←

SHB Explores

Tag: alexandria mn

  • What’s in a Name?

    SHB Explores

    Theatre L’Homme Dieu is wrapping up a phenomenal summer of live theatre and music with one of my favorite musicals: Once. The story, initially developed as a movie released in 2007, was adapted for the stage and received eight Tony Awards in 2012. Adapting musicals for the movie screen has been a popular trend; however, the outcomes are often met with mixed reviews. Movies like 2012’s Les Miserables were well-received by most audiences (with a Rotten Tomatoes score of 70%) and the November release of Wicked, starring Cynthia Erivo and Ariana Grande, is highly anticipated as a box-office hit; meanwhile, despite a cast with phenomenal star power, 2019’s production of Cats has been thoroughly mocked and even reviled (with a 19% score on the Tomatometer… ouch.) The reverse adaption of movies to musicals poses interesting challenges, ranging from condensing multiple settings to one stage set, often reducing the number of cast members, and conveying emotion without the benefit of close-ups and camera angles. Oh, and of course, everything is live and no two performances are the same.

    Once is one of those rare stories which may actually play better on a stage than on the big screen, and the creative set design and lighting of TLHD’s production bring the city of Dublin to life. Whether it is a street corner, a bank office, a bridge, a bar, or another location, you know where the characters are. The best part? Because of the size of the theatre, you are there with them too, experiencing these crucial moments in their lives.

    The story takes place over the course of only one week. We watch as two strangers- “Guy” and “Girl,” both musicians- meet. We witness their lives and talents interweaving in complicated and unforgettable ways, see glimpses of what has been and what could be, and then are returned to the reality that life is as exquisitely serendipitous as it is tragically complicated. You have to see the show to truly understand, and you will be better for having done so.

    The music of Once serves as an expository device often reserved for dialogue. We learn that both Guy and Girl are separated from significant others and through the music they are sharing with each other, we understand the confusion, heartbreak, and passion associated with these relationships. Whether it’s Guy singing the lines “Ten years ago I fell in love with an Irish girl/ She took my heart/ But she went and screwed some guy that she knew/ And now I’m in Dublin with a broken heart” or Girl singing “Are you really here or am I dreaming/ I can’t tell dreams from truth/ For it’s been so long since I have seen you/ I can hardly remember your face anymore,” it is clear that these two characters are weighed down with baggage- and not just the Hoover (vacuum cleaner) that appears in multiple scenes.

    Interestingly, despite the intimacy created by the set, lighting, dialogue, and music, you only know the characters by “Girl” and “Guy.” This is a sharp contrast to the season’s earlier production of tick, tick…BOOM!, Jonathan Larson’s autobiographical musical in which the lead character bore the name Jonathan. Other theatrical works are even named after their lead characters, from Annie and Dear Evan Hansen to Uncle Vanya and a whole lot of Shakespeare’s plays, to name a few. Other characters in Once have names, so why wouldn’t the main characters?

    This is one of many paradoxes which define the relationship between the characters and between the characters and the audience. The music is raw and emotional, an open door to the inner turmoil of the characters; yet, they have just met and we have just met them as well. As audience members, we may project our own hopes for the romantic future of these two star-crossed characters, yet we only know what we are allowed to see in two hours. We witness the collision of two lives, two cultures, two worlds, and some of the hilarious and heartwarming situations in which they find themselves during their short time together. And then, as swiftly as we fell into the story, the show is over and, like the characters, we walk away cherishing the experience and memories of what happened… once.

  • Uncle Vanya and other Russian Masterpieces

    SHB Explores

    “This is not some placeholder for life. This is it! This is YOUR ONE, OWN, ONLY little life. And you and only you can make it better. Surely you can do that. And I will NOT quit calling you Shirley. So deal with that, too, bucko.”

    “Life Sucks.” by Aaron Posner

    Though I have started a few other blog posts, my mind always finds its way back to theatre and literature. Isn’t the inspirational advice given in every movie about aspirational writers to “write what you know,” said by a mentor over swelling major key chords composed for the sole purpose of emotional manipulation? And, despite being aware of this manipulation, do we not still wipe tears from our eyes as we consider the great novel that lies within each of us?

    Whether a result of pessimism or realism, I strongly doubt the next great novel exists within me. Don’t get me wrong, I do consider myself a writer. I have a bachelor’s degree in English and am the author of a few poetry chapbooks; last month, I successfully defended a 150+ page dissertation I wrote on sociocultural factors impacting employees’ self-perceptions and experiences in the workplace. (Please, attempt to cover your yawn.) None of this work is going to make the New York Times Bestseller list or be recommended by Oprah. Despite how serious my work may sound, however, I approach writing with a certain levity, which brings me to the topic of this post: Great Russian Literature.

    I can hear you asking “What exactly is humorous about Russian literature?” Yes, what exactly is humorous about it? (I’m asking you so I can avoid answering the question myself, as much of it is about dysfunctional families, alcoholism, suicide, shame, and death.) Many undoubtedly associate Russian literature with required reading in a high school or college English course. Despite the “required” element, perhaps you turned to CliffsNotes to learn just enough about the book to write a passable essay or answer questions on a pop quiz. As someone who seeks humor in even the most serious topics, when I was required in high school to present on a chapter of Dostoevsky’s The Brothers Karamazov, my group included a Seventeen magazine-style personality quiz entitled “Which Brothers K Character Are You?” Dostoevsky undoubtedly rolled over in his grave from our cavalier approach to his great work.

    Speaking of great work, for the theatrically inclined, Anton Chekhov is likely a well-known name. Along with Henrik Ibsen (of Hedda Gabler and A Doll’s House fame), Chekhov is known as being one of the founders of modernism. Despite his death at 44 years of age, Chekhov wrote four plays deemed classics: The Seagull, Three Sisters, The Cherry Orchard, and Uncle Vanya. Additionally, he has been attributed with an important literary and theatrical concept referred to as “Chekhov’s gun,” which remains a critical element of storytelling today. Much like the work of Jonathan Larson (see my previous blog post), modernists like Chekhov wrote about contemporary social, class, and political issues- not exactly uplifting topics when they were written at the end of the 19th century or frankly, even today.

    Modern playwright Aaron Posner has gained notoriety for his “sort of adaptations” or variations of novels, short stories, and classical plays, ranging from Shakespeare to Mark Twain. He has re-visioned three Chekhov plays: the play Three Sisters as No Sisters, Uncle Vanya as Life Sucks., and most hilariously, The Seagull as Stupid Fucking Bird. The titles alone provide insight into the humor- and adult language- incorporated into these revisions.

    Life Sucks., produced by Open Eye Theatre & Girl Friday Productions at Theatre L’Homme Dieu, July 23-27

    I had the pleasure of seeing Life Sucks. on opening night at Theatre L’Homme Dieu. The show came with mature content advisories posted at the theater, printed in the program, and stated in the curtain speech, but the audience seemed to wholeheartedly embrace the show and its plethora of F-bombs and emotional fireworks expertly executed by a diverse cast of characters as each, in their own way, dealt with how much life can suck. Whether unrequited love or the endless search for fulfillment, the characters’ struggles are relatable and simultaneously humorous and heartbreaking.

    Circling back to the beginning of this post and “writing what you know,” it is pretty incredible to see the thread woven from Chekhov’s original work through Posner’s adaptation. Despite living on different continents more than 100 years apart, the authors’ intimate understanding of what it means to be human transcends time, distance, and culture. Sitting in an audience full of strangers, I was reminded how truly connected we all are by our humanity and our ability to feel, to fear, to hope, to love, and to mourn.

    According to Posner’s character Babs:

    “Life is just life. Life is just exactly life, you know that, right? And we should be grateful every day for the great and mysterious gift that it is. And yet… we find the most extraordinary ways to fuck it all up for ourselves. But I don’t think it has to be as hard as we make it, I really don’t.”

    We have so many choices in how we live our lives and Life Sucks. reminds us to slow down and remember that life can suck, but it doesn’t always, and it doesn’t have to.

    As for me, I am going to strive to take Babs’ advice, and “eat every morsel of life I can before I’m through.”

  • The Power of Theatre

    SHB Explores

    “That’s the magic of art and the magic of theatre: it has the power to transform an audience, an individual, or en masse, to transform them and give them an epiphanal experience that changes their life, opens their hearts and their minds and the way they think.”

    Brian Stokes Mitchell

    Since I was young, the performing arts have been part of my life. The first production I remember attending was a touring performance of Raggedy Ann and Andy performed at the Civic Center of Greater Des Moines by The Children’s Theatre Company of Minneapolis in 1989. (I love this spectacularly dated television ad promoting the show.) Since then, I have performed in numerous community productions, worked as a high school drama department assistant and coach, and attended more than 100 community and professional theatre company productions in diverse cities including Des Moines, Minneapolis, Boston, New York City, and London.

    There are so many things to love about live theatre: the electric moment when the curtain goes up and a hush spreads through the audience, the symbiotic relationship between actors and audience members as they react to each other, the magic of words on a page coming to life by living, breathing human beings right in front of you. The impact is raw and immediate, lacking much of the precision and polish resulting from editing in movies. Live performance is human and relatable; no two performances are exactly the same, even if the same artists performed the same show in the same conditions in front of the same audience.

    For many of my generation, Jonathan Larson’s RENT provided a much-needed alternative to the opium of the masses being produced by Andrew Lloyd Webber. (Okay, yes, I had dreams of being Christine in The Phantom of the Opera… or perhaps more particularly, of being Sarah Brightman, but that is a story for another time.) RENT was for my generation what Jesus Christ Superstar was for my mother: something revolutionary, a necessary evolution of musical theatre from the Rodgers and Hammerstein tradition to something edgy and reflective of the world and the times in which we lived. Well, maybe not exactly the world I was living in since I was in middle school, but the world we were beginning to connect to through the burgeoning world wide web, a world where we didn’t have to take others’ words for what was happening or rely on the news stations’ determination of what stories merited coverage. RENT was real and raw, sweaty and sexual, angry and lonely, fearful and hopeful. RENT was the story of coming of age “at the end of the millennium,” as Larson wrote.

    Yesterday, I was transported back in time as I watched Theatre L’Homme Dieu and Artistry‘s co-production of tick, tick…BOOM! at Theatre L’Homme Dieu’s beautiful theater in Alexandria, Minnesota. tick, tick…BOOM! is a semi-autobiographical musical written by Jonathan Larson when he was an artist struggling to write- and find support to produce- a musical entitled Superbia. tick, tick…BOOM! explores the themes of adulthood, relationships, and the decisions and sacrifices made to pursue one’s passion. This 90-minute musical takes place on the cusp of the 30th birthday of the main character, Jon, and utilizes a sparce set and minimal costuming, directing all attention to the performers. The cast of the show- Matt Riehle, Suzie Juul, and Phinehas Bynum as Jon, Susan, and Michael, respectively- are a powerful trio who bring the story to life with deep emotion, unselfconscious humor, and vibrancy. Under the direction of Kelli Foster Warder, each actor’s emotional journey plays out individually and in their relationships with each other. I had goosebumps the moment the three first harmonized and they returned numerous times throughout the show. Yes, the performers are that good.

    Perhaps seeing the show merely one week after my 40th birthday made the experience particularly poignant as I reflected on my own dreams as a young adult and where life has since taken me: the friendships which persist, the relationships come and gone, the underthinking and (mostly) overthinking of decisions. In some moments, I have been Jon; in others, Susan or Michael. We can never know how things would have been different if we turned left at the fork in the road instead of right or said yes instead of no. But for 90 minutes, we can lose ourselves in the darkness of a theater, listening to the tick, tick, booms of Jon’s life in the week before his 30th birthday, celebrating the beautiful messiness of love, life, and finding our way in the world.