The Guthrie Theater is opening their 2017-2018 season (my 15th season as a subscriber!) with Shakespeare's classic tale of star-crossed lovers Romeo and Juliet, and closing it with perhaps the most popular and successful Romeo and Juliet adaptation, West Side Story. The last time the Guthrie did Romeo and Juliet was in the spring of 2004 (coincidentally my first season as a subscriber). I've seen it at least ten times now in some form or other (including earlier this summer), and not because I seek it out, but because it's done a lot. But despite (or maybe because) of the many viewings, I was still charmed, moved, and engaged by the Guthrie's new production of the classic. Because there's a reason that it's a classic, and this production, while familiar, feels fresh and modern, with an excellent cast of familiar faces and new, intriguing design, and interesting directing choices.
Showing posts with label Andrew Weems. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Andrew Weems. Show all posts
Saturday, September 16, 2017
Monday, February 16, 2015
"A Midsummer Night's Dream" at the Guthrie Theatre
Yesterday I sat on the famous thrust stage of the Guthrie Theater and watched a bunch of soldiers, lovers, and fairies dance, sing, fly, converse, love, hate, and generally cavort around in a bare circular space. Or was it all a dream? Such is the Guthrie's latest production of perhaps Shakespeare's best loved romantic comedy, A Midsummer Night's Dream, that after three hours of spellbinding theater, you're not quite sure if what you saw just happened, or perhaps, as Puck suggests in his epilogue, it was all just a dream. Artistic Director Joe Dowling has returned to an old favorite in his final season at the Guthrie, assembling a gorgeous and talented cast of local favorites with a few national talents thrown in. It's no wonder that he returned to this show (a version of which was last seen in 2008); this Midsummer is a dream of a production, with plenty of spectacle in the form of dancing, flying, singing fairies, humor in the form of typical Shakesperean hijinks, and heart in this sweet romance that ends with a neat happily ever after. Everything about it is truly a delight.
The plot of Midsummer is familiar to most theater-goers, being a frequently produced play. Lysander loves Hermia and she him, but her father Theseus, duke of Athens, has betrothed her to Demetrius, who also loves her although she does not return his love. Lysander and Hermia vow to run away together, and Helena, whose love for Demetrius has recently been rejected, tells him so that he will follow, and she in turn follows him. As we know, strange things can happen when you go into the woods, especially in this case as the young lovers encounter a group of mischievous fairies, who delight in nothing more than creating havoc among humans (if you've ever found an object in a different location than you left it, that might be fairies at work). Through a series of mix-ups, both Demetrius and Lysander are bewitched into believing they love Helena, who, like a nerdy teenager tired of being the butt of jokes, does not believe them. Hermia is confused, devastated, and then furious at this turn of events, and the mayhem continues until the fairies decide to set things right again. Another subplot follows a troupe of actors rehearsing for a play, suffering from the most horrible and hilarious actorly cliches, which allows for some delightful poking fun at oneself. Oh, and one of them is turned into an ass and is wooed by the queen of the fairies. It's a whole lot of silliness that allows for some wonderful encounters, fights, conversations, and dances among the large cast of characters.
And what a cast it is. It's so lovely to see so many familiar and beloved faces on one stage, while discovering a few new favorites who are thrown into the mix to keep things fresh. First among the many delights is the fairy King's attendant who is responsible for causing much of the mayhem. Tyler Michaels brings his unique physical consciousness to the role of Puck, creating a character that's not quite human, almost reptilian, with a bit of Gollum thrown in. Tyler seems unbound by the laws of gravity that inhibit us mere mortals, as he bounds around the stage with deep knee bends, head cocked to one side as he gleefully watches the mischief he has created, thoroughly enjoying "what fools these mortals be." He's like a mischievous loyal pet of Oberon's, who is given a long leash but sometimes needs to be pulled back when he goes too far, not for malicious reasons, but just to see what will happen. (And there's even an inside joke for those of us who saw and loved Tyler in My Fair Lady last summer.)
As the first fairy, Nike Kadri is making her Guthrie debut after making an impression on stages around town. She looks and sounds fantastic, singing a few songs and leading the fairies in their dance (although not a musical, there are a handful of original songs by Keith Thomas, with some brilliant choreography by co-director David Bolger). Christina Acosta Robinson (who returns to the Guthrie after participating in the Guthrie Experience a few years ago) is absolutely regal as both Titania and Hippolyta, fairy and human royalty, and Nicholas Carrière (a Guthrie newcomer) effortlessly transitions from the stern and slightly square Duke Theseus to the powerful and cool Oberon.
The troupe of actors is comprised of a bunch of local comic geniuses (including the always hilarious Jay Albright and Angela Timberman), with East Coast actor Andrew Weems (also seen at the Guthrie as Uncle Vanya) as the buffoonish and blustering Bottom, delivering the most ridiculously drawn-out comic death scene I've ever seen. In fact, the entire play-within-a-play is hysterical as performed by the "Community Theater of Athens." The four lovers could not be more charming (or look better in underwear) than local actors Eleonore Dendy, Casey Hoekstra, and Zach Keenan, along with Twin Cities newcomer Emily Kitchens as the eager and slightly awkward Helena.
For this production, the Guthrie has added a half dozen rows of bleacher seating around the back of the thrust stage, creating an in-the-round effect, almost like you're at the circus. If you're lucky enough to snag one of these seats (available online or call the box office for details), you're led down a stairway and into a secret hallway through the bowels* of the Guthrie, and suddenly you arrive on the stage. There are plenty of ushers and signs along the way so that you don't "accidentally" wander off into a restricted area. It's a great place from which to watch the show, although some of the effects of the video projections at the back of the stage are lost because you have to tear your eyes away from the stage (a difficult task) to look behind you at the screen. One of the reasons it's so difficult to turn away from the stage is Fabio Toblini's gorgeously rich costumes, from Hippolyta's elegant gowns, to the lovers' modern clothing, to the actors' silly get-ups, to the fairies' barely there tribal pieces.
It may be dreary bitter midwinter here in Minnesota, but it feels like warm and colorful midsummer on the Guthrie's thrust stage. The magical, mystical, mischievous dream continues through the end of March. It's not a short play (clocking in at about three hours including intermission), but it's chock full of delights for the eyes, ears, mind, and heart.
*If you want to see more of the bowels of the Guthrie, take a backstage tour, offered most weekends.
This article also appears on Broadway World Minneapolis.
The plot of Midsummer is familiar to most theater-goers, being a frequently produced play. Lysander loves Hermia and she him, but her father Theseus, duke of Athens, has betrothed her to Demetrius, who also loves her although she does not return his love. Lysander and Hermia vow to run away together, and Helena, whose love for Demetrius has recently been rejected, tells him so that he will follow, and she in turn follows him. As we know, strange things can happen when you go into the woods, especially in this case as the young lovers encounter a group of mischievous fairies, who delight in nothing more than creating havoc among humans (if you've ever found an object in a different location than you left it, that might be fairies at work). Through a series of mix-ups, both Demetrius and Lysander are bewitched into believing they love Helena, who, like a nerdy teenager tired of being the butt of jokes, does not believe them. Hermia is confused, devastated, and then furious at this turn of events, and the mayhem continues until the fairies decide to set things right again. Another subplot follows a troupe of actors rehearsing for a play, suffering from the most horrible and hilarious actorly cliches, which allows for some delightful poking fun at oneself. Oh, and one of them is turned into an ass and is wooed by the queen of the fairies. It's a whole lot of silliness that allows for some wonderful encounters, fights, conversations, and dances among the large cast of characters.
Puck and the flying fairies (photo by Dan Norman) |
the Actors (Jay Albright, Peter Thomson, Andrew Weems, Kris L. Nelson, Angela Timberman, and Michael Fell, photo by Dan Norman) |
the Lovers (Emily Kitchens, Casey Hoekstra, Zach Keenan, and Eleonore Dendy, photo by Dan Norman) |
For this production, the Guthrie has added a half dozen rows of bleacher seating around the back of the thrust stage, creating an in-the-round effect, almost like you're at the circus. If you're lucky enough to snag one of these seats (available online or call the box office for details), you're led down a stairway and into a secret hallway through the bowels* of the Guthrie, and suddenly you arrive on the stage. There are plenty of ushers and signs along the way so that you don't "accidentally" wander off into a restricted area. It's a great place from which to watch the show, although some of the effects of the video projections at the back of the stage are lost because you have to tear your eyes away from the stage (a difficult task) to look behind you at the screen. One of the reasons it's so difficult to turn away from the stage is Fabio Toblini's gorgeously rich costumes, from Hippolyta's elegant gowns, to the lovers' modern clothing, to the actors' silly get-ups, to the fairies' barely there tribal pieces.
It may be dreary bitter midwinter here in Minnesota, but it feels like warm and colorful midsummer on the Guthrie's thrust stage. The magical, mystical, mischievous dream continues through the end of March. It's not a short play (clocking in at about three hours including intermission), but it's chock full of delights for the eyes, ears, mind, and heart.
*If you want to see more of the bowels of the Guthrie, take a backstage tour, offered most weekends.
This article also appears on Broadway World Minneapolis.
Thursday, October 24, 2013
"Uncle Vanya" at the Guthrie Theater
Since I'm a Guthrie season subscriber (this is my 11th season), I just go when they send me, which for Uncle Vanya happened to be in its final week. There was not a big crowd on Tuesday night (I think the opening of the fantastic Tribes has overshadowed it), but those who were there seemed to enjoy it, including me. I've never seen a Chekhov play (not counting a production of The Seagull over 20 years ago of which I have zero recollection, even though it was my first ever Guthrie show), and honestly when I think Russian literature my first reaction is... ugh. But a few minutes into the show I realized Uncle Vanya is not at all intimidating or fomidable or dry; this adaptation by Irish playwright Brian Friel is a very accessible telling of a bittersweet story, a mixture of laughter and melancholy. With a charming set and the usual fantastic cast of Guthrie favorites and a few newcomers, I found it to be quite enjoyable - a bittersweet, melancholy, funny, thoughtful, and insightful play.
Set in late 19th century Russia, Uncle Vanya tells of a group of relations living on a country estate. Sonya (Emily Gunyou Halaas) and her Uncle Vanya (a charmingly befuddled Andrew Weems) work the estate that she inherited upon her mother's death years ago. Her ill and aging father Alexander (Robert Dorfman) has returned to the estate with his new young wife Elena (Valeri Mudek), and has plans of his own. Also living at the estate are Vanya's mother Maria (the legendary Melissa Hart, making the most of a small role), the nanny (Barbara Kinsley, so memorable in August: Osage County at Park Square a few years ago, here creating another distinct character), an eccentric family friend nicknamed Waffles (the always fantastic Jim Lichtsheidl), and occasionally the town doctor (John Catron, with another great drunken scene). It's a diverse group of characters who interact with each other, having conversations in small groups or alone on stage, talking directly to the audience.
Valeri Mudek, Jim Lichtsheidl, Andrew Weems, and Emily Gunyou Halaas |
The charming set was designed by Michael Hoover (who seems to be the busiest and definitely one of the best set designers in town); it looks like a life-size dollhouse. Three different rooms in the house are distinctly created in exquisite detail - the front porch, a living room, and a bedroom. Two of the sets are split in two and move in from either side to join in the middle. It's a delight to watch.
Uncle Vanya closes this weekend, so you only have a few more chances to see this lovely production of a classic. I'm looking forward to seeing the final play in the Guthrie's 2013-2014 next summer - the recent Broadway hit Vanya and Sonia and Masha and Spike, a sort of modern twist on Uncle Vanya. That's some pretty clever season programming.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)