Wednesday, October 31, 2018

Just the Right Kind of Weird: Theatre Elision's Ghost Quartet

Fledgling artists take note: Theatre Elision's zany theatrics and guerrilla social media strategy is changing the game in #tctheater

Photo from Theatre Elision's website

How do you write a review about a show described like this: 

“Ghost Quartet” is a song cycle about love, death and whiskey from Dave Malloy, the Tony-nominated creator of the Broadway hit “Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812.”  A camera breaks and four friends drink in an interwoven tale spanning seven centuries, with a murderous sister, a treehouse astronomer, a bear, a subway, and the ghost of Thelonious Monk.  The story draws from several fairy tales and "ghost stories", including Snow White and Rose Red, Edgar Allen Poe's Fall of the House of Usher, and One Thousand and One Nights (commonly known as Arabian Nights). There may also be some Princess Zelda references you might recognize. Cast members present the story and music as a "concept album" and accompany themselves on keyboard, violin, ukulele, guitar, mandolin, and percussion.  The audience may also be called upon for additional percussion and whiskey drinking.  

There's literally no way to sum it up! There's literally no way it should work! Who even comes up with such a thing? 

Turns out it's all Theatre Elision, and yes it works (swimmingly, in fact), and you'll leave this taut 90-minute performance happy but not entirely sure why. This fledgling theater company came banging straight out the gate for their first season last year and show no signs of slowing down. I'm so excited to see what they have up their sleeves for future productions, and I'm grateful that they are filling a niche we didn't even know we needed. There's no better time to check out their work than to see Ghost Quartet, showing at the North Garden Theater in St. Paul through November 3, and a perfectly strange way to celebrate Halloween this week. 

I honestly can't improve on the summation they have above - Ghost Quartet is truly that unique and plotless, there just really isn't an easy narrative to describe it with - so instead, check out this ordered steam of consciousness list of related sounds / images / etc. that I wrote as they performed that the various songs reminded me of: 
  • Andrew Lloyd Webber's Phantom of the Opera
  • Pirates of Penzance / anything George Bernard Shaw
  • Witchy / gypsy vibes a la Stevie Nicks
  • Moulin Rouge?? 
  • Prairie Home Companion (but only episodes without Garrison Keillor)
  • Aladdin's "Arabian Nights"
  • Baz Luhrmann-esque spectacle
  • Sweeney Todd / Stephen Sondheim-meets-Tim Burton realness
  • Robert Plant / Alison Krauss's masterful duet album Raising Sand
  • Medieval madrigals
  • Social media guru Gary Vaynerchuck's strategy moniker, aka take your audience on a journey with you (this relates to the fact that the musicians engage the audience in playing various percussion instruments along with them on more than one song)
  • Swedish sister duo First Aid Kit 
  • Julie Taymore's Across the Universe
  • Prince-meets-the B-52's "Rock Lobster" style
  • Rufus Wainwright
  • Chris Thile in the Nickel Creek days

I mean it when I say that the above is the best conglomeration I can think of to describe this weirdly witchy and atonal show. Ghost Quartet defies description but ends up being so much more than the sum of its parts. I'm not really a spooky / Halloween-y person, but something about this was just mystical enough that it worked for me. It helps that these musicians are just so damn talented - Kellen McMillen, Quinn Shadko, Tristen Sima and Christine Wade are shockingly good performers, and without their expert musicianship there's no way this could work. Shadko in particular is a vocal marvel. I've seen her in a few other things before, but never realized what incredible vocal dexterity she has - her ghostly vocals on "The Photograph" are truly next-level, and her articulate versatility overall reminded me of a velvety Bernadette Peters. 


Theatre Elision produces taught, simple, eclectic pieces that always surprise me in how much I enjoy them. Their musical excellence is bar none, and it's fun to watch music nerds like the ones I grew up with have such a good time doing exactly what they clearly love (and were born) to do. The only drawback is their shows have pretty limited runs, so you'll have to work quickly to snag tickets. Ghost Quartet only runs through November 3, so make sure to click here to learn more and get in line before they are all snatched up - word on the street is their presale this year already outsold all of last year's run, and they've sold out at least one performance already. And make sure to tune in to Theatre Elision's bustling social media channels - they're on top of the online strategy game and there are lots of things we all can learn from their effective hustling. 

Monday, October 29, 2018

Reliving the Past with The Laramie Project

Here's to hoping history stops repeating itself. 


Photo by Shannon TL Kearns

It's always amazing to me how imperfectly progress on social issues is made. Causes will fight for decades on an issue with little to no improvement - or maybe even sustain severe setbacks - only to jolt society light-years into the future with a single strategic win in the courts or passing of a radical piece of legislation.

The slow pace of moving towards a better world is important to remember in times like these, when so many of us feel like we are slipping further and further into the dark ages. It's not uncommon for things to get worse before they get better, and a great way to remind ourselves of that is to pay tribute to the epochal moments that catapulted us forward in the first place.

To make an imperfect parallel as an example of such a moment: if the Stonewall riots were the LGBTQIA movement's iteration of Martin Luther King Jr.'s march to Selma (thanks to Marsha Johnson - whose name we all should remember vividly), the murder of Matthew Shepard might have been its Emmett Till. The persecution of LGBTQIA people has always been a part of our history - nothing proved that like the lack of urgency surrounding treatment and research for AIDS victims - so there isn't really a visible reason that Shepard's death should have resonated so widely. Yet, often it takes the mundanity of violence to finally reveal just how awful human nature is and how strongly it must be corrected. Reports of Shepard's last hours of suffering after a brutal beating, documented after a biker found Shepard zip tied to a fence and fatally abused, shocked and horrified the nation and marked the beginning of a shift in attitudes that culminated in passing civil rights protections based on gender and sexual identity, legalizing same sex marriage, and an ongoing national feud over protections for transgender people across the whole political spectrum.

The thing that fascinates me most about this is: why Shepard? Why do we care so much about him, specifically? Why not one of the other many thousands of LGBTQIA folks who have been hounded, killed, or assaulted over decades? I'm not sure anyone can ever develop a clear answer for this. The Laramie Project, part one of The Laramie Cycle and now under performance from Uprising Theatre Company, is probably the best attempt to frame Shepard's death in a way we can understand. It's a clear-eyed look at the tragedy through a collection of journal entries, interviews, and observations made by a theatrical team shortly after Shepard's death caught national attention in 1998. It's a fascinating show that reminds me a little of Season 1 True Detective, a foray into the world of #truecrime that gives us a far more nuanced view of middle America and the issue of violence against LGBTQIA people than we often hear elsewhere in the media. There isn't really a star or even a main character; instead, by collecting a wide range of perspectives about who Matthew Shepard was and what was so different about Laramie, Wyoming (the city in which he was killed), we get a telescopic point of view that might illuminate just why we can never take current freedoms for granted.

One of the things I like about Uprising Theatre Company is they always include a fresh face on stage. This is truly an ensemble cast, and they weave through the various narratives swiftly and delicately. There are several brand new actors to #tctheater performing here - Bruce Manning, Juliette Aaslestad, and Michael Novak all do a great job. Directors Sarah Catcher and Ashley Hovell expertly blend these fresh faces with more experienced performers like Tia Tanzer, Jessica Thompson Passaro, Seth Matz and Baku Campbell. The result is a cast with a wide representation, mimicking Laramie's surprising diversity and keeping each transition between monologues fresh. I really enjoyed these performers, who approach this difficult subject with finesse and a total lack of artifice that gives it a heightened emotional impact.

This impact is facilitated by the nearly nonexistent production design, which is essentially a collection of black boxes, a screen, and a few strategically chose small props. Combined with the simple lighting design from Jake Otto; intermittent projection design from Daniel Mauleon; and basic costume pieces that are easily changed between characters right on stage, it allows us to pay attention to the developing narrative and strips away anything that might distract from the purpose of The Laramie Project: Matthew Shepard's life and legacy in changing hearts and minds.

There couldn't be a better time to pull this show off; after all, this year marks the 20th anniversary of Shepard's death (almost to the day), and it feels like we receive daily stories of rights and protections, so recently won and so hard fought for, being stripped away with ease. It's easy to take for granted that the rights claimed by previous generations are an immutable certainty, but the fact is that we are always at risk of sliding backwards. Without intentional, consistent advocacy to continue to push our boundaries further we will never achieve the fair world that Matthew Shepard (and so many others like him) truly deserved. Learning about the people of Laramie, Wyoming and Shepard's life is one of the best ways I can think of to understand where we need to go to change hearts and minds and protect our LGBTQIA family. I enjoyed viewing this important piece of work, and I can think of no better tribute to Matthew Shepard than to stop by Plymouth Congregational Church to see this show (or its followup partner, The Laramie Project: 10 Years Later - you can see both as part of the full Laramie Cycle) before it closes on November 17. For more information or to buy tickets, click here.

And don't forget: if you want to know what you can do to protect rights already hard-won, it's pretty simple to start: Make sure you vote on November 6. Learn more about where and how by clicking here. 

Tuesday, October 23, 2018

MUST SEE: Children's Theatre Company's I Come From Arizona

If I could take a billboard out to make the world a better place, it would say something like: stop underestimating children. 


Photo by Dan Norman

I think we have a tendency to think that just because kids are small sized humans and have limited vocabularies that somehow they're not capable of comprehending the world around them. Therefore, we tend to not explain things, or to oversimplify them, and instead leave kids to make their own assumptions about what is happening. I think that is a patently bad idea.

One of the greatest tragedies of our current political chaos is that it's leaving children in a messy, unexplained space. They may not have the context to understand the nuance of what is happening, but they certainly know the basics - and it's not good for them. Schoolkids hear overhear television news, their parents talking, radio news, newspaper headlines, photographs, and all sorts of gossip from other kids at school; thousands of other children are literally stuck in political crosshairs - such as those who are still in detention centers, indefinitely left without their parents - and are even worse off. It's a mess.

Photo by Dan Norman

This is why I think the Children's Theatre Company's world premiere show I Come From Arizona is so incredibly brave, necessary, and another must see in the #tctheater community. Who is better poised to help provide children with context about the border crisis than those whose entire mission is literally to create "extraordinary theatre experiences that educate, challenge, and inspire young people and their communities"? It's the boldest show I've seen from this company yet, beautifully executed, and full of important subtext that isn't dumbed down but is still accessible to children. It provides kids with a framework to understand the issue of immigration and what it means to them, while still leaving the space to form their own perspectives.

Photo by Dan Norman

I Come From Arizona tells the story of a girl named Gabi as she learns about her family's legal status. Gabi is beginning school at the best public high school in Chicago just as her father leaves to visit his own father, who is dying. Gabi has always been told that her family is from Arizona, but she gets suspicious due to the mysterious circumstances of the trip her father takes. Thanks to a school assignment about family heritage in her global studies class, Gabi is forced to engage her mother about their past, ultimately revealing that rather than being American citizens as she has always assumed, Gabi's parents are undocumented. As she and her younger brother continue to hear reports about ICE raids - on the news and from friends whose parents are taken - the immigration crisis becomes terrifying and immediate. Gabi has to come to terms with her family's identity in a legal, safety, and emotional sense, and the show ends as her father attempts another border crossing to get back home to his children. It's a powerful, visceral ending that will linger with you long after the curtain closes.

Photo by Dan Norman

One of the elements I loved so much about I Come From Arizona is that it is unabashedly bilingual, effortlessly slipping between Spanish and English. It doesn't require you to have a knowledge of Spanish to understand, and I find it a testament to this great cast that they can move with such ease between both languages. Ayssette Muñoz is terrific as Gabi, guiding the story with a confident touch and a deep emotional range. She pulls you in with magnetic gravity, and I really enjoyed her performance. Luca La Hoz Calassara was impressive as Gabi's younger brother Jesús, channeling the mature subject matter with a skill far beyond his age. Nora Montañez was striking as Gabi's mother, especially with her beautiful monologue about the journey from Mexcio to the U.S. Shá Cage is terrific as Gabi's teacher Ms. Chan; her character's assignments are the driving force of so much of the plot, and Cage guides the audience through difficult conversations with empathy and finesse. The ensemble cast is full of similarly bright cameos, each with something to teach us and a smile to share.

Photo by Dan Norman

I also really enjoyed this production design, beginning with a spectacular mural. It anchors Yu Shibagaki's scenic design and provides a stunning focal point when paired with the evocative lighting design from Paul Whitaker. Trevor Bowen's costume design is straightforward and clever, and provides a full picture when compared with Victor Zupanc's sound design. We are fully enmeshed in Gabi's world from the very outset of the show; we feel her fear from her apartment as she babysits her brother, her anxiety traveling through the halls of a new school, her shyness as she boards a cross-Chicago city bus, all thanks to this great team. Congrats to the vision of director Lisa Portes, who packs a fully realized universe in less than two hours; I Come From Arizona is easily the best thing I've ever seen on stage about the issue of immigration, and thanks to Portes we are all able to join the conversation.

Photo by Dan Norman

I've always wondered if the immigration crisis continues because people can't visualize or personalize the issue, and I Come From Arizona places you squarely in the shoes of the people most affected. It forces you to look with both eyes wide open and ask: Are children really better off without their parents? Do we really want to deport American citizens to countries they've never known? Are parents really so evil for wanting to provide safer places for their children to live? Don't these kids deserve a fair opportunity at education and a prosperous life - the deified American dream - just as much as a child who was lucky enough to be born here to legacy American citizens? Are we really so stuck on technicalities that we can't see and value humans for being just what they are - other people with hopes and dreams, just like we have?

Photo by Dan Norman

I Come From Arizona will confront you with these questions and force you to witness the human toll of our current policies. It articulates what so many children are enduring right now and provides context for kids who are overhearing conversations about this issue. Although intended for kids age 8 and up, I think adults may be the people who need this show even more. As always, Children's Theatre Company does a beautiful job with their program, providing exercises to talk about the issue and engage further with the subject of immigration once you head home. I Come From Arizona is an honest portrayal of a complicated problem, which manages to tell the truth without taking obvious sides (there are characters in this show on both sides of the spectrum). It's a great piece of writing, an incredibly moving story, and one that can't help but compel you to action once you've seen it. I highly recommend this for grownups and children alike - please make sure to go before it closes on November 25. For more information and to buy tickets, click on this link; and if you want to help the families trapped literally between borders, please consider a donation to Raices by clicking here.

Saturday, October 13, 2018

50 Years of Chanhassen Dinner Theatre + Holiday Inn

CDT is the theatrical equivalent of a giant, comforting, cozy bowl of steaming mac and cheese, and I'm totally fine with that. 


Photo by Tom Wallace, 2018

Sometimes I see people take aim at things that are mainstream or inherently positive as if they are somehow unworthy of attention. This frustrates me.

Photo by Tom Wallace, 2018

I love avant garde theater - but I also love the mass produced, flashy shows that fill giant theaters, keep plots simple and spirit fingers wiggling. Growing up in rural small town Minnesota, places like the Orpheum or Chanhassen Dinner Theatre (CDT) were the only way I ever saw professional theater. Sure we had school and community productions, but professional spaces were a solid 360 mile round trip away, not to mention often way outside of the budget of our six person family. If we were really lucky, once a year my family got to go to CDT over the summer when they held the family ticket sale. It was so magical for me, a truly transportive experience that taught me to dream beyond my immediate reality and made a direct line to me starting this blog so I can continue to experience this art I have come to love so deeply. Those experiences at CDT are treasured memories and a big reason that I will always harbor an undying love for that space.

Photo by Tom Wallace, 2018

The thing about mass produced shows shows is that there are people (a lot of people, actually) for whom it is the only way they will access theater at all. They deserve to enjoy the arts too, and if a traveling Broadway show or a musical theater bonanza with a plated dinner is what gets them there - I'm all for it. There are hundreds of union employees who make great money year round working on these productions, and I'm happy to support them (just as I love local companies like Prime Productions or Frank Theatre or Trademark Theater, all of whom have shows running right now).

Photo by Tom Wallace, 2018

The point of all of this is that this year, CDT is celebrating 50 years of existence. For just a little context on how mind blowing this accomplishment is, check this out: since Chanhassen Dinner Theatres opened in 1968, its kitchen has served:

  1. 25 million fresh baked rolls
  2. 2,265,000 grilled to perfection, sirloin steaks
  3. 400,000 pounds of roasted prime rib of beef
  4. 4,250,000 stuffed chicken breasts
  5. 500,000 pints of fresh strawberries
  6. Just shy of 50,000,000 cups of coffee or enough to fill more than FIVE Olympic-sized swimming pools
  7. Chanhassen Dinner Theatres is the nation’s largest professional dinner theatre company. It is one of a handful of professional status dinner theatres still in existence.
  8. In its 50 years, Chanhassen Dinner Theatres has entertained just over 12.5 million guests.
  9. In addition, over that time, CDT has staged a total of 237 productions on its multiple stages.

I'm so grateful that CDT has stuck around this long, weathering recessions, public taste and ownership crises, and I sure hope they stick around for another 50 years. I can't think of a better show to celebrate this milestone than Irving Berlin's Holiday Inn, which opened last night. I loved the film version growing up, which starred Bing Crosby and Fred Astaire, and was the first time audiences heard the now-classic song White Christmas. Holiday Inn is exactly what it sounds like: a musical about a man who leaves show business to run a farm in rural Connecticut. When he proves to be a failure at farming, Jim decides to flip the space into a lodge with musical performances that is only open on holidays (when everything else is closed). There are several straightforward romantic plots woven through the holiday numbers, and everyone leaves with a happy ending. It's a show that oozes nostalgia, and while its plot is a little dated, the rotation of greatest hits songs like Blue Skies, Heat Wave, Cheek to Cheek and, of course, White Christmas provides a delightful immersion in 1940s nostalgia.

Photo by Tom Wallace, 2018

Many of CDT's OG company members are in this show, so you're guaranteed to see many familiar faces. Michael Gruber plays Jim, and while he doesn't quite have Bing Crosby's velvety basso, he does have an endless aura of charm and panache that perfectly fits the 1940s setting. Ann Michels is period-perfect as Jim's love interest Linda; her voice soars through the show, and it's not hard to imagine her having a Ginger Rogers or Andrews Sisters moment if she'd been performing back then. Jessica Fredrickson plays Lila as a true Lina Lamont character, clearly reveling in playing the villainous love interest. And Tony Vierling brings his best Gene Kelly to the role Fred Astaire originated as Ted; it's one of the best things I've seen Vierling do, probably since Singin' in the Rain. Vierling is a true blue, classic Hollywood musical hoofer, and director Michael Brindisi wisely grants him several solo moments to glide across the stage and give the audience a few showstopping dance moves. The company itself is also very strong, especially in dance, and there are plenty of charming cameos you'll see throughout the show.

Photo by Tom Wallace, 2018

The thing that kept striking me throughout the performance was the attention to detail at every level. There's not a lot of whodunnit to this plot - you'll see all the major points coming - so the charm of the show lies in all of the other little things to see. The set, designed by Nayna Ramey, is the kind of shabby chic rural dream that will have any cabin lover swooning. Tamara Kangas Erickson's choreography is truly masterful, incorporating tiny touches like collective gasps with some spectacular dance scenes (a tap sequence done with jump ropes was especially fantastic) to make it clear that every moment of the show was considered. The band, directed by Andy Kust, has a big brass Count Basie feel, and Russ Haynes' sound design lets us hear everyone's lines just fine. My favorite element, however, had to be the gorgeous hair and makeup design by Paul Bigot and the delicious costumes from Rich Hamson. If you've ever drooled over a chest-width corsage or a perfectly pinned pageboy, you will not be able to stop swooning over these visuals. It's cotton candy for the eyes and even if you don't like the show, you'll find something to like about the gorgeous garb.

Photo by Tom Wallace, 2018

Is Holiday Inn the best show I've ever seen at CDT? No. But it's a perfect choice for their 50th anniversary and to cover the holiday season. Comforting, nostalgic, and flashy enough to engage anyone's interest, Holiday Inn will be a welcome surprise for fans of old Hollywood musicals who haven't seen it, and a refreshing classic for those who have loved the movie for years. I am so glad I got the chance to see it and celebrate CDT's 50th anniversary; cheers to them on 50 more. For more information or to buy tickets, click on this link.

Photo by Tom Wallace, 2018

Friday, September 28, 2018

Is God Is is Literally Killer

CW: This show (and review) discusses violence, assault, sexual assault and abuse. 


Photo by Rich Ryan

Walking out of Mixed Blood Theatre last night, all I could say was HOT DAMN.

For anyone living under a rock, yesterday Dr. Christine Blasely Ford testified in front of the Senate Judiciary Committee about a past alleged assault from the next Supreme Court nominee, Brett Kavanaugh. It was a stirring, brave, emotional testimony that has rocked the country. Women were seen weeping on public transit, in lunch rooms, and all sorts of other public places; most of those who weren't in tears (like me) were consumed with a passionate rage. Suffice it to say: yesterday was a very, very rough day for a lot of us.

Photo by Rich Ryan

So the headspace I was in when I entered Mixed Blood Theatre to see Is God Is was not exactly a peaceful one. I'd heard a lot of vague but intriguing things about the show - it's horrific but funny? - and wasn't sure what I was in for. By the end, I knew what it was. In a word? Mayhem. I was in for mayhem.

Photo by Rich Ryan

I am trying to tread cautiously about describing Is God Is because the plot twists are so important to the story. I don't want to give it away and ruin all the fun of seeing the show yourself (which you definitely should do). The most succinct description I can give is this: imagine if Kill Bill was written by a black woman, starred only black people, and had a little bit of Breaking Bad's Saul Goodman character thrown in for good measure. It's a quirky, singular experience that has all sorts of campy American film hallmarks - road trips, sister journeys, broken families, vengeance, bloodshed - in a darkly funny (think like, Coen Brothers funny, not ha ha funny) package. It manages at the same time to also discuss some deeply serious issues, many of which are all too common in the #metoo movement we're striding through.

Photo by Rich Ryan

Like watching a Tarantino film or reading a Victorian novel, it took me a solid 15 minutes to adjust to what I was seeing. When I say this show is singular, I mean it: the language, the quirks of the performances, the stark visuals, and more all combine to be totally unlike anything else I've seen on stage. I'm not usually great with violent content, but something about the explicitly performative violence of Is God Is worked for me and kept me intrigued. Maybe it was that unfettered rage after the Kavanaugh hearing; maybe it was the slow burn of #metoo stories that have been building up for the last year; maybe it was just the lived experience of being a woman in a world that seems to struggle to respect my humanity. I really don't know, but what I can say is: something about Is God Is is extraordinarily satisfying to watch. These characters do bad things, and their outcomes aren't good - but they do them for understandable reasons, and something about watching a pair of black women physically beat out their latent anger was wholly satisfying, especially last night.

Photo by Rich Ryan

These are some heavy hitters on stage, and without them this show would be much harder to watch. Dame-Jasmine Hughes and Chaz Hodges star as the twin sisters Racine and Anaia, respectively. Is God Is is their journey, and Hughes and Hodges nail the complicated script through nuanced performances. Hughes is terrific as always, with an explosively physical performance that is honestly a little terrifying. Hodges has a slow burn into her role, and you really won't see the end coming behind her meek persona. Joy Dolo is utterly unrecognizable as She. I have to leave it at that, but her performance is chilling. Kevin West brings a Saul Goodman vibe as the crooked lawyer Chuck Hall; his imitation of drunkenness is masterful, and I found him one of the funnier performers. Jacob Gibson and Kory Pullam are well paired as brothers Scotch and Riley, respectively. Gibson is new to me and I'm excited to learn more about him; Pullam is surprising, comedic and even a little charming as the nerdy Riley. Jessica Rosilyn is awesome as Angie, with a Reese Witherspoon quality that I really enjoyed; she'd be right at home on Big Little Lies. And Kirkaldy Myers is the one I didn't see coming (literally) as Man, with a sinister entrance that will blow your hair back (I couldn't help it and audibly exclaimed).

Photo by Rich Ryan

The set design looks at first glance like a sheer white wall and projections, but is used ingeniously throughout the show to reveal many layers of setting. Christopher Heilman got so creative with his design, and I keep running it over in my mind and finding new things to enjoy about it. Trevor Bowen gives every performer a distinctive personality through his costume design that will clue you in to their meaning. Mixed Blood always has great effects in their shows, which continues to be true here through the absolutely striking tech direction from Bethany Reinfeld; lighting design by Mary Shabatura; sound design by Phillip O'Toole; and fight choreography and effects by Bruce Young. Finally, Tessie Bundick's makeup design is intrinsic to the story (which you'll learn more about when you go). I wish we got a chance to see the detail closer up.

Photo by Rich Ryan

Is God Is is such an unparalleled experience, and it couldn't be better timed. Between the ongoing #metoo and #timesup movements and the arrival of Halloween season, it hits all sorts of sweet spots between horror, vengeance, women-centric and escapist stories. This is not the kind of show I'm in the habit of watching or recommending, but I gotta say: Is God Is swept me up with its manic energy and gave me a lot more to chew on than I ever expected. It's a wild experience to have live in the theater, and the incredible cast really pushes this performance over the edge. I recommend this very highly, especially to anyone who is feeling the need to vent some rage over recent political events. Please keep in mind, however: this is very definitely NOT a show for children. Make this one an adults-only date night. Is God Is runs at the Mixed Blood through October 14. For more information or to find your tickets, click on this link.

Photo by Rich Ryan

Tuesday, September 25, 2018

Some Thoughts on the Inaugural MN Theater Awards

Does an awards show even need actual awards? 



Last night marked the first ever MN Theater Awards, aka The Little Show That Could that took over after the Ivey Awards folded abruptly last year. Many people in the #tctheater community were disappointed by the loss of an event to recognize the excellent work done here every year. Thankfully, Four Humors stepped in to fill the void and reinvent the awards show to make it less difficult (and expensive) to sustain. The approach seemed to be "what would an awards show look like if none had existed before?" I fully support this kind of exercise, and there were lots of changes from previous Ivey Awards ceremonies. Check out the awesome list of nominees here:


Because this year had such an unusual set of circumstances (the Iveys disappearing, a late scramble to put something together), it doesn't feel right to do a full retrospective as I normally would have for the Iveys. Instead, I wanted to jot down some thoughts about the event and things to think about while planning next year's ceremony. I want to preface all of these comments with a huge thank you to Four Humors for creating and hosting the show. Events this large are never easy to plan in the best of circumstances, and they took the project on with no budget and little time to plan. The fact that they pulled off such a respectable event really deserves credit - so many thanks to them for assuming the responsibility of putting this on!

Things I Loved 


  • The casual atmosphere. Removing the awards from a gilt theater and expanding the dress code allowed for a welcome breath of fresh air in the general attitude of the attendees. Don't get me wrong - tons of people still got dressed to the nines and the people watching was on point - but just allowing people to move around freely, grab drinks during the show, etc. made it feel so much more inclusive and fun to be there. 
  • Inclusion was the theme. The committee behind MN Theater Awards re-opened nominations less than a month before the ceremony because they felt the submissions they'd received were not reflective enough of our diverse theater community. BRAVO to that. There was much wider attendance and a much larger pool of nominees last night than I'd expected for a first attempt at this process, and that is largely due to the committee's insistence that they get the nomination process right. I'm sure they will refine this further next year but: I'm so grateful they pushed for inclusivity, and their efforts really showed. 
  • Women were front and center. There were a ton of women represented in all of the categories, and I think the collective impact of having theater practitioners nominate each other had a lot to do with it. The most impressive part of this? Of the six people nominated for best individual performance, five were women and several were women of color. It was really great to see so many women taking center stage and getting recognized for their often-overlooked efforts. 
  • More celebration for under-recognized contributions. There were a few awards that flipped the typical categories on their head, and they were thoughtful additions to the usual categories of best performance or actor. A few that come to mind immediately: a specific recognition for stage mangers, who are notoriously overlooked when it comes to the hard work of putting on a show; a category for performative direction that included nominees for skills like dance choreography, fight choreography, conducting or projection design; and a long overdue award celebrating companies focusing on accessibility, which encourages all theaters to do a better job of serving diverse communities. 
  • Awesome graphics! Whoever did the video clips celebrating each nominee did a masterful job, to the point that even still photos appeared almost animated. It was totally riveting and I would love to know how they did it. Definitely keep that up for next year. 
  • No hierarchy in recognition. At first I thought it was odd that there were no individual winners of every category, but it made more sense the more I thought about it. The point of an awards show is to recognize excellence, right? Who says an award needs to go to just one "winner" in order to count? It also removes the pressure of trying to judge between say, a one woman show or a 200 person flagship Ordway musical, which is daunting to say the least. This way a spectrum of excellence and diverse offerings can be equally celebrated, something I can totally get behind. 
  • No speeches. Removing the need for each winner to give a speech definitely helped save time in the overall ceremony, which was truly welcome for anyone attending who had to work the next day. This was a great choice. 

Lessons Learned


  • Get a Grade A sound system. The Aria space is large and hard edged, making it a veritable echo chamber. As much as I enjoyed the casual atmosphere, it did mean that people talked (and rather loudly) throughout the show; by the end of the night, it was literally impossible to hear what anyone was saying on stage. Next year, can a local theater company please donate better speakers / microphones / sound equipment / tech to help improve this? There was such excitement in the room and it was a shame that the nominees weren't able to hear their own names called. If only one thing changes for next year, this would be my pick. 
  • More tables or seating would help organize things. Attendees were warned that seating would be limited, and I think that worked ok for the most part. Considering all drinks were served in real glassware, however, I think it would really have helped to have a few more cocktail tables and seating areas strewn around the basic floor area. This also may have helped with the noise problem if people were broken down into smaller clumps / less likely to move through chatting with each other as the presentations were happening. It doesn't need to have formal seating, but more organization around where people are might be helpful. 
  • Could we get a few short performances? The main thing I missed from the Ivey Awards were the short performances given by nominated companies. It was always so nice to give everyone a chance to see why each show was so special, and it always broke up some of the more tedious events of the night. I'd love to see this come back in some form next year - maybe as a special people's choice award? 
  • No speeches should mean no speeches. Through the second half, there was an odd tribute to the Jeune Lune that took a solid 10+ minutes to get through. Not only did this bog down the momentum of the show, it felt a little odd considering there were dozens of other theater companies represented in attendance. I understand the sentimentality of being in the former Jeune Lune space for the show, but since no other companies were afforded the opportunity to extemporize, it didn't feel right to allow a company that folded 10 years ago to do so. Next year I'd keep that policy consistent for everyone. 
  • Shorter introduction speeches to each award. It felt a little odd to announce that no one would be giving speeches.... and then have very long banter to introduce the nominees. If the process is to be streamlined, I vote to streamline it all the way through. I don't think anyone would miss it - most people are there to clap for the nominees and network anyway.
  • Seek more outstate nominees. By expanding the name of the awards show to all of Minnesota (a smart choice), it would be nice to see more out-state theaters represented in the nominees. Due to this year's abridged time frame I'm sure it was difficult to get word out - but it would be great if the committee could work with the MN Theater Alliance to get more representation from groups outside of the Metro area next year. 


All in all? I think this was a very promising evening. I'm so grateful that Four Humors took it upon themselves to keep the spirit of appreciation for our local arts practitioners going. It was so fun to see everyone networking and celebrating their hard work over the past year, and to help raise the profiles of some deserving people and companies who are often overlooked. The inaugural MN Theater Awards proved that you don't need fancy sets and trophies to have an awards ceremony; all you need is a happy audience, some willing hosts, and a great crew of nominees to celebrate. I hope this event comes back again next year and am sure it will be better than ever. If you want to follow progress of this group and planning efforts, make sure to follow their Facebook page by clicking here.

Monday, September 24, 2018

Finding the Feeling in Frankenstein - Playing With Fire

It seems 2018 is the year of historic anniversaries. 


Photo by Dan Norman

First we had the 150th anniversary of Louisa May Alcott's delightful Little Women. It's the 50th anniversary of the ridiculously eventful 1968, which is featured in a star exhibit at the Minnesota History Center. Park Square Theatre is celebrating 43 years with an exciting exhibit at the Landmark Center. And now it's the 200th anniversary of the publication of Frankenstein. How are we all supposed to keep up?

Photo by Dan Norman

In honor of Frankenstein's publication, the Guthrie has dusted off an original commission from 1988 called Frankenstein - Playing With Fire. It's a highly esoteric adaptation, with half of the show concentrating on a metaphysical conversation between Dr. Frankenstein and his creation, half taking place in flashbacks between the characters' memories of the inception and early life of Frankenstein's monster. It's less an adaptation of the novel and more of a behind-the-scenes, filling in the emotional gaps between the book's flagship events.

Photo by Dan Norman

I'll be honest: this had a really slow start for me. Despite starring a pair of formidable, seasoned actors (Zachary Fine as Dr. Frankenstein and Elijah Alexander as Frankenstein's creature) the meandering conversation that was essentially between Frankenstein and, well, Frankenstein got a little tedious. I want to be clear that I place the blame on the script for this - these two are fine performers who bring a lot of subtlety to their performances, but even they can't make some of the long exchanges engaging. Things picked up considerably once Ryan Colbert appeared as the young Victor Frankenstein in the flashbacks. I've been following Colbert's career for a while now and will confidently say that this is his star-making turn. He steals the show in every scene, flashing through the tedious philosophical arguments with charisma and an expressive face that reminded me of a young Jim Carrey. It's been so fun to watch him grow in his roles on various #tctheater stages, and with Frankenstein he has totally arrived. Jason Rojas brings an Andy Serkis bent to his work as Adam (or "baby Frankenstein"), and his chilling naivete really hits home how lost this monster was once he was created and how totally abandoned by his maker.

Photo by Dan Norman

The scenic design (Michael Locher) and staging (Cat Starmer on lighting; sound design by Cliff Caruthers; and costumes by Raquel Barreto) is likely the biggest draw to the show. A slick piece of black "ice" wends around the Wurtele Thrust Stage, an ominous harbinger of the dark emotion of the Frankenstein story. It's an intriguing piece but unfortunately blocks a little too much of the background for my taste, which lights up with some really interesting pieces to bring the flashbacks to life - I would have liked to have a better view of them. The lighting really sets the emotional tone for the show, alternately bathing the stage in deep hues that reflect the feeling of the action on stage. There are all sots of creepy sound effects that usher us right into Halloween season, and some well chosen props provide a focus for the zany activities (such as say... animating dead bodies?) that we see before us.

Photo by Dan Norman

I think by now we're all clear on how much I love Victorian literature, so I just want to throw in here that it's hard to overstate how important Frankenstein is to the history of books. The novel as we now know it was barely invented by the time an 18 year old Mary Shelley got her hands on it, and it's mind-blowing to think about how such a young woman produced such a big book in an era where most of the population barely read, let alone considered a vision for literature beyond orally told fairy tales and governmental treatises. Frankenstein has such longevity not only because it is an engaging novel - and it really is, a truly thrilling read from start to finish to this day - but because it so elegantly dismantles so many conventions both on and off the page. It invented a genre overnight and managed in less than 300 pages to successfully critique so many powerful assumptions - that the wealthy and educated are somehow morally superior to the rest of us; that science and knowledge are infallible pursuits; that empathy is a waste of time; and that men's ambitions are never to be questioned. It's a captivating story that's riveted audiences now for 200 years, and it is certain that what we think of as literature and movies and television and art itself would not be the same without Frankenstein's existence.

Photo by Dan Norman

I've been struggling to pinpoint what it was about this show that nagged at me, and I think it was the fact that this particular script really dances around the points I just raised. By placing our focus squarely on the sanitized conversation between Frankenstein and his Creature, we ignore their collateral damage. We can get into some important questions of the self - What IS the self? What makes a human human? - but the true effects of Dr. Frankenstein's arrogance are left by the wayside. I suppose that one could argue that Frankenstein himself was the person who most suffered from his creation, but is that really the best we can do? Frankenstein has been such a cultural caricature for so long that we can easily overlook some of the more subtle details of the story that I would argue are more important than the freakshow element. By over-intellectualizing we forget the point of the book - to focus on love and empathy, that intelligence is not a holy grail, that science is indeed fallible, etc.

Photo by Dan Norman

Ultimately, I think this is a mixed bag. The actors really work the most out of their parts, and Ryan Colbert is a bright spot in the show. Although initially jarring, the "time travel" aspect really helps pick up the pace and often provides the most engaging portions of the whole performance. There are some interesting questions asked throughout the show that I think can intrigue fans of the original book. If you come looking for a live action refresh of the horror movies so captivated by the monster aspect of Frankenstein, you might be disappointed. If you have the bandwidth, I think it's worth reading the book, seeing this show and thoroughly reflecting on Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley's masterpiece. Frankenstein runs at the Guthrie through October 27. For more information or to buy tickets, click on this link.

Photo by Dan Norman