By Lynn Venhaus

Relevant and empowering, New Jewish Theatre’s “Gloria: A Life” celebrates one of the most inspiring women in history with a knockout performance by Jenni Ryan as feminist icon Gloria Steinem.

Ryan wasn’t initially cast as Steinem, but was announced as the replacement on May 27, a mere five days before opening night. Under intense pressure, not to mention a time crunch, Ryan admirably captures the essence of the leading lady, with gumption and authenticity.

Like others who have been called in at the last minute on productions, for the-show-must-go-on on opening night June 1, she did have a script with her, and nonchalantly glanced at it a few times, but without any awkward interruptions. She affected Steinem’s calmer demeanor while other females are venting on inequality.

Ryan was last seen at the J as the mom in “Broadway Bound” in January. This current turn is a real-life triumph when the show is highlighting women’s accomplishments. After all, Steinem refers to herself as a “Hope-aholic.”

Hope and drive permeate this work. And Ryan gets it – why Gloria matters, why this story is important, and why it is crucial that social activism continue in this current political climate.

Photo by Jon Gitchoff

But it’s not a one-woman show. Emily Mann’s play spotlights other remarkable activists who were catalysts for change in the workplace, the home, and politics in the late 20th century.

Mann, a veteran playwright and artistic director, enlisted Steinem’s participation and guidance for this play, which premiered in 2018.

Now 89 years old, Steinem’s legacy is a remarkable one, and this interpretation details how she used her voice to champion others, putting into practice her philosophy that conversations can prompt changes.

For those who weren’t alive during the rise of the women’s liberation movement in the 1960s and 1970s, this gives that time perspective and is a valuable history lesson. But the 90-minute play (without intermission) is not merely a look back at the discrimination and harassment women faced and how they found their voices in unity.

Rather, it is an urgent call to action for today’s pressing issues. Because struggles are ongoing – race relations, reproductive rights, gender equality, gun violence, patriarchy, #MeToo, other freedoms threatened and democracy in peril. (And that’s where the second act comes into play.)

During the first act of Gloria’s journey, a passionate ensemble embodies a revolutionary spirit, with six actresses playing various pioneers of an earlier era and key people in Gloria’s life.

Actress Sarah Gene Dowling is both gutsy Congresswoman Bella Abzug and Gloria’s broken mother Ruth; Kayla Ailee Bush is fiery Ms. Magazine co-founder Dorothy Pitman Hughes; and Lizi Watt is fierce Wilma Mankiller, first female chief of Cherokee Nation, among the prominent figures; and Chrissie Watkins, Summer Baer, and Carmen Cecilia Retzer take on multiple roles, wearing many hats (and scarves).

Civil rights attorney Florynce Kennedy is depicted, as are women wanting to make a difference. Nevertheless, there are some famous not-so-nice guys, people who aren’t fans, and other negative folks among the positivity.

As directed by Sharon Hunter in the J. Wool’s Studio Theater space configured in the round, the women swiftly move in and out, expressing themselves in discussion, fiery tirades, protests, sisterhood bonding, period music and dance. They reflect the conscience-raising efforts of those past decades.

Significant life touchstones mentioned include Steinem’s reporting days (of course the undercover Playboy Bunny magazine piece); co-founding the National Women’s Political Caucus in 1971 with Abzug, Betty Friedan, Shirley Chisholm, and others; co-founding the monthly Ms. Magazine in 1972; and the 1977 National Women’s Conference.

Gloria’s story portion concludes with the Women’s March in January 2017 in Washington D.C., where Steinem spoke to thousands of women wearing pink pussy hats.

Photo by Jon Gitchoff

A lively Dowling excels as “Battling Bella” – who was elected to the House of Representatives for New York City’s 19th district in 1970, and was a driving force in liberal political organizations, supporting the Equal Rights Amendment, a women’s credit-rights bill, abortion rights, and child-care legislation. (In 1974, women could finally get a loan without their father or husband co-signing it, thanks in part to Bella).

It’s also important to note that the cast and crew are all women. Scenic designer Fallon Podrazik kept the set simple for movement and interaction, costume designer Michele Friedman Siler assembled retro fashions representative of the times, while sound designer Amanda Werre created a mélange of important sound bites and familiar tunes, and there is distinct illumination from lighting designer Denisse Chavez.

Props master Katie Orr’s work was particularly demanding, replicating magazine articles and finding Ms. Magazine issues, not to mention making protest signs.

And there is a unique second act, a 20-minute interactive “talking circle,” that seeks audience participation in hopes of harnessing the energy of this production. Playwright Mann thought it was important to engage people and that these conversations could propel folks into action, pointing to Steinem’s mantra “the healing is in the telling.”

The ultimate goal is for people to learn from each other, and as Gloria has said: “This is the way we discover we’re not crazy and we’re not alone.”

Photo by Jon Gitchoff

At several performances, a local Guest Responder is launching the talking circle by sharing their own story of breaking barriers or simply responding to the play. For a complete list, visit: jccstl.com/njt-gloria-a-life.

The night I was there, State Senator Tracy McCreery led the conversation. One of the audience members pointed out that black women were at the forefront of the feminism movement, and that led to more reflections.

While it may seem that the needle hasn’t been moved that much in the past 10 years, I know that I stand on the shoulders of giants, and I am appreciative of the women who fought hard for the rights we now enjoy. After this viewing, I am optimistic, citing the words of “Hamilton”: “This is not a moment, it’s a movement.”

“Gloria: A Life” is certainly galvanizing, and the cast is enthusiastic about the stories they are sharing. It can fire up younger generations and spark renewed excitement by re-activating those Baby Boomers who recall the victories of the past. And Steinem is still fighting for human rights.

And this intimate look is another opportunity for those to marvel at how far we have come– although the work is unfinished. There are more trails to blaze and fires to put out. The play has something to say and the cast underlines it with vigor.

New Jewish Theatre presents “Gloria: A Life” from June 1 – 18, on Thursdays at 7:30 p.m., Saturdays at 4 and 8 p.m., and Sundays at 2 p.m. at the SFC Performing Arts Center, 2 Millstone Campus Drive. For more information: jccstl.com/arts-ideas/new-jewish-theatre. For tickets, call 314-442-3283 or go online at newjewishtheatre.org.

Photo by Jon Gitchoff

Addendum: Some follow-up streaming programming:

  • “9to5: The Story of a Movement” is a 2021 documentary directed by Steven Bognar and Julia Reichert,” and currently streaming on Netflix. (It won the Joe Williams Documentary Award given by the St. Louis Film Critics Association. I was on that jury).

  • CNN miniseries “The Seventies” in 2015 – seventh episode is “Battle of the Sexes.” (Max)
  •  In a 2020 Amazon Prime original narrative film, “The Glorias,” Julie Taymor directed four different actresses to play Steinem at different stages of her life — Julianne Moore and Alicia Vikander as adults and Ryan Kiera Armstrong and Lulu Wilson as youngsters.
Photo by Jon Gitchoff

By Lynn Venhaus
Emphasizing romantic symbolism along with its operatic life and death themes, an unconventional production of Tennessee Williams’ “The Rose Tattoo” is cleverly staged inside a Big Top ring, re-imagined as an Italian circus — complete with aerialists, animals, singers, musicians, and clowns.

The 1951 play is this year’s centerpiece for the seventh annual Tennessee Williams Festival St. Louis, one of my favorite not-to-be-missed events since 2016.

The Mississippi-born playwright, who spent his formative years in St. Louis, came to prominence in the 1940s, and in the decades following, cemented his place as one of the most significant playwrights of the 20th century. The festival celebrates his influence and art through his enduring works and early writings.

Always a detailed retrospective with speakers, education components, readings, films, tours and more, the fest’s fresh looks have a way of bringing out further insights during its 10-day schedule.

A bold and risky move, the exaggerated flourishes — while cinematic and reminiscent of Fellini fantasies — aren’t necessary to convey the heart of the matter, which is love in a time of chaos and the push-pull of grief, desire, and hope.

While the amusing accoutrements add to the production’s overall uniqueness, Williams’ poetic flair remains at center stage.

The nimble ensemble slips into the colorful characters that are part of an Italian immigrant community on the Mississippi gulf coast.

Williams’ play, which premiered in Chicago in 1950, became his fourth New York produced piece in 1951 after “The Glass Menagerie,” “A Streetcar Named Desire” and “Summer and Smoke.” It is his only one to win a Tony Award for Best Play.

Williams adapted the three acts for the movie in 1955, perhaps best known as the vehicle for which Anna Magnani won an Academy Award. The film was nominated for eight Oscars, also winning for cinematography and art direction.

Magnani, once described as the “volcanic earth mother of Italian cinema,” was a friend of the playwright. He wrote the part for her, considered her “the most explosive emotional actress of her generation.” But, thinking her English wasn’t up for the stage, she declined – and four years later, it was her first English language film role.

The earthy Serafina Delle Rose is an indelible heroine – suffering but not silent. Maureen Stapleton originated the role on Broadway, and Maria Tucci (1966), Mercedes Ruehl (1995) and Marisa Tomei (2019) played the tempestuous widow in subsequent revivals.

Under the Big Top, professional actress and academic Rayme Cornell commands the space as the fiery Sicilian seamstress.

Let’s face it, as written, both she and love interest Alvaro could be construed as antiquated over-the-top ethnic stereotypes. Chalk it up to dated material from 70 years ago. So, she and Bradley J. Tejeda walk a tightrope in dialect delivery.

Serafina is a complicated woman. Williams knows how to set up pain and passion, that’s for sure. Happily married to virile truck driver Rosario, Serafina discloses she is pregnant with her second child and that a rose tattoo appeared on her breast the night of conception, albeit temporary.

We never see Rosario but learn he ran black-market cargo for the mob underneath bananas and cheated with the delectably-named Estelle Hohengarten (Rachael Fox, on horseback). His life ends badly – shot, then his 10-ton truck crashes and bursts into flames.

Plunged into mourning, miscarriage, and misery, Cornell glowers, wails, and rages. In a well-worn pink slip, she deteriorates as a bitter recluse, refusing to face reality. A shrine to the Blessed Virgin Mary gives her sustenance.

You can’t tell by intermission, but “The Rose Tattoo” is a departure from Williams’ signature dramas. Considered more light-hearted, it still has his emotional whiplash.

Deep sorrow eventually yields to comedic interplay when a chance flirtatious encounter is life-changing.

That’s when the charming Tejeda swoops in as Alvaro Mangiacavallo, a buffoonish truck driver, and the play blossoms in his presence.

Tejeda, a New York-based actor and Yale School of Drama alum, has made his mark on local stages – first at St. Louis Shakespeare Festival in “Love’s Labour’s Lost” in 2019 and then the radio plays when the festival pivoted in 2020.

Last year, he brought both a sweetness and restlessness to Tom Wingfield, an extraordinary performance in the triumphant production of “The Glass Menagerie” outside at the Central West End apartment where Williams once lived.

Bradley J Tejeda as Alvaro. Photo by Suzy Gorman.

As Alvaro, he demonstrates his prowess in physical comedy, channeling Charlie Chaplin in looks and expressions, acrobatic in slapstick and darting around the set. It’s a splendid performance, injecting the play with a needed boost of vitality.

He easily won over the audience, especially when he joked that his last name Mangiacavallo means “eat a horse.”

“It’s a comical name, I know. Maybe two thousand and seventy years ago one of my grandfathers got so hungry that he ate up a horse. That ain’t my fault,” he said, eliciting laughter.

Serafina describes him as having a clown’s face on her late husband’s body. Even with their skilled performances, Cornell and Tejeda do not spark any sensuality.

But the young couple revealing an attraction that blooms into love does. Valentina Silva, memorable in Metro Theater Company’s “Last Stop on Market Street” last winter, plays Serafina’s smart, sheltered, and neglected 15-year-old daughter, Rosa Delle Rose, with youthful elan.

Stifled by her mother during the three years since her father’s accident, Rosa rebels, wanting to go out and have some fun. You feel her yearning for freedom, eager to take flight.

She is infatuated with a wholesome sailor, Jack Hunter, who was immediately smitten with the vivacious teen at a school dance. Oliver Bacus, who is quickly making a name for himself on local stages, seen last month in The Midnight Company’s seismic “Rodney’s Wife,” eloquently delivers Williams’ distinct dialogue.

Their innocent love story is a catalyst for Serafina to change, to let go, and that is illustrated by aerialists Annika Capellupo, Natalie Bednarski, Sage McGhee and Maggie McGinness of On the Fly Productions, with choreography by owner Jason Whicker. It is a lovely, graceful sight — but does this illuminate or distract?

The aerialists use satiny scarlet ribbons of fabric, which is the shade of a shirt Serafina is sewing, requested by her husband’s mistress to give her “wild like a gypsy” beau on their one-year anniversary, which is the last day he’s alive.

So much of Williams’ writing deals with symbols – consider the rose itself, with red buds a sign of romance, love, beauty, and courage. Here, it is a symbol of new beginnings too.

Understanding Williams’ dreams and desires has always been part of the fest, and the focus on Italy explores how visiting the country, soon after his first wave of success, was restorative to his psyche.

Giddy with fleeting joy and discovery of his new happy place, Williams dedicated his “love-play to the world” to his partner, Frank Merlo, an Italian American from New Jersey who served in the U.S. Navy during World War II: “To Frankie in Return for Sicily.” They met in 1948 in Provincetown, Mass., and spent 15 years together. Merlo died of lung cancer at age 43 in 1963 while Williams lived to age 71, passing in 1983.

The supporting cast captures the local flavor, and the quirky people he immortalized on paper.

Assunta, Serafina’s friend with psychic abilities, is played by Carmen Garcia with an air of mystery. She senses that “something wild is in the air.” Holly Maffitt is the “Strega,” considered a traditional witch, because the fates are part of this narrative.

Tyler White, a lively presence whenever on The Black Rep’s stage, is delightful as part of the neighborhood’s gossipy hens, as is Julia Crump as perky busybody Bessie.

Harry Weber is both teacher Miss Yorke and Father De Leo, the community’s strict moral gatekeeper.

The always fun to watch Mitchell Henry-Eagles enlivens the proceedings as an accordion-playing salesman and a doctor. Tony Viviano occasionally pops up to sing.

They serve as a Greek chorus of sorts, observing, moving in and out. Director David Kaplan likes to keep the players in motion, engaging the audience, and breaking the fourth wall.

Kaplan is well-versed in Williams’ aesthetic as one of the preeminent interpreters of his works. He is the curator and co-founder of the Provincetown Tennessee Williams Festival, now in its 17th year.

St. Louis experienced his perceptive vision in the dynamic “The Rooming House Plays,” four short plays he staged in the Stockton House, a local Victorian mansion, for the 2016 inaugural fest.

Williams’ works on longing and loss always move me more when we are in close quarters or exposed to a different canvas, so that I can feel the lyricism, make a specific connection. So, the cavernous Big Top was a challenge, but the cast’s immersion helped considerably.

James Wolk’s innovative set brought out an entirely new dimension, using multiple frames and shutters to stand in for doors and windows. The versatility punctuated the scenes, and the cast, adept at quick changes, did not lose a beat. Obviously, well-rehearsed, and efficient work by all.

The sound, however, had some issues Friday but was worked out. Designer Nick Hime engineered the sound and operated the board.

Jess Alford’s lighting design made use of dusky twilight in the early evening. Michele Friedman Siler’s thoughtful costume design differentiated the characters, and she effectively mixed textures.

This daring production has many moving parts, including four goats and a horse, which is difficult to pull off smoothly, and the esprit de corps is apparent. Stage Manager J.M. Bock and assistant stage manager J. Myles Hesse kept it flowing smoothly.

Williams was fascinated by the ebb and flow of time, which is a major component here. Between 1948 and 1959, he had seven plays produced on Broadway. This early one, however, is one of the few happy endings – because they found love in a hopeless place.

The Tennessee Williams Festival St. Louis presents “The Rose Tattoo” Thursdays through Saturdays at 7:30 p.m. and Sundays at 3 p.m. through Aug. 28 at The Big Top in Grand Center, 3401 Washington Avenue. For more information and tickets, visit www.twstl.org, and for a complete schedule of events.

The schedule includes a free showing of “The Roman Spring of Mrs. Stone,” based on Williams’ novel which he adapted for the screen in 1961, starring Vivien Leigh and Warren Beatty. It will take place at 8 p.m. on Wednesday, Aug. 24, at St. Ambrose Church on the Hill, 5130 Wilson Avenue.     

A Bocce Tournament starts at noon on Saturday, Aug. 27, at the Italia-America Bocce Club, 2210 Marconi Avenue.                          

By Lynn Venhaus

Playwright Ken Ludwig uses the written word like music in a symphony as his love letter to his parents, and actors Ryan Lawson-Maeske and Molly Burris make the heart-tugging “Dear Jack, Dear Louise” sing.

Now playing from June 9 to June 26 at the New Jewish Theatre, this dramatic comedy is an unexpected pleasure from its look back at an era of “The Greatest Generation” to its intimate love story that reinforces the power of human connection, no matter how many miles between.

With the help of the expressive performers who make the written words leap off the stationery, director Sharon Hunter has moved the pair around just enough in the confined space to keep focus on the two lonely souls forging a deep, long-lasting bond through war-time correspondence.

The challenge for Lawson-Maeske and Burris is to engage without making reading letters static, and they showcase their substantial skills for creating sincere portraits of two different personalities reaching out.

Lawson-Maeske, a two-time St. Louis Theater Circle awards nominee, for “Tribes” in 2018 and “Photograph 51” in 2020, is endearing as reserved U.S. Army Captain Jack Ludwig, stationed at a military hospital in Oregon, who writes a formal letter to Louise Rabiner, an aspiring dancer and actress in New York City, because his father suggested it. The dads know each other.

Ryan Lawson-Maeske. Photo by Jon Gitchoff

From her first response, it’s clear that Louise is a live wire, with a flair for the dramatic, and is without a filter in her missives. Webster Conservatory graduate Molly Burris seamlessly projects the Brooklyn-born chorus girl’s curiosity, grit, and sunny nature.

The outgoing Louise coaxes the more introverted doctor to share more about himself, and gradually he opens up. Thus begins a long-distance friendship that eventually turns into love over the course of several years, — 1942-1945, to be exact.

As the war escalates, so do Jack’s duties and thus, his presence in increasingly dangerous situations, as he is sent to the European front before they’ve had a chance to meet. His optimism has dissipated as he treats injured soldiers, and while Louise’s spunkiness keeps his spirits up through her caring, cheerful words, this is a love story set against the front lines of war.

As young people in their 20s, the two find common ground as pen pals, sharing their innermost thoughts and feelings. One of the warmest, most humorous exchanges is Louise’s adventures meeting Jack’s parents, his sister Betty, and his mother’s many sisters in his hometown of Coatesville, Pa.

Louise’s accounts of her audition successes and disappointments are vivid, and Jack’s frustration at not being granted a leave so they can finally meet to fulfill their plans for dinner and a show – and dancing – is palpable. Those plans keep being delayed, even by virtue of the story that we know has a happy ending, building suspense and tension as time passes (or runs out).

Before personal ads, email, texts and dating apps, people often met through acquaintances. Letters were the most common way to communicate across the miles – and have been explored eloquently in many pop culture hallmarks, like Ken Burns’ Civil War documentary, the James Stewart-Margaret Sullavan romantic comedy “The Shop Around the Corner” (remade into “You’ve Got Mail” with Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan in 1998) and the true-story based “84 Charing Cross Road” starring Anthony Hopkins and Anne Bancroft in 1987.

Quaint by today’s standards, “Dear Jack, Dear Louise” is a sentimental journey that evokes warm memories of family members who developed similar relationships. My parents first met at a local teen hangout, then wrote letters when my dad was on a naval ship in the Pacific Ocean during the Korean War and married upon his return.

Jack and Louise are relatable, therefore we maintain interest – but that’s largely in part because sparks fly between Lawson-Maeske and Burris as they are in their rooms, no small feat. You can feel the anticipation of receiving a letter, the exhilaration after the mail arrives, and how worried Louise is when she doesn’t hear from Jack while he’s treating the wounded at other locations.

Dunsi Dai’s scenic design creates a character-driven tableau through their living quarters – conveying that he’s fastidious and she’s flamboyant. He effectively contrasts Jack’s austere military barracks with Louise’s colorful, cramped boarding house room. Vintage posters of plays and movies further enhance the old-timey ‘40s feel. To move our eyes upward, Dai has hung some of their outfits.

Molly Burris. Photo by Jon Gitchoff

The technical elements are topnotch, with Amanda Were’ sound design setting the mood with retro Big Band music and creating harrowing war action through battlefield action. Daniel LaRose’s lighting design is warm and welcoming, and Michele Friedman Siler’s period costume design successfully captures the character’s personal style.

The play’s lyrical qualities are no coincidence. Ludwig, who studied music at Harvard with Leonard Bernstein, has written the smash-hit farce “Lend Me a Tenor,” nine-time Tony Award winner in 1989 and its revival in 2010, as well as the book for the Gershwin musical “Crazy for You” in 1992 and the hilarious comedy “Moon Over Buffalo” in 1995. All are set in showbiz in another decade, so he is comfortable in the World War II setting. Ludwig is a two-time Olivier Award winner, by the way.

By drawing from hundreds of letters between his mother and father, Ludwig has found the poetry in basic connection, which is timeless and also couldn’t be timelier. The well-constructed play premiered in December 2019 – you know, the Before Times – right before the world turned upside-down. If ever a contemporary work of art tapped into ordinary people having simple yet profound daily experiences to remind us of what connects us all, it is this show.

“Dear Jack, Dear Louise” delivers a joyous show, with just two people reading letters to create an honest, heartfelt moment. Expect that tears will come – get that tissue ready.

New Jewish Theatre presents Ken Ludwig’s “Dear Jack, Dear Louise,” from June 9 through June 26, with performances on Thursdays at 7:30 p.m., Saturdays at 4 p.m. and 8 p.m., and Sundays at 2 p.m., at the Wool Studio Theatre at the JCCA’s Performing Arts Center, 2 Millstone Campus Drive. For more information, call the box office at 314-442-3283 or visit newjewishtheatre.org