"Hurricane Diane" by Rough Magic Performance Company at the Center for Performing Arts

This morning when I went for a run, the sun was an unnatural bright pink, a color I'd never seen from the sun before, due to smoke from Canadian wildfires. While it was a stunning display, it was also disturbing. This poor air quality from far away fires happens occasionally in the border state of Minnesota, but it seems to be happening much more often this year, and in places much farther away. Arizona is currently experiencing record heat, and devastating natural disasters like tornadoes and hurricanes seem to be increasing every year. In playwright Madeleine George's play Hurrican Diane (which premiered in 2017 and played Off-Broadway in 2019), the god of wine, vegetation, and fertility, known as Dionysus or Bacchus, witnesses this growing crisis and steps in to attempt to remedy it. How does he do so? By posing as a lesbian landscaper and seducing four suburban New Jersey women to become acolytes. It's a very funny play, well executed by the all-star cast and creative team at Rough Magic Performance Company, but that doesn't make its lesson any less dire. In fact, the audience being seduced by the laughter and ridiculous situations makes the stark reality that human choices and actions are making the planet more and more unlivable for humans even more shocking. Don't miss this beautifully done regional premiere of the timely, hilarious, and terrifying play Hurricane Diane (continuing at Center for Performing Arts through July 30).

"What / Washed Ashore / Astray" at Pillsbury House Theatre

In just 80 minutes, playwright Benjamin Benne succinctly writes about the experience of the death of a beloved family member with raw honesty and simple beauty. Despite the odd structure of the title, What / Washed Ashore / Astray is a very human story, with a little room for play and magic. Having recently gone through this experience, this play hit very close to home for me, and I was wiping away tears throughout the show. But it's quite lovely to see one of the most fundamental human experiences depicted on stage in such a beautiful way. Combined with wonderful performances from three of #TCTheater's best actors, an incredibly detailed set design that places us right there in the seaside cottage, and some delightfully inventive shadow puppetry, What / Washed Ashore / Astray is a must see for anyone interested in thoughtful human dramas (continuing through April 16 at Pillsbury House Theatre in South Minneapolis).

"She Persists: The Great Divide III" at Pillsbury House Theatre

For the third year in a row, Pillsbury House Theatre is presented a collection of short plays that speak to our divided nation. The 2017 collection was subtitled Plays for a Broken Nation, 2018 was Plays on the Politics of Truth, and 2019 is an all-female collection/creation called She Persists. The series has been a really wonderful way to examine what divides us in a non-judgmental, non-threatening way, while offering a path towards hope and greater connection and conversation with each other. With most theater companies planning their seasons out a year or more in advance, it's difficult for them to immediately respond to what's happening in the world. But this series allows for that, with five brand new 10-minute plays that could not be more timely and relevant.

"Stewardess!" at the Herstory Theatre

This spring, the History Theatre, which regularly produces new works of theater about local and national history, has transformed into the HERstory Theater, with three new plays by women, about women: "real women, real stories." The line-up includes a new musical about a female spy and a play about some radical nuns. But first: Stewardess! This new play by Kira Obolensky tells the true story of a real American hero, Mary Pat Laffey, who tirelessly worked for the union to improve the working conditions and treatment of then-called stewardesses, and even sued her employer, Northwest Airlines, eventually winning $59 million dollars in back pay for over 3000 flight attendants. Unfortunately we're not yet at the point of equal pay for women and men, but thanks to Mary Pat we're a lot closer. This fun, playful, inspiring play tells her story, as well as that of other feminists of the era, at just the right time. There's a growing awareness of the importance of women's stories and women's voices, and the Herstory Theatre is celebrating that.

"The Great Divide II: Plays on the Politics of Truth" at Pillsbury House Theatre

Last year, just a few months into this divisive presidency, Pillsbury House Theatre presented a series of short plays commissioned from local playwrights titled The Great Divide: Plays for a Broken Nation. Utilizing art not to judge or blame, but to explore where we are at this present moment, how we got here, and how we can move forward. One year later, it feels like we're more divisive than ever (although not without a few glimmers of hope), and Pillsbury House has yet again commissioned five short plays, this time under the title The Great Divide II: Plays on the Politics of Truth. They asked the playwrights, "What does truth have to do with our us vs. them mentalities? What is the difference between fact and truth anyway, and does it matter? What happens when our firmly embedded emotions become facts?" The result is five very different and very thoughtful plays, all dealing in some (more or less obvious) way with truth.

"≈ [almost equal to]" at Pillsbury House Theatre

Swedish playwright Jonas Hassen Khemiri's* work makes its area debut with Pillsbury House Theatre's excellent production of the odd and oddly titled ≈ [almost equal to]. But odd in a good way, odd in that it's uniquely structured and covers many topics and doesn't always entirely make sense. In fact pre- and mid-show announcements break the fourth wall a bit and tell us what to expect (or not). According to the program, the play "is a commentary on the constraints and effects of living within a capitalist economic system." A mix of economics, sociology, and family drama, ≈ [almost equal to] will leave you questioning the very meaning of money. In a world with vast inequalities of wealth, that's a worthy thing to think about in a play that's also engaging and entertaining.

"Finding Fish" at Illusion Theater

Did you know that there's a fishing crisis in New England? Being a vegetarian who never really liked to eat or catch fish, living in land-locked Minnesota, I've never heard about this issue. I've never even thought about how environmental issues affect those making their living off the sea. But I'm thinking about it now, thanks to Carlyle Brown's new play Finding Fish, now receiving its world premiere at Illusion Theater. Rather than just being a boring recitation of facts (like "from 1991 to 2003 the cod catch fell 99%," as noted in the thick program that has tons of information and resources about environmental issues, particularly those related to water), Finding Fish combines the realism of family drama with fantastical elements to create a story that's both thought-provoking and entertaining.

"The Children" at Pillsbury House Theatre

Medea. Even if, like me, you've never seen or read the play, we all know the story of the mother who kills her children. Worst mother ever, right? But maybe, as they say on Crazy Ex Girlfriend, the situation is a bit more nuanced than that. Maybe there's more to the story, maybe other people in the story see it differently. Playwright Michael Elyanow (see also the beautiful play with music Lullaby) wanted to explore the story from the children's viewpoint. He writes in the playbill, "I started writing The Children as a response play where somebody does take action to defend those kids. In the writing, the piece revealed itself to be a fever dream, a time-traveling mystery, a fish-out-of-water comedy, a theatrical event with a perception shift in every scene until we get at what the play is ultimately, singularly about: trauma survival." That's about as good of a description as I could imagine. The Children is not an easy play to categorize, but it is a wonderful one to experience for 80 minutes. It'll challenge your perception of Medea, as well as your perception of time and space.

"Prep" at Pillsbury House Theatre

It's been quite a week. Both in the real world, with yet another tragic mass shooting at a school, and in my theater world (which sometimes feels more real to me than the real world does). I started my week in theater with the Guthrie's beautiful production of the American classic To Kill A Mockingbird, about the wrongful conviction of a black man in 1930s Alabama. I followed that up with Roger Guenveur Smith's virtuoso performance in the one-man-show he created about Rodney King, whose brutal beating by LAPD officers in the early '90s led to one of the most deadly riots in our nation's history. While both of these events take place in the past, and one is fictional, there are striking parallels to the events of today that led to the Black Lives Matter movement. So it was with a heavy heart at the state of the world that I showed up at Pillsbury House Theatre last night. Having seen Tracey Scott Wilson's Buzzer twice, I knew that her new play Prep, commissioned by Pillsbury House and written after "extensive interviews with students, parents, and residents regarding racial tension in Minneapolis," would not be easy. But I was pleased that after this week of violence and injustice in the real and theater world, this one left me with a bit of hope. Yes there's plenty of work to do, but maybe, through the kindness and attention of individual to individual, we can all get along.

Prep actually reminds me more of The Gospel of Lovingkindness, seen at Pillsbury House earlier this year, than Buzzer, in that the three characters mostly speak to the audience in monologues (often responding to recorded voices), rather than speak to each other. Even when two of them are in a scene together, they often speak to the audience about each other. This device really lets us get inside each character's head to know what they're thinking and feeling. The first character we meet is "Miss" (Jodi Kellogg), the principal of an underprivileged school in an unnamed city, who sends her children to Ivy-league-like school a few miles away. But she genuinely cares for her students and wants them to succeed. She's taken a special interest in Chris (Kory LaQuess Pullam), a good student who is struggling after the recent death of his friend in a drive-by shooting. He has some disturbing ideas about how to make a statement and spur change in the community. He tells his friend Oliver (Ryan Colbert) about it, which angers him and causes a fight, leading to events that change the three and the school for good. But not in the way that you think.

Ryan Colbert, Kory LaQuess Pullam, and Jodi Kellogg

Tracey Scott Wilson has written the play with a rhythm and rhyming scheme that makes one think of Shakespeare. These three actors are all wonderful at speaking her words lyrically, yet still making them sound like natural speech. Joseph Stanley's sparse set with chain-link fence on the back wall and two raised platforms creates a simple and colorless backdrop for the story. Director Noël Raymond guides her actors well through the rhythm of the words and the story, and lets each establish their character in their own space on the stage, until they start intermingling in space as their storylines connect.

In just over an hour, Pillsbury House Theatre's Prep tackles some heavy themes of racism and violence in a realistic yet poetic way. It doesn't offer solutions so much as a ray of hope and a way to think and talk about the issues. Playing now through October 18.

"Gidion's Knot" at Pillsbury House Theater

Like Freud's Last Session, which I saw just a few days earlier, Gidion's Knot is another one of those "two people sitting in a room talking" plays. Or in this case, two people sitting/pacing/writhing/crouching in a room talking/arguing/crying/comforting/accusing. Playing out in real time, two women - a mother and her son's teacher - get into some pretty serious issues involving their son/student Gidion. It's intense, gripping, and at times painful to watch. With real and raw performances by Aditi Kapil and Laura Esping, well directed by Noël Raymond, it's extremely compelling theater.

Corryn's (Aditi Kapil) son Gidion was suspended by his 5th grade teacher, so she makes an appointment to meet with Ms. Clark (Laura Esping). But because of events that occurred in the few days since the suspension, Ms. Clark doesn't expect her to show up. We soon learn that Gidion has died, and Corryn wants to talk to his teacher to learn about his last days and the events that lead to his suspension. She's not ready to let him go and seems to find comfort in hearing about his friends and his school work. They dance around the issue, as Ms. Clark tries to put off talking about the suspension, leaving Corryn and the audience to imagine the worst. When the true story finally comes out, it's devastating. Both women have regrets, and disagree about a number of issues that come up, including freedom of speech, child abuse, and bullying. There are no easy answers and no resolution, but somehow it seems that both women are in a better place after the encounter, as painful as it is to live through.

Aditi Kapil and Laura Esping

This is another beautifully done production by Pillsbury House Theatre. First - the cast. Aditi is just heart-breaking as this fierce, strong, angry, grieving mother, and Laura takes her character from the somewhat reserved schoolteacher trying to keep things calm to really laying it all out on the line, and exposing a vulnerability of her own. The set by Joseph Stanley is an exact replica of an elementary school classroom. Bright colors, desks filled with books and notebooks, papers and projects hung on the wall, a computer corner. There's even a functional clock onstage where you can see the minutes ticking away, except that you're so captivated by what's happening that you might not even notice.

This is a rather short blog post, but I don't want to give away too many details of the plot. All you need to know is that it's an intense 90 minutes of theater dealing with issues that face kids and parents and teachers today, well-written and brilliantly acted. And it's playing now through March 23 at Pillsbury House Theatre, with all tickets "pay what you can," from $5 to $50.

"Are You Now or Have You Ever Been..." by Carlyle Brown & Company at the Guthrie Studio

... a member of the Communist party. That's the completion of the wordy title of this play, or at least one variation of it. It refers to questions posed by Joseph McCarthy and his senate subcommittee to the African-American poet and suspected Communist Langston Hughes in 1953. This new play at the Guthrie Studio Theater,* written by Carlyle Brown (who also wrote the moving play American Family which premiered at Park Square a few months ago), is about Langston Hughes and his experience with McCarthyism. But it's really about so much more. It's about who he was as a man, as a writer, as an activist, as well as what was going on in America during the time he was writing (with possible parallels to today).

Gavin Lawrence plays Langston Hughes, and it's worth noting that he starred in American Family opposite the playwright and Noël Raymond, who directs this play. These are frequent collaborators who continue to work well together. And in this case, Gavin's portrayal of Langston Hughes is one of the best performances I've seen on stage this year. He fully inhabits this character and brings him to life before our eyes. He speaks directly to the audience, looking us in the eye, engaging us and making us feel like a part of the story. He "reads" long segments of books and articles, recites poetry (with the words displayed on a screen behind him), talks on the phone, talks to himself, talks to the audience, all seamlessly and organically. I know I shouldn't be, because it's their job, but I can't help but be impressed by actors who memorize long monologues. This is basically a one-man show for the first hour. And he never stops talking and being this man. I must confess: I've never been able to get into poetry; reading a printed poem does nothing for me. And I know next to nothing about Langston Hughes. But when Gavin as Langston reads these poems out loud, I get it. He brings these beautiful words to life in the most wonderful way - he performs them, he lives them. I could listen to him read poems for two hours, and this is coming from someone who's not generally a fan of a poetry. There are lots of interesting and worthwhile things about this play, but for me it's all about Gavin Lawrence's performance.

Langston Hughes (Gavin Lawrence) and his lawyer (playwright Carlyle Brown)
respond to questions from McCarthy's subcommittee

After about an hour of this phenomenal one-man show, the action moves to the actual subcommittee proceedings as McCarthy and three others pepper Langston with questions about his poems, his travels, and his beliefs. They're seated at a high desk behind the screen, as Langston sits with his lawyer (played by the playwright) facing the audience. The questions are ridiculous and paranoid, and Langston fends them off as best he can. There's no real resolution to the scenario. Only silence as the committee members walk out. One last poem is displayed on the screen, which the audience is left to read silently to themselves.

Sometimes there’s a wind in the Georgia dusk
That cries and cries and cries
Its lonely pity through the Georgia dusk
Veiling what the darkness hides


Sometimes there’s blood in the Georgia dusk
Left by a streak of sun
A crimson trickle in the Georgia dusk
Whose Blood? …Everyone’s


Sometimes a wind in the Georgia dusk
Scatters hate like seed
To sprout its bitter barriers
Where the sunsets bleed

Celebrity Sighting
As I was looking for a seat in the general admission seating of the Dowling Studio, I spotted a sign that said "reserved for Joe Dowling."  Yes, the man for whom the theater was named, and Artistic Director of the Guthrie, was in the house!




*I received two complementary tickets to attend Are You Now or Have You Ever Been... as part of the Guthrie's "Blogger Night." 

"American Family" at Park Square Theatre

American Family.  That's kind of a loaded title.  These days the definition of "American Family" is pretty broad; family is what you make of it.  But in 1964 that definition was much narrower.  A family that's made up of a divorced white woman and her daughter, a black man, and their mixed race child, had a hard time existing anywhere in 1964, much less in Alabama.  Such is the subject of the new play commissioned by Park Square Theatre and written by Carlyle Brown.  And the result is a heart-wrenching exploration of family, love, betrayal, pride, prejudice, and the long-lasting effects of childhood injuries.

The central character in this family and this story is Mary Ellen, a 9-year-old girl in 1964 (played by the delightful star-in-the-making Megan Fischer, aka Annie).  The story begins as the adult Mary Ellen (the very talented and appealing Tracey Maloney, a newcomer to Park Square but a veteran of the Twin Cities theater scene) returns to her childhood home on a mission.  She meets and interacts with her younger self, and watches from the sidelines as her young life is changed for good, but not for the better.  Tracey and Megan mirror each others movements and expressions so that they really do look like they could be two versions of the same person.  Except that the grown-up Mary Ellen has lost much of that spark, that confident feeling of youth that everything is ahead of you and nothing can hurt you.  She knows what a tough road young Mary Ellen has in front of her and tries to warn her, even though she knows she must live through it.

In the first act, we watch along with the adult Mary Ellen as her mother (the sympathetic Noël Raymond, who directed Tracey last year in The Pride at Pillsbury House Theatre) marries Jimmy (a likeable Gavin Lawrence, who will next play Langston Hughes in the next Carlyle Brown project) and they move in with Jimmy's parents on their farm.  Grandma Richardson (the great Greta Oglesby) quickly warms to her new white granddaughter, but grouchy old Grandpa Richardson (played by the playwright himself), who is opposed to the marriage because of the difficulties it brings, takes a little longer to be "charmed" by the spirited young girl.  Just when the family seems to have settled into a kind of happiness, Mary Ellen's biological father (John Middleton, playing an unlikeable jerk) shows up to take her away, which is where the heartache (and need for tissues) begins.

The second act shows us what happens when the adult Mary Ellen meets her 16-year-old brother (Michael Terrell Brown, a promising young talent), whom she only knows from her mother's letters.  Tommy grew up in the shadow of the memories of his older sister, even though he never met her.  Both have assumptions about the other that prove to be incorrect.  Tommy's life is not easy, despite living the life that Mary Ellen wished she had, and Mary Ellen doesn't conform to the image in Tommy's head of his missing and much-missed sister.  Maybe it's too late to undo the hurts that have been done, but you can't help but wish for healing in this American family as the play ends.

I found this play to be a really moving look at a family that tries to survive when the whole world seems to be against them.  It's playing at Park Square through April 7 (if you go, be sure to bring tissues!).  And I look forward to seeing Carlyle Brown's play Are You Now or Have You Ever Been..., about writer Langston Hughes, playing at the Guthrie Studio Theater in May.

"The Pride" by Pillsbury House Theatre

I didn't know much about The Pride before I saw it.  I had seen a Pillsbury House Theatre production at the Guthrie this summer (In the Red and Brown Water) and was impressed by the play and the theater's commitment to the community.  I wanted to see something in their theater (at Chicago and 35th Street in Minneapolis), and I'd watch Tracey Maloney in anything, so I went to see The Pride.  I was blown away.  It's a great play with an important message, at times painful to watch, uniquely constructed in two different time periods, with brilliant acting by all four cast members.

The two interconnected stories feature three characters in two time periods in London: 1958 and 2008.  They're sort of the same characters (they have the same names in both time periods), but they're fundamentally different, maybe because of the culture they're living in.  With each scene the action switches from one time period to the other.  Even though the set doesn't change (except for the opening and closing of doors on a bookcase), it's obvious which time period we're in by the clothing and the way the actors carry themselves.  It's amazing to watch these actors create two such distinct and fully realized characters (not to mention the super quick costume changes).  Even their accents and way of speaking are different between the two time periods.  There's a delightful array of British accents, like watching a great show on BBCA.

Our three main characters are two gay men and a woman, and the triangle takes different forms in the two time periods due to the social norms of the time.  In 1958, Sylvia (Tracey Maloney) is married to Philip (Matt Guidry), but something is off in their marriage.  They seem happy on the surface, but Sylvia is desperate to have a child because she's afraid of being alone with Philip for the rest of their lives.  She introduces her husband to her co-worker Oliver (Clarence Wethern), suspecting, but also dreading, that they might have something in common.  They feel an instant attraction to each other, which Philip unsuccessfully tries to ignore.  They have a brief but intense affair until Philip ends it, in what may be the most realistically and painfully violent scene I've ever seen on stage.  It's a tragic exploration of what happens when people aren't allowed to live their own truth.

Fast forward to 2008 when times are different.  Philip and Oliver have been together for a year and a half, but Oliver repeatedly cheats on Philip, and Philip has finally left him.  Sylvia is Oliver's best friend who introduced the two men.  Oliver is miserable without Philip and wants him back, and Sylvia reluctantly helps him as they all prepare for London's Pride parade (hence the title).  This story is more hopeful than the earlier one.  In the second act the apartment set changes from Syliva and Phillip's 1958 flat and Oliver's 2008 home to Syliva's 2008 flat.  On prominent display is one of those photo series that spell out a word with photos of things that resemble letters, and this one spells "HOPE."  The play ends with 1958 Sylvia repeating Oliver's earlier words, that one day "it will be all right."  We're not quite at the place of total equality and acceptance of all people, but as The Pride illustrates, 2008 is closer to it than 1958.

It's an interesting juxtaposition between the two sets of characters.  In 1958 Oliver is the one who is sure of and confident in who he is, while Philip is doing everything he can to deny it and live by the standards of the day.  In 2008 Philip seems to have it all together, even a career that he loves instead of the job that the 1958 Philip is stuck in.  Oliver is the one who doesn't know how to get what he wants, and is his own worst enemy.  As I said before all of the actors do an amazing job creating their different-yet-similar characters.  Clarence Wethern is particularly impressive in his portrayal of the strong but vulnerable 1958 Oliver, and the lovable rogue of 2008, whom you can't help but root for despite his frequent mistakes.  In addition to the three main characters, three completely different secondary characters are played by Paul de Cordova, two of which are scene stealers.

The Pride, directed by Co-Artistic Director Noël Raymond, runs through October 16 at the Pillsbury House Theatre.  It's not an easy play to watch, but well worth the effort.