cleopatra both play games with him. Antony tires of it, though, and when in trouble wants to hear the truth. The death of his wife, Fulvia, leads to a wistful soliloquy about how we only appreciate others when they are gone.

    Shirine Babb’s Cleopatra is queenly, coy, and ferocious by turns. She sweeps in like an empress, in glistening gowns, and proceeds to give a richly layered performance. Babb has a sure grasp of Cleopatra’s authority, and love of playing roles. Her Cleopatra is also insecure, continually anxious about her possible rivals for Antony’s love. When in doubt, she rewards those who tell her what she wants to hear.

    Dylan Paul as Octavius Caesar. Photo by Teresa Wood.

    As Octavius Caesar, Dylan Paul is appropriately young, heartless, and efficient. His warm relationship with his sister Octavia (Nicole King) is the only trace of a chink in his armor. At first, he settles his disagreements with Antony. The Triumvirate of Caesar, Lepidus and Antony will continue to rule the Roman world. But then Antony makes a critical mistake. Frustrated, perhaps, with Cleopatra’s relentless game playing, he promises to marry Caesar’s sister, Octavia. This leads to a chain of events which results in war.

    Mutual obsession is the heart of this production, and the kind of skewed decisions people make in the wake of such obsessions. The political aspects of the plot are somewhat less prominent, due to the excision of Pompey and some other characters who figure crucially in the struggle for power. Still, the focus here is the impact of their private relationship on the fortunes of the empire. The stage pictures are entrancing, and are enhanced by the commitment of the actors.

    Cody Nickell as Mark Antony and Shirine Babb as Cleopatra. Photo by Teresa Wood.

    A particularly fine scene occurs between Enobarbus (Nigel Gore) and Agrippa (Chris Genebach) as they marvel at Cleopatra’s ageless appeal and its coup-de-foudre-like effect on Antony. Another highlight is Antony’s exchange with the Soothsayer (Anthony Michael Martinez), when he is warned that Caesar is an existential danger to him. Robbie Gay plays both Lepidus, the member of the Triumvirate whom no one takes seriously, and Dolabella, who gets a little too close to Cleopatra. As Lepidus, he excels in the famous drinking scene. As Dolabella, his best moments come when he reluctantly tells Cleopatra of her likely future without Antony.

    Cleopatra’s circle consists of handmaids Charmian (Simoné Elizabeth Bart), Iras (Nicole King), and eunuch Mardian (John Floyd). The women begin with giggles and a sorority-like sense of fun, as they ask the Soothsayer Martinez about their futures. They ignore his equivocation, but become more and more somber as Cleopatra’s situation worsens. Floyd’s Mardian has some nicely comic moments when asked if, as a eunuch, he still has romantic feelings. As Iras, one of Cleopatra’s handmaidens, and Octavia, Antony’s unsuspecting bride, Nicole King gives an assured performance, although I was somewhat confused as to why the sedate Octavia was included in the drinking scene. As Charmian, Bart handles the transitions well as she attempts to keep up with Cleopatra’s lightning changes of mood.

    Andrew F. Griffin’s lighting was especially lovely. Mariah Hale’s costumes are spectacular, among the best I have seen. Tony Cisek’s set design ingeniously makes the most of the Folger stage. Adam Stamper’s Music Composition and Set Design augment the impressive work of this beautifully detailed production.

    Shirine Babb as Cleopatra, Simoné Elizabeth Bart as Charmian, and John Floyd as Mardian. Photo by Teresa Wood.

    Antony’s final scene with Eros (Anthony Michael Martinez) is deeply moving. In the end Antony is determined to die ‘like a Roman.” Cleopatra, who has been focused almost exclusively on Antony throughout, is more concerned about whether she will be the first to kiss him in the afterlife.

    It is difficult not to conclude that Antony and Cleopatra were destined to fall in love and ultimately drive each other crazy. It is spellbinding to watch them destroy each other, although Caesar probably would have gotten rid of them anyway. And their story is an irresistible reminder of the contradictions of passionate love.

    Running Time: Approximately two hours, with a 15-minute intermission.

    Antony and Cleopatra plays through June 11, 2017, at Folger Theatre – 201 East Capitol Street, SE, in Washington, DC. For tickets, call the box office at (202) 544-7077, or purchase them online.

    Save

    Save

  • Review: ‘The Wild Party’ at Constellation Theater Company

    Review: ‘The Wild Party’ at Constellation Theater Company

    In 1928, Joseph Moncure March wrote a racy narrative poem that was received quite successfully, despite a ban resulting from its controversial content, called “The Wild Party.” And in 2000, a musical of the same name, with books, lyrics, and music by Andrew Lippa, made its world-premiere. With the original poem as its inspiration, the musical centers around two insatiable lovers, Queenie and Burrs, and the raging party they throw.

    Emily Zickler, Jimmy Mavrikes, Farrell Parker, Tiziano D’Affuso, Patricia “Pep” Targete. Photo by Daniel Schwartz.

    Constellation Theatre Company opened Lippa’s The Wild Party on Monday and their production more than lives up to the title. Director Allison Arkell Stockman has put together a cast that is stacked with talent. And a live band performs the Jazz Age styled score, with Walter “Bobby” McCoy conducting. McCoy also served as Musical Director for the production, with superb sound design by Justin Schmitz. Put all of that together and you get two and a half hours of high-energy, jaw-dropping performances that blow the roof right off the joint.

    Scenic Designer, Tony Cisek, created a fantastic set with pieces that roll in and out as needed. The band sits upstage on a raised platform, walled in by ornate panels and a beaded curtain doorway that become partially transparent and appear to change color when lit by A. J. Guban’s stunning light design.

    Dynamic choreography by Ilona Kessell fits perfectly with the fluctuations of the show’s tone – from couples dancing lively to writhing in sexual ecstasy – and includes the use of a rotating bed and some creative, sensual bed-ography.
    The couple at the center of it all is Queenie (Farrell Parker) and Burrs (Jimmy Mavrikes). “Queenie Was A Blonde” opens the show and lays out the groundwork. Both are vaudeville performers (Queenie is a dancer; Burrs is a clown) with no shortage of admirers. After many lovers that never quite satisfy, they finally find each other and fireworks ensue.

    Ian Anthony Coleman and Farrell Parker. Photo by Daniel Schwartz.

    Burrs has a tendency towards violence, which originally attracts Queenie but, after a time, she tires and their relationship grows stale. In an attempt to reignite the passion that brought them together, Queenie suggests throwing a party, with “Out of the Blue,” and Burrs readily agrees.

    An eclectic group of characters surge in with the company number, “What A Party,” and Queenie appears as the belle of the ball to work and woo the crowd. Parker’s subtle but stunning voice matches Queenie’s character. She floats through the scene and the attention flocks to her. But despite Queenie’s efforts to incite a reaction in Burrs, he immediately seeks out the fresh meat, which comes in the form of Nadine (Patricia ‘Pep” Targete), a lovely, naïve, under-aged girl. Queenie quickly finds her means for revenge and hones in on seducing a new party arrival, the dashing Mr. Black (Ian Anthony Coleman). But the tit-for-tat jealousy battle does not end there. Black has arrived with Kate (Kari Ginsburg), an old friend of Queenie’s, who sees right through Queenie’s game and in-turn decides to seduce Burrs.

    But that is only the beginning. The party is fraught with scuffles and hookups, as booze and debauchery lead the way. There is never a question of if something will go wrong, but merely when, what, and how.

    Mavrikes, as Burrs, exudes passion and is a master of the intense, seductive stare, offering no question to why women melt in his arms. His voice is incredibly powerful and clear, causing a collective exhalation from the audience each time a song ends.

    Parker plays Queenie’s coldness with perfection. She uses her sexual nature and appeal to get what she wants (if only she could figure out what that was). And, together, Mavrikes and Parker make a couple with sizzling chemistry that seems neither healthy not sustainable, but still altogether irresistible.

    Ginsburg as Kate is a complex character with her confident persona at war with her self-deprecating tongue. She truly cares for Burrs and her journey is a heartbreaking one to watch. Ginsburg has her own killer set of pipes, as proven when she first bursts into the party singing “Look at Me Now.”

    Emily Zickler, James Finley, Tiziano D’Affuso, Calvin Malone, Christian Montgomery, Julia Klavans. Photo by Daniel Schwartz.

    Madelaine True, played by Rachel Barlaam, is a lesbian on the prowl. She sings of her desires to find a lover in “An Old-Fashioned Love Story.” Barlaam’s vocal command, combined with her comedic brilliance, made this number perfectly outrageous and incredible. Barlaam plays the raunchy side of True but with such an endearing, love sick-way that the audience can’t help but hope she finds someone to stumble home with her.

    Then there’s Eddie (Calvin Malone), the pugilist, and his doll-face woman, Mae (Emily Zickler). Malone and Zickler make an adorable couple: One slays with beauty, the other with brawn. They’re like that couple, who borders on nauseating but you can’t help but love them because they’re so perfect. They sing the upbeat “Two of a Kind.”

    Phil and Oscar d’Armano, played by Tiziano D’Affuso and Christian Montgomery respectively, are the composer/brother/lover duo who are trying to convince producer, Sam (James Finely), to have a look at their work. In the spectacularly funny number, “The Wild, Wild Party,” they finally get their chance. Burrs and Queenie play Adam and Eve, while one of the partygoers, Max (Carl Williams), does the most fabulous portrayal of God that ever was.

    Lippa’s The Wild Party is a non-stop ride of a musical, and Constellation Theatre Company’s production is bursting with life. The show is fun and uplifting, while simultaneously dark and deeply heart-breaking. By no means considered a feel-good show, the musical will leave you feeling sated and inspired. The gorgeous score is reason enough, but knockout performances of the ensemble make witnessing this show a must.

    Kudos to the cast and crew of Constellation for an outstanding production. You have indeed put on a wild, wild party!

    Running Time: Two hours and 30 minutes, including one intermission.

    The Wild Party plays through October 29, 2017 at Constellation Theatre Company performing at Source Theater – 1835 14th Street, in Washington D.C. For tickets, buy them at the door, or purchase them online.

    NOTE: Recommended for ages 18 and up.

    Save

    Save

  • Here are the 2017 Barrymore Awards Nominations

    Here are the 2017 Barrymore Awards Nominations

    The nominations for the Barrymore Awards for Excellence in Theatre for the 2016-17 season have been announced by Theatre Philadelphia.

    A total of 23 companies were recognized across 27 categories. 22 of the categories are determined by a group of 60 nominators and 12 judges, all theatre professionals. Five special awards (F. Otto Haas Award for an Emerging Philadelphia Theatre Artist; Virginia Brown Martin Philadelphia Award, for “a production that best leads audiences to a better understanding of the unique experience of particular segments of our global community”; June and Steve Wolfson Award for an Evolving Theatre Company; Victory Foundation Award for Outstanding Theatre Education Program; and Lifetime Achievement Award) – the first four of which include cash prizes totaling more than $75,000 – are decided by committee.

    Arden Theatre Company leads this year’s nominations with a total of 39, followed by The Wilma Theatre with 16, People’s Light and InterAct Theatre Companies each receiving 13 nominations, and EgoPo Classic Theatre with 11.

    The Barrymores will be awarded on Monday, October 30 at 7pm at the Merriam Theater on the Avenue of the Arts. Tickets for the ceremony and the after-party celebration at the University of the Arts’ Dorrance Hamilton Hall will go on sale on Monday, August 30th, at noon at Theatre Philadelphia.

    Here are the 2017 Barrymore Award Nominations:

    Barrymore Awards

    Outstanding Overall Production of a Play
    Hand to God (Philadelphia Theatre Company)
    How to Use a Knife (InterAct Theatre Company)
    The Legend of Georgia McBride (Arden Theatre Company)
    The Mountaintop (People’s Light)
    The Seagull (EgoPo Classic Theater)
    Stupid Fucking Bird (Arden Theatre Company)
    When the Rain Stops Falling (The Wilma Theater)

    Outstanding Overall Production of a Musical
    A Year with Frog and Toad (Arden Theatre Company)
    Godspell (Eagle Theatre)
    Gypsy (Arden Theatre Company)
    The Light Princess (Arden Theatre Company)
    Lizzie (11th Hour Theatre Company)
    Monty Python’s Spamalot (Resident Theatre Company)

    Outstanding Direction of a Play
    Steve H. Broadnax III (The Mountaintop, People’s Light)
    Emmanuelle Delpech (The Legend of Georgia McBride, Arden Theatre Company)
    Brenna Geffers (Anna, EgoPo Classic Theater)
    Claire Moyer (Radiant Vermin, Inis Nua Theatre Company)
    Aaron Posner (Stupid Fucking Bird, Arden Theatre Company)
    Lane Savadove (The Seagull, EgoPo Classic Theater)
    Blanka Zizka (When the Rain Stops Falling, The Wilma Theater)

    Outstanding Direction of a Musical
    Kate Galvin (Lizzie, 11th Hour Theatre Company)
    Kristin McLaughlin Mitchell (Monty Python’s Spamalot, Resident Theatre Company)
    Terrence J. Nolen (Gypsy, Arden Theatre Company)
    Steve Pacek (The Light Princess, Arden Theatre Company)
    Ted Wioncek III (John and Jen, Eagle Theatre)

    Charlotte Cushman Award for
    Outstanding Leading Actress in a Play
    Jaylene Clark Owens (Vanessa, WHITE, Theatre Horizon)
    Sarah Gliko (Marianne, Constellations, The Wilma Theater)
    Eleanor Handley (Romaine Helger, Witness for the Prosecution, Bristol Riverside Theatre)
    Patrese D. McLain (Camae, The Mountaintop, People’s Light)
    Kittson O’Neill (The Pilot, Grounded, InterAct Theatre Company)
    Susan Riley Stevens (Emma Goldman, Marcus/Emma, InterAct Theatre Company)
    Samantha Rosenstrater (Shelly, Grand Concourse, Theatre Horizon)

    Outstanding Leading Actor in a Play
    Akeem Davis (Jackson, Buzzer, Theatre Exile)
    Akeem Davis (Marcus Garvey, Marcus/Emma, InterAct Theatre Company)
    Scott Greer (George, How to Use a Knife, InterAct Theatre Company)
    Jered McLenigen (Roland, Constellations, The Wilma Theater)
    Aubie Merrylees (Tyrone, Jason, Hand to God, Philadelphia Theatre Company)
    Matteo Scammell (Casey, The Legend of Georgia McBride, Arden Theatre Company)
    Lindsay Smiling (Steve, How to Use a Knife, InterAct Theatre Company)
    Bowman Wright (Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr, The Mountaintop, People’s Light)

    Outstanding Leading Actress in a Musical
    Kim Carson (Chanteuse, Sleeping Beauty, People’s Light)
    Alex Keiper (Lizzie Borden, Lizzie, 11th Hour Theatre Company)
    Mary Martello (Rose, Gypsy, Arden Theatre Company)
    Nicole Stacie (Don’t Bother Me, I Can’t Cope, New Freedom Theatre)

    Outstanding Leading Actor in a Musical
    Alex Bechtel (Prince/Witch, The Light Princess, Arden Theatre Company)
    Ben Dibble (Toad, A Year with Frog and Toad, Arden Theatre Company)
    Steve Pacek (Gordon Michael Schwinn, A New Brain, Theatre Horizon)
    Tim Rinehart (Black Stache, Peter and the Starcatcher, Eagle Theatre)

    Outstanding Supporting Actress in a Play
    Carla Belver (Genevieve, John, Arden Theatre Company)
    Nancy Boykin (Older Elizabeth Law, When the Rain Stops Falling, The Wilma Theater)
    Taysha Canales (Younger Gabrielle York, When the Rain Stops Falling, The Wilma Theater)
    Eleni Delopoulos (Radiant Vermin, Inis Nua Theatre Company)
    Melanye Finister (Older Gabrielle York, When the Rain Stops Falling, The WIlma Theater)
    Hillary Parker (Liz, You for Me for You, InterAct Theatre Company)
    Stephanie N. Walters (Lamb 1, Peaceable Kingdom, Orbiter 3)

    Outstanding Supporting Actor in a Play
    David Bardeen (Frog, Grand Concourse, Theatre Horizon)
    J Hernandez (Carlos, How To Use a Knife, InterAct Theatre Company)
    Dan Hodge (Dev, Stupid Fucking Bird, Arden Theatre Company)
    Mikeah Ernest Jennings (Rexy & Jason, The Legend of Georgia McBride, Arden Theatre Company)
    Stephen Rishard (Joe Ryan, When the Rain Stops Falling, The Wilma Theater)
    Ed Swidey (Trigorin, The Seagull, EgoPo Classic Theatre)
    Greg Wood (Dr. Sorn, Stupid Fucking Bird, Arden Theatre Company)

    Outstanding Supporting Actress in a Musical
    Rachel Brennan (Bridget Sullivan, Lizzie, 11th Hour Theatre Company)
    Rachel Camp (June, Gypsy, Arden Theatre Company)
    Caroline Dooner (Louise, Gypsy, Arden Theatre Company)
    Leigha Kato (Mouse, Bird, Mole, Squirrel, Young Frog, A Year with Frog and Toad, Arden Theatre Company)

    Outstanding Supporting Actor in a Musical
    Malik Akil (Tulsa, Gypsy, Arden Theatre Company)
    Doug Hara (Mr. Bungee, A New Brain, Theatre Horizon)
    Steve Pacek (Bird, Lizard, Snail, Mole, Father Frog, A Year with Frog and Toad, Arden Theatre Company)
    Josh Totora (Sam Slug, Sleeping Beauty, People’s Light)

    Outstanding Scenic Design
    Tony Cisek (The Mountaintop, People’s Light)
    Paul Kuhn (The Birds, Curio Theatre Company)
    Tim Mackabee (John, Arden Theatre Company)
    Sara Outing (How We Got On, Azuka Theatre)
    Matt Saunders (When the Rain Stops Falling, The Wilma Theater)
    Thom Weaver (The Seagull, EgoPo Classic Theatre)

    Outstanding Costume Design
    Oana Botez (Adapt! The Wilma Theater)
    Richard St. Clair (A Year with Frog and Toad, Arden Theatre Company)
    Nikki Delhomme (Sleeping Beauty, People’s Light)
    Olivera Gajic (The Legend of Georgia McBride, Arden)
    Rebecca Kanach (Peaceable Kingdom, Orbiter 3)
    Jill Keys (The Light Princess, Arden Theatre Company)
    Kayla Speedy (Lizzie, 11th Hour Theatre Company)

    Outstanding Lighting Design
    Joshua Schulman (The Mountaintop, People’s Light)
    Maria Shaplin (The Legend of Georgia McBride, Arden Theatre Company)
    Masha Tsimring (Grounded, InterAct Theatre Company)
    Thom Weaver (Gypsy, Arden Theatre Company)
    Thom Weaver (Lizzie, 11th Hour Theatre Company)
    Thom Weaver (The Seagull, EgoPo Classic Theater)
    Yi Zhao (When the Rain Stops Falling, The Wilma Theater)

    Outstanding Sound Design
    Christopher Colucci (When the Rain Stops Falling, The Wilma Theater)
    Lucas Fendley (How We Got On, Azuka Theatre)
    Damien Figeuras (Antihero, Tribe of Fools)
    Rob Kaplowitz (Grounded, InterAct Theatre Company)
    Daniel Perelstein (Adapt! The Wilma Theater)
    Toby Pettit (Lizzie, 11th Hour Theatre Company)
    Chris Sannino (The Birds, Curio Theatre Company)

    Outstanding Original Music
    Alex Bechtel (The Light Princess, Arden Theatre Company)
    Alex Bechtel (Sleeping Beauty, People’s Light)
    Christopher Colucci (When the Rain Stops Falling, The Wilma Theater)
    Michael Hahn and Liz Filios (An Iliad, Lantern Theater Company)
    Andrew Nelson (The Arsonists, Azuka Theatre)
    Marina Sadovksa (Adapt! The Wilma Theater)
    Daniel Perelstein (Stupid Fucking Bird, Arden Theatre Company)

    Outstanding Choreography / Movement
    Terry Brennan (School Play, Tribe of Fools)
    Michael Consenza (Anthihero, Tribe of Fools)
    Melanie Cotton (The Legend of Georgia McBride, Arden Theatre Company)
    Brenna Geffers and K.O. Delmarcelle (Anna, EgoPo Classic Theatre)
    Jenn Rose (Gypsy, Arden Theatre Company)
    Samantha Reading (Mauritius, Act II)
    Derek Roland (Monty Python’s Spamalot, Resident Theatre Company)

    Outstanding Music Direction
    Alex Bechtel (The Light Princess, Arden Theatre Company)
    Dan Kazemi (Lizzie, 11th Hour Theatre Company)
    Amanda Morton (A Year with Frog and Toad, Arden Theatre Company)
    Jason Neri (Godspell, Eagle Theatre)
    Ryan Touhey (Gypsy, Arden Theatre Company)

    Outstanding Ensemble in a Play
    Anna (EgoPo Classic Theatre)
    How To Use a Knife (InterAct Theatre Company)
    The Legend of Georgia McBride (Arden Theatre Company)
    The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane (People’s Light)
    Peaceable Kingdom (Orbiter 3)
    The Seagull (EgoPo Classic Theatre)
    When the Rain Stops Falling (The Wilma Theater)

    Outstanding Ensemble in a Musical
    Gypsy (Arden Theatre Company)
    The Light Princess (Arden Theatre Company)
    Lizzie (11th Hour Theatre Company)
    Monty Python’s Spamalot (Resident Theatre Company)
    Sleeping Beauty (People’s Light)

    Independence Foundation Award for
    Outstanding New Play/Musical
    Anna by Brenna Geffers and the Ensemble (EgoPo Classic Theatre)
    How to Use a Knife by Will Snider (InterAct Theatre Company)
    The Light Princess by Anthony Lawton and Alex Bechtel (Arden Theatre Company)
    Marcus/Emma by Mary Tuomanen (InterAct Theatre Company)
    Peaceable Kingdom by Mary Tuomanen (Orbiter 3)
    WHITE by James Ijames (Theatre Horizon)

    Lifetime Achievement Award
    Penelope Reed, Director Emeritus of Hedgerow Theatre Company, in recognition of her significant contributions to the theatre community.

    F. Otto Haas Award for an Emerging Philadelphia Theatre Artist
    Rachel Camp
    Jaylene Clark Owens
    Katherine Fritz
    Allison Heishman
    Mary Tuomanen
    Rebecca Wright
    * The winner will receive $15,000. Each finalist will receive $2,000.

    Virginia Brown Martin Philadelphia Award
    Buzzer (Theatre Exile)
    The Mountaintop (People’s Light)
    Peaceable Kingdom (Orbiter 3)
    WHITE (Theatre Horizon)
    * The winner will receive $25,000. Each finalist will receive $2,500.

    June and Steve Wolfson Award for an Evolving Theatre Company
    The Bearded Ladies Cabaret
    Curio Theatre Company
    EgoPo Classic Theatre
    Quintessence Theatre Group
    Simpatico Theatre
    Tribe of Fools
    * The winner will receive $10,000.

    Victory Foundation Award for
    Outstanding Theatre Education Program
    Curio Theatre Company
    Lantern Theater Company
    Theatre Exile
    Theatre Horizon
    * The winner will receive $7,500.

  • Dangereuse: Shakespeare’s Most Badass Misanthrope: ‘Timon of Athens’ at Folger Theatre

    Dangereuse: Shakespeare’s Most Badass Misanthrope: ‘Timon of Athens’ at Folger Theatre

    Just when Canada starts to sound like a good idea, comes Timon of Athens at the Folger Theatre, confirming once again that first-rate Shakespeare is a cure for almost anything. The show’s brilliance is undisputed, and lead Ian Merrill Peakes gives a star performance as the benighted Timon. Timon may be Shakespeare’s most badass misanthrope.

    Misanthropes are often unusually intelligent (let’s pass over that) but can also be highly entertaining.  Charles Bukowski, in Barfly, wrote the following dialogue: “Do you hate people?” “I don’t hate them. I just feel better when they’re not around.”  Samuel Johnson remarked wisely: “I hate mankind, for I think myself one of the best of them, and I know how bad I am.”

    Banished Alcibiades (Maboud Ebrahimzadeh, left) confronts his old companion Timon (Ian Merrill Peakes). Photo by Teresa Wood.

    William Hazlitt, in Characters of Shakespear’s Plays, commented: “[Timon] is as much a satire as a play: and contains some of the finest pieces of invective possible to be conceived, both in the snarling, captious answers of the cynic Apemantus, and in the impassioned and more terrible imprecations of Timon.” The play contains two dedicated misanthropes: Apemantus enjoys his hatred for all mankind, while Timon is tortured by his own, which stems not from innate tendency but tragic experience.

    As Timon, Peakes is a ferocious bundle of energy.  He attacks the role with tenacity and style, creating a complex character who is undone by the hypocrisy of others and his own limitations.  He has extraordinary inner tension, which shows itself in tics and almost ritualistic behavior. Because of these underlying weaknesses, his descent into madness later on is beautifully anticipated.  He seems, somehow, fragile. And eventually he cracks.

    In Act I, we are in the land of venture capitalists, investors, and self-deluded artists on the prowl for patrons. The set is dazzling (Set Designer is Tony Cisek) and technologically sophisticated.  Golden shapes (coins?) dance across the top panels of the walls, and sometimes a character’s name will flash above he or she as they enter.  A ringing sound (cash register?) is heard whenever Timon bestows funds on one of his guests. The transition to Timon’s refuge in the forest is extremely effective.

    Unlike the original text, the Folger production opens with Timon getting his friend Ventidius (the always enjoyable Louis Butelli) released from prison by paying his debts. Next, we see the Poet (Michael Dix Thomas), the Painter (Andhy Mendez), the Merchant (Kathryn Tkel) and the Jeweler (Sean Fri). Their costumes (by Mariah Hale) are particularly imaginative and comical.  The artists praise each other’s work with unctuous insincerity. The Jeweler has an especially fabulous gem he wants to sell to Timon. They all discuss with relish Timon’s legendary popularity. Here, we can sense echoes of today’s world, where money isn’t everything, it’s the only thing.

    Timon (Ian Merrill Peakes, center standing) serves a surprise dish to his dinner guests (l to r: Andy Mendez, Sean Fri, John Floyd, Kathryn Tkel, and Louis Butelli). Photo by Teresa Wood.

    There is one honest heart among this claque of avaricious toadies, and that is Timon’s servant, Flavius (Flavia?). As played by Antoinette Robinson, she evokes the stereotypical administrative assistant with a crush on her boss. But in another sense, she serves as Timon’s conscience. She warns him repeatedly about his debts, attempting to save him from himself. Robinson has a disarming air of warmth and integrity.  Her devotion to Timon is a saving note of kindness in a bleak universe.

    Timon, in a suit, like the classic businessman, throws a wild party for his friends. He is a civil master of ceremonies, welcoming and gracious to all, even Apemantus.  As Apemantus, Eric Hissom is a worthy foil to Timon, hissing his lines and enjoying every moment of his diatribe. There is a floor show with elaborate acrobatics, topped by the entrance of Cupid (John Floyd) whose physical agility is something to see. The Senators (John Floyd, Michael Dix Thomas, and Kathryn Tkel) are all corrupt; the atmosphere ruthless, and the betrayals constant.  (Sound familiar?)

    The performances are uniformly excellent, the double casting impeccable, which is what we have come to expect from Robert Richmond.  He has brought Timon into this century while retaining the underlying spirit of the text. There are sections of prose alternated with rhymed couplets, all delivered with close attention to the language as well as the acting. Judicious cuts have been made to the script, and the ending is not Shakespeare’s but an exhilarating conclusion to the evening.

    Alcibiades (Maboud Ebrahimzadeh) is also eager to rebel against Athens.  The Senators have refused to pardon his friend, and as a storied military veteran, he proposes a general’s solution; he will leave, organize an army, and attack the city. Ebrahimzadeh performs with distinction in a role which is somewhat underwritten.

    As the false friends, Sean Fri (Sempronius), Andhy Mendez (Lucullus), and Michael Dix Thomas (Lucius) begin as sycophants and end as the materialistic villains we love to hate. The Bandits (John Floyd, Sean Fri, and Louis Butelli) are the only honest men, in the tradition of satire.

     

    Phrynia (Aliyah Caldwell, left) and Timandra (Amanda Forstrom) humor their bait, Timon (Ian Merrill Peakes). Photo by Teresa Wood.

    There is little for women to do in the play, so the casting of Antoinette Robinson as Flavius and Kathryn Tkel as a Merchant and a Senator is particularly welcome. The only other females are prostitutes Phrynia (Aliyah Caldwell) and Timandra (Amanda Forstrom).  The two are delightfully versatile, and have fine moments as Patty Hearst-like camp followers towards the end of the play.

    Director Richmond explores Timon’s social anxiety in a uniquely provocative way. This originality can be found throughout the play, and reflects the ingenuity of the entire creative team.  Besides Director Richmond, they are Tony Cisek (Scenic Design); Mariah Hale (Costume Design); Andre F. Griffin (Lighting Design), Matt Otto (Sound Design), and Francesca Talenti (Projection Design).

    Misanthropy, it seems, never goes out of style.  Some misanthropes grace today’s television screens. There is Sherlock (Benedict Cumberbatch): “Get out, I need to go to my mind palace.”  Or Doc Martin (Martin Clunes) “Treat yourself to a noun.”

    For the greatest declaration of misanthropy (many philosophers appear to be misanthropes) we must turn to good old Jean-Paul Sartre; “Hell is other people,” which as a concept has a lot going for it-if you’re a misanthrope, that is.

    Do not miss this outstanding production.

    Running time: 2 hours, with one intermission.

    Timon of Athens plays through June 11, 2017, at Folger Theatre – 201 East Capitol Street, SE, in Washington, DC. For tickets, call the box office at (202) 544-7077, or purchase them online.

  • Review: ‘Timon of Athens’ at Folger Theatre

    Review: ‘Timon of Athens’ at Folger Theatre

    Undone by his own goodness? Ha! That is not what I took away as director Robert Richmond succeeded masterfully with his contemporary, blasting grenade of an interpretation for Shakespeare’s rarely produced Timon of Athens at Folger Theatre.

    Banished Alcibiades (Maboud Ebrahimzadeh  left) confronts his old companion Timon (Ian Merrill Peakes). Photo by Teresa Wood.

    Subtlety be damned is what Richmond, his cast, and the design team have rendered into a modern morality play for these slippery times when facts are considered contextual and IMHO (in my humble opinion) is a readily used watchword by those of all political stripes.

    Thanks to Folger veteran and Helen Hayes Award recipient Ian Merrill Peakes as Lord Timon, Timon of Athens is a superior full throttle production. Peakes gives a devastating “real” portrayal of an arrogant, self-important man who dressed so fine, throwing his friends parties and showering them with gifts when in his prime. Then he becomes a man dropped from the celebrity “A” list to live without a real home, scrounging for his next meal. (Yes, Bob Dylan’s “Like a Rolling Stone” came to mind as I left the Folger the other night).

    So a bit of a synopsis of Timon of Athens from the Folger Shakespeare Library Digital Texts (also printed in the Timon program):

    Timon (Ian Merrill Peakes, center standing) serves a surprise dish to his dinner guests (l to r: Andhy Mendez, Sean Fri, John Floyd, Kathryn Tkel, and Louis Butelli). Photo by Teresa Wood.

    In Timon of Athens, Lord Timon discovers the limits of wealth and friendship. He spends freely on others and hosts banquets for many guests. {They take center-stage as vogueing, posing, vamping, and primping creatures]. Despite his servant’s (Antoinette Robinson softly, steadfast in her performance) warnings, he spends so excessively that his money runs out—and the philosopher Apemantus (Eric Hissom a man well suited to a rapid fire, back-and-forth, drumline of snippy dialogue) condemns his flatterers as insincere.

    Soon Timon’s creditors begin to call in their loans. Timon expects help from his friends, but they all refuse him money. Furious, he invites them again to a banquet but serves only water and stones before he dismisses them, cursing Athens. He exiles himself to a wilderness.

    There the embittered Timon finds gold. He gives some to enemies of Athens and to prostitutes and bandits. When Senators beg him to return to Athens as a military leader to save the city from his banished friend Alcibiades, he refuses and retreats to a cave to die. Alcibiades (a solid, stoic, friend-to-the-end Maboud Ebrahimzadeh ) defeats Athens but promises to protect the city and its citizens.

    As convincingly portrayed by Peakes, the initially self-assured Lord Timon didn’t registered with me as a man to give my unfettered sympathy. He was a conflicted complex man, cold to the touch for much of Act I. He is far from an icon of virtue who unjustly wronged, bearing no responsibility for his own downfall. Jeez, remember he doesn’t even listen to his steward tell him that tough times are coming. He merely chooses shrug his shoulders and kiss off his storm warnings as if only he can know anything.

    In Richmond’s staging, Peakes portrays Lord Time as cunning, not naïve. He makes his own choice to cut himself off from real humanity and warm intimacy, He seems a user in his own way by displaying his wealth and buying friends to keep from being lonely. Through much of Act I, Peakes makes Timon an observer of others, not a participant with them. He is a man hard to trust as he watches his “friends” revel, almost as if he is recording the events for later use should he need evidence of their wrongdoing.

    Add in that Peakes’ Lord Timon display some obsessive compulsive mannerisms, the least of which is a constant handwashing fixation after touching objects along with panic if someone tries to touch him. (It has been a long time since I read or consulted with the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders [DSM–5], but I have to imagine that someone in this mighty production did).

    Phrynia (Aliyah Caldwell, left) and Timandra (Amanda Forstrom) humor their bait, Timon (Ian Merrill Peakes). Photo by Teresa Wood.

    So when bad times finally do come to Lord Timon with few standing by him, well, maybe Timon got what he deserved. When Peakes as Timon explodes in a frenzy of upset, spewing invectives toward one and all, when he serves a meal that leads to nausea, when he calls women sluts and whores, when he wishes all of Athens to be dispatched, well, maybe he is showing his true unsympathetic rich-boy, bully-boy nature. But, gosh what an astonishing performance Peakes gives his Timon character, especially in an Act II major breakdown that left me stunned in its believability.

    The Timon of Athens staging is of the world of a “right-now” digital social media oligarchs thanks to Tony Cisek’s eye-popping reinvention of the Folger venue. With lighting by Andrew F. Griffin, sound by Matt Otto, projection design by Francesca Talenti, and stunning costumes by Mariah Hale, as a regular Folger theater-goer I was dumbstruck by what has been accomplished (including hiding the infamous pillars at stage right and left.). I find myself in a place full of digital gadgets, LED scrolling images and even characters’ entrances enhanced names brightly depicted on a screen as they came into view. Then in Act II, as fortune was fickle to Lord Timon, the same space becomes a forlorn homeless shelter in its look. Now that was a wow to my eyes.

    Folger’s Timon of Athens is verbal white heat. It is a combustible mix right for these currents of disruption and political quicksand. Was Timon undone by his goodness? As I wrote at the top of this review, I can’t go there even as Lord Timon’s rails against “false world,” and hates humanity. Do I pity the character of Lord Timon? That is difficult for me; for his own hubris does him in.

    But oh what a splendid production and oh, what a magnificent performance by Ian Merrill Peakes as Lord Timon. So, when you see it, please do comment and let me know what you think.

    Running Time: Two hours, with one intermission

    Timon of Athens plays through June 11, 2017, at Folger Theatre – 201 East Capitol Street, SE, in Washington, DC. For tickets, call the box office at (202) 544-7077, or purchase them online.

    Note: The performance utilizes strobe lights, theatrical haze, firearms, and loud noises. Children under the age of four are not permitted in the theater.

  • Review: ‘Mnemonic’ at Theater Alliance

    Review: ‘Mnemonic’ at Theater Alliance

    Just now when the world is wracked with wave upon wave of ethnic  animus—just now when our country has succumbed to xenophobia not seen on these shores for decades—there comes a work of theatrical art so richly imagined and so radically transformational that it causes a healing hush to fall over the audience.

    The cast of ‘Mnemonic.’ Photo by Teresa Wood.

    This happens early on in the show as we are treated by the actor Carlos Saldaña to a sort of Ted Talk about origins and memory. Standing before a frosted plastic curtain and addressing us on a hand mic, he amiably gains our trust such that we oblige him when he asks us to put on the blindfold that we were handed as we entered the theater.

    Slowly in our sightlessness the actor then coaches us into a visualization that becomes a startling perception: the recognition that the further back we trace our origins, the more we share the same cellular memory as members of the same species. We literally are all related to one another and “the more chaotic our inter-relationships.” No one is ever other. We are linked in our origins, in our migrating genealogies, in “the pattern of our ancestry.”

    The gift of that indelible moment sets in motion the unforgettable play named Mnemonic.

    I first saw Mnemonic some fifteen years ago when Complicité, the British theater company that devised it under the direction of Simon McBurney, brought it to New York. The moment I just described has never left me, as I suspect it will not anyone who sees Theater Alliance’s absorbing production now.

    What happens next works in the head in ways only obliquely related to what happens on stage. That is the particular genius of this theater piece. It has two interweaving story lines that are only tangentially related. They’re really more like complementary metaphors than two intertwined plots, two parts that make a whole other whole.

    In one of the story lines, Saldaña becomes Virgil, a man whose partner Alice abruptly left him nine months ago. He is bereft. Eventually they make long-distance cell phone contact and she tells him she’s on a quest in Eastern Europe to find traces of the father whose identity she only recently learned. Virgil’s and Alice’s story is a tale of love lost and not quite restored; a saga of roots lost and not quite found. It’s a human-interest narrative that by itself could fill a play with engaging relationship drama. And Teresa Spencer is terrific in the role of Alice. Her presence and assertion of self make an enormous contribution to the veracity of what transpires.

    The cast of ‘Mnemonic.’ Photo by Teresa Wood.

    The other story line is about a scientific discovery in the Austrian Alps: the frozen body of the so-called Iceman (represented by Saldaña nude), who lived some 5,000 years ago. As the Iceman’s clothing, artifacts, and corpse are analyzed to reveal details about who he was, what he was doing there, how he lived and died, Alice is simultaneously learning details about who her father was, what he was doing where she sought him, and how he lived and died. The effect of taking in these two biographical dossiers in overlapping stage time but vastly distant in geography and generation makes for an extraordinary experience in theater. Mnemonic is unique in that it is everyday story telling, yet it seems more like found mythology. Almost mystically the stage action of Mnemonic comes to stand for our personal and collective understanding that we stem from a common family tree.

    Saldaña and Spencer are joined by a gifted and versatile ensemble who play multiple supporting roles: Jon Reynolds, Vanita Kalra, Elena Day, Jonathan David Martin, and Michael Burgos. Besides their physical and mimetic agility they prove adept at delivering lines in multiple languages. This has the marvelous effect of underscoring what is truly global in the meaning of Mnemonic.

    Director Colin Hovde has conceived a production so faithful to the magic in the material one cannot but wonder wide-eyed how it was done. He is ably aided by Movement Director Dody DiSanto, who creates vivid tableaux. And Scenic Designer Tony Cisek turns Anacostia Playhouse into a proscenium stage full of surprises, notably set pieces spun around between scenes by the actors in a whirling blur.

    Costume Designer Danielle Preston locates the actors nicely in the here and now, even as the show’s scope sweeps us elsewhere and long ago. And Sound Designer Matthew M. Nelson creates a realistic aural world even as the stage world goes surreal, as it does often thanks to dazzling work by Lighting Designer William K. D’Eugenio and Projections Designer Patrick W. Lord. Special props to Properties Artisan Alex Vernon, who turns an ordinary item of furniture into an astonishing creature.

    Theater Alliance’s Mnemonic is not only thrilling theater. It is a stirring and uplifting parable of our profound kinship. And in these troubling times for our disunited extended family, Mnemonic is welcome as rain during a drought.

    Running Time: One hour and 40 minutes, with no intermission.

    Mnemonic plays through April 9, 2017, at Theater Alliance, performing at The Anacostia Playhouse – 2020 Shannon Place SE, in Washington, DC. For tickets, purchase them online.

  • Review: ‘The Mountaintop’ at People’s Light & Theatre Company

    Review: ‘The Mountaintop’ at People’s Light & Theatre Company

    The Mountaintop is a fantasia rooted in one of the most tragic events of the twentieth century. Set on the final night in the life of Rev. Martin Luther King Jr., Katori Hall’s play takes King into an alternate plane that views his life, and death, from a radically different perspective. While the journey Hall takes King on has a few unexpected turns, it ultimately humanizes him and placing his message in a modern context.

    Patrese D. McClain and Bowman Wright. Photo by Mark Garvin.
    Patrese D. McClain and Bowman Wright. Photo by Mark Garvin.

    Hall sets her play in King’s suite at the Lorraine Motel on April 3, 1968, the night before King was assassinated while standing just outside that suite. (Tony Cisek’s set design depicts a room so decrepit that it makes King’s struggles palpable.) In the play’s opening moments, we see King returning to his room just after delivering his final speech – the one in which he seemed to foresee his imminent fate:

    I’ve been to the mountaintop…. And I’ve seen the Promised Land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the Promised Land.

    But the Martin Luther King we see here is not the masterful orator who spoke with such fire that night, the one we’re used to seeing in newsreels and history books. Worn out by travelling and death threats, and missing his family, he coughs, paces the floor nervously, peers through the curtains, and checks his phone for FBI bugging devices. And after ordering room service, he engages in a long conversation with Camae, a pretty young maid who has just started working at the Lorraine that day.

    A lively spirit with a vulgar vocabulary, Camae is like no one King has met before. She’s also quite aware of King’s reputation as a philanderer. As they flirt and share cigarettes, she brings out a lighthearted side of King. But eventually their conversation takes a serious turn as she reveals something that leads him, and the play, in a different direction.

    The play’s second half finds King confronting his legacy, pondering his imminent death, and seeing how his message will be treated when he’s not around to deliver it. It’s a fascinating concept. Peculiarly, though, Hall has her fictional version of King come to embrace a new age-style theology that seems miles away from the Baptist faith that the real King preached. It comes off more like a 21st century reinterpretation of King than the real thing.

    The Mountaintop also takes a left turn from reality into fantasy, one that is disorienting at first but which eventually pays off by explicitly connecting King with the civil rights struggles of the present day. References added to the play since its 2011 Broadway run, which demonstrate how the list of victims of racial violence keeps expanding, add power to the play’s climax.

    Bowman Wright doesn’t imitate King – his timbre doesn’t have the depth or gravity of King’s – yet he is completely believable as the genuine, fragile man behind the larger-than-life hero.

    As Camae, Patrese D. McClain bursts with nervous excitement at first, using an exaggerated Southern drawl (she calls King “Preacher Kang”). McClain’s charm, coupled with her strong chemistry with Wright, makes for a winning performance.

    Bowman Wright and Patrese D. McClain. Photo by Mark Garvin.
    Bowman Wright and Patrese D. McClain. Photo by Mark Garvin.

    The direction by Steve H. Broadnax III builds power gradually, delicately balancing comedy and drama. The drama culminates in a potent tableau that uses video (Katherine Freer is the Projection Designer), music (Justin Ellington) and lighting (Joshua L. Schulman) to augment Hall’s rich speeches.

    As Wright stands on the stage and invokes the names of Eric Garner, Trayvon Martin, and Michael Brown – while speaking of the need to pass the baton of freedom to future generations – Playwright Katori Hall delivers King’s message in a way that rings true today, louder than ever.

    Running Time: 95 minutes, with no intermission.

    14470517_10154616665132174_8999259876992403586_n

    The Mountaintop plays through October 30, 2016 at People’s Light & Theatre Company – 39 Conestoga Road, Malvern, PA. For tickets, call the box office at (610) 644-3500, or purchase them online.

  • In the Moment: Scenic Designer Tony Cisek on his Scenic Design for Folger’s ‘District Merchants’

    In the Moment: Scenic Designer Tony Cisek on his Scenic Design for Folger’s ‘District Merchants’

    Over the past nearly two decades, I have always anticipated what multi-Helen Hayes Award Scenic Designer Tony Cisek will bring forth on the Folger Theatre’s intimate stage space with its two iconic, permanent pillars standing so straight and muscular.

    Tony Cisek. Photo by Michael Key, Washington Blade.
    Tony Cisek. Photo by Michael Key of The Washington Blade.

    So, I looked forward to the wizardly Cisek’s scenic design for District Merchants, the new play using The Merchant of Venice as its touchstone, as written by Aaron Posner with direction by Michael John Garces.

    Both my DCMTA colleagues who reviewed and wrote about the play: Jeannette Quick, Sophia Howes, and Robert Michael Oliver were enthralled with District Merchants and its scenic design as was I.

    Cisek first came to my attention with his 1998 scenic design for Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing directed by Joe Banno at the Folger; Cisek received his first Helen Hayes for that design work.

    Craig Wallace (Antoine) and Matthew Boston (Shylock). Photo by Teresa Wood Photography.
    Craig Wallace (Antoine) and Matthew Boston (Shylock). Photo by Teresa Wood Photography.

    I had the honor of interviewing Tony. He made clear that his best scenic designs, “emerged with an open collaboration” with a production’s creative team. His own design starting point may be “scribbles on paper or napkins or the back of old scripts, but that is only a starting point. The initial set concepts are far from the finished product.” And a production’s scenic design takes many months to develop.

    For Cisek, a show’s set is inspired from “the script’s words and has a purpose to shape the space.” He wants his “scenic design to be provocative and illuminate.” In our interview and when we discussed District Merchants, Cisek gave much thanks and praise to playwright Aaron Posner and director Michael John Garces for their close collaboration in the design process as well that of assistant scenic designer Paige Hathaway.

    District Merchants takes place in Washington during the Reconstruction period of the 1870’s. When I asked directly about the permanent pillars on the Folger stage Cisek indicated he did not want “the two pillars to dominate the set or what the audience saw.” Since the play is set in a time of transition after the Civil War, Cisek “wanted a setting and place not of initial solidness and stability.” He wanted the Folger space “to appear asymmetrical to add depth and to give off a sense of dislocation.” He succeeded totally.

    The cast and Tony Cisek's set. Photo by Teresa Wood.
    The cast and Tony Cisek’s set. Photo by Teresa Wood.

    In District Merchants’ Act I, the Folger stage is in a condition of disarray with a watch-your-step aura. The audience sees building detritus litter the stage as if the ruins after too many a Civil War battle. But quickly the audiences understands that the building debris is not discarded rubbish, but the needed material for a city being renewed for a new generation of citizenry during tumultuous times.

    The Folger’s permanent pillars have been wrapped and are accompanied by a number of fabricated columns. Some of the fabricated columns stand tall, another is prone on the stage floor, while others are far from on the horizontal. There is scaffolding and other building paraphernalia strewn about. Things are just askew. All the while even before one word of dialogue, the audience hears sounds of hammering and sawing. James Bigbee Garver did the sound design.

    When Act II of District Merchants opens, the audience witnesses the heavy appearing fabricated columns raised into place to stand tall and strong (helped by unseen hinges and a sand bag to give a sense of weight and substance as an almost unnoticed actor uses a hand rope pulley to raise a column from the floor). There is even the sound of the final capping of one last column. The Folger stage space had been transformed into a dramatic framing devise for the final scenes of District Merchants.

    Portia (Maren Bush) and Nessa (Celeste Jones). Photo by Teresa Wood.
    Portia (Maren Bush) and Nessa (Celeste Jones) in ‘District Merchants.’ Photo by Teresa Wood.

    District Merchants Assistant scenic designer Paige Hathaway provided additional information about the District Merchants set design in this Folger blog entry.

    Two key paragraphs from Hathaway are here: “Our research process began with images depicting this era; cities that were ravaged by battle, buildings that were blown apart, as well as the construction of the federalist buildings in our capitol that have come to represent America. In particular, Tony was intrigued by the primitive temporary structures that were created to help aid construction, seeking to depict a clearly American structure in the midst of being rebuilt.”

    “Additionally, he needed to create a space that was still, ultimately, theatrical. There was no attempt to disguise the structure of the Folger itself, as much of Playwright Aaron Posner’s dialogue purposefully acknowledges theatrical conventions and the audience itself.”

    Finally, in program notes, Dramaturg Ayanna Thompson wrote: “The subtitle for Posner’s play is An Uneasy Comedy, and the play invites audiences to engage in uneasy conversations about history, relationships, and the potential for radically different futures. Who could ask for more?”  And Tony Cisek’s scenic design adds volumes of unspoken commentary for those uneasy conversations. Cisek’s inspired, superb design shapes the District Merchants visuals for what director Michael John Garces described as the imperfect nature of a “morally treacherous terrain.” Just with some fabricated columns, well-placed debris and from a creative talent who is truly a wizard.

    Running Time: Two and one-half hours, with one 15-minute intermission.

    DistrictWIDE2

    District Merchants plays through July 3, 2016 at the Folger Theatre – 201 East Capitol Street SE, in Washington, DC. For tickets, call the box office at (202) 544-7077, or purchase them online.

  • Dangereuse: Reconstructing Shylock: ‘District Merchants’ at the Folger Theatre

    Dangereuse: Reconstructing Shylock: ‘District Merchants’ at the Folger Theatre

    Freud said, “When a delusion cannot be dissipated by the facts of reality, it probably does not spring from reality.” This is the essence of prejudice. In showing us a more human side of Shylock (Matthew Boston), and casting an African-American, Craig Wallace, as Antoine (Shakespeare’s Antonio), Aaron Posner has produced an incisive study of power and oppression.

    Craig Wallace (Antoine) and Matthew Boston (Shylock). Photo by Teresa Wood Photography.
    Craig Wallace (Antoine) and Matthew Boston (Shylock). Photo by Teresa Wood Photography.

    Set in 1870’s Reconstruction DC, District Merchants, a world premiere, is a variation of Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice. The play focuses on the two central characters, Shylock and Antoine. Matthew Boston’s Shylock is slim, edgy, and always in motion. He rages and storms, eyes round with anguish, against discrimination, against injustice, against fate. Several of his siblings have died, and so has his wife. Antoine, as played by Wallace, is a stoic, well-dressed businessman, proud yet acutely aware of the suffering of his people. Both Boston and Wallace give memorable performances. In Shakespeare’s play, Shylock and Portia stand out as the sharpest intellects and as natural enemies. Antoine and Shylock are like Sherlock Holmes and Moriarty. They are twinned in our imaginations; it will be a duel to the death, but in the end they are curiously, inescapably alike.

    Both have entirely justified grievances. In October 1870’s Atlantic magazine, James Parton wrote a sympathetic account of the persecution of the Jewish people, Our Israelitish Brethren. He notes that in Rome, Jews at that time were not allowed to study art, practice law or medicine, or sing in public. The Jews were scapegoated in the 1873 European-American market crash; German politicians and investors blamed “Jewish financiers.” During the Civil War General Grant famously issued Order #11, expelling Jews from Mississippi, Tennessee, and Kentucky. (The Order was later revoked by Lincoln.)

    On the African-American side, blacks, who at that time were approximately one-third of the DC population, were usually domiciled in the swampy, unpleasant parts of town. White violence against blacks was endemic in the Southern states. The Ku Klux Klan would drag people out of their homes and whip them or burn them. When black men held public office, racists would spread rumors that they were illiterate and incompetent.

    In a moment of the play which may rightly become widely celebrated, Shylock selects an audience member (the night I saw it, the gentleman’s name was David) and singles him out for the kind of abuse Shylock has lived with all his life. “David,” he growls, his voice dripping with contempt. “One of those….Davids.”  You can fill in the blank, of course, with any number of words. “Jew”, “African American”, “rube”, “homosexual”, “trailer trash” or, in a political context, “liberal” or “conservative”, if enunciated with the requisite scorn.

    On the website Quartz, an article by Nikhil Sonnad entitled America’s favorite insults by political affiliation, (11/14/14) reports on an analysis by Katherine Martin, a lexicographer with Oxford Dictionaries. Oxford has a unique database which monitors thousands of websites to examine word usage over time. The study concludes that “hack” most often follows the word “liberal”, and “extremist” commonly comes after “Republican”, “right wing”, or “conservative.” In the U.S., liberals are associated more with “elitists” and conservatives with “misogynists”. And then there are the standard insults which made it into the top ten of both groups: “idiot”, “wacko”, and of course “blowhard”. Whichever side you are on, you are apparently pretty sure that the other one is destroying America.

    Dani Stoler (Jessica) and William Vaughan (Lorenzo). Photo by Teresa Wood Photography.
    Dani Stoler (Jessica) and William Vaughan (Lorenzo). Photo by Teresa Wood Photography.

    During the Reconstruction, African-American women generally could only obtain jobs as maids, cooks, or laundresses. Portia (Maren Bush), as a white woman, like her maid Nessa (Celeste Jones) has no role in the official power structure despite her wealth. As far as law school in DC, she would have had the choice of Georgetown or National Law School (which later became George Washington University School of Law). Here, Portia, and Nessa are friends, to the extent they can be. They speak openly of the racial and economic gap between them. This disparity leads to tension in their relationship, and at one point, Nessa conceals an important fact from Portia. Celeste Jones as Nessa gives a compelling yet nuanced performance. Maren Bush’s Portia is well-meaning and sensitive. Her reaction when she discovers suitor Ben Bassanio’s secret is a high point of the production.

    Seth Rue’s Benjamin Bassanio is a very likeable young man, even when, as he ruefully admits, he is lying through his teeth. He has a warm relationship with father figure Antoine, and he is especially fine in his scenes with Portia. Many blacks did attempt to “pass” for white at this period, as Bassanio does here.  Some African-Americans viewed “passing” as an abandonment of the obligation to help other blacks. The actor is so friendly and down to earth that it is not difficult to accept this strategy.

    Akeem Davis, as Bassanio’s servant, Lancelot, proves to be a gifted comedian. Dani Stoller’s Jessica appears mesmerized by her Lorenzo (William Vaughan). At that time, Jewish women had to sit in the gallery of the synagogue, because of their supposed “delicacy”. Jewish men recited the morning blessing, “Blessed art thou, O Lord our God, who hast not made me a heathen, who hast not made me a slave, who has not made me a WOMAN.”

    Jessica’s father, Shylock, is controlling to the point of absurdity, so it is no mystery why she might want to run away, love affair or no love affair. Lorenzo, whose main disadvantage seems to be poverty, is a voluble hayseed in the tradition of Andy Griffith. Well-played by Vaughan, he is good-natured and has the sense not to mention that he is in some ways less oppressed than the others. Jessica and Lorenzo’s scenes are among the most appealing of the evening.

    Costume design by Megan Raham suits the play perfectly. The actors’ clothes are just interesting enough to catch the eye without interfering with the performances. DC-based, Grammy-nominated hip-hop artist Christylez Bacon has composed a very attractive score containing elements of Jewish culture, such as Klezmer music, and African-American culture, such as go-go. Geoff Korf (Lighting Design) and James Garver (Sound Design) maintain this standard of excellence.

    Tony Cisek’s set embodies the very concept of the Reconstruction. Stately Ionic columns grace the stage, with one column still under construction. In a way, this symbolizes Reconstruction’s bold effort to restore American ideals of liberty and justice for all. It is reminiscent of a well-known contemporary lithograph by an artist named John Lawrence Giles, now in the Library of Congress. It depicts an allegory of reconciliation between North and South.

    The government is represented as a broad, pavilion-like structure with a frieze showing the Senate, the House of Representatives, the Supreme Court, and the Cabinet. The outside ring of columns represents the states. The old bases of the Confederate columns are being removed. They are called “The Foundations of Slavery.” The new ones contain the words “Justice, Liberty, and Education”

    Portia (Maren Bush) and Nessa (Celeste Jones). Photo by Teresa Wood.
    Portia (Maren Bush) and Nessa (Celeste Jones). Photo by Teresa Wood.

    Of course, Reconstruction did not last. In 1876, Rutherford B. Hayes won a disputed election. He withdrew federal troops from the South, and ultimately presided over the end of Reconstruction. White Democrats once again began to control the South. And at the turn of the century came the long dark night of Jim Crow.

    Director Michael John Garces has designed the production to form a bond between actors and audience. The actors talk to the spectators as a friend might, in a sincere, natural way. Because this approach dissolves the boundary between actor and audience, the 4th wall is unnecessary, and performers can do what they do best; connect with the audience.

    Matthew Boston, in an interview with NPR’s  Kojo Nnamdi, discusses how far Shylock is driven by his own pain. “We all have our metaphorical pounds of flesh,” he adds.

    The power structure is left unchanged, despite the value of love and forgiveness. Still, the horror of prejudice has been confronted, and eviscerated. What could be more relevant?

    District Merchants, besides being an engrossing piece of theatre, contains many lessons for today. Don’t miss it.

    Running Time: Two and one-half hours, with one 15-minute intermission.

    728

    District Merchants plays through July 3, 2016 at the Folger Theatre – 201 East Capitol Street SE, in Washington, DC. For tickets, call the box office at (202) 544-7077, or purchase them online.

    LINKS:
    Review: ‘District Merchants’ at Folger Theatre by Jeanette Quick.

    Spine: Love, Greed, and Bigotry in The Folger’s ‘District Merchants’ by Robert Michael Oliver.

  • Spine: Love, Greed, and Bigotry in The Folger’s ‘District Merchants’

    Spine: Love, Greed, and Bigotry in The Folger’s ‘District Merchants’

    There’s no question that Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice is a problem play, fraught with old hates that were once considered justified and old beliefs that have long lost their hold on the European mind.

    Maren Bush (Portia) and Celeste Jones (Nessa). Photo by Teresa Wood Photography.
    Portia (Maren Bush) and Nessa (Celeste Jones). Photo by Teresa Wood.

    There is also no question that the Folger’s presentation of Aaron Posner’s reinvention of the play, under the title of District Merchants, addresses the play’s issues with humor, slangy lingo, current references, and a good heaping of contemporary sensibility.

    Born in a society that still viewed “usury” as a sin (for the Elizabethan, “usury” meant the charging of any interest on loans at all), The Merchant of Venice‘s core disturbance could not be more remote to modern audiences. In fact, in today’s world even the 400% interest charged for payday loans is considered A-okay by most political elites.

    In the Inferno, however, Dante reserved the seventh circle of hell (that’s only two away from Satan himself) for those who do violence against art (or the creations of the artisan, i.e., that which is created through their skilled labor). Making money off the labor of others through the charging of interest was only one such way. In other words, from the Elizabethan perspective, making money off of money is considered a crime against God.

    Craig Wallace (Antoine) and Matthew Boston (Shylock). Photo by Teresa Wood Photography.
    Craig Wallace (Antoine) and Matthew Boston (Shylock). Photo by Teresa Wood Photography.

    By contrast, in modern America, making money from money has become our way of life; not only is it the fastest growing sector of the US economy, but the artisan is fast becoming a quaint relic of an archaic past, or possibly the hip painter, poet, or theatre artist who sells their “wares” to an expanding American upper class.

    Yet, The Merchant of Venice rests firmly on a belief that considers such a practice sinful and, on the parallel assertion (or denial of fact), that Christians might have anything to do with that particular sin.

    Hence, Shakespeare summons the anti-Semitic stereotype of Shylock, the Jewish money lender.

    Given our society’s continuing struggle against anti-Semitic sentiments, modern producers focus more on this bigoted byproduct of the play than on its usurious core.

    Aaron Posner is no exception.

    In District Merchants Shakespeare’s 20-plus character play has been reduced to 8 principles, three sets of young lovers and two old men.

    In Posner’s postmodern reinvention of the play, each character exists more as a time-hopping receptacle of sensibility than as a specific character within a place and time-bound plot. He or she is afforded the opportunity to stand before the audience and explain his or her perspective on life, on race and religion, on the meaning of existence through a “modern” lens.

    This move on Posner’s part elevates the character’s subjectivity and, in some sense, makes the play more about these eight “aggregated beings” who happen to be involved in a somewhat connected story about love and a pound of flesh.

    The old men are, of course, Shylock and Antoine, played respectively by Matthew Boston and Craig Wallace.

    Set in a post Civil War Washington, DC, Reconstruction is underway: America is being rebuilt after a bloody war, and Antoine (an African American) represents a rising new order with his opportunity to make it big by brokering loans to free and newly freed blacks.

    Shylock, however, holds the purse strings, doling out money as he sees fit and as the market will bear; and recently, Shylock has been rejecting clients that Antoine has sent him and, thus, denied Antoine the financial commissions his brokering would earn.

    One such client is the ultra-light-skinned “mulatto” Benjamin Bassanio (played by Seth Rue), who needs money not to start a business or build a home, but to “pass”  and woo a rich (and white) northeastern lady, Portia (played by Maren Bush), with whom he is smitten. If he can succeed, his fortune will be secured.

    Lorenzo (the white lover) is another fortune seeking young man (played by William Vaughan). He woos Jessica, Shylock’s daughter (played by Dani Stoller). Like Benjamin, Lorenzo’s motivation is also clouded by financial reward. If she will steal her father’s money and jewels, he too will have a successful life. The fact that he says he is willing to marry her anyway does not detract from those less than honorable desires.

    Dani Stoler (Jessica) and William Vaughan (Lorenzo). Photo by Teresa Wood Photography.
    Dani Stoler (Jessica) and William Vaughan (Lorenzo). Photo by Teresa Wood Photography.

    Both Portia and Jessica are strong, seemingly independent young women. Portia dresses as a man and attends Harvard Law, whereas Jessica is devotedly religious and would never consider abandoning her Jewish faith, as the Jessica in Merchant of Venice does.

    Even so, both of these young women fall victim to their fortune-seeking suitors, with Jessica even stealing her father’s money before she leaves with Lorenzo.

    Of course, in the end, “love” conquers the suitors’ misogynistic, greedy selves, transforming them into decent young men and, thus, truly desirable husbands.

    The other strong, determined young woman is Portia’s servant, Nessa (played by Celeste Jones). Her love interest is Shylock’s talkative servant, Lancelot (played by Akeem Davis). And the hope here is also that “love” will transform Lancelot into the desirable man that Nessa imagines him to be.

    These three love stories dominate the production’s focus, overshadowing the troubles at the dark center of the story, the usurious Shylock and his rival Antoine, the carpetbagger.

    By focusing on the love stories and on the transformation of the male psyche within the context of “love”, the play’s comic elements come to the fore. The malevolent core still resonates at times, but more as a potential dilemma than as an actual reality.

    Posner’s art is his ability to present to audiences old stories lived through his own contemporary sensibility.

    In this case, District Merchants becomes the odd fusion of Shakespeare, Reconstruction, and Aaron Posner himself. Where one begins and the another ends or begins or another begins or ends is not to be discerned.

    In this postmodern mixture you have to take things as they come at you. You might laugh one moment and sit in disgust the next. Most importantly, however, you should not remember what you laughed at or what left you shaking your head in disgust because the last thing you want to experience is the shame of laughing or being disgusted during politically incorrect moments. Who knows whose sensibilities you might offend?

    Running Time: 2 hours and 30 minutes, including an intermission.

    728

    District Merchants plays through July 3, 2016 at the Folger Theatre – 201 East Capitol Street SE, in Washington, DC. For tickets, call the box office at (202) 544-7077, or purchase them online.

  • Review: ‘District Merchants’ at Folger Theatre

    Review: ‘District Merchants’ at Folger Theatre

    District Merchants, in its world premiere at Folger Theatre, is a tour de force that explores the complexity of race and identity in Reconstruction-era America. As part of Folger Theatre’s 2016 celebration of 400 years of Shakespeare and in tandem with its exhibition America’s Shakespeare, Folger commissioned this very fine reimagining of Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice by Aaron Posner.

    Craig Wallace (Antoine) and Matthew Boston (Shylock). Photo by Teresa Wood Photography.
    Craig Wallace (Antoine) and Matthew Boston (Shylock). Photo by Teresa Wood Photography.

    Posner should be no stranger to DC-area theater lovers: besides being a long-time DC director and the author of more than a dozen plays, his excellent Stupid F—ing Bird (an adaptation of Chekhov’s The Seagull) debuted at Woolly Mammoth in 2013 and was such a blow-out success that it returned in 2014. Indeed, Stupid F—ing Bird was one of the top ten plays produced in the entire United States last year.

    Theater J debuted his Life Sucks (or The Present Ridiculous), an adaptation of Chekhov’s Uncle Vanya, in 2015, another affecting production that explored the delicate balance of life constantly teetering between ridiculous hilarity and despondency.

    Well, Mr. Posner, you’ve done it again. This time, you’ve taken on the master, the big Mr. S., and you’ve nailed it. District Merchants explodes with layers of complexity and this production, directed by Michael John Garcés, a company member at Woolly Mammoth and Artistic Director of LA’s Cornerstone Theater, is not to be missed.

    The play primarily takes place in post-Civil War Washington, DC, where people grapple with a world of transition and reconciling the sins of slavery with America’s future. Shylock is a Jewish moneylender and overprotective father of Jessica, a young woman who yearns to escape from her father’s gaze, and employer of Lancelot (Akeem Davis), a recently freed slave who wonders why he continues to work for a harsh master. Antoine, a Black businessman, is a father figure to Benjamin Bassanio (Seth Rue), who in turn loves the beautiful and ambitious Portia (Maren Bush) and is best friends with Lorenzo (William Vaughan). Portia employs Nessa (Celeste Jones), an intelligent foil to Portia’s professed progressivism.

    The action focuses on the struggles for Black Americans – both those that had been slaves and those that had not – during this era as well as Jewish Americans and the discrimination and marginalization that both experience. Posner has faced the most problematic aspect of Shakespeare’s play here full-on: he turns the question of anti-Semitism on its head, layering in the difficult relationships between two groups historically treated as “Other” in America.

    Many people regard The Merchant of Venice as Shakespeare’s most distressing play, as its apparent anti-Semitism can never seem to be adequately justified. Is Shylock a sympathetic character, one whose actions we can comprehend or with whose pain we can emphathize? Critics of Shakespeare tend to think the answer to this question is that we cannot; that the original words of Shakespeare exploit negative Jewish stereotypes in a way that is meant to offer comic resolution, not sympathy. However, this Shylock, in a fantastic performance by Matthew Boston, is beleaguered and full of pain. He is mistreated again and again; he is abandoned by his daughter Jessica (Dani Stoller); he feels like a man who has at the end of his rope, who has no choice but to act out against Antoine (Craig Wallace) just to be able to exert some power in his life.

    And this is a theme throughout the play: the exercise of power or, rather, the painful lack of power that so many individuals have simply because of their skin color or gender. In a world where doors are shut for women, Blacks, and Jews, we see various characters “passing” for what they are not. Every person struggles, in his or her own way, against both society’s limitations and the limitations of their own character and will to effect change.

    The set, designed by Tony Cisek, purposely evokes a city that is being rebuilt: the pillars are half-finished, exposing a construction scene behind it. The pillars conjure Rome, a reminder of the greatness of the American Experiment, the intention that America would itself be a great nation, a new society of promise. However, the evocation of Rome introduces an interesting element to the backdrop of the city in transition: is America in the process of being rebuilt or will it, like Rome, fall of its own corruptions? Is this a city in rebirth or decline? The answer may not yet be answered.

    It is worth noting that the music is created by Christylez Bacon, another homegrown District virtuoso. Bacon – who performs throughout the area, often collaborating with international musicians in innovative and unique performances – is a Grammy Award-nominated progressive hip-hop artist and multi-instrumentalist, not least of which is wizardry with spoons and his own beatbox.

    Dani Stoler (Jessica) and William Vaughan (Lorenzo). Photo by Teresa Wood Photography.
    Dani Stoler (Jessica) and William Vaughan (Lorenzo). Photo by Teresa Wood Photography.

    The entire cast is very fine: every character is played with remarkable depth and energy. There are several astonishing moments in the production: in one scene, Bush exhibits an extraordinary range of facial expression, flushing through a dozen complex emotions in an extended silent and awkward scene. Boston’s monologue – the famous “Do we not bleed?” speech by Shylock – is remarkably powerful and uncomfortable, partly due to an unnerving direct interaction with the audience (at this production, it happened to be with Ari Roth, of Mosaic Theater Company of DC) that exposes the raw anguish at being part of a group that is treated as Other by society.

    It is no stretch to read currents of present-day conflicts, of Ferguson, of Baltimore, of rising xenophobia in this country against many groups, in this play. This play is not merely a tale of marginalization and struggles after the Civil War: while America may bear the long shadow of slavery, it bears still many wounds that continue to be inflicted, day after day. We cannot heal while we are still in the act of harming, and hurting.

    728

    District Merchants plays through July 3, 2016 at the Folger Theatre – 201 East Capitol Street SE, in Washington, DC. For tickets, call the box office at (202) 544-7077, or purchase them online.

    RATING: FIVE-STARS-82x1552.gif

  • Review: ‘Disgraced’ at Arena Stage

    Review: ‘Disgraced’ at Arena Stage

    If you think we are over-saturated with passionate discussions of race, gender, nationality, and religion during this chaotic election year — think again. There is still much to be probed, and learned. The highly personal issues of identity and loyalty that underlie our fractious society are given brilliant voice in Ayad Akhtar’s Disgraced, winner of a 2013 Pulitzer Prize and the most-produced play of the 2015/2016 theater season. Under the assured direction of Timothy Douglas, Arena Stage’s new production makes a unique and eloquent contribution to the dialogue.

    Joe Isenberg as Isaac, Nehal Joshi as Amir, Ivy Vahanian as Emily and Felicia Curry as Jory. Photo by C. Stanley Photography.
    Joe Isenberg as Isaac, Nehal Joshi as Amir, Ivy Vahanian as Emily and Felicia Curry as Jory. Photo by C. Stanley Photography.

    Using only five characters, one set, and 90 minutes without intermission, Akhtar explores the tensions that exist between African-Americans, Jews, and Muslims, and addresses urgent questions about assimilation and American identity, using a gorgeous Upper East Side apartment as his social laboratory.

    Amir, a successful mergers and acquisitions attorney at a Jewish law firm in New York, eased his way up the ladder partially by changing his name and masking his Muslim heritage. By contrast, his gorgeous white wife Emily, a talented artist, champions Islamic pictorial traditions, claiming that their contributions to aesthetics have been unfairly neglected by Westerners. When Emily teams with Amir’s impressionable nephew Abe to encourage Amir to honor his roots by meeting with an imam perhaps unjustly charged with raising money for terrorists, Amir hesitates but ultimately agrees, setting in motion an ultimately tragic chain of events.

    Amir’s tortured relationship with his origins, which he has rejected intellectually but that still exert a powerful emotional pull, are further exposed in the pivotal, incendiary encounter with Isaac, a Jewish museum curator who is attracted to Emily’s work (and to Emily herself), and his African-American wife Jory, a powerhouse attorney also employed by Amir’s firm.  During dinner at Amir and Emily’s apartment – ostensibly to celebrate Emily’s inclusion in Isaac’s upcoming exhibition —  mild but awkward banter about racial profiling in airports takes on a steadily more ominous tone. As Amir drinks to excess, the conversation moves on to Muslim philosophy, the meaning of 9-11, Israel’s right to exist, and who, exactly, are America’s true underdogs. By the end of this brutal, knock-out scene, which takes a number of breathtaking twists, Akhtar’s gloves-off dialogue elicits audible gasps from the audience.

    Samip Raval as Abe and Nehal Joshi as Amir. Photo by C. Stanley Photography.
    Samip Raval as Abe and Nehal Joshi as Amir. Photo by C. Stanley Photography.

    Disgraced demands strong and fearless performances by all of its actors, and the Arena cast proves equal to the task. Nehal Joshi plays Amir with the bravado of a successful attorney who is nonetheless extremely sensitive to the identity he has forged. As his subterfuge is discovered, he becomes increasingly agitated and ultimately bewildered by his fate.

    Ivy Vahanian as Emily is by turns sensual, idealistic, and ambitious. A staunch supporter of her husband, she becomes horrified by his actions, and also her own, causing her to rethink both her life and her art. Felicia Curry plays Jory with the strutting confidence of a woman who has learned how to bargain and succeed in penetrating the upper echelons of a major firm. The character of Isaac has somewhat less definition than the others, but Joe Isenberg inhabits this consummate New Yorker easily, using his professional power to attract Emily and providing an effective foil to Amir’s steadily increasing bellicosity.

    Samip Raval, as Amir’s nephew, aches with the confusion that comes with growing up in a hostile society. He wobbles between assimilation and militancy – mirrored in part by his name-changing from Hussein to Abe and ultimately back to Hussein. We watch sadly as his life, like Amir’s, begins to skid off the rails.

    Costume Designer Toni-Leslie James does a masterful job of defining the characters and accentuating their changes over the brief timespan encompassed by the play. Amir’s smartly cut suits and remarked-upon $600 shirts give way to a decidedly less powerful cardigan sweater. Abe signals his transition into a more defiant posture with a switch from urban grunge to traditional Muslim attire. Jory’s sexy, tight pantsuit and killer stilettos are a stark contrast to the relaxed threads of her arty, intellectual spouse.

    Nehal Joshi as Amir, with Joe Isenberg, Felicia Curry and Ivy Vahanian. Photo by C. Stanley Photography.
    Nehal Joshi as Amir, with Joe Isenberg, Felicia Curry and Ivy Vahanian. Photo by C. Stanley Photography.

    Set Designer Tony Cisek’s magnificent temple to New York success is decorated in cool greys, rich teaks, and understated but obviously expensive furnishings. Every object is thoughtfully placed in the spacious living and dining area, including Emily’s star painting, an homage to Islamic design.  A balcony, the envy of most New Yorkers, overlooks the lit-up Chrysler Building. The extraordinary tastefulness of the apartment ultimately heightens the tragedy when it, like the central character himself, unravels.  Sensitive lighting by Michael Gilliam ushers us from one scene to the next. He, and Sound Designer Fitz Patton, who is also responsible for original composition, move us convincingly through the visual, psychological, and aural tumult that concludes this amazing play.

    Ayad Akhtar tells us that his own questions about ethnicity and religiosity, plus his interest in the question of fate, inspired the creation of Disgraced. We are indeed lucky to have such a clear and original voice added to the discussion of our most urgent cultural concerns.

    Running Time: 90 minutes, with no intermission.

    show-page-disgraced02

    Disgraced plays through May 29, 2016 at Arena Stage at the Mead Center for American Theater – 1101 Sixth Street, SW, in Washington, DC. For tickets, call 202-488-3300, or purchase them online.

    RATING: FIVE-STARS-82x1546.gif

  • Magic Time! ‘Father Comes Home From the Wars (Parts 1, 2 & 3)’ at Round House Theatre

    Magic Time! ‘Father Comes Home From the Wars (Parts 1, 2 & 3)’ at Round House Theatre

    The production of Suzan-Lori Parks’ acclaimed three-part saga now having its regional premiere at Round House Theatre is some of the most amazing storytelling I’ve seen on stage. Amazing on account of the stories themselves, and equally amazing on account of how they are told.

    Craig Wallace. Photo by Cheyenne Michaels.
    Craig Wallace. Photo by Cheyenne Michaels.

    In an essay titled “Possession,” Parks gives this provocative inkling about what she’s up to:

    [T]heater, for me, is the perfect place to “make” history—that is, because so much of African-American history has been unrecorded, dismembered, washed out, one of my tasks as playwright is to–through literature and the special strange relationship between theater and real life—locate the ancestral burial ground, dig for bones, find bones, hear the bones sing, write it down.

    And that’s exactly what Parks does in Father Comes Home…  The language alone—an idiocyncratic mix of imagery and idiom, delivered by an extraordinary acting ensemble—is unmistakably alive, a unique aural experience of passion, poetry, and proclaiming. Not to mention the pleasures of the play’s political profundity, its touching truisms, its comedy, its twists and turns.

    The play begins in 1862 on a plantation, where four “less than desirable slaves” as  the playscript calls them (Jefferson A. Russell, Jon Hudson Odom, Stori Ayers, and Ian Anthony Coleman) are trying to guess whether Hero (Jaben Early), also a slave, will leave with their owner, who’s headed off to join the Confederate Army and wants his loyal lackey along. Hero’s decision is fraught with complications, and the way Parks plays them out and strings everyone along is utterly engrossing. There are complex relationships to reveal between Hero and Homer (Kenyatta Rogers) and between Hero and Penny (Valeka J. Holt). By the time Hero declares he’s going, the stakes of the story have scaled to the epic heights of Greek tragedy: an enslaved “Colored man” who’s serving his “Boss-Master-Boss” who’s serving in battle on the side that’s defending slavery.

    “All we’ve got is the trust between us,” counsels The Oldest Old Man (Craig Wallace). Yet as the drama about Hero’s choice unfolds, Parks lets us see clearly how it’s a Hobson’s choice—and how easily what tethers these characters together could be severed in this system where they have no say.

    One of the many powerful achievements of the play is Parks’ portrayal of the way “race” gets projected and parlayed in the systematic privileging of “white.” In her essay “An Equation for Black People OnStage,” Parks poses these questions:

    Can a White person be present onstage and not be an oppressor? Can a Black person be onstage and be other than oppressed? For the Black writer, are there Dramas other than race dramas? Does Black life consist of issues other than race issues?

    Parks herself takes up the challenge in those questions—in three plays that take place in the Civil War South!—with unique and astonishing ingenuity and artistry.

    Michael Kevin Darnall, Tim Getman and JaBen Early. Photo by Cheyenne Michaels.
    Michael Kevin Darnall, Tim Getman and JaBen Early. Photo by Cheyenne Michaels.

    Part 2 is set in a wooded area where a Confederate Colonel (Tim Getman) and his captive, a Union Captain (Michael Kevin Darnall), are lost somewhere midway between their respective approaching armies. Hero enters carrying the wood and water his master directed him to fetch, and what follows is an extraordinary sequence of scenes on the themes of race, freedom, and human worth that are no less insightful for being hilariously entertaining. The poppycock Colonel, for instance, has a show-stopping monologue that begins, “I am grateful every day that God made me white” and ends “For no matter how far I fall, and no matter how thoroughly I fail, I will always be white.” The night I saw the show, I heard gasps of recognition that dared not breathe, the uneasy sounds of squirming, explosive guffaws. Was it meant to be funny? In her essay titled “Elements of Style,” Parks  tips us off to her revolutionary use of humor:

    Laughter is very powerful—it’s not a way of escaping anything but a way of arriving on the scene. Think about laughter and what happens to your body—it’s almost the same thing as throwing up.

    The overarching and cumulative effect of this masterwork, masterfully directed by Timothy Douglass, is an experience of brazenly original storytelling and blazingly theatrical style that will keep you riveted—and your mind in a state of being blown all during and long after.

    Running Time: 3 hours, with two 10-minute intermissions.

    10156132_10153286760008085_5088117296463317431_n (1)

    Father Comes Home from the War plays through October 4, 2015 at Round House Theatre – 4545 East-West Highway, in Bethesda, MD. For tickets, call the box office at (240) 644-1100, or purchase them online.

    LINK:
    David Siegel reviews Father Comes Home From the Wars (Parts 1, 2 & 3) on DCMetroTheaterArts.

  • Review: ‘Father Comes Home from the War (Parts 1, 2 & 3)’ at Round House Theatre

    Review: ‘Father Comes Home from the War (Parts 1, 2 & 3)’ at Round House Theatre

    Round House Theatre has crafted a formidable artistic statement for Suzan-Lori Parks’ inventive, no make that commanding, Father Comes Home from the War (Parts 1, 2 & 3). It is a quietly scorching production that will leave evident marks; a provocative fusion of uncomfortable factual American racial history and vivid dramatic fictionalized flair set in the early Civil War era.

    And I will not mince words, Father Comes Home from the War readily connects to contemporary times. The play speaks to freedom from bondage and the personal costs involved, well beyond merely the monetary. Along the way the audience is also treated to the potential fluidness of identity; of “passing” as the term might be used. The play’s clear mission was put well by Round House Producing Artistic Director Ryan Rilette in his program notes: “The historical journey of African-Americans from slavery to the present.”

    Craig Wallace. Photo by Cheyenne Michaels.
    Craig Wallace. Photo by Cheyenne Michaels.

    Expertly directed by New York based theater director Timothy Douglass, Parks’ Father Comes Home from the War (Parts 1, 2 & 3) is making its regional premiere at Round House. Douglass both incites the audience as well as brings us into the play’s difficult proceedings. Douglass and his top-notch creative team have presented the malleability and fluidity of life in Parks’ world.

    The three Parts of Father Comes Home from the War refer to the structure of Parks’ creatively composed script. Events are set during 1862-1863 on a small Southern plantation. Each of the three Parts has its own distinct cadence and rhythm and visual appearance. The Parts include the following.

    In Part 1: A Measure of a Man the audience is introduced to the central force of the play and around whom others gather, a slave named Hero (Jaben Early as an actively striking presence no matter what the situation). As his master, an astonishing Tim Getman is a very likeable character with a mask of politeness who never lets his slaves, the audience and most certainly himself forget, that he is White and that enhances his statue no matter what. When his master, a Confederate Colonel, goes off to war, Hero must choose whether or not to join him. If he joins his master, Hero will become a slave who wears a tattered Confederate uniform. Judicious arguments are for what Hero should do, both for and against, lead by The Oldest Old Man (God-like voiced Craig Wallace as a caring father-figure). A Greek Chorus of individuals join the discussion. Playwright Parks identifies them as a “Chorus of less than Desirable Slaves.”

    Part 2: A Battle in the Wilderness is a test of Hero’s loyalty to the Colonel. The test is certainly violent in its own way, though not by guns and bloodshed, but rather through calibrated very personalized debate for and against the concept of slavery between a captured wounded Yankee soldier (a quietly persuasive Michael Kevin Darnall who has no end of surprises for Hero and the audience) and with the Colonel. The Colonel holds that being White trumps all other aspects of life and is “on the summit” of existence.

    Part 2 also includes an arresting examination about the value and costs of slavery and freedom between Hero and the Yankee soldier. An astonishing turn-of-events that turns on how well a military jacket fits, that s best described as jaw-dropping providing a major twist to the proceedings. In a world where being white trumps all other aspects of life and is “on the summit” of existence.

    Then there is Part 3: The Union of My Confederate Part. It is a year a two after Part 1. Hero’s wife Penny (a deeply mournful Valeka J. Holt, who wears her psychic pain in the slouch of her figure and eyes large as sad moons) and another slave named Homer (Kenyatta Rogers, who wears a physically injury in the pulse of his sorrowful personage while seeking out real intimacy) on the plantation wondering if Hero will return. In the company of a trio of runaway slave, Penny and Homer uneasily wait sharing a deep secret. With Hero’s return and that of his Dog Oddsee (Craig Wallace again with brilliant insouciance), fireworks are set off with no cease fire in sight. At least not in Part 3.

    We do know that playwright Parks is expected to pen an additional six parts for Father Comes Home from the War turning it into a nine part epic not unlike The Odyssey and The Iliad. For those less with Suzan-Lori Parks, she is a MacArthur “genius” fellow and the first African-American to receive the Pulitzer Prize in Drama for Topdog/Underdog in 2002. In 2007 her 365 Days/365 Plays was produced throughout the US including here in the DC area. Her reimagined Porgy and Bess played in DC in December 2013. The late and greatly missed Sydney-Chanele Dawkins interviewed Parks for DC Theater Arts, not once but twice.

    The creative team for Father Comes Home from the War include Scenic Designer Tony Cisek. As the curtain rises, there is a drab slave cabin at audience left. At audience right is a ramp that rises to the wings and then connects to a long inclined elevated ramp like a road running the full length of the stage. This ridge-road has an architectural facing board with what looks like the arresting images of the late visual artist Keith Harding. The images are of stretching expressive figures with arms raised with all the strength they have holding up the weighty road.

    Michael Kevin Darnall, Tim Getman and JaBen Early. Photo by Cheyenne Michaels.
    Michael Kevin Darnall, Tim Getman and JaBen Early. Photo by Cheyenne Michaels.

    Helen Huang’s costume design used bits and pieces of cloth to make various whole outfits for each character. Clothing becomes a uniform that can be taken off or put on differently to make a “new” person. The feel of Huang’s costumes have characters’ strut or be low down. Lighting design by Andrew R. Cissna give each Part a sense of time through his color choices that differentiate the soft light early morning, the heat of high noon, and approach of evening.

    The production also features Memphis Gold, a DC area blues musician who sets up and closes out the Parts with his juke-joint electric blues guitar. His music and singing give hints of expectations and wrap-up statements.

    Let me quote from Round House Producing Artistic Director Rillette once again to close out my review of Father Comes Home from the War (Parts 1, 2 & 3). This unique and very contemporary production is “masterful.” It is right for our times and will withstand the test of time. I look forward to the next Parts that Parks has in store for us.

    Running Time: 3 hours, with two 10-minute intermissions.

    10156132_10153286760008085_5088117296463317431_n (1)

    Father Comes Home from the War plays through October 4, 2015 at Round House Theatre – 4545 East-West Highway, in Bethesda, MD. For tickets, call the box office at (240) 644-1100, or purchase them online.

    RATING: FIVE-STARS-82x1553.gif

  • ‘Stage Kiss’ at Round House Theatre (Review #2)

    ‘Stage Kiss’ at Round House Theatre (Review #2)

    The line between art and life become colorfully blurred when two actors are unexpectedly reunited in Pulitzer Prize and Tony Award nominee Sarah Ruhl’s romantic backstage comedy Stage Kiss, which made its regional opening premiere last night at Bethesda’s Round House Theatre.

    The cast of 'Stage Kiss.' Photo by Cheyenne Michaels.
    The cast of ‘Stage Kiss.’ Photo by Cheyenne Michaels.

    Set on a transitional, rotating stage (expansively designed by Tony Cisek), a nameless pair of performers, known only as “He” (Gregory Wooddell) and “She” (Dawn Ursula), are long-estranged lovers who find themselves, on the first day of rehearsal for a revival of a 1930s melodrama where they are cast as amorous leads. Initially, He and She are horrified at the thought of having to spend time in the same room, let alone get physical. After having to kiss repeatedly on-stage, their old passion is rekindled and the happenings off-stage begin to parallel the plot of the play.

    Director Aaron Posner skillfully segues between the cleverly constructed play-within-a-play framework which features a gifted comedic ensemble of seven talented actors who are each based in the DC area.

    Helen Hayes Award-winning actress Dawn Ursula is dynamic and exuberant as the conflicted She. Commanding powerful stage presence and exercising refined comedic timing, Ursula is convincing as an intense, but well-intentioned woman who delicately teeters between reality and make-belief. Employing precise body language and transparent facial expressions, Ursula leaves a lasting impression, particularly when She shares that living without her first love makes her feel like a “ghost person”.

    Gregory Wooddell’s He is charmingly confident, artfully blending sparkling swagger with a dash of uncertainty, pointedly pivoting in and out of reality. Wooddell also effectively renders him to be sympathetic and endearing, appealing to all those who encounter him.

    Dawn Ursula (She) and Todd Scofield (The Husband/Harrison). Photo by Cheyenne Michaels.
    Dawn Ursula (She) and Todd Scofield (The Husband/Harrison). Photo by Cheyenne Michaels.

    Todd Scofield is the incredibly insightful and stalwart husband  – the adult who is  grounded in reality – who reminds us that marriage is about repetition, the sun coming up and going down each day, but romance is everything but repetition.  Scofield drives the emotional narrative in a poetic and poignant matter that touchingly resonates.

    Posner draws exaggeratedly entertaining performances from the stellar supporting cast: Craig Wallace as the sublimely, self-important stage director; Michael Glenn as an eager, but untested, understudy; Rachel Zampelli as the perky, too nice girlfriend (garnering lingering laughs with her enunciated Midwestern accent); and Tyasia Velines as the outraged, no nonsense teenager.

    Wickedly witty and perplexingly provoking, Round House’s Stage Kiss is a uniquely earnest and elegant production that seamlessly navigates the twists and turns of love and romance with heart and soul.

    Running Time: Two hours and 25 minutes, including one intermission.

    Stage Kiss plays through December 27, 2015 at Round House Theatre – 4545 East-West Highway, in Bethesda, MD. For tickets, call the box office at (240) 644-1100, or purchase them online.

    LINK:
    John Stoltenberg reviews ‘Stage Kiss’ on DCMetroTheaterArts.

    RATING: FIVE-STARS-82x1555.gif

  • ‘Stage Kiss’ at Round House Theatre

    ‘Stage Kiss’ at Round House Theatre

    Plays about playmaking have an enduring appeal. Think Noises Off, Six Characters in Search of an Author. Shows about shows on the musical stage have indelible charm. Think Chorus Line, Kiss Me Kate. Metatheatricality can even inspire great moviemaking. Remember how Birdman reinvented cinematic narrative?

    Dawn Ursula (She) and Todd Scofield (The Husband/Harrison). Photo courtesy of Round House Theatre. Photo by Cheyenne Michaels.
    Dawn Ursula (She) and Todd Scofield (The Husband/Harrison). Photo by Cheyenne Michaels.

    This sort of stuff is Sarah Ruhl’s forte. Her script for Passion Play—directed by Michael Dove last season at Forum Theatre—looked at actors’ retelling of a crucifixion story from inside and out, on stage and off, in three different eras, in language worldly and otherworldly, and became a masterpiece of theater’s capacity to engage us in meaning as multiplicity.

    This sort of stuff is also Aaron Posner’s métier. His Life Sucks (Or the Present Ridiculous)—the reworking of Chekhov he  wrote and directed last season for Theater J—looked at actors in and out of character, in and out of funks, and as they wrestled with the elusive meaning of life on a stage set that was sometimes a placeholder and sometimes meant to be a real place, the play became a masterly metaphor for human existence itself.

    Individually Ruhl and Posner do metatheatricality like nobody’s business. Round House Theater Producing Artistic Director Ryan Rilette has brilliantly teamed them on Ruhl’s comedy Stage Kiss. The script is super clever; Posner’s direction is peerless. And the exuberant upshot is not only a gut-busting laugh a minute but also a mind-blowing insight into love and sex.

    Stage Kiss as its title suggests turns on theatrical depiction of kissing. The fact it focuses on kissing as a public act, as something actors do in full view of an audience, becomes a prompt for us to wonder, along with the characters, about kissing in private as an interpersonal act when no one is watching:

    Is it live or is it Memorex? Is it real or is it mimesis?

    There’s an ongoing play-within-the-play in Stage Kiss, and the characters are mostly actors. The main two are credited in the program as She (Dawn Ursula) and He (Gregory Wooddell). Years ago She and He had a passionate affair; they have since gone their separate ways. She married and has a teenage daughter; He has a fiancé. They haven’t seen each other for more than a decade. Now, awkwardly, they are cast by a stage director (Craig Wallace) in the same 1930s-era play as two characters who have a red-hot adulterous affair. Abruptly their real-life romance resumes, torridly, with comic complications aplenty: She has a real-life husband (Todd Scofield) and daughter (Tyasia Velines); He has a real-life girlfriend (Rachel Zampelli). In their onstage roles She and He are called upon to kiss, a lot, and their lusty lip-locking carries over offstage into their ostensibly authentic lives.

    At one point She asks He, apropos a particularly ostentatious osculation: “Did it make you feel like an actor kissing an actor or did it make you feel like a person kissing a person?” That is the play’s big connundrum, one that doesn’t go away afterward, and one that to my knowledge is wholly original to this work.

    The cast of 'Stage Kiss.' Photo courtesy of Round House Theatre. Photo by Cheyenne Michaels.
    The cast of ‘Stage Kiss.’ Photo by Cheyenne Michaels.

    Granted, Stage Kiss is a knockout comedy. Some of the punch lines and sight gags had me doubling over. There were times I could not keep from chuckling even as the show played on. Ruhl plus Posner equals hilarity squared. The fantastic cast also includes Michael Glenn, Rachel Zampelli, Tom Truss, and David Mavricos. Kelsey Hunt perfectly conveys the split between street wear and costume.

    Sound Designer/Composer James Bigbee Garver’s interscene music tracks instantly shift the show between the 1930s and now. Set Designer Tony Cisek and Lighting Designer Andrew R. Cissna have created scenic effects that serve the metatheatrical storytelling with jaw-dropping aptness. The production is spectacular in every respect.

    But though Stage Kiss is nonstop hilarious, it’s no fluffy souffle that leaves you hungry for substance later. It didn’t hit me till after, but this sensational show is concocted around a surprisingly serious thought provocation:

    Stage Kiss questions kissing the way Waiting for Godot interrogates god.

    Running Time: Two hours and 25 minutes, including one intermission.

    Stage Kiss plays through December 27, 2015 at Round House Theatre – 4545 East-West Highway, in Bethesda, MD. For tickets, call the box office at (240) 644-1100, or purchase them online.

    LINK:
    Gina Jun reviews ‘Stage Kiss’ on DCMetroTheaterArts.

    RATING: FIVE-STARS-82x1555.gif

  • ‘NSFW’ at Round House Theatre Company

    ‘NSFW’ at Round House Theatre Company

    Round House Theatre just opened a stunningly good production of NSFW directed by Meredith McDonough. The script by British playwright Lucy Kirkwood is a marvel in itself, because it is a scathingly hilarious comedy and much more.

    Sam (Brandon McCoy), Aidan (James Whalen), Charlotte (Laura C. Harris), and Rupert (Danny Gavigan). Photo by Danisha Crosby .
    Sam (Brandon McCoy), Aidan (James Whalen), Charlotte (Laura C. Harris), and Rupert (Danny Gavigan). Photo by Danisha Crosby .

    The jokes, which erupt nonstop—like popcorn on a hot skillet, and just as scrumptious—have been spiked with something serious. They’re like barbed darts laced with truth serum. For in NSFW Kirkwood skewers the way men’s and women’s consumer lifestyle magazines aggravate and ameliorate their target audiences’ insecurities. And in so doing NSFW pokes a spot-on critique at the entire culture’s commodification of gender anxiety.

    Myriad magazines pander to consumers’ self-doubt with goading promises:

    Buy this product and you’ll be more of a man. Buy this product and you’ll be a more alluring woman. We can help you have more power, be more in control, get more girls. We can help you be sexier, please your man, find a man.

    Kirkwood’s got those publications’ number. She reads the media’s message loud and clear.

    The first part of NSFW is set in the office of a British lads magazine named Doghouse,and the colorfully graphic set design by Tony Cisek leaves little doubt as to the fixations of its demographic of gawkers: the walls, emblazoned with the Union Jack, are hung with blowups of magazine covers prominently featuring  breasts.

    Aiden, fortyish, is the canny, conniving editor, and James Whalen brings a dandy drive to the dude. He’s boss over three staffers whose quirks and qualms are a kick to watch: Rupert, a lanky trust-fund heir, is played with randy abandon by Danny Gavigan. Sam, a brain but a bit of a nebbish, is played with touching timidity by Brandon McCoy. Charlotte, the odd woman out, is played by Laura C. Harris with an agreeable affect of composure layered over a simmering inner anger that bubbles up but briefly. Charlotte belongs to a feminist group of women to whom she lies about what she does for a living. In the harsh economic climate that the script makes frequent reference to, both Charlotte and Sam desperately need their jobs and will do whatever it takes to keep them.

    Except Sam does not want to accept an assignment from Aiden to go to the Arctic on a “man challenge” and write up the experience for Doghouse. Aiden pressures Sam but he resists, pleading that he has made elaborate plans to celebrate his girlfriend Rona’s birthday and surprise her with a marriage proposal. Though we don’t know it yet, Kirkwood has just slipped Rona into the play as a pivotal character.

    The breast-obsessed plot combusts when Doghouse staffers learn that a cover model chosen by Sam is not 18 as he supposed but actually 14. This incriminating news comes from the girl’s father, Mr. Bradshaw, who shows up in a rage. He seems a bumbling country bumpkin but he’s no dummy. As he vents his indignation at the editor who pornographized his daughter, Todd Scofield brings to the role the emotional range of an impressive tragicomedian.

    In a long scene between Aiden and Mr. Bradshaw, they face off to thrash out a payoff that could make the father’s lawsuit go away. Throughout it Charlotte remains standing, silent save for one word she speaks in answer to a question. Kirkwood’s choice to keep Charlotte on stage as an inscrutable witnessing presence (she could easily and plausibly be offstage) has a profound effect on how that scene plays. It is not just two adult men contesting the worth of a wronged girl’s life as measured by her looks. It is their dickheaded dispute seen through Charlotte’s eyes. And in Harris’s subtle performance, Charlotte’s unspoken reproach becomes eloquent.

    Kirkwood knows exactly what she’s up to, which becomes breathtakingly apparent in the second part of the play. The scene has switched to the office of an upscale women’s magazine called Electra. Tony Cisek’s set is all sleek blacks, grays, and whites, and the magazine covers on the walls are high-fashion supermodel shots. Miranda, the beguiling, fiftyish top editor (emphasis on the guile), is played by Deborah Hazlett with fascinating flair.

    As the scene begins, Miranda is interviewing Sam, who was fired from Doghouse after the underage-model debacle and is desperately seeking employment. The interplay between the two is extraordinary both as scripted and as played. It is as though theraison d’être for NSFW is to focus critically on two symbiotic cultural components—the men’s and then women’s—but only when we get deep into the women’s do the two parts cohere.

    In a long passage Miranda, as an exercise, pressures Sam to identify the imperfections in photographs of models—and he can’t. But he must, she tells him. No woman is perfect; every woman is anxious about her imperfections; Electra exists to candidly expose those imperfections, help women not feel alone in them, and promise better beauty and a better body through products, treatments, regimens, diets.

    This is the flip side of the puerile voyeurism celebrated at Doghouse: women of a certain age consumed with dread and self-loathing because they are losing their looks.

    Sam (Brandon McCoy) and Miranda (Deborah Hazlett). Photo by Danisha Crosby.
    Sam (Brandon McCoy) and Miranda (Deborah Hazlett). Photo by Danisha Crosby.

    It turns out Rupert now works for Miranda. Aiden canned him then his father withdrew his trust fund and he needs the work. He enters with his face expressionless, having been Botoxed for a magazine feature in which a man experiences something a woman goes through. He cannot move his lips to speak because his face is numb so he simpers, and Gavigan’s comic turn is a gem.

    Near the end Sam has a beautiful monolog in which he becomes in effect the conscience of the play. He tells a story about Rona, the woman he loved. They’ve broken up but he misses her terribly. And the way he describes their relationship could not be more opposite to the values espoused at either Doghouse or Electra. Rona was his soulmate, Sam says, and she became his hero. She was beautiful and she was brave. Once he and Rona were riding the Tube when a man exposed himself and tried to rub his genitals against her. Rona got all the other passengers shouting a shaming chant at the wanker and stopped him cold. The incident affected Sam deeply:

    I just loved that, she’s just fearless…and I thought: I actually feel like part of something, you know? For the first time in my life I feel like I’m part of something, like we, people, together, can change things. People can stand up and stop shit things happening. Because that’s what it was like when I was with her, I felt…connected to the world, and all the things the world could be if we were just, better versions of ourselves, so it’s like that better world was sort of a shared space that existed in both our heads, so there was like a world, that we lived in together, that we’d helped to make and it was just for us, it was our secret…. I just really—love her.

    Comedy often comes of anxiety. Many a guffaw masks nervous laughter. What is so wonderful about the Round House Theatre production of NSFW is that the heart of its humor comes of honesty. It lets us laugh even as we are looking at that which may not be a laughing matter—which makes for a powerfully on-point play.

    Running Time: 95 minutes, with no intermission.

    NSFW plays through June 21, 2015 at Round House Theatre – 4545 East-West Highway, in Bethesda, MD. For tickets, call the box office at (240) 644-1100, or purchase them online.