La Vie ‘Rent’ – It’s 24 and Facing the Dreaded ‘R’ Word

La Vie ‘Rent’ – It’s 24 and Facing the Dreaded ‘R’ Word

By CB Adams
Contributing Writer

What happens when you take Puccini’s La Boheme (The Breakfast Club of its day) out for a sexed-up, drugged-up, angst-amped joy ride through lower Manhattan in the upper decade of the former millennium?

Well, if it’s 24 years ago, it snags a Pulitzer Prize for Drama and the Tony Award for Best Musical while running for an impressive 12 years and grossing more than $280 million.

But what if it’s 24 years later? Do a quick internet search about the 20th-anniversary touring production of Jonathan Larson’s Rent, which opened at the Fabulous Fox on Friday, Feb. 21, and you’ll find a significant amount of critics-sphere dithering about the dreaded R-word – relevance.

Is this Puccini reboot (of sorts) still relevant now that the LGBTQ and AIDS epidemic cultural landscape has shifted in the past two decades — to say nothing of New York City real estate?

On the other hand, is a focus on relevance really that…well, relevant? After all, is Oklahoma and its “surrey with the fringe on top” relevant? Is South Pacific and its hair washing man removal relevant? Will Hamilton still be hip-hoppin’ relevant in 20 years?

Kelsee Schweigard as Maureen

The crucible for relevance of any piece of theater (define relevance any way you please) is, ultimately, time. It’s about longevity. It’s about audiences willing – eager even – to engage with a new production of a show and embrace it anew. Within this context, the relevance of Rent, now 20 years on, is proved by its ability to enthusiastically fill seats, which this touring production certainly did on opening night at the Fox Theatre. The audience demographic was “youthier” than some other recent Fox shows, which makes sense because Rent is talkin’ ‘bout that younger generation that bridges the analogue and digital worlds.

The audience was greeted immediately by Paul Clay’s muscular, industrial set design, adapted for this production by Matthew Maraffi, which provided an effective visual environment that evoked the vibe and spirit of (to cross genres) the Dandy Warhols’ “Bohemian Like You.” The lighting was noteworthy, too, appropriately shifting from candle-lit love-mood to spotlighted rock concert stage. Tucked stage right was the lean pit orchestra, led by conductor/keyboardist Mark Binns, which was seamlessly – visually and aurally – integrated into the production. In fact, it was easy to forget they were on stage most of the time.   

Rent is a demanding show choreographically speaking. It requires a range of athleticism during numbers such Mimi’s Tina Turner-channeling “Out Tonight” to the company’s languid, funereal “Goodbye, Love.” This production is generally up to that challenge, though Aiyana Smash as Mimi appeared unsure and overly studied during some of her pole-dancing moves while climbing and hanging from the railings during “Out Tonight.” Such hesitancy was quickly forgotten after her tabletop romping later in that number.   

Costume Design by Angela Wendt was true to the original and to the 90s era it represented. Costumes were mostly rags that thankfully didn’t veer too deeply into Uriah Heep territory and enlivened with some Jane Fonda workout and Where’s Wally? flourishes. One misstep was the portrayal of the riot police who wore oversized, cartoonish visors, cupped their batons like rural sheriffs and marched like children on parade. That may have been the intent, but it detracted from the emotional reach of their scenes.

The 20th reunion Rent benefits from a strong, deep-bench cast:

Cody Jenkins as Mark Cohen

Cody Jenkins as Mark Cohen provided the connective tissue throughout as both emcee and cast member. He delivered an admirable range that modulated from affable to earnest and, at-times, angry and callow.

Coleman Cummings delivered a strong but uneven performance as Roger Davis. On numbers that required his “big voice,” his voice was strong, meaty and powerful, but in quieter moments he was ineffectively torpid and lispy, even though Roger is not in good health.

Audience favorite Angel Schunard was Pussy-Galored/Pussy-Glamoured with a cat-like, Jack Skellington-esque aplomb by Joshua Tavares. His drag queen persona rightly drew applause and you-go-girl affirmations, but his quieter, sick and dying scenes were equally as memorable for their quiet power – especially his simulated puking. Schunard had the perfect blend of range and moves for the entirety of this demanding part.

Kelsee Sweigard delivered one of the show’s most impressive performances as Maureen Johnson during the “Over the Moon” performance art number. She played the preposterous “milk in the cyber world” scene with a believable, earnest awkwardness that wasn’t easy to achieve – in the same way playing believably drunk is never easy.  

Shafiq Hicks as big-man Tom Collins belted out his deep, resonant, “Old Man River”-tinged voice in all his solos, especially his reprise of “I’ll Cover You.” His best stage moments begged the production make a hard stop – in only good ways – to pay special attention to his performance.

Ditto for Smash as Mimi. Smash’s show-stopping power was evident in equal measures in her dance and singing. Her Mimi shared an impressive spectrum of radiance, assertiveness, horniness, vulnerability and, ultimately, transfigured. 

Rent at 24 resonates a little differently than it did in its Broadway and touring heyday. Perhaps at its 30th and 40th anniversaries will find a different relevance, though audiences may need footnotes to explain references to the Sex Pistols, Spike Lee, Ecstasy, etc.

But, as Dale Carnegie (of all people) once wrote, “Your purpose is to make your audience see what you saw, hear what you heard, feel what you felt. Relevant detail, couched in concrete, colorful language, is the best way to recreate the incident as it happened and to picture it for the audience.”

Yeah, Rent does that.

The 20th anniversary tour of “Rent”

The Fabulous Fox Theatre presented “Rent” February 21-23.

A Lot of Song, A Lot of Dance, A Lot of Sparkle on Her Dress — The Donna Summer Musical Works Hard for Your Ticket Money

A Lot of Song, A Lot of Dance, A Lot of Sparkle on Her Dress — The Donna Summer Musical Works Hard for Your Ticket Money

By CB Adams
Contributing Writer
It’s nice to be surprised, even at what might seem like just another jukebox musical. And yet, that’s exactly what “Summer: The Donna Summer Musical” achieved.
On opening night at the Fox Theatre, the audience obviously came primed to be wowed by performances of Ms. Summer’s greatest hits like “Love to Love You Baby,” “MacArthur Park,” “Bad Girls,” “Hot Stuff.” The show doled them out in a steady stream and culminated, predictably in…you guessed it, the show-ender “Last Dance.”
Like many jukebox musicals, Summer the show suffers from moments of clunky dialogue, yuck-yuck jokes and plot shifts that require more than a simple suspension of disbelief. And it artificially tries to create momentum by turning up the volume or bass (or both).
But unlike most of this genre’s brethren and sistren, Summer transcends its own shortcomings, with thanks due largely to Dan’yelle Williamson as Diva Donna/Mary Gaines (her birth name), Alex Hairston as Disco Donna and Olivia Elease Hardy as Duckling Donna/Mimi (one of Ms. Summer’s daughters.)
Yes. That’s right.
It takes three performers to properly portray the one real-life Donna Summer, who was no one-hit wonder. This vocal triptych is apropos because Summer was more than the sum of her parts, and that sum comprised her many talents as singer, songwriter, mother, wife, visual artist and all-around diva.
Sometimes solo and sometimes sharing the stage simultaneously as Summer wrestled with her life’s demons and dilemmas, Williamson, Hairston and Hardy (you could call them the Three Facets) do Donna proud.
They may not have Summer’s chops or X-factor presence, but they evoke and reflect the power, emotion and confidence of their powerful pop progenitor.
Another part of this show’s success is the book by Colman Domingo, Robert Cray and Des McAnuff. Instead of concocting a contrived, wink-wink plot, Summer hits the Cliffs Notes (the highs as well as the lows) of Ms. Summer’s life and career.
This nonfiction element works well enough within the context of this show and provides an acceptable, linear story arc while engaging in some not-too off-putting revisionist history and legacy polishing.
It appeared that most in the audience were already familiar with the undulations of Summer’s career. They came to party like it was 1979, not slog through the high drama of Mommy Dearest or The Color Purple (though this show presents “lite” versions of similar themes).
The songs, to borrow a phrase from oenology (and maybe Tina Turner), still have legs. Though at the time of their release they suffered the slings and arrows of the “Disco Sucks” movement,
Summer’s songs still have the power to make you shake your groove thing, even if more than a few audience members had to shake ‘em sitting down. Blues Brother Dan Aykroyd and his diatribe about “pre-programed electronic disco” would have been admonished to shut up and dance.
The auditorium was filled with so much head bobbing and seat dancing that surely they put to shame the puny “Bohemian Rhapsody” scene in Wayne’s World.
The Summer stage sparkled brightly under the direction of Des McAnuff, choreography by Sergio Trujillo, music supervision by Ron Melrose, scenic design by Robert Brill, costumes by Paul Tazewell and lighting by Howey Binkley. This combination gave Summer an early-MTV vibe, a la Robert Palmer’s “Addicted to Love” video.
The stage was clean and minimal while evoking the spirit of its times while never overwhelming the presence of Summer in any or all of her three facets.
The unexpected surprise of this show, wasn’t, however, any of the above. It wasn’t one of Summer’s mega-hits, which were practically designed to be uber-crowd-pleasers. Rather, it was a song later in the one-act show – “I Believe in Jesus” performed by Disco Donna. Hairston’s passionate performance brought the show to a standstill, in all the best ways, and received some of the most heartfelt, resonant applause of the evening.
The song’s placement in the show marks a beat in Summer’s life when her faith was reinvigorated. And, like several other obvious and subtle moments, conveyed yet another facet of the strong, talented, driven, successful woman behind the Queen of Disco moniker.
The Fabulous Fox Theatre presents “Summer: The Donna Summer Musical” January 15-26. For more information, visit www.fabulousfox.com.

‘Escape from Margaritaville’ Washes Ashore and Wastes Away

‘Escape from Margaritaville’ Washes Ashore and Wastes Away

Escape From Margaritaville Washes Ashore and Wastes
Away

By CB AdamsContributing Writer

Escape From Margaritaville is not your typical musical theater experience. In fact, one deigns to even dub it a “musical.” It’s more party than performance.

That’s because to receive the full benefit of buying a ticket – and for the show to reach its limited potential – requires the audience to fully engage – that is to actually participate – in its Parrot-headed premise.

Escape From Margaritaville hails from the Jimmy Buffet industrial complex and is an island-flavored entertainment with as much realism as a cheesy travel brochure. The show snorkeled into town at The Fabulous Fox on October 18-20.

Riding in the wake of other successful, so-called jukebox musicals, Margartaville is conspicuously designed to ride in on the high tide of box office success of other productions of this ilk, namely Mama Mia! and Rock of Ages.

These successful shows provided the recipe-cum-template for
Margaritaville, which tosses Buffet’s beguiling country-western-in-a-Hawaiian-shirt
tunage and Will Rogers-ish, aw-shucks humor into a blender with a tropish,
silly “boy meets then loses girl” plot, trying to render a frozen concoction
that hopes to help the audience hang onto their ticket stubs for a breezy couple
of hours.

But instead of landing an expected sharknado of sing-along
shenanigans, Friday night’s performance reeled in gasping guppies. The reason
why was not the bait. Who doesn’t love Buffet’s easy, languid, catchy,
comfortable-as-your-favorite flip-flops songs such as “Volcano,” “Fins,” “Come
Monday,” “Son of a Son of a Sailor” and the title song? It’s nearly impossible
not to like these fan faves, just ask thousands – if not millions – of Parrot
Heads the world over.

Nor was the show’s failure to launch due to the
aforementioned plot, which surely does not require one to suspend very much
disbelief. After all, the show’s tagline says it all: “Set Your Mind on Island
Time.” That should be easy to do, given Buffet promotion of a fiddle-dee-dee,
“Why Don’t We Get Drunk and Screw?” mindset.

But the dialogue was predictable, flavorless and seemed like it was borrowed from a second-rate sitcom, which is a shame since it came from Emmy-winner Greg Garcia (My Name is Earl, Family Matters and Family Guy) and Mike O’Malley (the award-winning Survivor’s Remorse).

The plot tortuously bends to accommodate the story of two
women from Cincinnati on a bachelorette binge. Rachel, the lead, played by
Sarah Hinrichsen, is a type A scientist whose friend, Rachel, played by Shelly
Lynn Walsh, is soon to be married to the bro-y, doltish Chadd, broadly played
by Noah Bridgestock with thankfully short stage time.

The women predictably become entwined with islanders Tully,
the other lead played by Chris Clark, and Brick, played by Peter Michael
Jordan. Of all the performances on Friday night, Jordan’s was the only lively
stand-out – and that’s not damning the performance with faint praise. He
practically carried the show, especially during the campy tap number in the
second act. Even the horny ole codger, J.D., played by Patrick Cogan, needed an
extra shot of Ron Rico (or another “little blue pill”) at this performance.

All of the shortcomings of Escape From Margaritaville
could have been overcome with a more enthusiastic and fully engaged audience.
The producers tried to turn the show into an event with free leis at the
entrance, a precious few moments when the actors broke the fourth wall, and a
boatload of beachballs released during the final number. But the audience
response was lackluster. It needed more die-hard, fully plumed Parrot Heads or
at least more attendees who were willing to abandon their self-reserve in favor
of the show’s charms for a couple of hours.

That, and unlike Rock of Ages, which packed a
decade’s worth of 80s big-haired rockers, Escape to Margaritaville
needed more – much more – of Buffet’s appealing, easy-on-the-ears-and-mind
tunes. Good times need good tunes, and these felt in short supply in this show,
leaving some at the exits, escaping from Margartaville.

The Fabulous Fox Theatre presented “Escape from Margaritaville” October 18-20.

Songs in the Key of Outrage – Union Avenue Opera’s ‘Glory Denied’ Confronts Vietnam War’s Ugly Truths

Songs in the Key of Outrage – Union Avenue Opera’s ‘Glory Denied’ Confronts Vietnam War’s Ugly Truths

By CB AdamsContributing WriterThere’s no easy way to say this: Union Avenue Opera’s season-ender production of Tom Cipullo’s true story Glory Denied is not easy to recommend because it is “not” many things.

It’s not a familiar, time-tested story arc (dare we say, post-modern?). Like most operas, it doesn’t examine a happy subject (war, torture, dissolution, hatred substance abuse, suicide, etc.), but unlike most operas, it ends despairingly rather than tragically, hopefully or even poetically.

Because it is not an opera that takes fictional specifics and reaches out for the universal — it’s an adaptation of the eponymous book by Tom Philpott, Glory Denied presents the very real specifics of a very real man (husband, father, Army colonel, America’s longest-held prisoner of war, alcoholic, etc.) and turns those specifics deeply inward – into gut shots rather than navel gazing. Nor is it filled with likeable characters; it’s especially hard to identify with or have much true empathy for either version of the wife, Alyce, despite Cipullo’s best efforts to present her side of the story.

And it’s not about America at its best – no rose-colored, rah-rah,
flag-waving, patriotic boosterism in this story. This is an opera about an ugly
war, an ugly time in America and the ugly way that both the government and our
fellow citizens dealt with its ugly details and aftereffects. On stage, the
horrific details keep adding up like those nightly body counts on the evening
news during the Vietnam War.

The first act deals primarily with the eight-year
imprisonment and physical abuse that Floyd James “Jim” Thompson endured,
followed by the second act examining how his post-war life was just as
tortuous, albeit in very different ways. (For plot details, do a quick internet
search – it debuted in 2007 and has had more than 20 productions since then.)

And yet, it is precisely because of all of the things that Glory Denied is not that makes it precisely
why UAO’s production deserves an audience – and certainly one better attended
than the August 17 performance (c’mon, St. Louis theater goers in general and
opera goers in particular!). Not everything worthwhile is easy and not
everything can be sugarcoated to help the bitterness go down. Glory Denied (in its St. Louis debut), should
be seen for exactly what it is: a cautionary tale. It serves the same purpose
as the uncomfortable “aversion therapy” scene in A Clockwork Orange – the one where the lead character, Alex, is
forced to watch violent images while his eyes are clamped open.

Union Avenue Opera’s Glory Denied dress rehearsal on August 13, 2019.Kudos and a tip of the hat to UAO for taking a chance, pushing the boundaries of our local audiences and supporting the work of a modern composer. The company showed extraordinary commitment to this production. As part of a PNC Arts Alive Grant, UAO presented a free panel discussion about Glory Denied and the Vietnam War on August 13 at Soldier’s Memorial.

Tom Cipullo attended the opening weekend of the opera and led talk-back presentations after the performances. Veterans were eligible for free general admission tickets and active military could see the production for $15. There was even a special room reserved for those who might have an anxious reaction during each performance.

Befitting the intimate nature of the story, Glory Denied relies on a cast of just four portraying two versions of the same character under the direction of St. Louis native Dean Anthony, making his UAO debut. David Walton portrays Younger Thompson and Peter Kendall Clark (making his UAO debut, though he has sung the role previously) plays the central character, Older Thompson.

Thompson’s wife is portrayed by Karina Brazas as the Younger Alyce and Gina Galati as Older Alyce. Brazas and Galati deserve some sort of operatic hazard pay for meeting the challenges of portraying such unlikeable characters so well – it makes their accomplishment that much more appreciated. That same appreciation applies to the entire ensemble as they work with a script consisting entirely of lines from actual interviews, correspondence and other research materials.

The music – sometimes jarring, discordant, atonal – was energetic and robust as conducted by UAO artistic director Scott Schoonover. The minimalist set design by Roger Speidel, while spare, provided appropriate details to convey time and indicate place. He made especially good use of foot lockers and many forms of paper, such as letters, government memoranda, newspapers and magazines as they were thrown, dropped and flung throughout the stage.  

The peak performance of the evening was Clark’s bellicose
rendition of “Welcome Home,” which has some of the tightest, strongest and
angriest writing in the opera – even though it  borrows the same ironic, rapid-fire structure
created by Bob Dylan’s “Subterranean Homesick Blues,” Billy Joel’s “We Didn’t
Start the Fire,” and REM’s “It’s the End of the World as We Know It (And I Feel
Fine).”

Yes, Glory Denied is a tough sell, especially if all you seek is passive escapism (there’s a new Lion King for that) rather than a production that asks you to actively, intellectually consider one of the true costs of war – and not just the Vietnam War.

Union Avenue Opera’s Glory Denied dress rehearsal on August 13, 2019.

It’s a bit like being required to read William Faulkner’s Absalom, Absalom! orHerman Mehlville’s Moby Dick. Sure, they look dense and imposing sitting unopened – and maybe you won’t love every single sentence – but there’s a satisfaction when you make it to the end. Glory Denied deserves that much respect and deserves a fuller audience than last Saturday’s – even if it is a bitter pill.

Union Avenue Opera presents “Glory Denied” August 16, 17,
23 and 24 at 8 p.m. at Union Avenue Christian Church. For more information,
visit www.unionavenueopera.org.

Down in the Marrow – Opera Theatre’s ‘Fire Shut Up in My Bones’ Breaks Hearts and Boundaries

Down in the Marrow – Opera Theatre’s ‘Fire Shut Up in My Bones’ Breaks Hearts and Boundaries

By CB AdamsContributing WriterTo mix musical genres – and to begin with the finale of Fire Shut Up in My Bones – this new “opera in jazz” answers the same rhetorical question raised in “Alive and Kicking” by Simple Minds: “What’s it gonna take to make a dream survive? / Who’s got the touch to calm the storm inside?” The rhetorical answer in general is each of us and in particular, it is the opera’s hero-protagonist, Charles.

Opera Theatre of St. Louis premiered Fire Shut Up in My Bones, an opera that bends – if not downright breaks – the style, presentation and story arc of what we think of as traditional opera. If your idea of opera is a stage full of European white people voicing the story and words of some dead white dude, then Fire will surprise you in multiple ways – not the least of which is the all-African-American cast.

First is the source material. Fire is adapted
from the memoir of the same name by New York Times columnist Charles
Blow, rather than fables, fairy tales or fiction. Fire was created by
librettist Kasi Lemmons (director/writer/actress) and composer Terence
Blanchard (film score composer/noted jazz trumpeter). This is Blanchard’s
second commission from OTSL; the first was Champion presented in 2013.

The narrative is presented in a book-ended fashion, with the opening and concluding scenes set in Charles’ home. Correspondingly, the reason the Charles has returned to his hometown (physically and metaphorically) is explained at the beginning and reaches its resolution at the end. Within those bookends, Fire follows a linear timeline that satisfyingly links the beginning with the ending.

Jeremy Denis, Davone Tines and Karen SlackOf course, Fire is an opera and peddles the usual Big Themes (Love, Infidelity, Violence, Murder), but like the good gumbo that it is, it adds sexual molestation, sexual identity, abject poverty and fraternity hazing – not to mention the challenges and monotony of working in a chicken processing plant! Instead of Nordic mountains or an Italian villa, Fire is set in the rural idyll of Gibsland, Louisiana, with a set design that practically exudes the heat and humidity of the American South.

The music of Fire leans away from traditional Western European orchestration and into a unique patois of American jazz, folk, blues and big band performed by an orchestra/jazz combo hybrid, conducted by William Long.

 Fire efficiently packs Blow’s entire memoir into a couple of captivating hours’ worth of opera. It cinematically – and efficiently – quick-cuts from scene to scene (home shack, porch, farm fields, chicken factory, farmland, molestation bed, college fraternity party) leading to the denouement and resolution of Charles’ conflicts. The success of OTSL’s Fire is attributable in no small part to the production – weighty and evocative without being heavy – helmed by director James Robinson, making his OTSL debut.

At the premiere, the talents of Allen Moyer (set
design), Christopher Akerlind (lighting design) and Greg Emetaz (video
projection engineer), cohered as the stage morphs from scene to scene using
movable set pieces in tempo with the music, singing and action (kudos, too, to
choreographer Seán
Curran and Tom Watson, wig and makeup design). The attention to telling details
extended to the palpable bloodiness of the chicken processors (more kudos to
James Schuette for costume design here and throughout). Even the table cloths
in a nightclub scene looked like old-fashioned bottle caps, evoking the
pleasure to be found there.

Equally impressive were the principal performers of Fire. Blanchard and Lemmons solved the
challenge of presenting the lead character from age six to adult (in sung
roles) by using both a child, the delightful Jeremy Denis as Char’es-Baby, and the
adult Charles, the bass-baritone Davóne Tines. They were often in scene together, with
Charles providing context and counsel like a sort of Jiminy Cricket to his own
younger self. Along with several other young actors, it was engaging to watch
children on stage do something more meaningful than add background.

One of the opera’s pivotal scenes is the molestation of
the Char’es-Baby by a cousin, and it was one of the highlights of this
production – harrowing and nauseating without being prurient, pervey or porny.

Some of the opera’s ensemble played multiple roles, the
most obvious of which was soprano Julia Bullock who played the Chorus-like Destiny
and Loneliness as well as Greta Charles’ love-interest for a time. Bullock
transitioned among these characters easily, without calling attention to her
ability to fully inhabit and portray them. No good Southern story is complete
without a sassy and strong mama, and soprano Karen Slack as Billie, Charles’s
mother, is no exception. Her performance commanded the audience to fully
experience her character rather than sit back passively and watch and listen.

Davone Tines, Karen Slack in “Fire Shut Up in My Bones.”In a way, it is Billie who has the last word in Fire as Charles seems to accept her recurring advice that “sometimes you gotta leave it in the road.” To mix musical genres again, there’s a similar sentiment in “The Wiz.” It’s the notion that “Don’t you carry nothing / That might be a load.” Fire leaves on the hopeful if unsung note that moving on in life Charles will indeed “Ease On Down the Road.”

Opera Theatre of St. Louis presented the world premiere of “Fire Shut Up in My Bones” June 15-29 at the Loretto-Hilton Center. Fore more information visit www.experienceopera.com

“Fire
Shut Up My Bones”
Opera Theatre of St. Louis
June 15 – June 29
Loretto-Hilton Centerwww.experienceopera.com
314-961-0644

Sopranos in Love – Can’t Stop Believin’ in OTSL’s ‘Coronation of Poppea’

Sopranos in Love – Can’t Stop Believin’ in OTSL’s ‘Coronation of Poppea’

By CB AdamsContributing Writer

Opera Theatre’s riveting production of Claudio Monteverdi’s The Coronation of Poppea brings to mind
some dubious advice from philosopher-cum-mob boss Tony Soprano, “When you’re
married, you’ll understand the importance of fresh produce.”

The green grocer in Poppea is none other than the real-life Roman leader Nerone (nee Nero), portrayed with unerring sleaze, swagger and callous Machiavellian machismo by tenor Benton Ryan. At its most reductive, Poppea is a “love” triangle set within a palace drama.  Nerone’s desire to discard his wife, Ottavia, (played with perfect, doomed impotence by Sarah Mesko) into the compost heap sets in motion the story’s drama. But, as the title implies, this isn’t really his story. It belongs to his paramour and hot potato, Poppea, played by the excellent Emily Fons.

Poppea shares much with Carmela Soprano who famously
quipped, “…It’s a multiple choice thing with you. ‘Cause I can’t tell if you’re
old-fashioned, you’re paranoid or just a f**cking asshole.” Except, for Poppea,
those question are rhetorical. Her theme song would not be Tina Turner’s “I
Might Have Been Queen.” Fons’s Poppea, we realize early on, will be queen. Just get her to the
coronation on time.

 The Sopranos operatically limned the complexities of love/lust,
power/vulnerability, allegiance/betrayal and life/death. Yet, as fresh as those
storylines appeared, they were really just modern manifestations of ageless Big
Themes – as Poppea aptly
demonstrates. To provide some genealogical operatic perspective, Poppea was first performed in the
Teatrro Santi Giovanni e Paolo in Venice in 1643 for the Carnival season.

And therein lies the brilliance of OTSL’s current
production: it’s a classic story still capable of captivating and surprising a
modern audience with its ambitious and equally modern Go Big Or Go Home attitude
– when presented this well. If this sounds hyperbolic, then consider the chorus
of gasps that erupted from the audience during the knifing to death of a
character (no spoilers, here). That was proof enough that OTSL’s casting,
direction and design all work seamlessly to achieve an emotionally satisfying,
multi-layered, epiphanic experience.

Unlike its namesake, OTSL’s Poppea, directed by Tim Albery by way of England’s North Opera
(2014), is a perfect marriage in toto.
Albery and set/costume designer Hannah Clark give this age-old tale a more
modern look, setting it in the near past with a sheen that is part mob movie,
part French New Wave and part Mad Men.
It draws upon talents both wide and deep, top to bottom, to achieve its
successes:

Photo by Eric WoolseyThe Leads: Part
of the magic of the elevated, high-art opera theater experience is its
potential to entice the audience to suspend its disbelief. Achieving that
alchemy is often more aspirational than actual. OTSL’s Poppea achieves that potential, with Fons, Ryan and Mesko being the
highest-profile examples. Individually they inhabited their roles and collectively
interacted with assured chemistry . Mezzo-soprano Fons nailed the voice,
mannerisms and confidence to turn Poppea from mere conniving character to
queen. Benton, Poppea’s running mate (whether at her side, trailing behind or
just sniffing around) was engaging as a man of great, misguided, misused power.
To his credit, his portrayal – more than once – begged for cries of, “You
dumbstick, don’t do it!” Mesko as Ottavia was no wet dishrag. As a character,
Ottavia is outnumbered and outgunned, but Mesko’s performance garnered audience
sympathy and support for her Sisyphean efforts to save her marriage, status and
self.

Supporting Actors:
Poppea is a rich, multi-layered story
that relies on a large cast. The leads in OTSL’s production were joined by
equally strong supporting performances, including some roles for Richard Gaddes
Festival Artists and Gerdine Young Artists.

As the philosopher Seneca, David Pittsinger’s deep baritone provided
a beautiful gravitas to his efforts to counsel and guide his pupil, Nerone. His
distinctive voice exemplifies another strength of this production – you could
close your eyes and still distinguish the various characters. Tom Scott-Cowell,
a countertenor, was a delight to witness as he pretzeled his desperate character
from jilted lover to cross-dressing assassin.

As if the human machinations weren’t enough, Monteverdi also
threw in some meddling gods, which Albery used to open the opera (even before
it officially starts) by wandering around the set, as if waiting for the party
to get started. Mezzo-soprano Michael was a delightfully puckish, androgynous
and Babe Ruth-ish Amore competing with a weary Virtu, played by Jennifer
Aylmer, and latex-gloved Fortuna, played by Sydney Baedke.

Set and Lighting:
Under Hannah Clark’s design, not an inch of the thrust stage was wasted in this
production that balanced a steam-punk industrial vibe with the beautify period instruments
of the musicians flanking each side. Overhead hung three mid-century modern
chandeliers. Shiny, verdigris back walls were reminiscent of an old natatorium
(apt, for this is a world under water), complete with a ladder used to good
effect by the gods to “ascend” above the action.

In contrast, the walls were punctured by a corrugated sliding
door and another that looked it was stolen from an abandoned meat locker. The
set design also made clever use of a rolling table for feasting, lovemaking, dancing,
peacocking, escaping and, ultimately, as a place to stack the bodies (you stab
‘em, we slab ‘em). Despite these seeming visual incongruities, the set and
design work cohesively with the other elements of this interpretation.

Music: Adding to
the unconventional presentation, Albery elevates the musicians to perform in two
string quartets seated on either side of the stage. The musicians were dressed
mostly in formal ballroom attire, adding a graceful note as they played on violins,
two harpsichords and a variety of period instruments, including Baroque harp, viola
da gamba and theorbos.  

In a debate with the other gods, Amore asserts that love
will win the day. In Poppea, love – blind
love, anyway – does seem to win the day, as Nerone and Poppea finish one of opera’s
great duets and look hesitantly toward an unknowable future. This moment calls
to mind something Dr. Melfi says to Tony Soprano, “Sometimes, it’s important to
give people the illusion of being in control.”

 “The Coronation of Poppea” plays at the Loretto-Hilton Center through June 30. For more information or to purchase tickets, visit www.experienceopera.org.

Life is a Highway: ‘Leaving Iowa’ Leaves You Smiling Wistfully

Life is a Highway: ‘Leaving Iowa’ Leaves You Smiling Wistfully

By C.B. AdamsContributing WriterAct Inc.’s family-friendly production of Leaving Iowa, written by the multi-talented team of Tim Clue and Spike Morgan, feels like an adaptation of a personal essay. You know, the kind that appears around Father’s Day in the New York Times‘s Sunday Review with a title like, “Me and My Old Man.”

John Steinbeck took to the highways with his dog and ended up with a book called Travels With Charlie. Leaving Iowa, a memory play that weaves past and present, could just as well be titled Travels With My Dad — a mildly ironic title perhaps, given that the narrator of this play is carrying around his father’s memory and his burial ashes. 

Befitting its authors’ professional achievements as motivational speakers and improv/stand-up comedians, Leaving Iowa offers snappy, quick-paced and engaging dialogue that is well timed and sprinkled liberally with one-liners and other comedic accoutrements.

As an entertainment, it shares much with a good-quality sitcom in the vicinity of Home Improvement. It’s approach and themes are milder versions of those in A Christmas Story(movie or musical version), which was itself a softer version of humorist Jean Shepard’s novel In God We Trust: All Others Pay Cash.

Photo by John LambLeaving Iowa can feature as many as 27 performers by casting multiple character parts separately. Director Lori Renna nicely pared this production to just six by making use of the quick-changing talents of CeCe Day and John Emery.

Part of the fun of this production was anticipating whom Day and Emery would be playing the next time they emerged from the wings of the in-the-round stage at the Black Box Theater in Lindenwood’s J. Scheidegger Center for the Arts.The four other parts, played by John Reidy as Dad, Colleen Heneghan as Mom, Hunter Frederick as Don Browning and Amanda Brasher as Sis, also required the actors to portray their characters in the present and past. Hunter and Brasher delightfully transformed from young backseat nattering chatterboxes to their more mature but no less competitive adult counterparts. The play is projected through the lens of the son, Don Browning. Hunter’s likeable, identifiable and approachable portrayal of a son running the gamut of fond remembrances, regret and contrition hit his mark with ease every time.

Heneghan and Reidy as Mom and Dad respectively provided a solid base from which the rest of the play revolves. After all, doesn’t it seem like our parents never change? This was especially true as veteran actor Reidy play Dad both as a real live character as well as a tingle-inducing memory-ghost in some scenes.

As the actors bopped from scene to scene along the play’s extended time line, their efforts were well supported by the staging provided by Lori Potts, scene design by Tim Grumich, lighting design by Michael Sullivan , costume design by Jane Sullivan and sound design by Kaitlynn Ferris. To this team’s credit, all of these elements  were quietly woven into the play and provided just the right of effect to convey each scene. Sometimes, as in this case, not standing out is outstanding — and the right directorial choice.More than once, the family in Leaving Iowa piles into an imaginary car and hits a road that is sometimes metaphorical and sometimes actual. As the play ends, with Don finally finding an appropriate resting place for his father’s ashes, its resolution leaves the audience with a feeling both wistful, amused, satisfied, and…well, happy. You know that look a dog has with its head sticking out the window of a moving car, as if its smiling?Yeah, Leaving Iowa leaves you like that. 

Photo by John LambAct Inc. presents “Leaving Iowa” June 14 through June 22. Performances June 21-22 are Friday at 7:30 p.m. and Saturday at 2 p.m. in the Emerson Black Box Theatre at J. Scheidegger Cener for the Arts on the Lindenwood campus in St. Charles. For more information or tickets, visit www.actincstl.com

The Lions In Winter: ‘Lewis & Tolkien’ Peeks At Real Friendship Between Fantasy’s Old Boys

The Lions In Winter: ‘Lewis & Tolkien’ Peeks At Real Friendship Between Fantasy’s Old Boys

By C.B. Adams Contributing Writer The title of the play, “Lewis & Tolkien of Wardrobes and Rings” might imply that attendees will be privy to behind-the-scenes factoids about their favorite “Lord of the Rings” and/or “The Chronicles of Narnia” characters. Alas, no revelations here. The two-man play, presented at the Playhouse at Westport Plaza, offers no new insights into Bilbo’s sexuality or Aslan’s origins as a plush toy.

“Lewis & Tolkien” delights in other, more
mature and insightful ways. It’s a buddy play, an even-more-literary “My
Dinner with Andre.” Written and performed by David Payne as C. S. Lewis
with Gregory Welsch as J. R. R. Tolkien, this play lightly examines the lives,
loves, shortcomings and pontifications of these masters of British fantasy as
they age into grumpy, weary, ruminative old men.

With a simple set — two easy chairs, a couple of tables, a
chess set to convey a cozy back room at their favorite pub — the play puts
front and center the true friendship between Tolkien and Lewis — the men, not
the legends. And friendship here is defined as a deep, platonic man-love that
has both nourished and complicated their lives.

 As Tolkien wrote in “The
Fellowship of the Ring,” “All we have to decide is what to do with the
time that is given us.” Payne’s play sets the two characters down to hash out
some of their issues. This approach emphasizes the abilities of the two actors.
In this, Payne and Welsch are as comfortable as well-broken-in loafers. Without
snazzy scenery or sound design, it’s easy to fall into the word- and
idea-filled relationship between them.

Neither Tolkien nor Lewis have any distinctive mannerism or
characteristics, compared to, say, Truman Capote, so there is no burden to
assess how well either actor portrays his man. So, the success of this
performance relies — rightly — on the chemistry and interplay between Payne
and Welsch. In this production, this is achieved well.

 The writers
themselves created fantastical worlds and these actors create a smaller but no
less potent and engaging world of ideas and interpersonal challenges and
triumphs. Plus, they get to dis The Bard himself, Shakespeare. That’s a tall
challenge with pared down theatrical essentials and a stage as intimate as
Westport’s. Despite some small timing and dialogue flubs by Payne, and the
noticeable tape holding the microphones on the cheeks of both actors, they
maintained this world with believability, passion and poignancy.

If this play were a painting, it would be one of those
glowing cottages rendered by Thomas Kinkade. It invites you in for some tea and
a satisfying, stimulating conversation. Taking an algorithmic approach, ala
Pandora or Spotify, if you like these authors’ writings, if you are a regular
Masterpiece Theatre-goer, if you are into tweedy woolen jackets with leather
elbow patches, or if you have an abiding appreciate the “life of the
mind,” then Lewis & Tolkien is for you.

The Playhouse at Westport Plaza presented “Lewis
& Tolkien, of Wardrobe and Rings” for six performances June 13-16. For more
information, visit www.playhouseatwestport.com

Act Inc.’s ‘Travels with My Aunt’ Proves It’s Not Easy Being – or Playing – Greene

Act Inc.’s ‘Travels with My Aunt’ Proves It’s Not Easy Being – or Playing – Greene

By CB AdamsContributing Writer

“Travels With My Aunt,” a 1969 novel by Graham Greene and adapted into this play by Scotsman Giles Havergal, is 10 pounds of story stuffed into an evening clutch bag. The micro-synopsis of the globe-trotting plot is that it involves the tentacled way a flamboyant octogenarian aunt tractor-beams her nephew, a stuffy retired banker with a penchant for raising dahlias, into the intrigue of her nefarious-but-not-really shenanigans.

It’s a farcical, preposterously picaresque and broad play with too much set up and a rushed conclusion. The Brits (think Monty Python to Benny Hill), have a special knack for this kind of silly comedy – the kind that breezes along asking for little of the audience, aims for titters rather than guffaws, and reveals English culture for all its myopic, stiff-upper-lip foibles.

Photo by John Lamb

It’s also the type of script that actors and directors find irresistible. And who can blame them — the men, anyway? The four-man ensemble gets to practice (and practice and practice) their British accents (plus a few other world dialects) while quick-changing into the play’s 25 male and female characters at the drop of hat, or a wig or a mustache or fedora, as required. No wonder Greene’s story has been adapted into this play, a radio play, a movie (directed by George Cukor, no less) and a musical a few years back. If he were still alive, “Travels” would have made a terrific one-man show starring Robin Williams at his maniacal, hyperactive best.

Lindenwood University’s summer repertory theatre, ACT INC’s
production of “Travels With My Aunt,” directed by Emily Jones, provides a
theater experience with a dutiful, earnest exuberance comprising one part “the
old college try” and one part “hey kids, let’s put on a show!” This manly ensemble
adroitly transitions among the play’s characters while keeping the action
moving breezily along.

The strength of this production is in this ensemble, rather
than the four individual actors – Anthony Wininger, Ted Drury, Jake Blonstein
and Timothy Patrick Grumich – who are (to their credit) interchangeable. This
interchangeability at its best is fun to watch, and requires an impressive
range of physicality and improv-like energy. The biggest laugh of the night was
the creation of a men’s restroom, complete with two urinals, using two stacks
of suitcases. At its worst, this interchangeability leaves one with a
linguistic hangover that sounds like four bland, generic degrees of Dame Edna
Everage.

Staging this relatively short one-act in the round was certainly
a highlight. The compass-like octagonal stage was a clear and effective way to
anchor each actor with his trunk filled with props, and enabled each to move
about as the action demanded. The minimal lighting was unobtrusive in the best possible
way and put the emphasis of each scene on the actors’ abilities. Likewise, the
sound design was restrained and tasteful.

Unlike the aunt in the title, this play isn’t aging well or
all that interestingly, which begs the question of why ACT INC has revisited
this script. The jokes about marijuana and sexual promiscuity (and even the
occasional profane language) land rather like quaint quips instead of the edgy bon
mots that they may have been in 1969. Some timing misfires and line flubs
notwithstanding, the obvious talents within ACT INC deserve a better vehicle.
To coin an old advertising slogan, this isn’t Greene done right, it’s merely a
trifle – Greene done “lite.”

Photo by John Lamb “Travels With My Aunt” continues at the J. Scheidegger Center for the Arts, Lindenwood University, June 22-23.

No Mansplaining Allowed – Opera Theatre’s Excellent ‘Rigoletto’ Still Relevant After All These Years

No Mansplaining Allowed – Opera Theatre’s Excellent ‘Rigoletto’ Still Relevant After All These Years

By CB AdamsContributing Writer

In a cultural marketplace that is embracing new operatic
works such as “The Central Park Five” and “The Handmaid’s Tale,” is another
production of Verdi’s venerable chestnut Rigoletto really necessary – or
even relevant?  Opera Theatre of Saint
Louis’ current production of Rigoletto provides a chorus of emphatic
yeses.

Although it can be asserted that the opera canon in general
and Rigoletto in particular is testosteroney (to borrow a line from
“Friends”), misogynistic and seemingly anachronistic in the current #MeToo
cultural climate, OTSL’s production brings to the fore the question, “Who is
the true victim of the machinations of the men in this play?”

The answer in this interpretation is clear: Rigoletto’s own daughter, Gilda. She has lived her short life cloistered in a tight ring of chastity, raised by an overly protective father (or hostage-taker, depending on your point of view), whose nickname is Transgression. She falls in first-love with the duplicitous Duke (dubbed Retribution), whom she meets at her seemingly only contact with the real world – Mass at the local church (another male-dominated institution). The poor girl. Given such options and opposing forces, it’s no wonder she believes self-destruction is the only way to escape this milieu of trickle-down masculinity.

Even before the orchestra tunes up, OTSL’s latest take on Rigoletto
begins to pull the audience members out of their comfort zone. Sitting on a
trunk, center stage in low light, is Rigoletto’s puppet, staring blankly like a
demented Charlie McCarthy dummy, a chubby-cheeked Chucky. He seems to be
saying, “Let the horror begin.”

This conceit by itself would not be enough to carry the
opera. The cast, under the stage direction of Bruno Ravella, who is making his
main season debut, is fully up to the challenge of Verdi’s memorable score and
this production’s challenging, polarizing balance. Roland Wood immerses himself
in the role of Rigoletto, the Duke’s own dummy, as a man resentfully balanced
(or unbalanced, depending on your point of view) between being a
father/manipulator and being manipulated as the Duke’s court jester. Wood effectively
leads the audience to ponder: “Should I blame you or pity you?”

As the Duke, Joshua Wheeker, is a selfish puppeteer
extraordinaire. He does not overplay the indulgent, king-baby aspects of the
role and instead offers a straightforward “what the Duke wants, the Duke gets”
attitude – and to hell with who pays consequences. His short-sighted need for
instant gratification enables the storylines of Rigoletto and Gilda to unravel.
In terms of relevance, this should be familiar to anyone who follows the
current news cycles.

Navigating (or trapped, depending on your point of view) between
a fiercely overprotective father and a hedonistic lover is the wonderful and
wonderfully cast So Young Park, a former Gerdine Young Artist. With seeming
effortlessness, Park wends through her a role that demands she be naïve without
being girlishly gushy (ala Liesl’s “Sixteen Going On Seventeen” in Sound of
Music). Young accomplishes this as well as meshes her performances
seamlessly with Wood, especially in Act II.  

Among the supporting cast, Christian Zaremba, making his
Opera Theatre main season debut, plays Sparafucile, the assassin, with reserve
and respect – admirable considering how easy it would have been to overplay the
part with squinty sliminess. Zaremba’s straightforward, transactional portrayal
facilitates the opera rather than calls too much attention to the role. Also of
note is the horn-dog horde – the male chorus that moves about the opera en
masse, providing light humor, encouragement to the Duke’s predilections (as
only good sycophants can) and locker-room banter.

OTSL’s Rigoletto is set in Paris, where Victor Hugo
set his play, which is the source for this opera. The Francophile-inspired set
design, under the aegis of Alex Eales, is understated, streamlined and
efficiently conveys the essence of each scene. The opening scene keys off a
recognizable Folies Bergere atmosphere and the inn where Sparafucile and his
sister conspire to murder the Duke is distinctly saloon-like in a Wild West
sort of way. On the surface this may seem incongruent, but the sets well within
the opera’s polarizing elements. They provide “just enough” background for the
story.

Like the set design, costume design, by Mark Bouman, does
not break new ground, but neither does it break the flow of the entire opera.
Both serve well the story being told. In Act I’s party scene, the dresses of
the dancing ladies have a pleasing Manet, demimondaines quality. Sparafucile
sports a Driza-Bone-inspired duster that makes him instantly recognizable
regardless of the scene. And Gilda wears dresses – girlish without being girly
– that befit a young lady with a conservative father. Even Gilda’s final
costume, when she is posing as man, is Chaplinesque in a way that makes sense
within this production.

Rigoletto may be one of Verdi’s workhorse operas, but
like all great art, it is open to wide interpretation. Just as Paul Simon
observed that “every generation throws a hero up the pop charts,” every
generation since the premiere in 1851 has produced a Rigoletto befitting
its times. OTSL’s is exceptionally no exception. #GoSeeRigoletto.

“Rigoletto” plays at the Loretto-Hilton Center through June 30. For more information or to purchase tickets, visit www.experienceopera.org