Monday, July 11, 2022

Fringe 2022 - Top 20 - #14 - The Brothers Dangus Vol. 1: The Liturgy of the Big Yellow Ghost – The Yes Fly List


A noble pastorale which confronts the audience with the [a]symbiotic relationship between arts and commerce. Nourish your mind, body, and spirit in playful revelry with the Brothers Dangus.

From the "More Information" tab on their Fringe show page: "June 30 2022: Portents of the Hot Hot Moon emerge nightly; the smattering of gnats, the smell of charred meats, and the mood is a lazy nod to inherent sexuality. We dine upon grapes and goo and have completed the first working draft of the script."
 
First, the names of the Dangus brothers are: Baby Dangus, Dangus Dangus, Zog Itasca Dangus, and Johnny Burbank Dangus, all of which I find amusing.

Second, one of the collaborators here is Derek Meyer, who I first saw in a Fringe show back in the day, and have seen since in numerous other shows with various theater companies whose work I admire.  So if Derek’s involved in creating this strangeness, I’ll give it a whirl.
 
Unsurprisingly there are content warnings on The Brothers Dangus for language, crude humor, drugs, guns, and loud noises - Sure, why not?


ADDENDUM, July 15th

The creators of the Brothers Dangus definitely saw my post about their show because A.J. Sass responded:

"Apparently people have not been heeding our warnings. This show will not in any way be good, and people should absolutely not come to it. It is designed to be bad. We are doing a bad show. We don't know how much clearer to make this
 
Matthew A. Everett: Brian Hesser, Derek Meyer, Zach Morgan, and me are concerned that you will irrevocably damage your stellar reputation by recommending our show to your many readers. We want you to thrive and prosper, and even mentioning a passing interest in our show will bring inconceivable misfortune to your livelihood when readers question your judgement and indeed, sanity, for pointing them towards the abject nightmare that is our offering to the 2022 MN Fringe Festival.
 
Definitely do not check out The Brothers Dangus Vol. 1: The Liturgy of the Big Yellow Ghost at the Rarig Thrust during the 2022 Minnesota Fringe Festival, and definitely don't visit their user-friendly website for more information on our show. DO visit their website for shows that are NOT ours."


So, we have been warned.  Take that for what you will :)


(You can click on the following links to see a set of links to the full Top 10 list, the Top 11-20 list, a list of returning favorites, and the full coverage of the 2022 Fringe on this blog.) 



Fringe 2022 - Top Ten - #7 - Daybreak Diner – Lady Z Productions (Maureen L. Bourgeois)


What if walls could talk? Welcome to Daybreak Diner! Pull up a chair and experience the past, present, life, love, and the discovery of self in a small town diner.

This is another entry in what’s going to probably be a common refrain in the blog this year, “I’m seeing this one because I just worked with someone on one of the play readings for Threshold Theater.”  Maureen L. Bourgeois, the creator of this Fringe show, did such a marvelous job as one of the leads in an offbeat comedy called “Lemuria” for Threshold, I would happily attend anything else she’s involved in.  So even though there’s not a ton of information on this one on the Fringe site, I saw Maureen’s name and that’s all I need to know.  The genre listings say Daybreak Diner is both comedy and drama and is flagged for both violence and adult language, so I am forewarned.
 

(You can click on the following links to see a set of links to the full Top 10 list, the Top 11-20 list, a list of returning favorites, and the full coverage of the 2022 Fringe on this blog.) 

 

 

Fringe 2022 - Top 20 - #15 - Bellerophon’s Shadow: Voyage of the Pegasus – Phantom Chorus Theatre


Space! Monsters! Adventure! Blacklight! Puppetry! Greek mythology? Join our intrepid bunraku puppet, Scout, and her A.I. companion "Fish" on an action packed journey through space.

I don’t get to see enough puppets the rest of the year, so I’m easily drawn to puppet shows at Fringe time.  This one has a charming behind the scenes video of the puppet being created and then used in rehearsals as it evolves into its final form.  It looks like fun, and a different kind of show to have in the mix, so Bellerophon's Shadow is on the list.

Addendum: they recently had a Fringe preview:


 

 

(You can click on the following links to see a set of links to the full Top 10 list, the Top 11-20 list, a list of returning favorites, and the full coverage of the 2022 Fringe on this blog.) 



Fringe 2022 - Top Ten - #6 - Black Wall Street: Dreamland Theatre – Doc Woods & Friends


On May 31, 1921 in Tulsa, Oklahoma audiences gathered at Dreamland Theatre to watch a screening of "The Green-Eyed Monster" when the show is interrupted with news of the impending lynching of a Black man.

I’m embarrassed to say how little I was taught about history in my educational life growing up.  I only learned about the Tulsa race massacre a few years ago.  So if a Fringe show like Black Wall Street: Dreamland Theatre is touching on that piece of history, hard as it may be to watch, I’m putting it on the list.  I also recognize the name of one of the actors in the ensemble, Charla Marie Bailey, which signals to me the audience will be in good hands.


(You can click on the following links to see a set of links to the full Top 10 list, the Top 11-20 list, a list of returning favorites, and the full coverage of the 2022 Fringe on this blog.) 



Fringe 2022 - Top 20 - #16 - Sunshine – House Full of Frogs (Franklin Heller)


Caught between the loss of her mother & her broken father, ride the highs & lows of the thoughts of a ballsy but broken gal stuck between her past & her next drink, on a journey of joy, pain & redemption.

The reason I’ve got this one on my list is that Franklin Heller is directing it.  Franklin is a familiar face to regular Fringe goers since he seems to volunteer all over the place during the festival.  Franklin also has been one of the actors who regularly sits in with my writing group, contributing both his talents as a performer and his insights as someone who sees and participates in a lot of theater.  All of which should make him an ideal Fringe festival director.  And if he’s found a script he likes, I trust that instinct.  So I’m making a point to get Sunshine on my schedule.
 

(You can click on the following links to see a set of links to the full Top 10 list, the Top 11-20 list, a list of returning favorites, and the full coverage of the 2022 Fringe on this blog.) 



Fringe 2022 - Top Ten - #5 - swim team – The Aquatic Center (george mcconnell, Samantha Johns)


swim team, inspired by Miranda July’s story, is a devised comedy exploring relationships between women dealing with the impact of toxic masculinity inflicted through romantic entanglements, and there is water.

Honestly, the only thing I need to know about swim team is that george mcconnell is directing and Samantha Johns is a production consultant on the show.  Those two (together or individually) create some of the most engaging, mind-boggling, amazing theater I’ve ever seen.  They directed a show back in 2012 called “Snowf**k” (without the asterisks) that I still think about.  So whatever they’re doing, whoever they’re working with, I’m on board.  There’s a video trailer on the show page on the Fringe site, and there’s more video and photos of this show in development on george’s website if you want more of a preview.  Very much looking forward to this one.  And if you haven’t seen work from these people before, you really should see swim team.
 

(You can click on the following links to see a set of links to the full Top 10 list, the Top 11-20 list, a list of returning favorites, and the full coverage of the 2022 Fringe on this blog.) 



Fringe 2022 - Top 20 - #17 - Jon Bennett: Fire in the Meth Lab – 2Hoots Productions


Dear Brother, How’s jail? I’ve written a show about you, is that ok? You’re in jail so you can’t really say no. Love your little brother, Jon

This is just one of those shows that it looks like the artist has been honing his craft touring it all over the place and getting raves while he does it, and it’s a comedy and I could use some reliable laughs.

5 stars from the Edmonton Sun, the National Post and the Sunday
4 stars from Chortle in the UK, which called it “Belly Laugh Funny and Emotionally Powerful”
Also 4 stars from Time Out Magazine, which said it was, ““Gut-wrenchingly good.  Bennett is a master storyteller.”
Jon and/or this show was a 2013 and 2014 selection in Montreal’s Just for Laughs Zoofest, a Critics Choice Award Winner at the San Diego Fringe, a Best Comedy nominee in Montreal five years running, and a nominee at Melbourne International Comedy Festival for something called the Golden Gibbo Award.

So, the guy brings the funny.  I’m curious to see what all the fuss is about.

Jon Bennett: Fire in the Meth Lab lists “audience participation” in the genres list for this one, but I’m assuming that doesn’t mean we’re all getting meth for attending.
 

(You can click on the following links to see a set of links to the full Top 10 list, the Top 11-20 list, a list of returning favorites, and the full coverage of the 2022 Fringe on this blog.) 



Fringe 2022 - Top Ten - #4 - Changing The Narrative: Climate Stories for Justice – Change Narrative LLC


The show is an evocative experience of the senses intended to connect both the head and heart on climate change and spur action on this critical issue. Featuring stories from local climate justice organizers.

From the "More Information" tab on their Fringe show page: "Produced by Jothsna Harris of Change Narrative. Hosted by Emcee Rasheed Harris, this production features live, spoken narratives by Twin Cities-based climate justice organizers interspersed with graphic illustration, music, and poetry.  Featured storytellers include Whitney Terrill (Minnesota Interfaith Power and Light), Nicole Ektnitphong (Climate Advocacy Lab), and Leslee GutiĆ©rrez Carrillo (COPAL); visual imagery by illustrator Lisa Troutman of Drawn Well and songwriters/poets Strong Buffalo and Ben Weaver (known together as the musical duo Buffalo Weavers).

The Changing the Narrative: Climate Stories for Justice program is supported in part by Oyate Hotanin as part of the recently-announced, ongoing series Society of Mother Earth (S.O.M.E.)—a collaboration between Change Narrative, Oyate Hotanin, and Buffalo Weavers."

Given all the bad news on so many fronts, including this one, I could really use the insights and inspiration of activists around the climate change issue.  So that’s why I’m going.  Don’t have any previous experience or special knowledge about any of the people involved, but the topic of the show itself is one I find compelling.  So Changing The Narrative goes on the list.

 

(You can click on the following links to see a set of links to the full Top 10 list, the Top 11-20 list, a list of returning favorites, and the full coverage of the 2022 Fringe on this blog.) 

 

 

Fringe 2022 - Top 20 - #18 - Have You Tried Cutting Dairy? – Ltd. Spoons Productions


One woman battles parts of herself and Long Covid in the surreal healthscape of an ongoing pandemic. A whimsical exploration of navigating illness and seeking wellness inside complex systems. And balloons!

Normally the last thing I’d want to see is anything that comes anywhere near the pandemic as subject matter, however one of the creators involved draws me to this in spite of that.  Kayla Hambek is a local playwright and we featured one of her plays, The Dragonflies, in the virtual new play reading series for Threshold Theater back at the beginning of this year.  It was an unusual and lovely play, again dealing with issues of health and how to live well. It also had a great sense of humor.  So I’m not surprised whimsical is part of the description of this show.  I’m also curious about the balloons.  So I’m going to give Have You Tried Cutting Dairy? a try.
 

(You can click on the following links to see a set of links to the full Top 10 list, the Top 11-20 list, a list of returning favorites, and the full coverage of the 2022 Fringe on this blog.) 



Sunday, July 10, 2022

Fringe 2022 - Top Ten - #3 - Finger Lickin’ Good - Special When Lit (Heather Meyer & Nissa Nordland)


A sex-fueled horror/comedy/edutainment show about fast-food giant Colonel Sanders. There will be blood (with 11 herbs & spices).

Despite having done this blogging about the Fringe for - well, let’s not dwell on how long - every year I still get surprised by discovering, “What do you mean this person hasn’t been on the top ten list before?  That’s clearly an oversight on my part.”  This year in that category we have Heather Meyer.  Don’t ask me how I overlooked Heather this long.  I’m dumb, I guess.  Heather is one of the best comedy writers in the Twin Cities, which is a metro area full of really good comedy writers.  If she and Nissa Nordland are writing something together, AND Mike Fotis is directing, AND the cast includes Sam Landman (as a naughty Colonel Sanders), Rita Boersma, Shanan Custer, and Duck Washington (and that’s just the artists whose work I know and admire, there are more involved) - it would be foolish of me not to attend and be entertained.  Normally I don’t go for a lot of shows with violence, blood and horror elements - but with all these people involved, I feel like I’ll be in good (if demented) hands with this one.  If Finger Lickin’ Good sounds like your kind of weirdness, you should definitely go.


(You can click on the following links to see a set of links to the full Top 10 list, the Top 11-20 list, a list of returning favorites, and the full coverage of the 2022 Fringe on this blog.) 



Fringe 2022 - Top 20 - #19 - Stars of the Twin Cities – Sam and Bethany Walker


Stars of the Twin Cities is a movie musical—an original film accompanied by a trio. The movie on screen is scored on stage. And there’s interludes of new vocal music. Stars are here!

They have a great video sampler of this one on their Fringe show page.  I like the idea of combining the film with live music - and the film itself seems so whimsical and silly that it looks like a fun time.  So it’s on the list.  Check out the video, you’ll know whether or not Stars of the Twin Cities for you, too.

 

(You can click on the following links to see a set of links to the full Top 10 list, the Top 11-20 list, a list of returning favorites, and the full coverage of the 2022 Fringe on this blog.) 

 

 

Fringe 2022 - Top Ten - #2 - Ancestors Rising – Goddard’s Gardens (Joseph Michael Davis)


It’s post-apocalyptic America...or what's left of it. After using music-powered experiments to time travel in search of a way to save a dying humanity, "afrophysicist" JahDavis returns home to join his fellow freedom fighters in rebuilding a new world out of the ashes of the old. Interweaving music, poetry, and storytelling, Ancestors Rising is an intimate and immersive portrayal of joy and resilience.

Original music, poetry, storytelling, joy and resilience - throw a little sci-fi and time travel on the pile and I’m in.  Don’t know anything about the artists involved and there isn’t any other information on the show page other than the description but kudos to the person who came up with that synopsis for Ancestors Rising, I’m sold.


(You can click on the following links to see a set of links to the full Top 10 list, the Top 11-20 list, a list of returning favorites, and the full coverage of the 2022 Fringe on this blog.) 



Fringe 2022 - Top 20 - #20 - Who’s Afraid of Winnie the Pooh? – Clevername Theatre


Winnie and Piglet invite the new couple over for drinks. A night of bitter, sadomasochistic mind games ensues. Witness the dramatic triumph of the year, nestled in the unassuming heart of The Hundred Acre Wood.

From the show's "More Information" tab on the Fringe site - "Earlier this year, A.A. Milne's classic "Winnie-The-Pooh" entered the public domain. In light of this, the fine folks at Clevername Theatre deduced that it would be in good taste to insert Milne's characters into a world of suburban, cynical adulthood, smoldering with rage. Put simply, an Edward Albee play.

A parody of Albee's most essential play, "Who's Afraid of Winnie the Pooh?" envisions Winnie & Piglet as The Hundred Acre Wood's George & Martha. The result; a distinction between fantasy and reality that explodes when half the cast is stuffed with fluff."

Some parodies I don’t find the least bit interesting.  For some reason this idea really amuses me.  Plus, it’s a comedy but it has just about all the warnings: violence, language, drugs, guns, loud noises and crude humor.  It just sounds delightfully inappropriate, so I lift it up as a change of pace for your schedule if you’re seeing a lot of more serious-minded fare.  It sounds ridiculous, and I mean that as a compliment.


(You can click on the following links to see a set of links to the full Top 10 list, the Top 11-20 list, a list of returning favorites, and the full coverage of the 2022 Fringe on this blog.) 



Fringe 2022 - Top Ten - #1 - The Marvelous Magpie Moon – DeerChild Puppets (Eva Adderly)

Could the rumors that Little Maggie Pie is stealing shiny things from her peers to help a magpie goddess capture their souls be true? Watch this puppet show to find out!

Most years when I’m perusing the Fringe show listings, looking for things I want to see, pondering what’s going to be in the Top 10 or 20, there’s always a show that pops out and makes me think, “Yes, absolutely, that’s one I want to make sure I don’t miss, that’s something I’m going to schedule everything else around, that’s probably my #1.”  This year it’s The Marvelous Magpie Moon and the reason is simple - Eva Adderly.

The group DeerChild Puppets is the creation of Eva Adderly.  Eva passed through the writing group I run for a few years after she moved to the Twin Cities.  She’s a really good and inventive playwright.  And she’s perhaps an even better puppeteer.  The creation and public display of puppetry has been the focus of Eva’s last several years across various venues.  I haven’t gotten to see a lot of it in person and have had to content myself with seeing the pictures of the work in progress and shows after the fact on her social media feeds.

So there’s no better time than the Fringe to fix that gap in my entertainment diet.  There’s not a lot of detail to be found about the show on its Fringe show page (just the description above and the genre listings of “magic, mystery, and puppetry”), but if Eva’s the creative mind behind it all, that’s all the information I need to convince me to go.  You should check it out, too.  I have no higher recommendation this Fringe.  Very much looking forward to this one.

 

(You can click on the following links to see a set of links to the full Top 10 list, the Top 11-20 list, a list of returning favorites, and the full coverage of the 2022 Fringe on this blog.) 

 

 

Tuesday, July 05, 2022

Fringe 2022 - Twenty


Back in 2003, then executive director of the Minnesota Fringe Festival Leah Cooper, and then Fringe communications and web guru Matthew Foster, approached me and asked, “Hey, would you be interested in getting free tickets to Fringe shows in exchange for writing a blog about the festival?”

I replied, “Sure, sounds like fun.  What’s a blog?”

At the time, the Fringe website hosted the blog, mine and a half dozen others.  And we were each supposed to come up with a pithy name for our respective blogs.  Bereft of any solid naming ideas, I thought, “Single White Fringe Geek” is an amusing twist on that stalker movie “Single White Female.”  It’s just a silly joke, I’m sure it won’t follow me around for two decades or anything.

After a couple of years the Fringe off-loaded the blogs to the online newspaper the Twin Cities Daily Planet, who a number of years after that just discontinued the Fringe bloggers as a group altogether, or at least set us free to pursue our own way of blogging without their platform as backup.

Shortly after I started doing this annual Fringe coverage, my Mom just happened to be in town visiting at the same time as part of the Fringe, saw a few shows with me, and she was instantly hooked.  For 16 years, she arranged her summer visits to coincide with the first week of the festival, and we crammed in as many shows to see together as possible.

She died quite unexpectedly and suddenly of a brain tumor just a month before the Fringe of 2019.

Then the Fringes of 2020 and 2021 had to migrate to the internet due to the COVID-19 pandemic.

And now here we are, my 20th year of blogging about the Minnesota Fringe Festival.

July 4th was spent perusing all the show pages on the Fringe website, learning as much as I could about them all.

And I started to feel that old excitement again.

A lot can happen in the month between now and the start of the festival, of course.

But feelings of genuine interest in so many of the shows and the challenge of putting together the puzzle of a schedule of Fringe-going resurfaced, uncomplicated (even if just for a minute or two) by fear or grief.

I feel willing and ready to take the plunge again.

Just in time.

So I’ll be posting here in the ramp-up to the festival - notes on returning favorites, and a Top 20 of new shows and artists I’m most excited to see, and a running commentary on the vagaries of putting together a schedule that’s both interesting to me, and also just logistically possible.

There’s a memorial candle that I light on July 1st, the anniversary of Mom’s death.  Three years gone now.  I kept it going over the holiday weekend, and kept it nearby as I did my Fringe homework.  The flame seemed to be particularly tall and playful during those hours.  (I’m anthropomorphizing a wick, wax and fire, I know - but regardless, I do feel closer to her this time of year, and wish I could discuss both the thrilling and the ridiculous of the roster with her again.  I shall have to content myself with ideas of what I guess might be her thoughts in these situations.)

More shortly…

I need to sit down and plot out some Fringe strategy, and then I’ll have plenty to type about.

Thanks to the Fringe staff, volunteers and all the artists who are getting the live Fringe experience back on its feet.  I know it isn’t without complications, but I’m very much looking forward to it.

 

(You can click on the following links to see a set of links to the full Top 10 list, the Top 11-20 list, a list of returning favorites, and the full coverage of the 2022 Fringe on this blog.)   

 

 

Wednesday, March 16, 2022

Theater review - Orlando - Theatre Pro Rata - A Whimsical Journey Across Time and Gender - 4.5 stars


I haven’t been getting out to see and review theater much over the past two years.  But deciding to go see this production was easy.

It’s Theatre Pro Rata
producing Sarah Ruhl’s adaptation
of Virginia Woolf’s novel Orlando.

Those are the only three reasons I need.

If you need any more convincing than that, read on.

It is the fanciful story of a person named Orlando (Courtney Stirn) who starts life as a young man in the late 1500s in England.  Queen Elizabeth is taken by his youth and beauty and takes him back to the royal court with her, conferring power, wealth and privilege on him.  He attempts to write poetry, and catches the eye of many eligible women younger than the Queen.  He breaks his share of hearts while also having his own heart broken.  Then at the age of 30 (right before intermission), Orlando transforms into a woman.  And then lives a few hundred more years into the 1920s.  Needless to say, this is an adjustment, being unbound by time, while being bound to ideas and expectations of different genders across time.

“And the flower bloomed and faded, and the sun rose and set.”

There was a film adaptation of this story back in 1992, directed by Sally Potter and introducing me to lead actress Tilda Swinton for the first time. (Yes, this was 30 years ago, and as I am not unbound by time… you can do the math.  Tilda Swinton, uncannily, looks the same today as she did then).  I mention the film because this was the thing that first made me fall in love with this story, because I had a most unusual experience as an audience member.  When I realized the movie was drawing to a close, I was genuinely sad, because I was having such a good time, I wanted the story to just keep going.  

“He felt the need of something to attach his heart to.”

Audiences will have a similar experience with Sarah Ruhl’s version of Orlando and the way Theatre Pro Rata brings it to life.  I’m a huge fan of Ruhl’s writing and she’s a perfect match to retell Woolf’s tale for the stage.  Orlando is lyrical, sexy, sad, whimsical, funny, and always thought-provoking.  You will want to spend more time in their company.

“The great wings of silence beat up and down the empty house.”

I keep having the urge to say Orlando is a simple production, but not only is that kind of insulting but it’s also not true.  It just looks like a simple production but in fact there’s a ton of work going on here from all involved.  They just make it look easy as it glides elegantly along.

“In all the time she was writing, the world continued.”

For instance, the setting designed by MJ Leffler.  It looks like the production creates a myriad of locations across almost four hundred years of history with nothing more than a tree, a table, two chairs, and a long, cushioned bench that can double as a bed.  But the tree is enormous.  While it’s clearly flat and not a three-dimensional fully formed tree, the thing towers over the stage, looking vaguely like a hooded figure when you catch it out of the corner of your eye.  How it remains solidly upright is quite an impressive feat of engineering.

“Frozen roses fell in showers.”

And those four other items of furniture are accessorized by a whole panoply of props and other whimsical elements designed by Rachel Krieger.  These additional touches as much as anything help set time and place in the sprawling story.  When Orlando and the Russian princess Sasha mime skating down a frozen river through a winter landscape, two members of the ensemble hold up small cut-outs of evergreen trees of various sizes, passing them back and forth to one another, handing them off behind their backs, to indicate movement.  When Sasha later abandons Orlando to sail back to her home country, a cutout of a boat is carried by one cast member through a sea of icebergs large and small, held by other ensemble members, bobbing in the imaginary waves.

“Clothes change our view of the world, and the world’s view of us.”

The other thing doing a lot of heavy lifting carrying us through time and space are the colorful costumes designed by Mandi Johnson.  They set the period while also giving the visual canvas regular splashes of color, and offering visual signifiers of characters as the actors swiftly transition from one role to the next across Orlando’s life – Sasha’s fur coat and cap, Queen Elizabeth’s high collar, a sea captain’s jacket, the way Orlando goes from being very much a man of one time to being a woman of another.

“Death?  Oh, that’s nothing really.  Just a prick in the sides.”

Emmet Kowler’s lighting design and Jake Davis’ sound design are both subtle and evocative, opening up the audience’s eyes and ears and then focusing them down in key moments in ways it can be easy to overlook, but the whole production wouldn’t be nearly as good without them.  And given the number of balls in the air that need to be juggled, in setting up, running and then re-setting the show at night’s end, stage manager Clara Costello must feel like she, too, lives over 300 years for every performance.

“Don’t go!  I’ve much to tell you, and much to ask.”

Director Carin Bratlie Wethern has once again gathered and guided a great ensemble of actors to create this endearingly peculiar story – company members, regular collaborators and brand new faces alike.  She is ably assisted in this task by dialect coach Keely Wolter, dramaturg Gina Musto, and gender consultant Shira Gitlin, who all are responsible for key pieces of the puzzle.

“I was left the only survivor, on a raft, holding a biscuit.”

And of course, the cast, playing dozens of characters over the centuries of Orlando’s life, sometimes only getting a couple of lines to create a whole person. Trickier still is the balance between presenting the narrative voice of Ruhl channeling Woolf always reminding the audience they’re watching a story, and then turning on a dime and living fully within the life of a human character and taking the audience along for the emotional ride.  It’s a thrilling trick to watch them pull off again and again.

“Orland turned hot, turned cold, longed to crush acorns beneath his feet.”

I’d be remiss if I didn’t specially call out Courtney Stirn’s work in the title role of Orlando.  I’m surprised I’ve missed their work up until now, they’re not brand new to the Twin Cities theater scene.  But I’m so happy I got to seem them in this role and very much look forward to seeing them in whatever they do next.  The production wouldn’t work without a great Orlando, and Stirn is great.  The core of who Orlando is as a human being carries over from their time on earth as a man, into the latter phase of their life as a woman, even as they play the differing roles society demands of them in the two sets of skin (and wardrobe of clothes) they wear.  It’s a real kick to watch them work this transformative magic.

“Love has two faces and two bodies.”

Equally impressive is the work of the ensemble backing up Orlando and populating the many worlds they live in - Ankita Ashrit, Amber Bjork, Rachel Flynn, Ninchai Nok-Chiclana, Nissa Nordland Morgan, Michael Quadrozzi, Emily Rosenberg, and Andrew Troth. Everyone gets their turn in the spotlight, often several, in key roles across Orlando’s story.  There’s Bjork’s previously mentioned Russian princess; Flynn as a relentless suitor Orlando can’t seem to shake whether they’re a man or a woman; Ashrit as one of the many female hearts Orlando breaks as a young swain; Troth’s kindly but bewildered sea captain; Nok-Chiclana and Rosenberg doing the whole “play within a play thing” as Othello and Desdemona; Nordland Morgan’s formidable and hilarious Queen Elizabeth; and Quadrozzi as the man who wins Orlando’s female heart, marries her, and is the last person she thinks of before death.

“I am about to understand.”

Sometimes it’s more difficult to write about a good show than a bad one.  If nothing’s wrong, do you end up talking about everything?  I could go on.

But to keep it simple, and not to go on any longer: It’s a great production of a great stage adaptation of a great story.  You should go.

Theatre Pro Rata’s production of Orlando runs through March 27, 2022 at the Crane Theater (2303 Kennedy Street NE,

4.5 stars - Very Highly Recommended

Theatre Pro Rata requires photo ID and Proof of Full Vaccination or a negative Covid test within 72 hours for all audience members, staff, and artists. Proof of Full Vaccination can be your vaccination card, a photo of your vaccination card, or a digital record of your vaccination on a smart phone app. More information about Theatre Pro Rata’s COVID safety protocols is posted online

[Photos: top - Courtney Stirn as Orlando and Amber Bjork as Sasha; lower down - Courtney Stirn as Orlando (center) with chorus (l to r) Andrew Troth, Nissa Nordland Morgan, Amber Bjork, and Ankita Ashrit – photography by Alex Wohlhueter]


Saturday, March 12, 2022

Theater Review - The Big Blue River - Mariah Theatre - Shockingly Hopeful - 4.5 stars


Not only am I grateful I went to see Patrick Coyle’s new play The Big Blue River, the inaugural offering of his new Mariah Theatre Company, I’m also very glad I stayed for the audience talkback afterward (which is not a sentiment often expressed about audience talkbacks after a show).  

“I think writing’s kept me alive.”

One of the audience members said they found it “shockingly hopeful,” which is a very apt description of this unusual script.  They further elaborated that, given the subject matter, they were prepared for it to end up being very dark, “and I don’t mind dark, I’m Irish.”  (Knowing laughter rippled through several segments of the audience.) “But by intermission, I knew all the characters were going to be all right.  They all seemed to be doing the right things to come out on the other side of what they were going through - they were talking, they were writing, they were expressing themselves through art.”  And I found that fascinating because I had the exact opposite experience.  

“I blamed myself. It’s what we do, the people that are left behind.”

I went into intermission for The Big Blue River having no idea where the plot was going or how it was going to end (and that’s not a bad thing, I love that, it happens so rarely anymore), and I was not sure that anyone was going to be all right.  It turns out I needn’t have been as worried as I was, and that other audience member had the correct instinct to suspect that things were somehow going to be OK, as improbable as it might seem.  And that’s not a spoiler.  Because everyone in this play is at least two or three different people, and any one of them could take a wrong turn and one of their other personas could still pull things together.

“Freud said that the Irish are impervious to therapy.”

Our main character is Laura Grace (Gini Adams), a therapist who probably shouldn’t be a therapist.  We learn later that she probably went into the profession for the wrong reasons.  Though she may have had a good run for a couple of decades in this job, she’s not feeling like she’s doing herself or her patients much good lately.  Also, her impending 50th birthday is weighing on her like a ton of bricks. (Again, as we’ll discover later, that birthday has additional significance in her personal history. Laura is a woman of many secrets.)  

“I say the same thing over and over, like a zombie therapist.”

Just that little bit there about the birthday is an example of the craftsmanship going on in Coyle’s script.  There are no wasted details.  Everything pays off, either in the moment or later when you aren’t expecting it, often both.  Even the opening lines of the play, where Laura is recording flippant case notes about family therapy with a mother and daughter, has echoes in the closing moments.  The Big Blue River is a meaty play with a lot of humor and heartache that it seems the actors all had a great time digging into.  The audience is also along for the ride.

“I’m unfinished.  So are you.”
“We all are.”


Laura doesn’t have much of a life.  We only see her in her office, and at a local wine bar where she drinks (a lot) while typing a screenplay of her own within the play we’re watching.  Laura has become more than a bit obsessed with a client, Frank Dolan (Jim Cunningham), who just walked off his job one day and jumped in the big blue river of the title to finally see what was around the bend which he’d never thought to explore before.  After losing his job, he then pretended to go to work for three months rather than tell his wife.  Frank’s therapy is reluctant and legally required so the push and pull between him and Laura isn’t your usual therapist/client relationship.  Laura starts imagining scenarios in her screenplay in which she is Frank’s wife.  She also imagines the daughter they have together, named Teagan (Sulia Rose Altenberg).  We see scenes of this life she creates on her laptop come to life onstage in an imaginary kitchen. The sympathetic waiter Donald (Derek Long) at the wine bar becomes her often enthusiastic audience, reading the pages she shares with him.

“So you prefer the company of women.  That just means you have taste.”
“I like women.  I loved Phillip.”


All of this is wildly unprofessional and a violation of patient privacy but Laura just can’t help herself.  She doesn’t have a life so she’s creating one - and she’s starting to get the two very messed up in her head.  In the imaginary life, Laura’s character starts having an affair with a younger man named Tanner (Matt Wall), inspired by the most mundane of encounters with one of Donald’s fellow waiters at the bar.  The alcohol isn’t helping.  Neither are her own unresolved personal issues.  It’s quite a stew, and of course inevitably the stew boils over.

“People crack.  Life’s hard.”

Patrick Coyle, directing his own script, has assembled a solid cast who all deliver on a tricky, and unexpectedly very funny, bit of storytelling.  The lines between fantasy and reality in The Big Blue River are really murky.  That’s not a bad thing, and it appears to be a very deliberate strategy on the part of the production.  The reality of Laura’s imagined life with Frank isn’t undercut by the design.  The set designed by Vanessa Miles for the kitchen isn’t any less real than Laura’s therapy office.  The costumes designed by Lin Mathison are just as everyday normal on the bodies of the Dolan family in Laura’s screenplay as they are when Frank visits Laura’s office for a therapy appointment.  The lighting designed by Jeff Sherman, and the props he’s assembled for all the locations in the play, are just as grounded in reality both in and out of Laura’s head.  

“There were no mistakes made in the creation of you.”

The only signifiers that we’re moving from reality to fantasy and back again are some changes in the landscape of Katherine Horowitz’s sound design, Russel Holsapple’s music, and the change in projections on a screen that fills the space between the office in the real world and the kitchen in the fake one.  Projections reinforce the photographic reality of our world, and then dissolve into surreal black and white paintings approximately reality when we dip into Laura’s screenplay.  But again, I think we’re supposed to be a little disoriented and confused - because Laura is.  

“She says she wants it to just be us - monotonous.”
“Monogamous?”
“That, too.”


A few times we go completely off the deep-end, into a sitcom reality complete with laugh track, or a Pirandello style discussion between the characters of Laura’s screenplay outside of their plot, or a moody black and white film (shot by cinematographer Greg Stiever), even an onstage parody of arthouse films full of long silences and meaningful looks.  But most of the time, Laura’s imagined world is unnervingly real.  

“No one ever seems to get better.”

And it only gets weirder when you sit and think about it later.  For instance, almost none of what we learn about Frank in the play, outside of his therapy sessions, is real - he spends the bulk of the play being presented to us in the context of Laura’s imagined life with him.  And the daughter Teagan?  Doesn’t exist at all.  We never see her in real life.  She is mentioned but never realized.  How’s that for an acting challenge?  Yes, you’re a character, Sulia, but you’re not a real person in this play.

“Your secrets are safe with me.  I have many.”

The script’s relationship to queerness is a strange one, in both levels of reality.  While I’m happy to see the inclusion of characters that allow the play to escape being completely heteronormative, the way the play utilizes them is odd.  There’s even a scene in the play that calls Donald out for a being a cliche, the sassy gay friend, who moonlights as a drag queen with an act inspired by Madonna’s “Like A Virgin” (from, gulp, almost 40 years ago now - I grew up with that song).  There’s also a lot of real estate in the play, both in the real world and the unreal one, devoted to justifying how Frank was spotted in a drag bar wearing an earring but we swear, really and truly, he’s not gay.  The imaginary daughter Teagan has an also imaginary but unseen transgender male partner who remains completely offstage even in the fake reality.  And Frank tells Teagan a (completely imaginary?) story about a childhood friend who was gay and hung himself.   Don’t get me wrong, the heterosexuals in this play are pretty messed up and have suicidal tendencies (and histories), too.  But it’s hard to know what to do with that assortment of representation.  It’s a bit too “self-loathing Tennessee Williams” for my taste.  However, it’s also not the point or the main focus of the play, so it’s a side issue, even though it’s one to which the play keeps returning.

“Please tell me you haven’t blamed yourself for this all these years.”
“Not all the years.”


The Big Blue River is about the power and the danger of imagination, the salvation and the treacherousness of storytelling, and the seductive strategy of solving other people’s problems rather than facing your own.  It’s alternately hilarious and serious, and often quite moving (even if some of the things tugging at your heart strings are a couple of extra levels removed from reality than a play would normally be).  

“I get so lost in my project it scares me.”

Does Laura deserve a happy ending?  Maybe not.  But that’s probably why her last name is Grace.  If anyone needs a little unearned forgiveness, it’s Laura. (Probably best not to get me started on the level of forgiveness I think the rest of us could use right now.)

“Why are we here?”
“To thank her, for existing.”


Mariah Theatre Company’s world premiere production of The Big Blue River runs through March 27, 2022 at the North Garden Theater (929 Seventh Street West in St. Paul, MN).  Be aware, all showtimes are at 7pm (not 7:30 or 8).  

The venue’s policy is that all attendees are vaccinated against COVID-19, but they don’t have anyone checking that - they just ask for cooperation in the online ticketing process and leave it at that.  Half the audience I attended with wasn’t masked (I still do mask up, but that’s partly because one of my jobs is working at a theater that was shut down for a year and has had to cancel performances and whole productions since because of the virus so, I’m trying to mitigate risk to myself and others - while dealing with hundreds of strangers every day.  Your mileage may vary.)

That’s another way of saying, I don’t leave the house to see a lot of theater right now.  I chose to go see The Big Blue River.  You should, too.

4.5 stars - Very Highly Recommended



[Photo: Derek Long as Donald and Gini Adams as Laura in Patrick Coyle's "The Big Blue River." Photography by Keith Bridges]




Tuesday, February 15, 2022

Theater Review - Fearless 5: Music - Fearless Comedy Productions - 4.5 stars

These days, still waiting for the Omicron wave of the COVID-19 pandemic to fully subside, I need a really good reason to leave the house, even fully vaccinated, boosted and with a mask on.

Fearless 5: Music from Fearless Comedy Productions is a good reason to leave the house and experiment with attending live theater again.  I’m very glad I went.  Both logistically and artistically, it’s well worth your attention.

“I want to feel those apples, Sven!”

Each year Fearless Comedy Productions commissions five playwrights to write a short play on a common theme. (I saw their Dreams showcase of new work back in early 2020 - just before, you know… - and really enjoyed it).  Any theater willing to encourage new work into existence is OK in my book, before we even get into discussing the work itself.  This year’s theme is Music.  This year’s playwrights are Denzel Belin, Angela Fox, Kelvin Hatle, Kayla Sotebeer, and Tim Wick.  Nobody had to write a musical but three of them did.  The other two were, shall we say, “musical adjacent.”  All them are, each in their own way, a kind of love letter to the creative impulse, exploring why people make music, and theater.  

“They say the secret ingredient is love - which, like, barf.”

This “art about artists” genre normally isn’t my thing, but here it really hooked me.  This may be partly due to the fact that Fearless 5: Music is the first live theater I’ve chosen to see in almost two years - I may have been missing the live theater experience even more than I realized.  But I should also give credit where it’s due.  It’s not just circumstance.  Fearless 5: Music is also just really charming, sometimes even adorable.  These stories aren’t about just “art for art’s sake,” they’re all about humans pushing themselves to create something - and how that attempt changes them.  It’s hard not to like this show, even in its sometimes less successful moments, because all the stories are about people who are trying their best. So you end up rooting for these characters - and the artists creating them, on and off stage.

“Unless you’ve got a thing for vinegar and tears.”

All five plays utilize the same very hard-working set of seven actors: Michael Bloom, Caleb Cabiness, Mackenzie Diggins, Joy Ford, Blair Kott (who’s also the choreographer), Adrienne Reich, and Emma Tiede.  All of them are in at least three of the five plays, a couple are in four of them, and a couple are in all five (phew).  In several cases, they’re also playing multiple roles within the same short play so these actors get a real workout, and everyone gets their big moments in the spotlight over the course of the night.  It must have been tricky to balance the evening that way, for directors, writers, actors and producers alike, so an extra nod for degree of difficulty there, because it makes for a more satisfying audience experience, too.  (Don’t even ask me how they managed to arrange a rehearsal schedule for all five of these scripts at the same time to land on the same opening night - the mind boggles.)

“She’s not a very good actor because her evil is showing.”

The real standout here is “No Small Parts,” written by Angela Fox, and directed by Cara White, which the Fearless Comedy folks saved for the big closer of the evening.  It’s the one play of the five that I immediately want to see developed into a full play.  (If all five of the plays were at this level, the overall evening would be rated 5 stars, not just 4.5).   “No Small Parts” is about a group of people putting on a musical called “Hills of Love” but it’s told entirely from the point of view of the actors playing the supporting roles (sort of “Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead, and Putting on a Production of the Sound of Music”).  Our lead/supporting characters are Bernice (Adrienne Reich) aka Crowd Member #3 and her friend Betty (Emma Tiede), who are both really excited that Betty has finally landed a role with an actual name, even if that name is just Mrs. Smith.  Bernice and Betty are our guides to the effort it takes, even when you’re not the person who’s ever in the spotlight.  In many ways, it’s the most human of the five plays because it’s not dealing with the stars, it’s dealing with the most ordinary of people, the ones you maybe don’t remember,  but who nonetheless help populate the world of any play and make it real.  

“Unlike ‘Pericles,’ the sonnets have a lot of subtext.”

The music in “No Small Parts” is also the most successful of the whole evening.  There’s a genuinely hilarious song about being an alto voice in a world where sopranos get all the attention, the melody line, and way more notes to sing.  There’s also a running gag about the music director character (Joy Ford) making “Sound of Music” jokes that none of the cast members understand or laugh at (but I did).  And the closing musical number, “No Small Parts,” really stuck the landing by doing something you wouldn’t think was all that revelatory, but it really gave me goosebumps.  Multi-part harmony, live, in front of me.  The rest of the cast is singing the theme song to “Hills of Love” while Bernice is singing the chorus to “No Small Parts” and the way all the voices and all the notes collide together and blend - it’s such a simple thing but it was really beautiful.  The whole ensemble of seven is involved in this one and it’s really nicely done, small parts and not so small parts alike.

“Something perfect for the mature 14-year-olds we are.”

The second half of the evening after intermission overall is a bit stronger than the first half.  The other play after the break is a close second for my favorite for the evening, Denzel Belin’s “Westbook Middle School is Proud to Present its Fall Musical which Opens Tomorrow for General Audiences,” directed by Duck Washington.  Belin has created the backstage world of a school production of “Mortgage, The Musical” - and music director Chad Dutton (always visible on stage throughout the evening playing keyboard accompaniment, and his own human version of a running gag serving each play as needed) had great fun playing background music for a bunch of songs that are very close to but not quite songs from the musical “Rent.”  This musical amusement continues throughout, while star player Aiden (Michael Bloom) and stage manager Conrad (Caleb Cabiness) flirt and moon over each other like the smitten, horny teenagers they are, and often forget there’s a performance that needs their attention on the other side of the curtain.  This is one of the sweetest, most human relationships we get to see all night, so it’s nice how unapologetically queer it is.  

“There are no small parts.  Be the lightning!”

Backstage at Westbook Middle School is also sadly the one place the audience is reminded that there’s a pandemic going on because, pre-2020, there would have been a couple of instances of kissing between Aiden and Conrad.  But, it’s post-2020, so these moments are artfully staged to conceal any actual physical contact of lips.  It’s the suggestion of kissing, rather than actual kissing.  They do what they can - it’s just a bit sad that this is where we are, probably for a while yet, in terms of human intimacy onstage.  Reich and Tiede are back in this short as well, as another sort of couple/non-couple.  The trajectory of their relationship, such as it is, is a bit more confusing and a bit less grounded, than the two guys, so it’s the less successful pairing.  The first couple gets more stage time, though, so it’s more of a shortcoming of limited time than anything the actors are doing with the characters.  If the piece in its next incarnation were longer, I think these young ladies backstage would also get their full due.

The first half of the evening consists of three shorts:

“The Bard” - written by Kayla Sotebeer; directed by Aiden Milligan
“The Second Annual Upper Midwest Vegan Ribfest” - written by Kelvin Hatle; directed by Jason Kruger
and “Macbeth: The Musical” - written by Tim Wick; directed by David Rand-McKay

“I know how to play augmented chords now, you wouldn’t understand.”

“The Bard” is an anachronistic mini-musical focused on a traveling troubadour of times gone by (Caleb Cabiness) surrounded by an assortment of past lovers (the other six members of the ensemble), trying to find his “true voice” and being led astray temporarily by a bartender with fuzzy ulterior motives (Joy Ford) who insists he needs to be sad and edgy to be a real artist.

“Vegans are not into irony.”
“If they were, they’d eat meat.”


“The Second Annual Upper Midwest Vegan Ribfest” is a deftly written tale of a trio of musicians coming back together one more time (one last time?) for a gig at the titular vegan ribfest.  The leader of the band (Cabiness again) is perpetually late but still sure their band Wild Sky is always one performance away from really catching on, even though their days of putting out an EP and being “the opening act for the opening act for Soungarden” are long behind them and they’re all stumbling through whatever day jobs they landed in (that they never thought they’d stick with all this time).  The bass guitarist (Bloom again) is an easy-going guy who’s just happy to be wherever he is and doesn’t really trouble himself with worrying about fame or success.  The drummer (Tiede again) questions what the hell they think they’re doing, and what they ever thought they were doing before.  It’s a funny, slightly melancholy character study of three people who’ll never be famous, and still don’t know when to quit, and maybe they never should.  Because there’s something about trying, and not giving up, that’s almost… noble?

“I like to call it ‘Murder Castle’”

“Macbeth: The Musical” is exactly what the title would lead you to expect - and then not at all what the title would lead you to expect.  A playwright (Tiede again) has created a musical adaptation which she calls “Scottish Play, the Musical” for which a director (Reich again), a stage manager (Mackenzie Diggins) and the two lead actors (Bloom again, and Blair Kott) all gather in someone’s living room for a first rehearsal.  They also refer repeatedly to the onstage musical director Chad, but always cut him off just before he’s allowed to speak.  There’s a lot of inside jokes about theater, Shakespeare, musicals, and even Vincent Price’s horror revenge flick “Theater of Blood” (which, as a theater critic, I should be wary of).  The opening number of the musical is an inspired bit of silliness in which, among other things, Kott is required to perform the roles of Lady Macbeth AND the Three Witches AND Banquo, all at the same time.  Reich gets three goofy costumes and three very weird character turns in the space of just a few minutes so she takes the material and runs with it.

“You know what bothers me?! ‘Coriolanus’ set in a bicycle shop!”

Members of the cast do introductions of each piece to help cover the necessary scene shifts between each play.  The set is often just an assortment of chairs, a table, occasionally a rolling clothes rack.  The logistics of making this thing run so smoothly are impressive, so hats off to the stage manager Jason Stone, light and sound designer Dan Ruby, and producer Jason Kruger - and of course the full ensemble of actors, the directors, and the music director - for keeping this thing rolling right along.

“I feel like a brought a lot of life to Whore #2.”

Even with three doses of Pfizer vaccine in my bloodstream and a ready supply of N95 masks, it takes a lot to get me out the door these days other than my job or grocery shopping.  I have missed theater terribly, but haven’t always been convinced it’s a good idea to gather (or encourage others to gather through writing reviews like this).  So I have to thank Fearless Comedy Productions for giving me the excuse I needed to end my theater drought.  There were many times throughout the evening I was just watching a play again, and not worried about the circumstances, or even aware I was doing this while wearing a mask.  Fearless 5: Music was a long overdue bit of escape.  And you can’t ask much more from theater than that.

Fearless 5: Music runs through February 26, 2022 at the Historic Mounds Theater, 1029 Hudson Road in St. Paul, MN.

4.5 stars - Very Highly Recommended

Please note: The Mounds Theatre requires proof of a full course of COVID-19 vaccination. Patrons must have a completed COVID-19 vaccination card, with their final dose at least fourteen days prior to the event. Attendees must wear masks inside the venue while not eating or drinking.

Proof of vaccination may include a physical card or a photo of a complete vaccination card that matches the patron ID.

(Cast photo, clockwise from bottom left:  Emma Tiede, Blair Kott, Mackenzie Diggins,  Michael Bloom, Adrienne Reich, and Caleb Cabiness [not pictured, Joy Ford]; photo by Dan Norman; Fearless 5 logo by Chris Rodriguez)


 

Monday, February 14, 2022

Why I Haven’t Been Writing Theater Reviews

 

As I finally start to dip my toe back in the waters of reviewing theater again, I feel like I have to make some apologies.

Of course, when everything was shut down and there wasn’t live theater at all because of the COVID-19 pandemic, it was pretty obvious why there weren’t reviews.  There wasn’t theater.

Some theater offerings moved online.  But a lot of it was archival replays or one-shot events - not exactly reviewing material either.

There was a fully online Minnesota Fringe Festival in 2020, and a largely online one in 2021.  I did a lot of reviews for the former, less for the latter (explanation below)

However, more recently there’s been some runs of both online and offline live, in-person theater; and now live theater seems determined to come back, pandemic be damned.

When the pandemic started I was laid off and later fired from my part-time, second job at the Guthrie Theater box office because, well, the Guthrie Theater was in mothballs for a year so… ninety percent of the staff got let go in all departments while a skeleton crew to maintain the building and the overall structure of the organization remained in place, mostly working remotely.  So I lost about a third of my income for over a year.

My full-time job, thankfully, remained active and was done remotely from my living for the last two years.  A much delayed return to office plan - pushed from August 2021 to October to January to March 2022 - seems to finally be on the verge of being executed, but it will still be a hybrid model, with everyone in the office on the same day of the week once a week, and then the individual departments deciding on another one to two days a week to be in as well. The rest of the time can be work from home.  (We have people with pre-existing conditions that make them vulnerable, and families with small children who as yet cannot be vaccinated, so we’re trying to take all that into account).

In the middle of July 2021, the Guthrie box office called to see if I’d be willing to come in and do some temp work for them processing season ticket subscription orders because - pandemic be damned - they had planned a season and subscribers were also determined to attend some live theater after being cooped up for two years.  Now, the Guthrie has a lot of board members from major businesses and they all have access to handy prognosticating models weighing benefits vs. risks so the Guthrie wasn’t just blindly jumping in.  They were feeling pretty confident that things (pre-Delta, pre-Omicron) were slowly coming around.  A fall return with special events followed by a shortened season of five shows starting January 2022 seemed like as good a guess as anyone could make.  Someone had to process all the ticket orders, hence the call for temp workers from the previous workforce.  This was going to be a week of work, then stretched over two weeks, and finally it ended up morphing into a full month of work, overlapping with the Minnesota Fringe Festival - at the same time that my one steady job was executing and/or canceling large events and I couldn’t really take full days of work off there either.  So my capacity for Fringe Festival review coverage got hacked down to little more than running Twitter commentary during the few hours I was able to squeeze in some shows around work.

The Guthrie then decided to staff up for real, so I interviewed for my old job and got it back.  We have, however, been shorthanded for the entirety of the fall and winter.  Hiring almost from scratch and training takes time.  One consequence of that is, rather than being able to schedule us a full month in advance like they used to so we have a chance to plan our lives, they’ve only been able to manage to schedule what staff we have week to week.  Which doesn’t allow for a lot of flexibility.  And given that my finances are still recovering from the pandemic, I’ve made myself a lot more available for hours in the box office (and thus away from other theater) than I have in the past.

(So I’ve managed to miss a lot of the online theater because, two jobs again, less time…)

Also, I think live, in-person theater right now is a really bad idea.

So, why are you at the Guthrie?  I need the paycheck.

Also, the Guthrie has the resources to have an in-house medical person on staff to advise them and do testing on the rest of the staff as needed.  All employees have to be fully vaxxed, and they encourage booster shots as well.  Everyone’s been siloed to their departments, there’s very little social crossover.  We wear masks for our entire shift.  Visitors to the building wear masks, including when they’re in the theater watching shows.  No one gets into plays anymore without providing proof of vaccination.  The restaurants and bars in the building didn’t survive the pandemic, it’ll be a while until there’s a new partner, so no food and drink service tempting people to remove masks.  Everyone in rehearsal is tested daily and everyone in the cast and production staff of each play gets a more thorough test once a week, just for extra safety.

And the audiences for the first two offerings - What The Constitution Means To Me, and A Christmas Carol - were SO HAPPY to be back in a theater again, out with family and friends, that they didn’t care about the masks and the ID and the vaccine cards.  Whatever they had to do, they were willing to do it.  (Were there exceptions, were their a**holes?  Sure.  But they were the teeny tiny minority.)

So I went from my pandemic bubble being me working from home and occasionally going out for groceries to me, everyone who comes to the Guthrie, and everyone they know.

This can make me feel like I’m more of a potential risk to others than they might be to me, after leaving my very populated work at the Guthrie for the day.

I spent my second Christmas without seeing my brother back east.  I haven’t visited my goddaughter and her family in a few years now.  I still haven’t been able to visit my mother’s grave since her headstone went in, January 2020.  My brother and his dog have seen it and sent pictures.

When I would review shows in the past, or work shows at the Guthrie, I would often get an extra comp ticket and invite a friend to come along with me, to see the show and talk about it after.

Now it feels like I’m asking, “Hey, you wanna risk your life and come see some theater with me?”

So reviewing shows feels like telling other people, “Everything’s fine!  Go see a show.  Sure, you’re kinda risking your life and the safety of others to do it but YOLO!”

I’m still really not sure live, in-person theater is a good idea.

I understand the instinct, both to create theater and to attend theater performances, believe me.

I’m a playwright.  I miss rehearsal rooms.  My writing group has been relegated to Jitsi for two years now.  Some people don’t come right now because they just can’t stand one more Zoom meeting outside of work hours, and I get that.

I’m trying to help launch a new queer theater company devoted to new plays (Threshold Theater, check ‘em out).  We’ve been doing an online series of play readings on our YouTube channel but are shifting in March to try having our first one live and in-person.  (The venue, of course, requires proof of vaccination and masks, so… that’s something.)

And yes, between the work for Guthrie and Threshold, the cognitive dissonance in my head is deafening.

When the pandemic started, a medical professional offered a useful benchmark for me to evaluate risk.  Back when we still didn’t have vaccines yet, and leaving the house was always a risk, this person said, “I’ve taped a picture of a nurse to my front door.  So every time I’m considering leaving the house, I look at the picture and ask myself, ‘is what I want to leave the house and do worth risking this other person’s life?’  If the answer’s no, I sit back down.”

Because it’s not just me, it’s not just the people I come into contact with, it’s the doctors and nurses and other hospital staff that have to deal, and have been dealing for over two years now, with being completely overwhelmed in terms of the capacity of their hospitals.  They’re exhausted, they’re burnt out, some of them quit, some of them died, some of them killed themselves because they couldn’t take the parade of horrors anymore.

And people who need regular hospital care can’t get it because the hospitals are full of COVID-19 patients instead.

The rolling seven day average of daily deaths right now is over 2,300.  That’s the average.  Sometimes it’s less but sometimes it’s a lot more (February 8th, over 3,4000 reported dead that day).

My mom died quite unexpectedly of a brain tumor in July 2019.  My dad died peacefully, of old age, in October 2019.  Thankfully pre-COVID, so we got to regularly visit each of them in the nursing home before they died, and we got to have a funeral for each of them after they died.  They were not isolated and alone, we were not isolated and alone.

So I don’t feel lucky.  I don’t feel like death can’t touch me and the people I care about.

My brother and I, the last remaining members of our immediate nuclear family, text one another every day and end each text with a smiley face emoji wearing a face mask and the words “Stay safe and be well, brother.” Because neither one of us can take the thought of the other one getting sick and dying right now.  We’re still recovering from the last two family deaths (and there have been more losses in the extended family since then).

American society’s blithe acceptance of the deaths of over 2,000 people every single day baffles me.  Other people knew and/or cared for every one of those 2,000-plus people.  The sheer volume of grief should have stopped this country in its tracks.  But nope, we just keep plugging away.  Collateral damage.

(Don’t get me started on the people that don’t believe it’s happening or don’t believe in vaccines or think a mask is a horrifying infringement on their freedoms.  I don’t have mental or emotional reserves for those morons anymore - which, as you might imagine, makes dealing with the general public in my customer service role a real acting challenge sometimes.)

And this is where I’m coming from with two years of grief therapy under my belt.  Imagine how much fun I’d be at parties and theater openings without therapy.

I can remember a time not long ago in discussions about theater, I would say “I’m really looking forward to the deaths getting down below a thousand a day.  Then maybe I can consider theater a worthwhile risk.”  And now instead it’s more than twice that number.  Honestly, I want it below a hundred a day.  I’d love it less than a dozen a day.  There were times at the beginning of the pandemic when those were the numbers.  Ancient history.  The deaths are coming down, week over week, a few hundred at a time.

But it’s still over 2,000 dead people a day, just in this country, forget the wider world where they don’t have ready access to vaccines yet.

There’s a voice regularly screaming in my head that theater right now is reckless and selfish and stupid, like a luxury we can ill afford.

And again, I get it.  Believe me.  What’s quality of life without art?

I love creating theater.  I love seeing theater.  I love talking and writing about theater.  I say all of the above and below with no joy in my heart.

Gathering groups of people indoors right now is a bad idea.

Encouraging people to gather indoors is a bad idea.

So yeah, I’ve had a hard time justifying seeing theater.  And I’ve had a hard time justifying reviewing theater and thus encouraging others to go gather indoors with friends and strangers.

That said, I did see a show on Friday.

And I’m gonna write about it.

And I didn’t want their review to get crushed under the weight of all this.  So I put it in a separate blog post instead.

Why this show and not any one of a dozen other shows I’ve been invited to in recent months?

Part of it is timing - I just happened to get the ask in a time frame where I could manage to carve out an evening off to do it from the schedule of the second job.  (The omicron variant breaking out among cast and crew caused the Guthrie to postpone the run of A Raisin In The Sun until later this spring, so we’ve had an unexpectedly long dark period since they had to also cancel the last three performances of A Christmas Carol back at the end of December, also due to the omicron variant breaking out among cast and crew.  They’re still doing trainings on weeknights and there’s also weekend hours in the box office, so my schedule hasn’t been totally free, for which my bank account balance is thankful.)

Part of it is the people involved.  Friends whose work I admire (though I feel that way about countless theater companies and artists in this town).

Part of it is that it’s a new play showcase put on by a small theater company.

Proof of vaccination and mask required.

Large venue, with smaller, easily socially distanced audience size.  (This may be the one period of live theater history in which we’re not upset to see fewer people in the audience, rather than preferring to pack them in shoulder to shoulder.)

So that’s my explanation and apology about the silence of this theater reviewing blog over the past two years.

Others have been more active - doing theater, seeing theater, and reviewing theater - and God bless them.  

These are the reasons I was not.

Not all of them rational.

Not all of them I’m happy about.

But it’s where I am right now as we start to try peeking out on the other side of all this.

Stay safe and be well, folks.