Reviews
FLY HIGH THE FLAG OF
FABULOUS:
New, Original, Provocative, Brilliant Plays are HERE.
CONTEMPORARY AMERICAN THEATER FESTIVAL in Shepherdstown,
West Virginia
July 8-31
CATF.ORG
304-876-3473/ 800.999.CATF.
(World
Theatre Day 2016 announced the ten top theater festivals in the
world in : Ireland, Germany, France, Austria, Switzerland
Serbia, Canada, NYC, Massachusetts, and SHEPHERDSTOWN, WEST
VIRGINIA, on the campus of Shepherd University.)
Five New American Plays
include three World Premieres*:
Not Medea* by
Allison Gregory; The
Wedding Gift* by Chisa Hutchinson;
20th Century Blues* by Susan Miller;
The Second Girl by
Ronan Noone, pen/man/ship by Christina Anderson.
Presented by
Ed Herendeen, Producing Director and Director
+++++++++++++++
Reviewed
by Grace Cavalieri
+++++++++++++++++++
Not Medea,
by Allison Gregory, directed by Courtney Sale.
(Place
CATF. Time ,Now)
Cast:
Woman, Joey Parsons; Jason, Ben Chase; Chorus, Rachael Balcanoff
As the lights lower on a stylish/classical/modern set, a
latecomer barges in, stumbling over seats, dropping bundles and
umbrella, talking to the audience, apologizing for her
intrusion. She’s interrupted by cell phone calls come from her
daughter, a child left alone, by the way. (…she just had to get
out of the house you know how it is with kids always pestering
…) Her story becomes the overarching scaffolding for the play:
the present-day situation is one where the husband’s left her
for another woman and our theater-goer (combination of Carol
Burnett and Roseanne Barr), in telling her story, gradually
becomes the outraged Medea. Her transformation is a tour de
force by actor Joey Parsons, dressing in classical costume –
ridiculing Medea, while
replicating
her. The monologue is a mix of street talk and lyrical language,
combining a tired single mom and the greatest murderess of all
time. The under current is the real-life tragedy suffered by
this woman who’s lost a child
accidentally
, not her fault, but
blamed for her death. The chorus-of-one (the
crystalline Rachael Balcanoff) serves as connective tissue
between time and action.
On comes Jason, big, sexy, tattooed, black leathered. He’s a
dude, and a hunk.
Medea
says “I wasn’t a goddess. He made me one.” There’s a nice moment
enacting the first rush of love; Medea and Jason each hold a
tiny bird—she marvels at its fragility. He crushes it
thoughtlessly.
Jason’s ambitious, and Medea makes him invincible,
with the Golden Fleece, allowing him to supersede her father’s
demands; now they can marry and be happy. He thinks she’s more
“amazing” each time she flatters him. Medea says “Nothing but
death will ever come between us.”
They move to Corinth but she’s miserable. Jason says
,”You’ll get used to it. Buck up.”
But he’s already bucked up, He’s sleeping with
another, the Princess of Corinth.
Jason doesn’t know why women get all bent out of shape when
husbands sleep with other women and then marry them; but Medea
is serious now, as she prepares a poisoned shawl for Jason’s new
bride.
Jason
says of Medea, “You come on too strong. You’re too willful. “
“How better to wound my husband then to take his children.”
Although playwright Gregory masterfully manages the Medea
character without schizophrenia, and brilliantly combines humor
and tragedy, she also throws a shade. Why did the woman leave
her child unattended to come to the theater?
Is
the present day Medea without blame?
Are
all Mothers carrying Medea’s original sin?
This
same Mother, in the final scene, ascends as a goddess of
vengeance in full funeral regalia with bloodied hands,
vindicated, and alone.
The actors work with rhythm, exuberance, and accuracy for an
electrifying experience.
+++++++++++++
The
Wedding Gift
by Chisa Hutchison
directed by May Adrales.
(Setting
& Time: “A far off place, so far in the future, it’s stupid”)
Chisa
Hutchison must be from a star planet, because she brought that
planet on-stage. This is the most singly original work I’ve seen
in a long time. It bubbles. It bursts. It’s the imagination
unleashed, and I marvel with gratitude that CATF had the ability
to see how to produce this.
Doug,(Jason Babinsky,) a white guy is brought into a culture
of glamorous people-of-color, who live in a fantastic
world of
grandeur. He’s brought, by the way, in a golden cage,
and also by the way, he’s quite naked except for an elegant
loincloth. Where is he? Who are these people in their science
fiction Versace’s; and what do they want with him? It turns out
he’s been “found” and is now to be the family pet –this
shackled divorced guy from the USA with a six-year-old
kid back home somewhere— is to be a fuck-toy. Did I say that all
the characters but Doug speak a made-up language? A stylish
combination of French, Splanish and God knows what –and only
through gesture can communication occur. The Princess of this
epitomized society is marrying Prince Beshrum (Powerful Damian
Thompson,) in the highest of all styles— but in bed he doesn’t
get it, and so she wants to resort to her boy toy. All this time
Doug (Babinsky) is hilariously trying to break the golden chain
that binds.
Of course, it’s about serious questions of domination and
submission, the master and the slave; but in another time and
sphere and another hemisphere, playwright animates the problem.
Our tethered victim is befriended by a “citizen” who’s a
daughter of another
”found pet “and she speaks Doug’s language. Sadly she
loses her life in trying to help him. My favorite scene is when
the “doctor of pets” (played to the top, by Edward O’Blenis)
interprets for Princess Nahlis (the adorable Margaret
Ivey.)
Doug finally understands, “You consider me an animal,
less than human,” but the Princess has taken a liking to him. He
bargains with her (via the Vet) to stay 10 days, and even
without common verbiage we see a bond beginning to form, through
tenderness and playfulness—the common language of love.
A wonderful scene is GUESS WHO’S COMING TO DINNER when
Princess Nahlis brings Doug to meet Mom and Dad. It does not go
well, but our Romeo and Juliet
of
gibberish land vow to escape! And they do! Through a magic
toilet!
(I
told you this play was terrific.) They find themselves in a
paradisiacal forest. There’s a flower Doug recognizes from earth
and Nahlis gestures that this is where Doug was found. He’d been
frozen in the ground when apparently the sun had gone out, and
the earth was covered with ice.
“So I’m a human fossil,” he realizes.
We
can only say that sometimes it takes centuries for cultures to
blend; and this apparently wasn’t one of them—However, this is a
sweet fantasy (with a serious premise) beautifully orchestrated
and paced.
A spectacle on a magnificent scale.
+++++++++++++++++
pen/man/ship by Christina Anderson, directed by Lucie Tiberghien.
(Setting
& Time: “A worn whaling shop on the Atlantic Ocean, September
through November, 1896, after the Jim Crow Laws were upheld as
constitutional”)
This is a perfectly built play. This play honors language;
and presents us with impeccably drawn characters. The ship’s log
begins in 1896 when a religious man, Charles (passionately
played by Brian D. Coats) leads an expedition to Liberia with a
full crew aboard. Also on board are his son, Jacob, and the
woman he brought with him,
Ruby
(Margaret Ivey) who seeks escape from an America
whose
cruelty she’s experienced. The play is poetic with movement and
meaning. We begin the journey with a single sail overhead, and a
stage that's ankle-deep with water.
Charles
is a surveyor traveling to Africa to plan a building. This
pious, unctuous father is having a Bible discussion with a
dutiful son Jacob, (played beautifully by Damien Thompson.)
Jacob
introduces Ruby to his father who’s not all that happy to find
that Ruby hasn’t brought a Bible with her. He immediately sees
her as a renegade. Although she’s invited to join the
discussion, the way Ruby quotes the Bible angers Charles, and
although confronted, she holds her power, interpreting verse in
an enlightened fashion. It’ clear she’s an enemy to “The Word”
and thus to his son.
Charles, in his supercilious religiosity, is not liked by the
crew. He remains alone, contemptuous of men whom he feels are
“heathens and savages.”
There’s
one exception and that’s crew member Cecil (beguiling Edward
O’Blenis) who is allowed to play his accordion, and so is loyal
to Charles.
Jacob’s
torn in half, wanting to prove Ruby’s independence and
intelligence, while trying to restrain her boldness.
As October comes, relationships worsen: Jacob, Charles, and Ruby
become a triangle, always an odd one out. Ruby has leadership
skills and becomes the spokesperson for the crew— she eats with
them and she listens to them, respects their humanity. Rumor is
that the journey has been funded by whites and that Charles is
preparing to build a penal colony for blacks from America:
“colored thugs,” he calls them. The prison will be “for those
Negroes who do not deserve what respectable ones do.”
Charles’ reliance on gin fuels his paranoia; and when he
thinks a young man is threatening him, Charles pushes him
overboard; then cuts his own chest to fake a struggle.
Charles
is going mad with hatred; the crew insists on a tribunal; so he
sequesters himself with Cecil, barricaded from the others.
Ruby
maintains that she’ll have “her crew” drop sail unless Charles
opens the door, and submit to an inquiry. For 10 days, without
sail, they are adrift – running out of rations. Charles is
insane but resolute; and Ruby is equally stubborn. We should
note, at any time Ruby could have the crew members lift the
sails and prevent impending tragedy. The playwright creates an
equal conflict creating a perfect tension. The alcoholic Charles
is finally conquered by his need for gin. He ends in chains,
righteous, broken, and deluded.
Elegantly written, and breathtakingly directed and acted, this
one’s got it all.
+++++++++++++++++++++++
20th
Century Blues, by Susan Miller, directed by Ed Herendeen.
“Setting&Time:
The present, during a Ted talk. Then four months earlier in the
course of a day in NYC.”
We
can always expect a great opening under Herendeen’s direction.
Photographer Danny, stands before a gigantic word “TED”
about to give her talk on photography, and delivers an opening
monologue about "what we are remembered for." The scene that
follows is a technically stunning use of projection to create
space and place.
Then the play opens to four women in reunion, all middle-age,
about to be photographed by Danny in a final series on aging—a
series from the 1970’s to present day.
Mac
(Franchelle Stewart Dorn) is a reporter about to retire from a
job that defines her life. Gabby (Kathryn Grody) is a
veterinarian, practicing to be a widow, because one can’t start
too early; Sil (Alexandra Neil) is a realtor who’s about to have
plastic surgery so she can face the business world, refreshed.
These friends of 40 years gathered for a new photo shoot to see
how they’ve weather time— but instead— they’re suddenly not
willing to subject their faces to public scrutiny. Who knew this
was to be on video circulated worldwide via a TED TALK? No, they
do not want to sign the releases. The play is witty and stylish,
and manages to raise some interesting questions about time. One
of the more subtle idea s is whether
the image of the thing is
the thing itself. More practical is a question raised about
the value of marking "Time’s passage."
The
photographer, Danny, sees her three friends as a timetable to be
studied and documented.
There’s a pervasive fear of age shared by all. The
women are not willing to sign releases, and doubt the integrity
of the project.
Old times crop up— old hurts –old loves. No one can feel
fully comfortable in life not knowing “what comes next,”
especially in photos to be shared with the world. To stem the
discord, Danny brings in past photos never seen by the women,
and they fall in love with their past camaraderie. Many topical
issues transvers the day – a transgender granddaughter, a
demented mother (wonderfully played by Mary Suib,) an adopted
son, a gay marriage.
Most
importantly, though, is the idea of memory and what versions of
ourselves are the real versions, as
we
are all moving toward technology,
not
knowing what can possibly come next.
These women actors are consistently excellent in elevating the
play’s themes, and letting us pretend the clock doesn’t matter,
at least during this performance.
__________________
Grace Cavalieri founded,
and still produces, “The Poet and the Poem“ for public radio,
now from the Library of Congress, celebrating 39 years on-air.
Her new book of poems is WITH (Somondoco Press, 2016.)
Regrettably,
a family emergency prohibited seeing and reviewing “The Second
Girl “by Ronan Noone.
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