Coming up next weekend -- May 14-16, 2010 -- an opportunity of being among the first to hear four new plays and participate in post-reading discussions at the Alabama Shakespeare Festival's Southern Writers' Project:
"Look Away" by Robert Ford
"The Flagmaker of Market Street" by Elyzabeth Gregory Wilder
"Blood Divided" by Jeffry L. Chastang
"In the Book Of" by John Walch
Other events are available:
--Backstage Tour of ASF
--Civil War Tour of Downtown Montgomery
--Music Jam
--Breakfast with the Playwrights
--Reception & Meals
Tickets are available -- call (334) 271-5334 or visit www.southernwritersproject.net:
weekend package, extreme weekend package [includes tickets to "All's Well That Ends Well", "Hamlet", and "Lettice & Lovage"], day packages, and single tickets to readings are available.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Sunday, May 2, 2010
ASF: "Lettice and Lovage"
When in 1984 Prince Charles referred to the plans for a new wing of the National Gallery in London as "a monstrous carbuncle on the face of a much-loved and elegant friend", those blueprints were scrapped and a controversy arose about whether modern architecture's rectangular, sharp-edged, and utilitarian forms had a place amidst the elegant spires that had dominated the cityscape for so long.
A few years later, but with Prince Charles's words still ringing, Peter Shaffer penned "Lettice and Lovage" (1987), wherein two very stubborn "ladies of a certain age" and from separate social and political camps join forces against the concrete, steel, and glass monstrosities that litter the landscape. Even the three act structure of his play suggests an admiration for old-fashioned storytelling that is deftly directed by John Going.
Currently in the Alabama Shakespeare Festival's repertory, Act I begins with a rather tedious and formulaic monologue by a tour guide at "the dullest house in England", a Tudor edifice aptly called Fustian House. Lettice Douffet [Diana VanFossen], a free-spirited Bohemian, embellishes the "official script" so well in successive renditions that the tourists are enthralled and the bowl containing their "tokens of admiration" overflows. Her mantra -- "enlarge, enlighten, enliven" -- makes her descriptions exciting and entertaining, though the veracity of her "details" ( or "gross departures from the truth") is challenged by one visitor and then by Lotte Schoen [Carole Monferdini], a stiffly officious representative of the "Preservation Trust" that manages historic properties.
Lettice has an encyclopedic knowledge of history and an understanding that "language frees one" from the ordinary -- what she calls the "mere". She bemoans what the country has come to -- that people have no spunk and settle for the "mere" in every aspect of their lives -- and her compulsion for storytelling, influenced by her mother's theatrical tutelage, "turns history into legend", captivates any listening audience, and is the key to her characterization. -- The actress playing the role must be an exceptional storyteller, and Ms. VanFossen, blessed with Shaffer's brilliant script, not only presents a larger-than-life portrait of Lettice with all the melodramatic justifications of her behavior, but rises to an inspired portrayal.
ASF intern Melanie Wilson plays Miss Schoen's secretary, Miss Farmer, as a bubbly yet somewhat dim-witted young woman totally out of place in her job, but eager to please. Her vivacious presence serves well to counterbalance Miss Schoen's propriety.
And, Lettice's on-stage audience is primarily Miss Schoen. In this role, Ms. Monferdini's severely cropped hair, plain grey suit, and sensible shoes are matched by a rigid insistence on following protocol; to watch her gradually falling under Lettice's irresistable spell is a delight. Her facial and posture changes in Act II are so subtle -- outrage changes to indignance and then to frustration and compassion to capitulation -- until, prompted by over-imbibing Lettice's "quaff" (an "adapted" ancient recipe of mead, vodka, sugar, and lovage [parsley]), she divulges a secret explosive past life with a revolutionary group called "E.N.D." (the "Eyesore Negation Detatchment"), and becomes an ally. The transformation is complete.
There is more to come, however, in Act III. The women have been re-enacting some major violent historical events in Lettice's flat, the deaths of Mary Queen of Scots and Charles I among them, with theatrical costumes and props and Lettice's enlarged vocabulary and passionate performances. An accident threatens a lawsuit for attempted murder. As Lettice's defense lawyer, Mr. Bardolph, Anthony Cochrane is also caught in her spell, and his transformation replicates Miss Schoen's in a wonderfully comic turn that is infectious.
Shaffer re-wrote the ending to his play that had the central characters embarking on a plot to blow up the offending buildings to a less incendiary though still malicious plan -- a prudent choice in light of world terrorism, and perhaps a wise choice in that the issue of modern architecture's intrusion against the grand designs of the past has little relevance here today.
But a happy ending is de rigueur: the lawsuit is dropped and as we have been transported by their performances, we join these two exceptional women in their triumph.
A few years later, but with Prince Charles's words still ringing, Peter Shaffer penned "Lettice and Lovage" (1987), wherein two very stubborn "ladies of a certain age" and from separate social and political camps join forces against the concrete, steel, and glass monstrosities that litter the landscape. Even the three act structure of his play suggests an admiration for old-fashioned storytelling that is deftly directed by John Going.
Currently in the Alabama Shakespeare Festival's repertory, Act I begins with a rather tedious and formulaic monologue by a tour guide at "the dullest house in England", a Tudor edifice aptly called Fustian House. Lettice Douffet [Diana VanFossen], a free-spirited Bohemian, embellishes the "official script" so well in successive renditions that the tourists are enthralled and the bowl containing their "tokens of admiration" overflows. Her mantra -- "enlarge, enlighten, enliven" -- makes her descriptions exciting and entertaining, though the veracity of her "details" ( or "gross departures from the truth") is challenged by one visitor and then by Lotte Schoen [Carole Monferdini], a stiffly officious representative of the "Preservation Trust" that manages historic properties.
Lettice has an encyclopedic knowledge of history and an understanding that "language frees one" from the ordinary -- what she calls the "mere". She bemoans what the country has come to -- that people have no spunk and settle for the "mere" in every aspect of their lives -- and her compulsion for storytelling, influenced by her mother's theatrical tutelage, "turns history into legend", captivates any listening audience, and is the key to her characterization. -- The actress playing the role must be an exceptional storyteller, and Ms. VanFossen, blessed with Shaffer's brilliant script, not only presents a larger-than-life portrait of Lettice with all the melodramatic justifications of her behavior, but rises to an inspired portrayal.
ASF intern Melanie Wilson plays Miss Schoen's secretary, Miss Farmer, as a bubbly yet somewhat dim-witted young woman totally out of place in her job, but eager to please. Her vivacious presence serves well to counterbalance Miss Schoen's propriety.
And, Lettice's on-stage audience is primarily Miss Schoen. In this role, Ms. Monferdini's severely cropped hair, plain grey suit, and sensible shoes are matched by a rigid insistence on following protocol; to watch her gradually falling under Lettice's irresistable spell is a delight. Her facial and posture changes in Act II are so subtle -- outrage changes to indignance and then to frustration and compassion to capitulation -- until, prompted by over-imbibing Lettice's "quaff" (an "adapted" ancient recipe of mead, vodka, sugar, and lovage [parsley]), she divulges a secret explosive past life with a revolutionary group called "E.N.D." (the "Eyesore Negation Detatchment"), and becomes an ally. The transformation is complete.
There is more to come, however, in Act III. The women have been re-enacting some major violent historical events in Lettice's flat, the deaths of Mary Queen of Scots and Charles I among them, with theatrical costumes and props and Lettice's enlarged vocabulary and passionate performances. An accident threatens a lawsuit for attempted murder. As Lettice's defense lawyer, Mr. Bardolph, Anthony Cochrane is also caught in her spell, and his transformation replicates Miss Schoen's in a wonderfully comic turn that is infectious.
Shaffer re-wrote the ending to his play that had the central characters embarking on a plot to blow up the offending buildings to a less incendiary though still malicious plan -- a prudent choice in light of world terrorism, and perhaps a wise choice in that the issue of modern architecture's intrusion against the grand designs of the past has little relevance here today.
But a happy ending is de rigueur: the lawsuit is dropped and as we have been transported by their performances, we join these two exceptional women in their triumph.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Millbrook: "Saving Grace"
With a new sound system in place, the Millbrook Community Players are presenting Jack Sharkey's comedy, "Saving Grace", directed by Fred Neighbors, and with a small ensemble cast of veteran actors and a newcomer to the local theatre scene. The small, but appreciative, audience often punctuated the performance with loud laughs stemming from the clever script and the timing of the actors.
The comedy of this script stems from its witty dialogue and characterizations, as well as from conventional mistaken identities brought about by virtually everyone pretending to be what they are not.
Grace Larkin [Ashley Allman] invites her boss Walter Chepple [John Collier] back to her apartment for a late night drink...and she is a nervous wreck; it is her first attempt at romance, and she spouts many cliche-ridden quotations from B-films to which she is addicted. -- He, on the other hand, appears to be an experienced Lothario and invites her to accompany him to a business convention in Hawaii, complete with a special sexy outfit he bought her and which she models for him as a birthday present.
Awkward moments for each of them are interrupted by the arrival of a telephone repairman named Alex [Paul Travitsky] and Grace's sister Harriet [Rae Ann Collier] who is being pursued by her suitor Gregor [Dave Kelsen] a Russian evangelical preacher.
The script contrives to have characters leave the stage at critical moments, only to return to overhear partial conversations that cause them to draw the wrong conclusions, or to find other characters in an assortment of compromising positions...all standard conventions of farcical comedies.
There is a good deal of success in the performances. Most of the clever dialogue is presented by this ensemble with a naturalistic understanding -- a lot of double-entendre -- and spot-on timing, and in Ms. Allman's case, some wonderful facial mugging that clearly indicate her predicaments.
But, plays of this type also require a variety of pace -- some fast and furious, some slowed down in exhaustion -- to highlight the emotional and physical intensity of the script. Some attention to this would benefit the two-hour production.
And there appears to have been some reticence in both physical intimacy and in costuming. Every kiss is either a perfunctory peck or a chaste one when it should be smouldering and lingering, and everyone remains dressed in very demure clothing, especially when wearing underwear and caught in the aforesaid compromising positions. Though a red Union suit may draw a laugh in and of itself, it hardly compromises the characters in question of the assumed dalliance or being caught in the act.
Nonetheless, this production of Saving Grace is a funny entertainment that provides audiences with an old-fashioned laugh-out-loud night at the theatre.
The comedy of this script stems from its witty dialogue and characterizations, as well as from conventional mistaken identities brought about by virtually everyone pretending to be what they are not.
Grace Larkin [Ashley Allman] invites her boss Walter Chepple [John Collier] back to her apartment for a late night drink...and she is a nervous wreck; it is her first attempt at romance, and she spouts many cliche-ridden quotations from B-films to which she is addicted. -- He, on the other hand, appears to be an experienced Lothario and invites her to accompany him to a business convention in Hawaii, complete with a special sexy outfit he bought her and which she models for him as a birthday present.
Awkward moments for each of them are interrupted by the arrival of a telephone repairman named Alex [Paul Travitsky] and Grace's sister Harriet [Rae Ann Collier] who is being pursued by her suitor Gregor [Dave Kelsen] a Russian evangelical preacher.
The script contrives to have characters leave the stage at critical moments, only to return to overhear partial conversations that cause them to draw the wrong conclusions, or to find other characters in an assortment of compromising positions...all standard conventions of farcical comedies.
There is a good deal of success in the performances. Most of the clever dialogue is presented by this ensemble with a naturalistic understanding -- a lot of double-entendre -- and spot-on timing, and in Ms. Allman's case, some wonderful facial mugging that clearly indicate her predicaments.
But, plays of this type also require a variety of pace -- some fast and furious, some slowed down in exhaustion -- to highlight the emotional and physical intensity of the script. Some attention to this would benefit the two-hour production.
And there appears to have been some reticence in both physical intimacy and in costuming. Every kiss is either a perfunctory peck or a chaste one when it should be smouldering and lingering, and everyone remains dressed in very demure clothing, especially when wearing underwear and caught in the aforesaid compromising positions. Though a red Union suit may draw a laugh in and of itself, it hardly compromises the characters in question of the assumed dalliance or being caught in the act.
Nonetheless, this production of Saving Grace is a funny entertainment that provides audiences with an old-fashioned laugh-out-loud night at the theatre.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
ASF: "All's Well That Ends Well"
Why aren't there more high caliber productions of one of Shakespeare's most modern-feeling "problem plays" like the one now playing at the Alabama Shakespeare Festival? The all-too-small audience at Sunday's opening performance of "All's Well That Ends Well" was treated to a funny and thoughtful examination of love, sex, and marriage set amidst the class consciousness and intrigues of Renaissance England that, after 400+ years, reflect many of today's social concerns.
Much of the "problem" [some might say a "strength" that makes it modern and intriguing] is that it is hard to pin it down. Is the play a comedy, a romance, a fantasy, a serious drama...?...Well, yes...and no. There are clowns and young lovers, a bit of mystery and seeming magic, generation gaps, a war, sexual frankness, some reprehensible behavior that beggars forgiveness, trickery, class & cultural snobbery, and an "end justifies the means" philosophy by both old and young that can be found on many prime-time & reality television shows, and which is reported on the daily news. In short, the play mirors life's contradictions.
Geoffrey Sherman's able ensemble deftly manipulates the audience's shifting allegiances because we understand and identify with their contradictory natures, their familiar behavior, and the intrigues that follow. The duplicity found in many characters, the notion that privilege makes for different rules, and a suggestion that youth should be readily forgiven for acting rashly are played out for us in the two and a half hour performance...and we take sides -- and change sides -- frequently.
Act I serves as an elaborate exposition, delineating plots and subplots to unravel later on. The Countess of Roussillion [Carole Monferdini] has taken the orphaned Helena [Kelley Curran] under her protection, and treats her with motherly affection. Helena secretly loves the Countess's son Bertram [Jordan Coughtry], though he is of superior rank and class. When Helena cures the King of France [Rodney Clark] from a life-threatening malady, he grants her the pick of the French lords as a husband. When she chooses Bertram and he vehemently and contemptuously objects to her social rank, the King demands an immediate wedding ceremony, after which Bertram sneaks away to the war with his cowardly and two-faced friend Parolles [Matt D'Amico] before consummating the marriage, and sets down impossible terms that must be met before he will accept Helena as his true wife: she must get him to willingly give up a precious family ring to her, and she must be pregnant by him -- two things he swears he will never do.
Into this mix come three characters familiar to generations of theatregoers. Lavatch [Anthony Cochrane] is the court fool in the retinue of the Countess. Complete with fools-cap and patchwork costume, he has the license to speak freely, even to his betters -- and his commentaries on other characters' behavior demonstrates his penetrating wit. Mr. Cochrane plays him with Scottish gusto -- sometimes impish, and always insightful. Through him, we learn a lot. -- A counterpart is Lafew [Paul Hopper], who is played as a more genteel and graceful version of the fool who delights in aggravating others to distraction.
And then there's Parolles. Mr. D'Amico's pretentious windbag miles gloriosus, a liar and a coward, is instantly someone we love to hate, and whose unmasking is gleefully anticipated both by other characters and the audience.
But these characters are no mere distraction; they are integral to the plot and to understanding the play's themes. Mr. D'Amico's debate with Ms. Curran's Helena on the subject of virginity & marriage helps to paint her as an intelligent and independent woman, and an equal match for any man regardless of social rank. The fact that Parolles and Bertram have been friends and companions for some time suggests that their parallel behavior -- especially when attempting to save face by inventing elaborate lies to avoid responsibility and explain away their bad behavior -- might be something each learned from the other.
Yet, we are made to puzzle out the implication that punishment is right for some but not for others, that rank and privilege allows the upper class to get away with most anything, while their social inferiors are abused for the same offenses...just like today.
What follows in Act II somehow resolves many of the problems, but leaves some unanswered. There is a conventional "happy ending with a marriage", but this is managed by a number of tricks, traps, and deceptions. Having spread a rumor that she is dead, Helena disguises herself as a holy pilgrim and enlists the Widow Capilet [Celia Howard] and her daughter Diana [Lauren Sowa] to help her fulfill Bertram's demands -- the ring and her pregnancy -- by deliberately having Diana seduce him and then switch places with her under cover of darkness. In this regard, her duplicity is similar to the men's...in her mind, the end does justify the means.
The seduction scene is played as a clever battle of the sexes, with the woman clearly in charge. Ms. Sowa teases and Mr. Coughtry complies, looking ever so adolescently foolish in his yearnings. When his demands are proclaimed in public, there is nothing for him but to capitulate in dismay and discomfort; and though his reclamation to the proper and the good is abrupt, one can not help but believe that his protestations of loving Helena and becoming a model husband are prompted more to save his life than to declare an honest affection for her.
Each character in this production speaks Shakespeare's words clearly -- a trademark of this season, and a distinct credit to the company. The words and actions in "All's Well That Ends Well" provoke us to consider our own attitudes, our moral assertions, and our ability to laugh at the uncertainties of our lives.
Much of the "problem" [some might say a "strength" that makes it modern and intriguing] is that it is hard to pin it down. Is the play a comedy, a romance, a fantasy, a serious drama...?...Well, yes...and no. There are clowns and young lovers, a bit of mystery and seeming magic, generation gaps, a war, sexual frankness, some reprehensible behavior that beggars forgiveness, trickery, class & cultural snobbery, and an "end justifies the means" philosophy by both old and young that can be found on many prime-time & reality television shows, and which is reported on the daily news. In short, the play mirors life's contradictions.
Geoffrey Sherman's able ensemble deftly manipulates the audience's shifting allegiances because we understand and identify with their contradictory natures, their familiar behavior, and the intrigues that follow. The duplicity found in many characters, the notion that privilege makes for different rules, and a suggestion that youth should be readily forgiven for acting rashly are played out for us in the two and a half hour performance...and we take sides -- and change sides -- frequently.
Act I serves as an elaborate exposition, delineating plots and subplots to unravel later on. The Countess of Roussillion [Carole Monferdini] has taken the orphaned Helena [Kelley Curran] under her protection, and treats her with motherly affection. Helena secretly loves the Countess's son Bertram [Jordan Coughtry], though he is of superior rank and class. When Helena cures the King of France [Rodney Clark] from a life-threatening malady, he grants her the pick of the French lords as a husband. When she chooses Bertram and he vehemently and contemptuously objects to her social rank, the King demands an immediate wedding ceremony, after which Bertram sneaks away to the war with his cowardly and two-faced friend Parolles [Matt D'Amico] before consummating the marriage, and sets down impossible terms that must be met before he will accept Helena as his true wife: she must get him to willingly give up a precious family ring to her, and she must be pregnant by him -- two things he swears he will never do.
Into this mix come three characters familiar to generations of theatregoers. Lavatch [Anthony Cochrane] is the court fool in the retinue of the Countess. Complete with fools-cap and patchwork costume, he has the license to speak freely, even to his betters -- and his commentaries on other characters' behavior demonstrates his penetrating wit. Mr. Cochrane plays him with Scottish gusto -- sometimes impish, and always insightful. Through him, we learn a lot. -- A counterpart is Lafew [Paul Hopper], who is played as a more genteel and graceful version of the fool who delights in aggravating others to distraction.
And then there's Parolles. Mr. D'Amico's pretentious windbag miles gloriosus, a liar and a coward, is instantly someone we love to hate, and whose unmasking is gleefully anticipated both by other characters and the audience.
But these characters are no mere distraction; they are integral to the plot and to understanding the play's themes. Mr. D'Amico's debate with Ms. Curran's Helena on the subject of virginity & marriage helps to paint her as an intelligent and independent woman, and an equal match for any man regardless of social rank. The fact that Parolles and Bertram have been friends and companions for some time suggests that their parallel behavior -- especially when attempting to save face by inventing elaborate lies to avoid responsibility and explain away their bad behavior -- might be something each learned from the other.
Yet, we are made to puzzle out the implication that punishment is right for some but not for others, that rank and privilege allows the upper class to get away with most anything, while their social inferiors are abused for the same offenses...just like today.
What follows in Act II somehow resolves many of the problems, but leaves some unanswered. There is a conventional "happy ending with a marriage", but this is managed by a number of tricks, traps, and deceptions. Having spread a rumor that she is dead, Helena disguises herself as a holy pilgrim and enlists the Widow Capilet [Celia Howard] and her daughter Diana [Lauren Sowa] to help her fulfill Bertram's demands -- the ring and her pregnancy -- by deliberately having Diana seduce him and then switch places with her under cover of darkness. In this regard, her duplicity is similar to the men's...in her mind, the end does justify the means.
The seduction scene is played as a clever battle of the sexes, with the woman clearly in charge. Ms. Sowa teases and Mr. Coughtry complies, looking ever so adolescently foolish in his yearnings. When his demands are proclaimed in public, there is nothing for him but to capitulate in dismay and discomfort; and though his reclamation to the proper and the good is abrupt, one can not help but believe that his protestations of loving Helena and becoming a model husband are prompted more to save his life than to declare an honest affection for her.
Each character in this production speaks Shakespeare's words clearly -- a trademark of this season, and a distinct credit to the company. The words and actions in "All's Well That Ends Well" provoke us to consider our own attitudes, our moral assertions, and our ability to laugh at the uncertainties of our lives.
Red Door: "Conecuh People"
Once more, the Red Door Theatre in Union Springs is presenting "Conecuh People" by Ty Adams and directed this year by Randy Thornton. Based on Wade Hall's book, the story looks back at the Hall family of the 1940s and 1950s, and evokes a past-time with pleasant nostalgic reminiscences.
The story is narrated by Tyson Hall in the role of Wade Hall, Jr. His naturalistic mannersims, pleasant singing voice, and comfort in the role immediately get audience interest and engagement as he introduces a host of family, neighbors, teachers, and assorted Bullock County citizens whose advice and example molded him from childhood and led him ultimately to "find my place in the world."
Thereafter, the play is little more than a series of monologues and brief scenes, interspersed with folk songs and church hymns, that trace his journey of self-discovery leading him to admit that like all of us he is influenced by people who might otherwise go unnoticed by society.
At two-hours and forty-five-minutes, this gentle story takes far too long to tell, partly due to all-too-frequent "dead" moments when nothing is happening on stage, and partly due to the deliberately slow pace that gives the same weight of importance to every character, no matter how minor an influence on Wade, Jr. Even the songs are slow and ponderous.
The language is often poetic, reflecting the original book's haunting descriptions, but much of this cries out for lively delivery and energetic movement which, when it does occur in this production, is a most welcome change.
Kim Graham as Wade's math teacher Estelle Cope Campbell, and Janet Wilkerson as the snuff-dipping Elma Lee Hall, bring such energy to their roles. Though Ms. Wilkerson's indulgently long monologue is in need of judicious editing, both these women enliven the action.
Anne Brabham plays Aunt Emma's generosity in caring for Wade with appropriate gentility; Betty Hubbard's depiction of "Mama" when she is forced to leave her grandson is one of the most touching moments in the play.
Peggy Windham as Wade's mother, "Babe", is thoroughly committed in her role, but the interpretation is so much at odds with the text's description of Babe's intelligence and passion, that to see her as a dazed and bewildered simpleton is jarring.
Hats off to Aleta Davis, a gifted singer and actor, for providing the most truthful character and the most credible characterization in this version of "Conecuh People". As Verse Lee Johnson Manley, the Black woman who raised Wade, giving her every right to call him "my baby", Ms. Davis plays every moment as if it was happening for the first time. -- She trusts in her baby's ability to help her "get a birthday and an age" without the benefit of a birth certificate; when they succeed and Verse Lee "becomes a person" at last, her joy electrifies.
"Conecuh People" has had a number of incarnations for some years, each one with a distinct interpretation. As a work-in-progress, it might be a good idea to take a few years off from performing it to incubate a new version.
The story is narrated by Tyson Hall in the role of Wade Hall, Jr. His naturalistic mannersims, pleasant singing voice, and comfort in the role immediately get audience interest and engagement as he introduces a host of family, neighbors, teachers, and assorted Bullock County citizens whose advice and example molded him from childhood and led him ultimately to "find my place in the world."
Thereafter, the play is little more than a series of monologues and brief scenes, interspersed with folk songs and church hymns, that trace his journey of self-discovery leading him to admit that like all of us he is influenced by people who might otherwise go unnoticed by society.
At two-hours and forty-five-minutes, this gentle story takes far too long to tell, partly due to all-too-frequent "dead" moments when nothing is happening on stage, and partly due to the deliberately slow pace that gives the same weight of importance to every character, no matter how minor an influence on Wade, Jr. Even the songs are slow and ponderous.
The language is often poetic, reflecting the original book's haunting descriptions, but much of this cries out for lively delivery and energetic movement which, when it does occur in this production, is a most welcome change.
Kim Graham as Wade's math teacher Estelle Cope Campbell, and Janet Wilkerson as the snuff-dipping Elma Lee Hall, bring such energy to their roles. Though Ms. Wilkerson's indulgently long monologue is in need of judicious editing, both these women enliven the action.
Anne Brabham plays Aunt Emma's generosity in caring for Wade with appropriate gentility; Betty Hubbard's depiction of "Mama" when she is forced to leave her grandson is one of the most touching moments in the play.
Peggy Windham as Wade's mother, "Babe", is thoroughly committed in her role, but the interpretation is so much at odds with the text's description of Babe's intelligence and passion, that to see her as a dazed and bewildered simpleton is jarring.
Hats off to Aleta Davis, a gifted singer and actor, for providing the most truthful character and the most credible characterization in this version of "Conecuh People". As Verse Lee Johnson Manley, the Black woman who raised Wade, giving her every right to call him "my baby", Ms. Davis plays every moment as if it was happening for the first time. -- She trusts in her baby's ability to help her "get a birthday and an age" without the benefit of a birth certificate; when they succeed and Verse Lee "becomes a person" at last, her joy electrifies.
"Conecuh People" has had a number of incarnations for some years, each one with a distinct interpretation. As a work-in-progress, it might be a good idea to take a few years off from performing it to incubate a new version.
Monday, April 19, 2010
ASF: "Hamlet"
The Alabama Shakespeare Festival is marketing this year's repertory as "A Season of Intrigue", and with the opening this weekend of "Hamlet", they are off to a good start. -- One of the staples of William Shakespeare's canon, the play abounds in intrigue both public and personal that, under Geoffrey Sherman's capable direction, makes this English Renaissance play accessible for contemporary audiences.
Chief among the ASF production's many qualities are its clarity and directness. Although some purists might complain of cutting it in principle, careful editing of the long script has honed the dense material into a two-hour and forty minute presentation that moves the action forward so that audiences are engaged in every moment -- a spare production that retains the essentials and focuses on the contradictions and complexities of human nature and of people's uncertain and unpredictable behavior.
As composer James Conely's military trumpets echo from around the house and soldiers are revealed on the parapet of Peter Hicks's grey framework castle, they are visited by the Ghost of the recently dead King, and it becomes increasingly clear that "something is rotten in the state of Denmark", setting up the intrigues that follow.
A revenge play similar to others of the Elizabethan & Jacobean periods sets the young Prince Hamlet [Nathan Hosner], along with his best friend and confidant Horatio [Matt D'Amico] the task of avenging his father's "most foul...murder" at the hands of his uncle Claudius [Anthony Cochrane], who has usurped both the throne and the widowed Queen Gertrude [Greta Lambert], whom he married right after the funeral of his brother, thus securing for himself the powers of state.
Obvious from his first appearance on stage that Hamlet despises his uncle, and coupled with the disturbing ghostly apparition's charge for revenge and Hamlet's resulting "antic disposition" [whether feigned or actual madness] and Polonius's [Rodney Clark] determined belief that Hamlet suffers from lovesickness for his daughter Ophelia [Kelley Curran], a number of intrigues are set in motion: secrecy, spying, eavesdropping, and prospects of iminent war between Denmark and Norway make complexity and confusion interfere with Hamlet's fulfilling his father's command while sustaining our interest.
Much attention has been paid to respecting Shakespeare's words in this "Hamlet". Without fail, the language is spoken by this company of actors with a clarity of diction that is rare, and with an comfort that makes the Bard's poetry credible in their mouths. When we hear the words clearly, the story and the characters [no matter how complex] deserve our attention and garner our respect. That being said, there are a couple of jarring notes in the sounds of voices: Mr. Cochrane's British accent is at odds with the American accents of the rest of the cast, and giving the Gravedigger [Paul Hopper] a Southern accent gets a couple of laughs but draws attention away from the content of the lines.
Performances in the featured roles are consistently first-rate, and Sherman grants to each his or her moment(s) to dominate the proceedings. As Rosencrantz and Guildenstern -- Hamlet's university friends, and Claudius's spies -- Jordan Coughtry and Michael Pesoli have a depth that isn't often seen; their nervousness and anxiety at being caught out by Hamlet in their deception are credibly humorous.
Mr. Clark's Polonius, a dignified and often bewildered chancellor, gives a solid display of advice to his son Laertes [Matthew Baldiga], and is continually caught off-guard by the intrigues of Hamlet and other members of the royal family. Mr. Cochrane and Ms. Lambert as the king and queen, in love at the beginning of the play, become more distant from each other as he is caught up in preserving his authority and she faces the truth of their relationship; his attempt at prayer and acceptance of his inability to repent of murdering his brother shows a humanly conflicted individual, and her account of Ophelia's death is a model of controlled passion and grief.
As the obedient daughter Ophelia, Ms. Curran displays her reluctance to be used as a pawn to entrap Hamlet & her real affection for him is crushed by his strange behavior; her later mad scenes are magical theatre moments in this show. Ricardo Vazquez delivers the First Player's speech in preparation of the play that will "catch the conscience of the king" in effectively naturalistic ways that reinforce Hamlet's advice to the players on acting styles.
When Laertes returns to avenge the death of Polonius, Mr. Baldiga burns with a fire that wants to burst out in contrast to Hamlet's indecisive behavior, and prepares us for their climactic fight. -- The action of the play builds so much to this fight, that one expects an extraordinary display of swordsmanship, a quickness full of risk and danger, one that makes us gasp in fear and admiration. Unfortunately, the fight in this production has none of those elements. Rather, it is slow, with moves that are all too clearly plotted out, so the tension just simply isn't there.
Nonetheless, most of our attention has been on Hamlet all the while, and Mr. Hosner gives a performance that is detailed and complex. As his Hamlet is effected by the cumulative events, and the opposition to his revenge [not the least is his own lack of action] builds from scene to scene, he fluctuates from anger to bewilderment to aggressiveness to irony to devious tactics to introspection, and takes us on this internal journey with him. Hosner's ability to speak the verse and communicate its various & simultaneous poetic meanings shows a master actor achieving a thoroughly believable character with all his contradictions. His delivery of the famous soliloquies -- "To be or not to be...", "Oh what a rogue and peasant slave am I...", among them -- are among the best renditions one can expect.
And his final scene with Horatio -- the ever-patient and supportive friend in the person of Mr. D'Amico here demonstrating the damage done by all the intrigues and his quiet acceptance of the death of a friend whose tale he has to tell the world -- is a painful reminder that greed and self-interest produce wounds that do not heal easily.
Chief among the ASF production's many qualities are its clarity and directness. Although some purists might complain of cutting it in principle, careful editing of the long script has honed the dense material into a two-hour and forty minute presentation that moves the action forward so that audiences are engaged in every moment -- a spare production that retains the essentials and focuses on the contradictions and complexities of human nature and of people's uncertain and unpredictable behavior.
As composer James Conely's military trumpets echo from around the house and soldiers are revealed on the parapet of Peter Hicks's grey framework castle, they are visited by the Ghost of the recently dead King, and it becomes increasingly clear that "something is rotten in the state of Denmark", setting up the intrigues that follow.
A revenge play similar to others of the Elizabethan & Jacobean periods sets the young Prince Hamlet [Nathan Hosner], along with his best friend and confidant Horatio [Matt D'Amico] the task of avenging his father's "most foul...murder" at the hands of his uncle Claudius [Anthony Cochrane], who has usurped both the throne and the widowed Queen Gertrude [Greta Lambert], whom he married right after the funeral of his brother, thus securing for himself the powers of state.
Obvious from his first appearance on stage that Hamlet despises his uncle, and coupled with the disturbing ghostly apparition's charge for revenge and Hamlet's resulting "antic disposition" [whether feigned or actual madness] and Polonius's [Rodney Clark] determined belief that Hamlet suffers from lovesickness for his daughter Ophelia [Kelley Curran], a number of intrigues are set in motion: secrecy, spying, eavesdropping, and prospects of iminent war between Denmark and Norway make complexity and confusion interfere with Hamlet's fulfilling his father's command while sustaining our interest.
Much attention has been paid to respecting Shakespeare's words in this "Hamlet". Without fail, the language is spoken by this company of actors with a clarity of diction that is rare, and with an comfort that makes the Bard's poetry credible in their mouths. When we hear the words clearly, the story and the characters [no matter how complex] deserve our attention and garner our respect. That being said, there are a couple of jarring notes in the sounds of voices: Mr. Cochrane's British accent is at odds with the American accents of the rest of the cast, and giving the Gravedigger [Paul Hopper] a Southern accent gets a couple of laughs but draws attention away from the content of the lines.
Performances in the featured roles are consistently first-rate, and Sherman grants to each his or her moment(s) to dominate the proceedings. As Rosencrantz and Guildenstern -- Hamlet's university friends, and Claudius's spies -- Jordan Coughtry and Michael Pesoli have a depth that isn't often seen; their nervousness and anxiety at being caught out by Hamlet in their deception are credibly humorous.
Mr. Clark's Polonius, a dignified and often bewildered chancellor, gives a solid display of advice to his son Laertes [Matthew Baldiga], and is continually caught off-guard by the intrigues of Hamlet and other members of the royal family. Mr. Cochrane and Ms. Lambert as the king and queen, in love at the beginning of the play, become more distant from each other as he is caught up in preserving his authority and she faces the truth of their relationship; his attempt at prayer and acceptance of his inability to repent of murdering his brother shows a humanly conflicted individual, and her account of Ophelia's death is a model of controlled passion and grief.
As the obedient daughter Ophelia, Ms. Curran displays her reluctance to be used as a pawn to entrap Hamlet & her real affection for him is crushed by his strange behavior; her later mad scenes are magical theatre moments in this show. Ricardo Vazquez delivers the First Player's speech in preparation of the play that will "catch the conscience of the king" in effectively naturalistic ways that reinforce Hamlet's advice to the players on acting styles.
When Laertes returns to avenge the death of Polonius, Mr. Baldiga burns with a fire that wants to burst out in contrast to Hamlet's indecisive behavior, and prepares us for their climactic fight. -- The action of the play builds so much to this fight, that one expects an extraordinary display of swordsmanship, a quickness full of risk and danger, one that makes us gasp in fear and admiration. Unfortunately, the fight in this production has none of those elements. Rather, it is slow, with moves that are all too clearly plotted out, so the tension just simply isn't there.
Nonetheless, most of our attention has been on Hamlet all the while, and Mr. Hosner gives a performance that is detailed and complex. As his Hamlet is effected by the cumulative events, and the opposition to his revenge [not the least is his own lack of action] builds from scene to scene, he fluctuates from anger to bewilderment to aggressiveness to irony to devious tactics to introspection, and takes us on this internal journey with him. Hosner's ability to speak the verse and communicate its various & simultaneous poetic meanings shows a master actor achieving a thoroughly believable character with all his contradictions. His delivery of the famous soliloquies -- "To be or not to be...", "Oh what a rogue and peasant slave am I...", among them -- are among the best renditions one can expect.
And his final scene with Horatio -- the ever-patient and supportive friend in the person of Mr. D'Amico here demonstrating the damage done by all the intrigues and his quiet acceptance of the death of a friend whose tale he has to tell the world -- is a painful reminder that greed and self-interest produce wounds that do not heal easily.
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Auburn: "Scapin"
Director Chris Qualls has brought the Telfair Peet Theatre at Auburn University a two-act laugh riot in Bill Irwin & Mark O'Donnell's "freely adapted" version of Moliere's "Scapin" -- and Qualls and his energetic ensemble have brought a lot of their own inventiveness to bear.
The script is true to Moliere's comic intentions, and utilizes assorted conventions and character-types of the commedia dell'arte: lots of slapstick, prattfalls, broad gestures, brightly colored costumes, a fast pace & heightened energy, vocal & physical gymnastics, instantly recognizable characters (blustering parents, rebellious children, wily servants among them) fill the stage from start to finish, and are given significant variety through the discipline of the actors and improvizational techniques that keep everything fresh. -- Mr. Qualls and his able cast successfully capitalize on all of them.
An often put-upon servant, Scapin [Payne Hopton-Jones, whose focus and energy improved after a tentative start], is conscripted by both his own master's son and a neighbor's son to convince the parents to approve of their sons' marriages -- and to pay for them. With the help of another servant, Sylvestre [Emily Stephens effortlessly follows Scapin's ever-changing plot scenarios], these machinations grow more complicated and require adjustments at every turn.
Huge demands are made of all the actors; they must be in good shape in order to sustain the frenetic pace and continuous tumbling they are called upon to do. These actors show no signs of either effort or exhaustion -- all seems to flow so very easily, whether a traditional leap-frog that later becomes a series of leaps while standing fully upright, or bouncing to wondrous heights, or bending their bodies into pretzel shapes or gravity-defying postures...all the while speaking animatedly and rapidly at full volume without gasping for breath.
The actors are individually consistent in their roles, yet there are frequent surprises that regularly hit their comic marks: Tyler Baxter as Octave is a bundle of bubbly energy reminiscent of Richard Simmons, with an effervescent face to match the silliness in the role; he is matched by Kristin Hopkins as Hyacinth, a vision in pink whose comic timing of switching energy is admirable. Leander, as played by Chase Cox, is a cowering sort who can twist his body into almost cartoon-like positions; his love interest is Zerbinette [Taylor Galvin], an archly defiant and outspoken woman whose deep laugh and aggressive manner make her one to contend with. The gifted Kat Grilli plays Octave's father Argante with such vocal power and ease as the standout actor of the spoken word. And Leander's father Geronte is played deftly by Eli Jolley, whose Monty Pythonesque "Ministry of Silly Walks" almost steals the show.
There are some hidden treasures in this production, not the least of which is an understated musician, Lloyd, played by Phillip Beard; his eccentric guitar playing and sound effects punctuate the scenes, often at unexpected times. -- And frequent anachronistic references to contemporary music, television shows, Sarah Palin, and popular films garner rapturous applause.
Replete with audience involvement, mistaken identities, revelations of true identities, confusion verging on chaos, and a wild chase scene near the finale, the comic happy ending comes at last. In just short of two hours, this laugh-out-loud romp leaves audiences aching with laughter. Wow!
The script is true to Moliere's comic intentions, and utilizes assorted conventions and character-types of the commedia dell'arte: lots of slapstick, prattfalls, broad gestures, brightly colored costumes, a fast pace & heightened energy, vocal & physical gymnastics, instantly recognizable characters (blustering parents, rebellious children, wily servants among them) fill the stage from start to finish, and are given significant variety through the discipline of the actors and improvizational techniques that keep everything fresh. -- Mr. Qualls and his able cast successfully capitalize on all of them.
An often put-upon servant, Scapin [Payne Hopton-Jones, whose focus and energy improved after a tentative start], is conscripted by both his own master's son and a neighbor's son to convince the parents to approve of their sons' marriages -- and to pay for them. With the help of another servant, Sylvestre [Emily Stephens effortlessly follows Scapin's ever-changing plot scenarios], these machinations grow more complicated and require adjustments at every turn.
Huge demands are made of all the actors; they must be in good shape in order to sustain the frenetic pace and continuous tumbling they are called upon to do. These actors show no signs of either effort or exhaustion -- all seems to flow so very easily, whether a traditional leap-frog that later becomes a series of leaps while standing fully upright, or bouncing to wondrous heights, or bending their bodies into pretzel shapes or gravity-defying postures...all the while speaking animatedly and rapidly at full volume without gasping for breath.
The actors are individually consistent in their roles, yet there are frequent surprises that regularly hit their comic marks: Tyler Baxter as Octave is a bundle of bubbly energy reminiscent of Richard Simmons, with an effervescent face to match the silliness in the role; he is matched by Kristin Hopkins as Hyacinth, a vision in pink whose comic timing of switching energy is admirable. Leander, as played by Chase Cox, is a cowering sort who can twist his body into almost cartoon-like positions; his love interest is Zerbinette [Taylor Galvin], an archly defiant and outspoken woman whose deep laugh and aggressive manner make her one to contend with. The gifted Kat Grilli plays Octave's father Argante with such vocal power and ease as the standout actor of the spoken word. And Leander's father Geronte is played deftly by Eli Jolley, whose Monty Pythonesque "Ministry of Silly Walks" almost steals the show.
There are some hidden treasures in this production, not the least of which is an understated musician, Lloyd, played by Phillip Beard; his eccentric guitar playing and sound effects punctuate the scenes, often at unexpected times. -- And frequent anachronistic references to contemporary music, television shows, Sarah Palin, and popular films garner rapturous applause.
Replete with audience involvement, mistaken identities, revelations of true identities, confusion verging on chaos, and a wild chase scene near the finale, the comic happy ending comes at last. In just short of two hours, this laugh-out-loud romp leaves audiences aching with laughter. Wow!
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