Items filtered by date: November 2007

A title like “Swing State” is certainly provocative and might suggest exactly what Rebecca Gilman’s new play is about, but oddly enough it’s not about an election. Two of Chicago’s best actresses; Mary Beth Fisher and Kristen Fitzgerald join director Robert Falls in this much-anticipated production at Goodman Theatre. Chicago-based playwright Rebecca Gilman has had a long history of collaborating with Goodman, Robert Falls and Mary Beth Fisher. This is the tenth play they’ve produced, and many have been directed by Falls and, or starred Fisher. “Swing State” is another riveting script from the Pulitzer-nominated playwright.

Somewhere on the driftless land of Wisconsin, recently widowed Peg (Mary Beth Fisher) lives alone on a large patch of remnant prairie land. When a box of old tools and a gun go missing from Peg’s barn, she enlists the sheriff (Kristen Fitzgerald) and her well-meaning but dopey deputy Dani (Anne E Thompson). They suspect a community “screw-up” named Ryan (Bubba Weiler) who Peg and her late husband had mentored. Though Peg doesn’t want to pursue it, the sheriff is relentless.

Despite its fast moving 95-minute runtime, “Swing State” takes a few hours to digest. What Gilman exceeds at is taking broad political issues and distilling them through the individual experience. Much of her parallels are drawn through metaphor. The prairie land Peg so meticulously tends to represent an uncorrupted way of life vanishing in the American heartland. Gilman also shines a light on the police ineptitude and cruelty running rampant in smalltown Midwestern communities.

Mary Beth Fisher embodies the beleaguered Peg. Her physicality tells an entire story without saying a word. Though, it’s in a single, lengthy monolog in which she effortlessly flows through the realm of emotions that she gets to the real depths of her character. Kristen Fitzgerald is also a thundering presence as the zealous smalltown sheriff, Kris. It’s clear Fitzgerald has a good understanding of the kind of corrupting ignorance plaguing our justice system. While neither character is without flaws, these two actresses have approached their roles with compassion, which serves the nuances of the ending.

“Swing State” is a shocking story that builds through quiet, often two-person scenes. Gilman does well to make her point while also staying true to her own life experiences. The title suggests that the rural Midwest is still a swayable population. In that idea alone the script points toward optimism. Peg’s character journey also suggests optimism even if the ending might seem unsettling. This is an honest play about the types of people you might meet in a small Midwestern community. There may not be an election in the play, but its looming consequences have colored every aspect of Gilman’s richly drawn world.

Through November 13^th at Goodman Theatre. 170 N Dearborn St. www.goodmantheatre.org

THE WIZARDS explores the convoluted synergy of racism and urban gentrification. From the Oregon Black Laws and the more widely prevalent Sundown Laws, America has used statutory exclusion to uphold and reinforce segregation. Chicago remains the most segregated city in America; even the heinous redlining that propelled development of the Ida B Wells [sic!] Housing Project was not enough for some: 

. . . it should have been located north of Oakwood and west of Indiana to keep the colored influence as far as possible from further encroaching on park and lake water frontage.

In the 1950’s, people living in the areas gobbled up by expansion of the University of Illinois Circle campus – largely Mexican immigrants – were bulldozed into the Pilsen neighborhood established in the 1840’s by Eastern European immigrants. Unlike many neighborhoods, Pilsen welcomed its new neighbors, and Latinos gradually became the area’s primary ethnicity. This legacy of solidarity continues today with the APO Cultural Center hosting Ricardo Gamboa’s THE WIZARDS.

The story shows Amado (Ricardo Gamboa) and Sam (Sean JW Paris), a Brown/Black genderqueer couple, moving into Pilsen after surviving a Trump-election-spurred hatecrime in Manhattan. In their new home they find an Ouija board, which Amado (a self-professed witch) insists on using. The board conjures the spirits of The Wizards, a 70’s Motown cover band: Nato (Luis A Mora), Serafin (Eliseo Real), Lalo (Elijah Ruiz), and Javi (Alvaro Noel Padilla Jr.). Freddy Mauricio steps in as Donato, Wakanda, and Sonny, and Daniela Martinez plays the dual roles of Lorena and Nurse Rosie.

As Amado and Sam receive frequent (and increasingly uninvited!) visits from The Wizards, they learn much about the band’s lives, loves, and … but no, no spoilers. Suffice it to say there’s lots more to the story, including a second hate crime perpetrated by Dan (Sam Sage), Steve (Joe Bushell) and Mike (Felipe Carrasco).  The quality of the acting is terrific throughout. I was drawn particularly to Sean JW Paris (Sam) and Alvaro Noel Padilla Jr (Javi), but that’s just me. All the actors are truly talented, particularly Ricardo Gamboa, who wrote, produced, and stars in THE WIZARDS

Audience seating is made cozy by scattering cocktail tables among the chairs. The ‘stage’, showing Sam & Amado’s apartment, is at the center, and the action occurs everywhere: in the center, up and down the aisles, on a gallery above us, and in various nooks and crannies of the room. Incredibly, this chaotic arrangement works, thanks to Director Katrina Dion, Stage Manager Anastar Alvarez (with their Assistants Sebastian Olayo and Gina Montalvo, respectively), Muralist Eduardo Lopez, and Scenic Designer Eleanor Kahn. Lighting is always a challenge in such locales but was well managed by Lighting Designer Conchita Avitia, Assistant Josiah Croegaert, and Master Electrician Quinn Chisenhall. Kyle McDermott (Technical Director) and Ellie Terrell (Props Designer) meet the challenge of action occurring simultaneously in 2017 and the 1970’s; Dramaturg Yasmin Zacaria Mikhaiel and Sound Designer Bran Moorhead keep the slang and the swing in their proper place/times, and Fight/Intimacy Choreographers Greg Geffrard and Sheryl Williams guide the smashing and the smooching.

I have a couple of critiques. First and foremost, THE WIZARDS would benefit greatly from some loving abbreviation. The play ran for fully 3 hours – with an intermission, yes, but that’s longer than The Return of the King, which even I, a fervent Tolkein-ite, found a mite lengthy. Some storylines and characters are left dangling: Nurse Rosie in Act 2 adds depth, but Lorena is superfluous – I didn’t learn (and don’t particularly care) what became of her. And wuzzup with Sam’s mom? The one mention of her is dramatic, then we hear no more from or about her. Contrariwise, some aspects could, I think, be more fully examined. Sam is African American – but why? I would have liked to see more exploration into the unique elements of Black/Brown relationships. Also, I think more could be made of how Amado’s PTSD from the hate crime informs later developments and decisions (can’t help it — I’m a shrink!).

In conclusion, THE WIZARDS is a timely and essential look at the real-life obstacles faced by all marginalized people, be they black, brown, LGBTQ+, or anyone else the White Supremacist system has chosen to ‘other’. THE WIZARDS also scores a stark line across the decades, reminding us that far, far too little has really, truly changed.

Presented by CLATA (The Chicago Latino Theater Alliance), THE WIZARDS is being performed at APO Cultural Center through November 19th. 

My major reaction to the Joffrey Ballet’s Fall season opening is deep gratitude: I feel privileged to have seen BEYOND BORDERS. I need to offer a caveat: I love ballet, but I know very little about it. Please, look to the experts for a technical critique. I offer only what I saw and how I feel about it.

BEYOND BORDERS includes three works, beginning with a revival of Liam Scarlett’s “Vespertine”, with Joffrey Cofounder Gerald Arpino’s 1978 classic, “Suite Saint-Saëns” in conclusion.  Both are exquisite in their own ways, but both are also, to my mind, upstaged by the world premiere performance of “colōrem”, from the brilliant up-and-coming choreographer Chanel DaSilva, whose 2020 ballet, “B O R D E R S”, also premiered with the Joffrey.

“colōrem” goes BEYOND BORDERS in so many ways, not the least of which is being the first mainstage work created for the company by a Black woman. As its title suggests, “colōrem” is all about color, like so many of the extraordinary topical works appearing in the 2022-23 Season. It features two sets of dancers wearing unitards (turtlenecked and including gloves and shoes) of glaringly divergent scarlet and charcoal gray, effectively blotting out both their genders and their very humanness.

The Reds and the Grays are separate and subtly discordant, reminiscent of the Sharks and the Jets … or of two rival tribes. This tribal aspect is augmented by the angled, decisive movements and by the precise, driving music by Cristina Spinei. The company’s accuracy and consonance is such that at times I couldn’t tell how many dancers were onstage until one of them moved, repeatedly forming landscapes that would be equally stunning captured in still photography.

Nicole Pearce’s lighting design is used dramatically: curtains, dividers, are created with different colored lights. One of my favorite moments is when a sliver of red light appears along the floor at the back of the stage, and Red dancers wriggle out of the red light onto the stage.

Equally compelling is Liam Scarlett’s “Vespertine”. The piece is unabashedly sensual, enhanced by shadowy stage lighting and Renaissance music – including harpsichord and baroque theorbo, if you please. Michael Hulls’ lighting dimly illuminates the ethereal atmosphere with puffball clusters of bulbs suspended from the ceiling and radiating amber moon-tones.

I already mentioned the impact of the stark leotards in “colōrem”; the costumes in “Vespertine” are also intensely powerful. In accordance with Scarlett’s vision, the dancers wear burgundy and plum: knickers with long-tailed waistcoats, and corsets under extravagant floor-length skirts. The skirts are integrated into the choreography, accenting the sensual movements with swirls and flares of lustrous silk.  Halfway through the dance these sumptuous clothes are stripped away to flesh-toned leotards – as if we are being pared down to our essential selves. 

The final, showcase piece, “Suite Saint-Saëns,” honors co-founder Gerald Arpino’s Centennial Celebration. Camille Saint-Saëns’ music divides the piece into four movements: Caprice Valse, Serenade, Minuet, and Pas Redouble. Clearly earlier than BEYOND BORDERS’ other works, yet Rehearsal Director Suzanne Lopez ensures “Suite Saint-Saëns” remains fresh and original, as the Joffrey ever strives to be. The ballet demands superlative ensemble dancing, while individually highlighting nearly every dancer’s individual mastery – a daunting challenge that Joffrey abundantly meets. Choreographer Agnes DeMille describes the ballet as ‘like standing in a flight of meteors’ – rapid and energetic, demonstrating Arpino’s signature fusion of athleticism, musicality and beauty.   

In all the productions I’ve attended in 2022, the two silent years appear to have rekindled the artists’ creative drive, and they are lavishing upon us three seasons’ worth of talent in a triumphant revival. In BEYOND BORDERS the company is, as ever, gifted, but in this performance they go beyond … well, BEYOND BORDERS, each dancer giving their all to create a unified composition. 

Each piece features principal dancers: two pas de deux by Victoria Jaiani, Alberto Velazquez, Amanda Assucena, and Edson Barbosa in “Vespertine”; Xavier Núñez and Amanda Assucena throughout “colōrem”; and a pas de trois for Anais Bueno, Jeraldine Mendoza and Edson Barbosa in “Suite Saint-Saëns” – to mention only a few. Principals, however, are icing on the Company cake in BEYOND BORDERS; find a full cast list on the Joffrey’s website. As I said, I’m no expert, but I find nothing whatsoever to criticize in the artists’ work, dancers and musicians.

My companion, an experienced stage lighting designer, observed that in “Vespertine,” the puffball globes of lights reflect the varied spotlights. In a certain configuration the wires suspending the foremost centre globe are plainly revealed. As a lighting expert they found this quite distracting. Me, I didn’t notice, but their comment deserves recognition.

Some may find the tickets a bit pricey, but hey! – it’s the Joffrey at Opera Hall!  I personally guarantee that anyone attending BEYOND BORDERS will consider their money very well spent.

Playing at the Civic Opera House through October 23.

It deserves saying again:  Resplendent  … Transcendent … Provocative

VERY Highly Recommended!

Playwright Jackie Sibblies Drury titled the play ‘Marys’ Seacole to emphasize its depiction of multiple Marys.  Jerrell L. Henderson and Hannah Todd direct the collective Marys in kaleidoscopic vignettes at breakneck pace.

Mary Jane Seacole was a British-Jamaican nurse. At the outbreak of the Crimean War she applied to the British War Office for work with the casualties. When her request was denied, she traveled independently to Balaklava and, using salvaged driftwood, packing cases, and iron sheets, set up the "British Hotel" behind the lines, where she provided nutritious food and “comfortable quarters for sick and convalescent officers”. 

Seacole came from a tradition of Jamaican and West African “doctresses”, who mastered folk medicine by treating fellow slaves on sugar plantations. These Creole doctresses prioritized hygiene decades before Florence Nightingale adopted it. From them Seacole learned to employ hygiene, ventilation, warmth, hydration, rest, nutrition and empathy.   

MARYS SEACOLE opens with Stephanie Mattos (Mary) standing imperiously in a spotlight. After a perfectly-timed silence she declares, "I am a Creole, and have good Scots blood coursing through my veins." Seacole was equally proud of her black ancestry: "I have a few shades of deeper brown upon my skin which shows me related – and I am proud of the relationship – to those poor mortals whom you once held enslaved, and whose bodies America still owns.” 

MARYS SEACOLE seesaws across continents and over time to diverse high points of Seacole’s life. The frenzied vacillation of time and space can be disorienting, time-traveling at breakneck speed between the Kingston of her childhood, the British Hotel in the Crimea, and the menial work in her old age. Accompanying Mattos on this odyssey are Duppy Mary (RJW Mays), Mamie (Mackenzie Williams), May (Jesi Mullins), Miriam (Izzie Jones) and Merry (India Whiteside).

What strikes me most forcefully in MARYS SEACOLE is the racism. When Seacole applied for a position with Florence Nightingale, the Lady with the Lamp wrote, "I had the greatest difficulty in repelling Mrs. Seacole's advances, and in preventing association between her and my nurses (absolutely out of the question!)... Mrs. Seacole introduces much kindness - also much drunkenness and improper conduct".  

Seacole disingenuously observes, "Was it possible that American prejudices against colour had some root here? Did these ladies shrink from accepting my aid because my blood flowed beneath a somewhat duskier skin than theirs?" A lodger at the British Hotel describes Seacole as "an old dame of a jovial appearance, but a few shades darker than the white lily" – this from one of her supporters!

Joe Johnson’s stark set, strategically lit by Matt Sharp with Assistant Karen Wallace, allows the characters to dominate. Costumes by Anne Wooden are fabulously period, and Ivy Treccani doesn’t clutter the production with unnecessary Properties. Fight Choreographer Jesi Mullins (who also plays May) is particularly excellent in the dustup during the final scenes. Dialect Coach Adam Goldstein does almost too good a job: the Jamaican patois is so authentic I occasionally had trouble understanding! William Massolia (Artistic Director), L.J. Luthringer (Sound), Matthew R Chase (Production), Anna Walker (Stage), and Danny Halminiak (Technical Director) collaborate to forge a seamless whole of the mercurial chronicle.

The traditional role of Woman as Healer is overshadowed throughout by the even-more-traditional aspect of racism. Mary Seacole was largely forgotten for nearly a century; when in 2016 she was honored with a statue at St Thomas’ London Hospital, controversy arose from those fixated on Florence Nightingale’s legacy.  Salman Rushdie cites Seacole as an example of ‘hidden’ black history: "See, here is Mary Seacole, who did as much in the Crimea as another magic-lamping lady, but, being dark, could scarcely be seen for the flame of Florence's candle." 

My befuddlement with the peripatetic narrative is eclipsed only by my appreciation of a masterwork superbly executed.

MARYS SEACOLE is performed by Griffin Theatre Company at the Raven Theatre

This is the fourth or fifth time I’ve seen Shakespeare’s MACBETH, though not since the 2009 Babes with Blades’ all-female-cast production. That was memorable, and continues to stand as my favorite rendition of The Scots Play. 

But Three Crows comes damn close!  Edited and most ably directed by Dusty Brown (th/th), MACBETH is Three Crows’ first production since lockdown. I’ve seen nearly a dozen shows since the lights came up in Chicago theatres. Companies are pouring the creative energy from all those dark seasons into their comeback(s), and the result is spectacular; nothing short of a Renaissance.

One issue often being addressed is gender identity. Programs include actors’ pronouns in their bios, and shows are cast without regard to gender.  And BTW, for anybody listening out there, I’m still waiting to see Macbeth produced with the Thane & his Lady cast as a male/male couple. Just sayin’!

This production puts superb actors in every role. The part of Macbeth is obviously key, and Steve Peebles (h/h) rises to the challenge magnificently, from his plaited red hair and beard to his compelling voice. His every line, every expression, eloquently express the tragedy of this brave general degenerating into madness. Though incited by witches and wife, it is Macbeth’s own long-suppressed lust for supremacy that ultimately compels him to slay his liege lord. 

Alex Amery (h/h) is a splendid Macduff, and when he proclaims “Macduff was from his mother’s womb / untimely ripp’d” I broke out in cold shivers. King Duncan is another crucial, if short-lived character, but Stephen Dunn (h/h) makes the role noteworthy, as do Brandon Beach (h/h, Malcolm), Eamon McInerny (h/h, Lennox), Richard Bronson (h/h, Ross), Nathaniel Negron (h/h, Banquo), and Kit Ratliff (th/th) as Fleance.

In addition to the eerie Weird Sisters, Hannah McAuley (sh/h), Judith Laughlin (sh/h), and Lindsey Becker (sh/h) also play Seyton, Porter, and Page, roles that exhibit Shakespeare’s customary snippets of humor. Though it’s hard to summon a snicker in the midst of treason and carnage, they truly are hilarious! But when these same players that lately provoked glee don their ghoulish tree-branch tiaras (or are those bones?), their very presence is fearsome. With their serpentine postures and ghoulish expressions, the witches hardly need invocations to send chills up one’s spine.

Catherine Councell (sh/h) is captivating as Lady Macduff. Her timid manner and extravagantly gravid belly make her violent death particularly moving.

And so I come finally to Lady Macbeth, played by Three Crows’ Artistic Director Selena Lopez (sh/h). Many actors play the Lady as contemptible, but Lopez brings a complexity to the role that gives us deeper understanding of her motives, and of the Macbeth marriage. The Queen is childless, but such is the covenant between them that Macbeth does not cast her aside. Somehow he knows he will never achieve greatness without her initiative, but they both fail to credit the decency in their souls that makes their ambitions ungovernable, so both become demented by self-reproach. And despite his fealty to his barren wife, it is Macbeth’s lack of an heir that motivates his decision to slay Banquo, whom the witches prophesied will father a line of kings. This lineage is horribly displayed to Macbeth in his remorseful specters.

Which touches on the amazing work of the Creative Team. Where to begin in such a brilliantly produced work? Set & Props Designer Kelliann Keeler (sh/h) uses the limited space ingeniously – the addition of a cistern at center stage is a clever solution to several scenes, from the Macbeth’s washing their hands to disposal of Banquo’s corpse and its reappearance as a ghost, along with the other apparitions conjured by King Macbeth’s insanity.

None of these effects could be credible without the skillful work of Lighting Designer Piper Kirchhofer (sh/h). Flashes of lightning are augmented by rolling thunder (thank you, Sound Designer Samuel (h/h) Fitzwater-Buchart!), and the lights are key to setting the mood throughout. Speaking of sound, I can’t say if Director and Stage Manager Amy Rappa (sh/h) specifically instructed the soldiers to stomp heavily during entrances and exits, but it’s effective on several levels, not the least of which is the vibration shaking my chair. Technical Direction comes from Nathaniel Negron (h/h), in addition to his work as Banquo. House Manager Sam Karpowitz kept the venue safe for the sold-out event.

Stage fighting is a challenge in such close quarters, but Violence Designer Michael Bevis (h/h) manages by staging the battles in slowed motion – a realistic approach, as the characters are using the claidheamh-mòr, or Scottish broadsword. This two-handed sword used by 16th-century Highland Scots averaged five feet in length, and its weight made it a singularly unwieldy weapon.

Kudos to Costume Designer Selena Lopez (in addition to her other trivial [sic] duties as Artistic Director and Lady Macbeth!). I do so love men in skirts! (as I once told a kilted Scotsman in Glasgow; he was so tickled he gave me a bite of his fish-n-chips – both the chips and his legs were scrumptious). And does Lopez also manage the Makeup? It’s brilliant: Macbeth’s eyes are piercing – and I already mentioned the Weird Sisters.

It doesn’t matter how many times one sees MACBETH – new productions always evoke new details to exclaim over.

At the Redtwist Theatre in Edgewater. HIGHLY RECOMMENDED

Nobody does camp like Hell in a Handbag Productions. Ensemble-developed, oddball parodies of queer iconoclasts are what they do best. For their 21^st season, longtime collaborators Tyler Anthony Smith and director Stephanie Shaw meld Barbra Streisand’s enduring legacy with Mary Shelly’s classic horror story. A cast of loveable weirdos round out the world premiere of this clever Halloween special.

Hell in a Handbag ensemble member Tyler Anthony Smith has been creating one-man shows throughout Chicago’s fringe scene for years. He’s also been a regular feature at Hell in a Handbag over the years. Tyler reunites with director Stephanie Shaw for a story that only his irreverent mind could come up with.

‘Frankenstreisand’ is the story of Dr. Barbra Frankenstreisand’s return to the stage after a 27-year performance hiatus. Only this time, she has her eyes set on a prize higher than an Oscar, a Grammy or even a Tony. Loosely based on the very real 1990s rumor that Barbra tried to have her dog cloned, Frankenstreisand intends to clone her beloved, but dead dog, Samantha. With the help of her assistants Hunchback (Dakota Hughes) and Frau (Brian Shaw), Frankenstreisand returns to the stage for the ultimate performance. Both Hughes and Shaw bring a great deal of physical humor to their quirky roles in Smith’s bizarre little script.

This festive Halloween show is a love letter to ‘The Rocky Horror Show’. The 85-minute musical features your favorite Babs songs, each with reconfigured lyrics for context (and likely to avoid copyright infringement). Streisand fans will cackle hearing these hilariously twisted versions of their favorite showtunes. With every number, deranged Frankenstreisand inches closer to giving her cloned pup the spark of life.

Smith knows his Barbra trivia right down to the costumes and together with designer Beth Laske-Miller they’ve recreated some of her signature looks. Wigs by Keith Ryan lend an extra layer of humor to Smith’s cartoon villain version of Barbra.

This play heavily relies on the audience’s knowledge of Streisand lore. Even the biggest fan might find themselves Googling certain facts as they’re leaving the theater, such as does she really have a shopping mall under her house? It’s no secret Barbra Streisand is kooky and perceived as demanding, and this makes her all the riper for satire.

Smith takes his historian-level interest in Barbra and does his own thing. Mixing in some of her signature qualities: the Brooklyn accent, the long fingernails and of course, the schnoz, he also blends in his own Tim Curry-flavored affects that lean into the more overtly sexual. This is a Barbra who doesn’t take herself as seriously.

A musical about Frankenstein and Barbra Streisand may seem like two ideas thrown into a blender with some bong water, but Tyler Anthony Smith has created a hilarious monster with ‘Frankenstreisand.’ It’s both a tribute to the great diva, and an homage to B horror movies of the 1950s.

Through October 31 at Hell in a Handbag Productions. 4702 N Ravenswood. For tickets and or more inforation, click here. 

Described as a play-pageant-ritual-celebration, WHAT TO SEND UP WHEN IT GOES DOWN is both scripted and improvised, participatory and performed – for the purpose of empowering Black People’s response to WHAT GOES DOWN: past, present, and future violence against Black People.

“IT? You know what IT is. IT is that terrible thing that happened, and that is going to keep happening.  IT always happened just yesterday and IT just keeps happening again tomorrow”

This review is really hard to write, mainly because I don’t feel qualified to judge the work. WHAT TO SEND UP WHEN IT GOES DOWN is a participatory event, its purpose to generate a place for catharsis, cleansing, and healing … for Black People. The audience is informed, gently but unapologetically, that WHAT TO SEND UP WHEN IT GOES DOWN is by Black People, about Black People, and for Black People – although all who approach with respect are welcome.

And amazingly that’s absolutely true!  There were lines / jokes / vignettes that I couldn’t appreciate, that I simply didn’t get, but at no point did I feel excluded. The moments of disconnection were my problem:  I, as a white person, couldn’t understand the significance of those lines / jokes / vignettes. The moments of exclusion were deficits in my comprehension; they were in no way generated by the Black People.

BTW, I capitalize Black People because those two words are spoken – shouted, proclaimed, cried, announced, groaned, exclaimed – frequently throughout, and the spoken words are always unmistakably capitalized.

WHAT TO SEND UP WHEN IT GOES DOWN is written by Aleshea Harris, produced by Congo Square Theatre in partnership with LookingGlass Theatre, and directed by Daniel Bryant (Congo Square) and Erika Ratcliff (LookingGlass).

The ensemble includes Jos N. Banks, Chanell Bell, McKenzie Chinn, Alexandria Moorman, Willie “Prince Roc” Round, Joey Stone, and Penelope Walker. Each and every one of this cast are extraordinarily talented at acting, singing, and dancing. Though many of the vignettes are scripted, every word is unmistakably authentic. I can’t begin to imagine how emotionally exhausting each performance must be. I feel honored by their willingness to share it with us.

On the Creative Team are Sarah Grace Goldman (Dramaturg), Sydney Lynne Thomas (Set & Props Designer), Alexis Chaney (Costume/Wig/Makeup Designer), Levi Wilkins (Lighting Designer), and Charlique C. Rolle (Movement Coordinator). Victor Hugo Jaimes is Stage Manager, Estrellita Beatriz Production Manager, and Alexis Carrie designed the costumes. 

Together, this team – production and cast – create an awesome and enduring experience.  Six days later, I’m still having regular moments of recollection and new insight; I predict these perceptions and inspirations will continue for some time.

WHAT TO SEND UP WHEN IT GOES DOWN is Highly Recommended for all audiences; for people who identify as BIPOC, it’s downright ESSENTIAL.

BOTTICELLI in the FIRE is a delight! I’ve got a lot to say about this production, but if you want to cut to the chase:  See BOTTICELLI in the FIRE!   

I’d little idea what to expect, except that queerness would be a major theme, and I’m afraid reading this review won’t prepare you for it either. All I can say is Prepare to be delighted! Or, as lead player Alex Benito Rodriguez (h/h) says, ‘Dripping with delight’.

Alex Benito Rodriguez is a good place to start. He’s Sandro Botticelli; Alex Benito Rodriguez really IS Sandro Botticelli, to a T. Though, oddly, our seatmate confided that they know Rodriguez personally, and offstage he’s quiet and unassuming. Just goes to show what a fine actor Rodriguez is, as those adjectives SO do not describe Sandro Botticelli! 

He opens the show by stumbling down the aisle with a bottle of chianti and assuring us that if he hears a fucking cell phone go off he will fucking kill its owner. He goes on to inform us that five centuries is far too long to be misunderstood; he therefore proposes to tell his story to us. Rodriguez / Sandro is completely delectable, and we’re eager to hear his story.

Kudos to Casting Directors Adelina Feldman-Schultz (sh/h) and Catherine Miller (th/th) – the entire cast meets the high standard set by Rodriguez. Yuchi Chiu (h/h) plays Sandro’s BFF Poggio di Chullu wonderfully as a sort of Cassandra, trying to warn Sandro of the perils outside his doors.  And then there’s young Leonardo da Vinci (John Payne th/th), with their très-70’s polyester bellbottoms, flowery blouse, and dreadlocks to the waist.

O. M. G.

Which is not to downplay the rest of the players! Jenece Upton (sh/h) as Madre Maria is as talented as she’s gorgeous. Andrew Cutler (h/h) is a perfectly smashing Lorenzo De Medici; I love seeing the tats on his knees when he dons shorts (plaid!) to play squash with Sandro. And his wife! Neala Barron (sh/h) as Clarice Orsini has such enormous stage presence she almost overshadows Rodriguez …. Almost.

The friar Giralomo Savanarola’s frenzied sermons are instigating the Venetian people to burn artwork and seditious books … and people. At the top of this category are (naturally) queers. Christopher Meister (h/h) is a strident and menacing Savanarola from the moment he appears with his portable karaoke machine (like those guys down on State Street), bawling imprecations on the sodomites.

BOTTICELLI in the FIRE is set in fifteenth-century Venice: it’s the dawn of the Renaissance, but Venezia is suffering a plague epidemic, with corpses littering the streets. The poor are way poor, and the rich are – well, Medicis – fortressed in their palaces and reveling in their extravagant pleasures. 

Lorenzo de Medici has commissioned his dear friend Sandro Botticelli to paint his wife Clarice. Sandro is happy to comply, but his muse is spurring him to create a highly unconventional portrait: a life-size full-frontal nude of Clarice as Venus, goddess of love and beauty, rising from the waves.

I’m going to throw in a non-sequitur here. In the mythical story, Venus is the daughter of the primordial deity Uranus, son of Mother Earth Gaia. Uranus marries Gaia (the Greek gods pulled stunts a mink breeder wouldn’t allow) and they had eighteen children. Uranus hated his kids and hid them from Gaia, who was so pissed off she gave her youngest son, the Titan Kronos (Father Time to you), a scythe made of indestructible adamantine (don’t ask, I don’t know). With this weapon Kronos castrated his father Uranus and tossed his junk into the sea. Uranus’ seed fertilized the ocean foam, and from that white foam rose Venus, born a fully-grown woman. For some peculiar reason this provenance made her Goddess of Love and Beauty.   

Educational exegesis over; back to Sandro Botticelli painting Clarice. He’s painting her in the nude, so Sandro (having but scant familiarity with female genitalia) needs an up-close view of her privates, and what better way to ponder her pudenda than cunnilingus? Clarice vigorously and repeatedly agrees.

In wanders young Leonardo Da Vinci, creating precisely the distraction Sandro does not need. John Payne (th/th) plays Leo with grace and elegance; one totally understands Sandro’s infatuation, despite its dangers. Poggio, who truly loves Sandro, pleads with him to sever both disastrous relationships, but Sandro is inexorably reckless. His sole objective is pleasure, particularly the sort that can be found inside a man’s pants … preferably Leonardo’s. 

Celebrated playwright Jordan Tannahill (h/h), the ‘enfant terrible of Canadian theatre’, wrote BOTTICELLI in the FIRE in 2016, but the correlations between 1480’s Venice and 2022 Chicago are even more relevant: plagues, bookburnings, anti-LGBTQ rhetoric legislation and assaults, and the renaissance of Chicago theatre after two years of dark houses.

Director Bo Frazier (th/th) describes themself as trans non-binary, queer, and neurodivergent – a theatre maker using imagination to tell traditionally excluded narratives. Frazier says:

As a queer and trans person watching more than 300 anti-LGBTQ+ bills introduced across the country in the last couple years, it has been both exhausting and terrifying to live in America where freedom is only meant for Christian, white, cisgender, able-bodied males.

With Assistant Director Dionne Adsdai (sh/th), Frazier directs BOTTICELLI in the FIRE from this mindset, beseeching us to battle these negative forces by doing all we can to empower queer joy. Their exceptional direction of BOTTICELLI in the FIRE is an excellent start.

The production of BOTTICELLI in the FIRE is masterful (Anastar Alvarez, th/th, Production Manager). The simplicity of the set created by Lauren Nichols (sh/h, Scenic Designer) and Theresa Lammon (Poster Designer) frees us to enjoy the play and players without being distracted by objects (Caitlin McCarthy, sh/h, Props) except, of course, the easel holding an enormous veiled canvas. Costume Designer Hilary Rubio, (sh/h) balances this simplicity by her sumptuous use of sheer, flowing and net fabrics, and anachronistic clothing.

Oi! Did someone say ‘anachronism’? I recently wrote a review where I criticized the anachronisms, but in BOTTICELLI in the FIRE the temporal bloopers are frequent, deliberate, and absolutely necessary. It’s hilarious when Sandro reads a text message from Lorenzo Medici, and music director Andres Fonseca (h/h), with Sound Designer Willow James (h/h), deliver a score that manages to blend rock, hip-hop, and Gregorian chant; I love when the ensemble chants da Vinci’s Vitruvian man’s proportions in plainsong.

And they dance, too! Singing and dancing commensurate with their phenomenal acting – this is unquestionably a multi-talented cast.

Co-Technical Directors Abbie Reed and Peter Wilde work with Stage Manager Oswald Avila (h/h) to regulate the pandemonium that regularly erupts onstage, making it both comprehensible and non-threatening – to us, any road! As for the characters, Intimacy & Violence Coordinator Micah Figuero (h/h) has his work cut out for him, and produces brutal attacks as compelling as the copulation(s!). The lighting, designed by Benjamin Carne (h/h), complemented the action splendidly; he used the spots brilliantly [sic].

What more can I say? The only negative I can dredge up is that (SPOILER ALERT!) I was disappointed there were no nude scenes. But not everyone has my taste for the salacious!

Which reminds me – like Hunter Clause’s WBEZ Rundown, I have One More Thing: I’m drawn specifically to events that feature LGBTQ+ issues; my companion is not, but she was as delighted by BOTTICELLI in the FIRE as me!

Highly Recommended!

I found DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE to be weird.

Well, it’s supposed to be weird, right? It’s a weird and spooky story about Dr. Henry Jekyll, a respectable, conventional Victorian physician, liberating his dark side: a persona named Edward Hyde, whose cruel and amoral exploits prove ruinous. Yeah. Weird. Perfect for the shuddersome All Hallows Eve season.

Robert Louis Stevenson wrote DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE as a novella in 1886; expanded to full-novel length in 1891.  There have been hundreds of stage and film adaptations of the tale, from its first stage presentation in 1887 to films starring John Barrymore (1920), Spencer Tracy (1941), Boris Karloff (1953), and many others.

Here is a new adaptation, written by Michael Dalberg and produced by Idle Muse Theatre Company, in which the issues of class and gender, intimacy and violence that clash in the original story are amplified. Dr. Jekyll and Sister Hyde ran in 1971 as a B-movie; Dalberg turns this around by casting a woman, Brandi Jiminez Lee (sh/h) as Dr. Henry Jekyll. Choosing tall dark & handsome Jack Sharkey (h/h) as Mr. Edward Hyde is significant as well. Mr. Hyde is a thoroughly loathsome character, and virtually all adaptations exhibit a face and physique to match. Sharkey’s Hyde, however, is cultured and sensual, an Edward Hyde that I found by no means repugnant – at first, any road. Which is not to say he’s a good guy! just a really slick one.

Stevenson wrote JEKYLL & HYDE to explore the dichotomy between our public and private selves, even more relevant in Victorian times than today. In the play, the dyad extends beyond Jekyll vs. Hyde.  The story is told by Jekyll’s solicitor (and admirer) Gabriel John Utterson, masterfully played by Shane Richlen (h/h), and the contrast between this worthy Victorian gentleman and the unconventional Henri Jekyll is as sharp as that between Jekyll and Hyde – in fact, I found myself scratching my head about his devotion: hie thee to Al-Anon, John Gabriel! 

Other characters mirror the good/evil dichotomy as well. Dr. Hastie Lanyon, played by Joel Thompson (h/h), friend to both Utterson and Jekyll, is the first to learn that Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde are one and the same, a grim discovery that haunts Lanyon to his death. Richard Enfield (Ian Saderholm, h/h) is another ideal Victorian gentleman; he is the first to witness Hyde committing a violent crime, while Sir Danvers Carew, played by understudy Ross Compton (h/h), is the first person we actually see Hyde slay. The assault is also witnessed by the Maid (Hanna Beth Mitchell, sh/h), an intermittent character used for comic relief. One final character mismatches Hyde: Dr. Jekyll’s butler Poole (Ross Compton), whose devotion to his master starkly contrasts with Hyde’s treachery.

So, why am I calling this production weird? To begin with, the contradiction seems to extend into the plot. I had real trouble following all the aspects of the story: murder and virtue, rape and seduction, revenge and passion, with snippets of addiction, past sexual molestation, homosexuality, and incongruous heterosexuality tossed in haphazardly.  At the interval I confessed my confusion to my companion, an ardent fan of Stevenson’s novel, and was amazed (and relieved) to learn she was equally befuddled.

And there was a large group seated in front of us who laughed extravagantly throughout (including at things I saw no humor in) – clearly they did not share our misgivings. We concluded they were friends of the cast, devoted and true, and god love ‘em for it. But they were another weird thing.

I was dismayed by the missed opportunities. For example, why, when evil Hyde was a white man and good Jekyll a Black woman, was there absolutely no mention of race? One of the reasons I was interested in this adaptation was the casting of a Black woman in the role of Jekyll, but that didn’t seem at all relevant to the play. I notice this particularly since I’ve seen Chicago theatre come back from covid with much attention on issues of racial and gender disparity, yet this production made no use of multiple openings. And, though sexual abuse is frequently alluded to, its import as a motive is relegated to a throw-away line at the end. I’d like to have seen that issue fleshed out far more. 

The production as a whole was discombobulating, beginning with the script and continuing through its interpretation by director Morgan Manasa (sh/h), with artistic director Evan Jackson (th/th), dramaturges Elizabeth MacDougald (th/th) and Tristan Brandon (th/th) [also props designer and literary manager]. There were glaring anachronisms—the Maid smoking on the street in 1885? And while Elizabeth Blackwell obtained her MD in 1849, Elizabeth Anderson didn’t become the first British female physician until 1865, yet the issue of feminism and suffrage is decidedly underplayed. And I question several choices (rock music between scenes?) made by music & sound director L.J. Luthringer (h/h), and lighting & projection designer Laura Wiley (th/th). 

I wish Jessie Gowens’ (sh/h) costumes had done more to distinguish the various Victorian Gentlemen. Carrie Hardin (sh/h), speech and dialect coach, allowed traces of Yorkshire to slip into London. Fight choreographer Libby Beyreis (sh/h) suffered unfairly by comparison to the Babes with Blades’ production of Richard III, which I saw just a few days earlier. I found the seduction scenes unconvincing, but intimacy designers Samantha Kaufman (sh/h) and Courtney Abbott (sh/h) had quite a challenge with Hyde’s despoilment of Jekyll – though I did love Hyde’s line, “Just think of it as masturbation.” In fact, I was definitely intrigued by the casting of Jekyll and Hyde as two completely different characters.

Stage managers Becky Warner (th/th) and Beth Bruins (sh/h), with scenic designer Stina Taylor (sh/h), created a set that required frequent rearrangement of all the furniture, which I found more disruptive than expressive. The remainder of the creative team are Kati Lechner (th/th), covid compliance officer, production manager Shellie DiSalvo (th/th), treasurer Mara Kovacevic (sh/h) and Gina Marie Hoskins (sh/h) in marketing.

Please remember that my description of the play as ‘weird’ is just that: my description. The cast was superb, and did an excellent job, particularly co-stars Brandi Jiminez Lee, Jack Sharkey, and Shane Richlen. And I’m always pleased when an understudy (Ross Compton) steps forward to give a fine performance.

Goodman Theatre welcomes back audiences with Lynn Nottage’s Broadway hit, “Clyde’s”. Collaboration between Goodman and playwright Lynn Nottage goes way back, including the 2019 production of her second Pulitzer Prize winner “Sweat”. This food-filled dramady is directed by Kate Whoriskey who has directed several of Nottage’s plays around the country.

Lynn Nottage was one of the busiest playwrights in New York this year, with three of her shows running on New York stages at the same time! Nottage is the first woman to have won the Pulitzer Prize twice in her career. Both of her Pulitzer winning plays have been produced at Goodman. The first play, “Ruined”, was part of Goodman’s New Stages festival in 2007. It was revived in the Owen space the following season and was awarded the Pulitzer in 2009. Since then, Goodman has produced “By the Way, Meet Vera Stark” and “Sweat” by Nottage.

“Clyde’s” was hit on Broadway in 2021, closing in early 2022. The single act play tells the story of a group of recently released ex-convicts working at Clyde’s, a grease spoon diner. The truck-stop sandwich stand is their only hope for employment, but Clyde the owner (a former convict herself) is unreasonably wicked.

“Clyde’s” is lighter fare than Nottage’s previous Goodman engagement, “Sweat”, but it doesn’t shy away from life’s grittiness. Nottage has an appreciation for the working class of America and often uses unglamorous settings to explore some of society’s deepest fractures. Main characters Letitia (Nedra Snipes) and Rafael (Reza Salazar) spend their working hours jumping as high as Clyde commands, but in between the verbal and physical assaults, they daydream about the perfect sandwich. The perfect sandwich being both literal and a metaphor for life without the unsavory baggage of former incarceration. They’re inspired by ethereal head chef Montrellous (Kevin Kenerly) who brings a sense of peace to the cook line. Kitchen dynamics change when quiet newcomer Jason (Garrett Young) joins the team.

An intimate cast led by understudy Danielle Davis as Clyde brings this seemingly simple story to life. Simple doesn’t mean shallow. There’s a lot of meat on this play. In one act Nottage does something few can do in a full length: she makes us care about everyday people society wishes to ignore. “Clyde’s” makes a statement on prison reform, class warfare, race, gender, and workplace relationships.

Danielle Davis is nearly cartoonishly evil, but she walks away with most of the scenes and laughs. We’ve all worked for someone we perceive as the devil, but Clyde might actually be Satan herself. The emotional weight of the play falls on Letitia’s shoulders and Nedra Snipes carries it well. Her budding romance with Rafael exposes how lonely it can be as a formerly incarcerated citizen. Even though these characters don’t always get along with Clyde, in the kitchen they treat each other with respect, which is more than the world treats them with.

So quickly after the pandemic did we forget about the “heroes” in service industry roles. “Clyde’s” reminds us to approach each other with respect despite background, job title or income. Nottage elevates the everyday lives of those working the hardest, and at the lowest rungs. The play also evokes a sense of gratitude for employment some would find off-putting. By having her characters dream of making the perfect sandwich, she’s encouraging all of us to keep dreaming of better life while appreciating the good right in front of us.

Through October 9 at Goodman Theatre, 170 N Dearborn Street. www.goodmantheatre.org