Late-week drama that makes you think? For me, it’s always on the agenda. The trap of the crumbling mind is most dangerous around that time, especially in mid-February as the snow blows round in aimless wind. I, too, wander and float in no particular direction. Brain destined to be liquified through stress and its resulting apathy.
Theatre is an excellent way to mitigate such debilitating effects. This week at the Lydia Mendelssohn Theatre, U-M’s Department of Theatre and Drama presents Yerma, the artful, tragic story of a barren woman of rural Spain tormented by her inability to conceive. It’s a journey, it’s a statement about gender roles, it’s a reaction to our reasons for living.
Five years, three months: the longest sentence ever given for leaking classified information to media sources. This is Reality Winner’s punishment for her confessed involvement in the spread of private documents regarding Russian meddling in the 2016 United States presidential election. Given this record, are we not obligated to ask questions? Does this historical event not deserve to be emphasized, elevated to a position of art?
This play is thoughtful, unassuming in its simplicity. Art written in the moment of speaking, the best kind. The liberty they took with the background score was a little heavy for me sometimes, especially when it went on for prolonged periods below speech. We are already invested in the story, so the added dramatic tones were only distracting, kind of like a soap opera.
Still I was struck by how baldly pained actress Emily Davis’ expression was throughout the play, perfecting the panicked mix of emotions Reality Winner must have been feeling at the time. The FBI agents were not heavily dichotomized in tone, which was a relief, but instead reflected flawed humanity rather than stereotype.
But is the act of turning Reality into a play just, or some kind of spectacle-making that preys on her turmoil while wearing the disguise of the artist? Is there enough of an argument against ordinary journalism’s story-driven (and thus not always compassionate) tendencies for the theatre medium to survive? Provocative titles to articles like “Does Reality Winner ‘Hate America?'” seem to provide evidence for one. Other
In making the script a verbatim transcription of the interrogation, do we lose valuable insight into the case? There is zero analysis of the events here, nor is there any real background information beyond online and program literature. The point was, I guess, for the audience to draw their own thoughts together about the case, with only the absolute barest bones with which to work.
The trouble I have with this strategy is that no one in the audience is truly coming in with no background knowledge and/or opinions related to the case. Even those not exposed to media stories about Winner have no doubt heard the countless reports on collusion in the election, forming and borrowing speculations on the truth. Even the baseline action of creating this play is a statement that this story is hers, and deserves telling; that the outcome may not have been a rational one.
I suppose still that in our information age there is no real neutral ground. We are exposed to so much media, tinted with biases coming from every direction, mixing with our own, and coming out the other side a completely unique concoction. It’s easy to become confused with what our beliefs are based on. So a verbatim transcription of an interrogation, regardless of its background tunes, is probably as close to perfect as we’re going to get. Thankfully we see enough value in the honest truth to produce this kind of play, and for it to be so well-received. What a curious thing.
Art often has some connection to politics, but often it’ll be diluted, stylized past the point of meaning as much. It’s rare to see this kind of drama in an untouched form. The audience and actors here are forced to work with nothing but reality to create artistic drama, and that is a unique challenge.
The play follows the 2017 interrogation of Reality Winner, ex-Air Force linguist who was accused of leaking information on Russian meddling with the 2016 presidential election. In this current political landscape, this story is fully relevant to our wondering minds, many of which have been thus far unsatisfied with other media coverage.
Show times:
WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 29, 2020 7:30 PM
THURSDAY, JANUARY 30, 2020 7:30 PM
FRIDAY, JANUARY 31, 2020 8:00 PM
SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 1, 2020 8:00 PM
SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 2, 2020 2:00 PM // ARTHUR MILLER THEATRE
Tickets are $35 for general admission, and $12-20 for high school and college students. Find them here: https://ums.org/performance/is-this-a-room-reality-winner-verbatim-transcript/
It’s always a pleasure to enjoy something you weren’t certain you would. I am usually unmoved by the classics, from Shakespeare to Homer to Woolf. They don’t translate to modern day values and speech, and they always seem to be written as densely as possible. Besides the lack of ease I face understanding these texts, their baffling popularity throughout great lengths of time–even millennia–is personally upsetting to me, and makes my annoyance all the more overpowering.
While adaptations of old texts usually fall short of capturing a modern audience’s interest, this one was well done. Where typically the author relies on flat jokes and cheesy costumes, Zimmerman simultaneously honored the poetry of Ovid’s great work and subtly brought it into the now with small script changes and stage directions that shone through to the present. The cast were careful not to overdo it, understanding that the purpose of the adaptation was not solely cheap comedy, but should reflect the philosopher’s original, complex ideas. When the stage light reflected in Sophie Thurschwell’s eyes as she gave a soliloquy for her dear lost Orpheus, I was struck by the raw drama she could call upon to recite her ancient lines. Both she and Maria Garcia Reyna were excellent in adding a high degree of emotion into their acting, and paired with their alto-range voices, they had the power to truly resonate beneath the skin.
Bryce Foley and Maria Garcia Reyna in “Pomona and Vertumnus”
I was especially impressed with the success of the myths that were on the more humorous side. Like I said, it’s so easy to get this wrong through overacting, or an overly modernized version of the original text. Bryce Foley was my favorite in this respect, remaining fully deadpan when acting as Hermes, spinning Eurydice over and over. His best myth was Pomona and Vertumnus, where he played a slew of different characters including a solider, farmer, fisher, and grandmother. While the opportunity for overacting here was present, he gracefully avoided doing so, instead allowing lower-key body movements to elaborate on his range of costumes.
The entire crew was excellent in incorporating an array of fabrics as props, which mesmerized under the lights. Iris’ glittering golden wings seemed to reflect and hide at the same time. The motion of the fabric waves dragged me into the stage like the physical tide, a rip current of blue organza. A ruffling cape was able to flip from black to red with each minute movement. I only wish they had used more fabrics in the choreographed sections, as Iris’ jaunt across the stage was enough evidence alone to support that endeavor.
My only real critique of the show has nothing to do with the script or acting, but the music played in the background of each myth. Most were surprisingly tacky considering the quality of the rest of the production, sounding like something out of a kids’ version of a King Arthur story. This sometimes distracted from the scene at hand, especially in the more emotional ones. Other than that, it was a first-rate performance, and I would encourage anyone to attend another of theirs in the future.
A few upcoming events for all interested in more great theatre:
RC Players’ Evening of Scenes–January 31 and February 1, 8PM Keene Theatre
We the PROUD’s “What Was and May Be”–February 14, Keene Theatre
Published in the year 8, Ovid’s Metamorphoses are a group 15 books written as one epic poem. They describe, in a sometimes less-than-factual manner, the history of the world from creation to the stabbing of Caesar. The stories are independent, but connect through common themes, as Ovid was a great thinker, known for his philosophizing on the arts of falling in and out of love.
It might be hard to believe, but this ancient work has been adapted to affect a modern audience over two millennia later. If you love the classics, need something to do this weekend, or are interested in disproving your skepticism, I invite you to attend the theatre RC’s production.
Showtimes include:
Friday, January 17 at 7pm
Saturday, January 18 at 7pm
Sunday, January 19 at 7pm
all at the Keene Theater, 701 East University. Doors open at 6:45pm.
While this is a free event, the cast and crew worked tirelessly on this project, so there is a suggested donation of $5/person.
Theatre in the round? Kind of. But, like, more than that.
The University Musical Society brought this production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream to the Michigan Theatre as a National Theatre Live streaming on Sunday, November 24.
Director Nicholas Hytner’s take on the classic is comical, enchanting, and the most entertaining Shakespeare I have seen performed. During an intermission interview Hytner stated he began work on the play with some very strong ideas. First was the use of silks and aerial performance, as well as modeling the world of Athens after that of Gilead in The Handmaid’s Tale to reinforce the contrast between the repressive culture of the city and the freedom of the forest. The most effective directorial decision made by Hytner was to switch many of Titania and Oberon’s lines, changing the usual plot so that Titania is the one to trick Oberon, instead of the other way around.
In addition to his role as director of this production Hytner is also the co-founder of Bridge Theatre, a new 900-seat performance venue in London designed with a high degree of adaptability. As director he takes great advantage of this unique space to create the magical world of the forest. Production designer Bunny Christie uses this canvas masterfully as platforms are raised, lowered, and shifted through a standing audience to create an immersive and magical world. Beds that signify actual sleeping quarters in Athens return festooned with moss, vines, and leaves to represent the trees and landscape of the forest. The fairies’ domain is made of flying aerial silks which the actors use to great effect, spinning, twisting, and posing to illustrate their prowess in magic and spellcasting.
Photo by Manuel Harlan.
The lighting design of Bruno Poet and sound design of Paul Arditti both work with the scenic design to create a wonderful sense of atmosphere. While the lighting in Athens is stark and monochromatic, it shifts to deep greens and ethereal purples once the story shifts to the forest. Poet also does a great job of creating focus on specific areas. While holding Titania in a spotlight, a burst of light reveals Puck, having sprung up on the opposite platform. Arditti’s well-chosen sound combines with these lighting effects to create an almost tangible magic in the air, reinforcing the omnipresent nature of the mischievous fae. His atmospheric soundscape is near perfect. The best sound atmosphere is one that goes unnoticed. It is felt but never inserts itself into the scene. The low synth chords of Athens and the lilting strings of the forest do just that. They imbue the audience with a feeling that not only fits the words of the playwright but also justify the other design elements.
Photo by Manuel Harlan.
Christina Cunningham’s designs also reinforce the director’s visions. The stark and simplistic grey dresses of the Helena and Hermia in the city, combined with their white head coverings produce a broadly dystopian impression. The plain black suits of Theseus, Egeus, Demetrius, and Lysander are a uniform of masculine power. It is in these elements that Hytner’s inspiration from TheHandmaid’s Tale is most evident. The Rude Mechanicals are costumed in jumpsuits, highly reminiscent of the party uniform of Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty-Four. However, the most striking Athenian costume is Gwendoline Christie’s first as Hippolyta. Her black gown is beautiful in its simplicity and powerful in its monastic silhouette. She is striking, posed as a stark statue in a glass cage, placed there by Theseus. The costumes of the forest characters present a more fun, whimsical image. Puck flits in and out of scenes in patchwork jeans, graphic tank, and colorful armbands. The other fairies have faces painted with glitter and look more like acrobats or fashion models than beings of nature. Oberon, cast by Hytner as a frivolous playboy, is perfectly gorgeous for most of the play in long flowing gold silk robe, often shirtless underneath.
The one pitfall in the costume design is Christie’s green gown as Titania. This dress is emerald green, silky, more than floor-length, and one-shouldered. The asymmetrical floral detail on the bust contributes to a hyper-feminine and soft picture. This picture directly contrasts the headstrong, vengeful Queen that arises with Hytner’s line arrangements. What would make sense in a traditional rendering of Midsummer just doesn’t work here.
The sheer amount of talent, wit, comedy, and spectacle in this show had me thinking back to it constantly. It made me glad to have seen it and glad to be studying theatre. If there’s one major objection I have, it’s that there’s almost too many ideas in this production. The audience participation and reaction is a riot to watch, the aerial work is amazing, the acting top-notch, and the designs gorgeous. But I at times felt lost in the concept of it. While likening Athens to the theocracy of Gilead creates a striking stage picture, the extremely heavy real-world consequences of that dystopia doesn’t seem to fit in the comedic, self-aware romp of the rest of the production. The aerial acrobatics are well-integrated until Gwendoline Christie spends her time as Titania just sitting on a silk, buckled in, drawing attention to the fact that she is not an aerial artist. The comedy is refreshing until the Rude Mechanicals’ performance near the end is so drawn out that people are checking their watches.
But don’t get me wrong- this is a fantastic production. I haven’t read Midsummer for years and my memory of the plot was fuzzy, so this was a refreshing dip back into the story. And there’s so much more I could write about. Before this my favorite Shakespeare play was Twelfth Night, but Puck may have just bewitched me into changing my mind.
