Displaying items by tag: Writer's Theatre

In “Two Sisters and a Piano” written by Nilo Cruz and directed by Lisa Portes,  we soon learn these two women have been trapped for years under house arrest in an aging manor in Cuba. One is a writer, the other a musician —and that’s her baby grand piano on stage. Maria, the writer (Andrea San Miguel in a darkly rich performance), awaits news of her husband who escaped to freedom in Sweden five years before, yet his letters never arrive. The musician, Sofia (Neysha Mendoza Castro is a delight) is a free spirit, chafing under the constraints of always being at home.

It is 1991. The sisters home is a decaying Spanish Colonial manor house, with colonnades and columns. A spiral staircase leads to the bedrooms above, and the Caribbean Ocean beyond is visible through the windows (Brian Sidney Bembridge is Scenic Designer.) 

The Russian policies of perestroika and increased market openness that led to the collapse of the Soviet Union, causes Russia to withdraw from its Cuban client state. Though this sounds timely given current events, playwright Nilo Cruz (who won a Pulitzer for “Anna in the Tropics”) uses the circumstances only as backdrop for something deeper. The political shift dispenses a sense of tumult and change. 

A military officer, Lieutenant Portuondo (Adam Poss), arrives on the scene carrying satchels of correspondence from Maria’s husband from his safe harbor in Sweden. Portuondo appears sinister at first, and we gather that he thinks the letters may be masking plans for Maria’s escape. But we soon learn that is not his game, as he taunts Maria, then whittles away at her strong resistance, exposing her vulnerabilities by reading selections from the pile of sometimes ardent letters. 

Her sister Sofia plays that piano at times, mostly reluctantly, but her soul is suffering as she feels cut-off from humanity. Even their radio dies, silencing their only source of news. We learn that neighbors loyal to the government monitor their activities, and no one visits. 

Eventually a permissible opportunity allows a piano tuner to be summoned: Victor Emmanuel (Arash Fakhrabadi), an open-hearted and warm fellow whom Sofia charms into returning to visit her again. 

Thus we have two parallel relationships which the playwright explores, but to my mind, not effectively. At times we have to do too much work to gather the motivations of the characters. The playwright may think them self-evident. We can see that Lieutenant Portuondo has fallen in love—perhaps because he has read so many of the letters from Maria’s husband? We get rather melodramatic expressions of aspirational longing. 

“There is something about you and your sister that’s different,” says Lieutenant Portuondo. “You’re pure.” And yet he keeps these pure beings under arrest. There is much talking about, reminiscing, but not enough action. In one such conversation, Lieutenant Portuondo says “I think people die there from looking at the cows.” To which Sofia replies, “Moo!” Which earns a laugh, but to me it also sounded like an actress trying to save a play. 

In fact the most engaging moments are those comic antics that Neysha Mendoza Castro’s Sofia drums up, along with her accomplice Fakhrabadi’s Victor Emmanuel. Nilo Cruz is a skillful playright, the sert-up is intriguing, and the turning points and rising action and resolution show up. But the most interesting parts are the relief provided by the scenes with Victor the piano tuner and Sofia, who finally cracks under the oppressive weight of her seclusion. That piano is not played enough to warrant its billing in the title. And the repetitive arrivals of Lieutenant Portuondo and the continuous voice of alarm in Maria’s complaints offer drama more on the order of soap opera—going not very far, ultimately. 

Somewhat recommended, if only for the excellence of the overall production, “Two Sisters and a Piano” runs at Writers Theatre through March 29 in Glencoe, IL.

There is an expectation when one sees a play that they will be taken on a journey. Audiences want to get lost in a story line, lose all sense of time enjoy the escapism. When an audience is reminded that they are watching a play, however, and that play goes on seemingly for ages, it ceases to become escapism and becomes a classroom lecture. “Arcadia” is just such a play. Written by Tom Stoppard, it is not an easy play to describe in brief. It confusedly intertwines the past and present with multiple story lines following intellectual theories that verge on the point of being arrogant and difficult to grasp in a play like setting.

The play bounces between the early 1800's and the present day in a stately manor in England. At the core of play, the present day is trying to uncover what took place at the manor in the 1800's. In the past, a gifted 13-year-old girl, Thomasina, delves into deep theoretical analysis of higher mathematics and physics, jotting down her theories and equations, unknowingly for the future to see. Paralleling that story line is her tutor, Septimus, who cheats with the wife of a visiting poet while pinning for the master of the manor’s wife, and who was somehow-possibly-connected to the famous Romantic poet, Byron. Flash forward to the present day where an academic hopes to uncover if the tutor, Septimus, might have had some involvement with the death of that visiting poet, and that his possible connection to Byron might mean that Byron was involved in this death as well. But wait! There’s more! Paralleling that story line in the present day, one of the family members of the estate combs through old hunting logs and notes to see that the young girl, Thomasina might have been a genius on the brink of an intellectual breakthrough, and seeks to dive deeply into her notes to potentially uncover her genius and the work during her young and short life.

Underneath all of these story lines is the running theme of “Arcadia,” named for a pair of 17th century paintings that picture shepherds around a tomb with the words “Et in Arcadia ego” on it. The incorrect Latin phrase translates to “Here I am in Arcadia” but it’s more accurate translation is “Even in Arcadia, here I am” the “I” being death. Stoppard is quoted by his biographer as saying he “wanted the presence of death in the title.” Spoiler alert, death does happen and is one of the core subplots, a sort of “who-done-it,” but it is just another element to this complicated play. Another reach for the “intellectual stimulation.”

Cliff notes would have a tough time summarizing this play. The play has witty, smart, and biting dialogue, well delivered by an articulate and charismatic cast. But look away, or miss a line and you might miss an introduction to a key character, or their relation to the other characters, or their purpose of being in the play at all. If not for the clothing change and syntax you might get lost in which time period you are in. The audience is obligated to follow along with every line and process all the information rapidly in order to keep pace with this play. With a run time of 2 hour 55 minute and only a brief 15 minute intermission that is a tall order for an audience, and even tougher story to convey for the actors. But the new multi-million dollar Writer’s Theater wants just that, for the audience and actors to meet as one, to journey together and become fully immersed with the story. The immaculate theater is nestled in the cozy tree lined streets of downtown Glencoe, and will be a wonderful location for future high-quality theatrical productions on the North Shore.

Overall, “Arcadia” would be better as a novel, where a reader can pause to examine the characters, read internal monologues and gain an understanding of the characters’ motivations and thoughts. It would be easier to follow the time changes and carefully consider the many complex theories being presented and explored. I think the length of such a book would rival a Tolstoy novel, though nothing would be lost to the wings. A play that requires such rapt and intense concentration from an audience for such a long duration makes it unapproachable to someone looking to get lost in a story. Watching “Arcadia” audiences do get lost, but for all the wrong reasons. “Arcadia” runs through May 1st. Tickets are available at http://www.writerstheatre.org.

When a play is produced as often as “Doubt,” each theatre company must ask of itself, why now? What can our company give to this work that another has missed? Over the past decade or so, it’s becoming nearly impossible to open a newspaper and not read a headline about sexual abuse in the Catholic Church. This play is endlessly topical, but can a play lose its punch if it’s overly produced? In Chicago alone we’ve seen several noteworthy companies take on “Doubt” and Writer’s Theatre is no exception.

Director William Brown has a unique vision for John Patrick Shanley’s Pulitzer Prize winner, and it’s remarkably effective in distinguishing this production. Staged in the Glencoe Union Church, this marks the first occasion Writer’s has done a site-specific engagement. It seems borderline blasphemous, but at the same time there’s nothing in the script that either supports or condemns organized religion. The highly atmospheric quality created by Brown even serves to underscore the authority of Sister Aloysius.

That said, Karen Jane Woditsch’s performance as the aggressive school principal is downright scary. Woditsch’s sharp features are constantly at work. There’s a contemplative, calculating look in her eyes throughout the show. It’s as if she sees right through you, just like she instructs naïve teacher, Sister James (Eliza Stoughton) to do. Her intensity in movement and severity in diction are on an entirely different level than the rest of the cast.

There’s a degree of ambiguity in Shanley’s text. Is Father Flynn guilty? It’s a choice the director and the actors must make. Without an actor’s certainty the role comes off as weak. Steve Haggard’s Father Flynn is very convincing, a fascinating choice considering so often Flynn’s character comes off as guilty from the get-go.

The well-being of a child is the central conflict in this briskly-paced work. The problem is the inherent coldness in this play. It’s beautifully worded, but highly mathematical in its structure. It’s too easy to be swayed by Sister Aloysius. Sister James exclaims that the school is run like a prison, and she’s right. It’s a different kind of child abuse. Given all the headlines and the tendency to be drawn to the salacious, it’s easy to overlook the lasting effects of educational system without warmth and life without grey area.

Through July 19^th. Writer’s Theatre at Glencoe Union Church – 263 Park Avenue. 847-242-6000

The Diary of Anne Frank - Writers Theatre

According to legend, when Albert Hackett and Frances Goodrich's Pulitzer Prize winning stage adaptation made its German premiere, audiences sat in a state of silent shock after the play ended. Nearly sixty years, countless productions, several films and hundreds of books about Anne Frank and the secret annex have made this story one of the most accessible pieces of Holocaust literature. In 1997, Wendy Kesselman adapted the original script for a Broadway revival that heightens intensity and includes more reference to the family's Jewish faith and to Anne's burgeoning sexuality.

Under the suburb direction of Kimberly Senior, Writers Theatre's production of Kesselman's "The Diary of Anne Frank" is as intimate as a story of this nature must be. Inventive staging immediately places the audience within the confines of the attic, fantastically designed by Jack Magaw. The Writers Theatre book store space is already intimate enough, but what Magaw has done to replicate the secret annex is nothing short of theatre magic. The tight quarters of this set paired with the vibrancy of the cast create an atmosphere in which emotional reaction is impossible to avoid.

What Senior extracts from her actors is a perfect storm of the best and the worst of humanity backed into a corner, in which the stakes really are life and death. Heidi Kettenring has the challenge of turning a mostly unlikeable character, Mrs. van Daan, into one of the show's strongest assets.  Kettenring balances warmth and tension in moments so electrifying that its current is contagious.

The title role is played by fourteen-year-old Sophie Thatcher who is the actual age of Anne Frank at the time of her internment. Thatcher plays the role with such surprising honesty and eloquence for an actress of her age. All her choices seem based on genuine instinct rather than what other historical documents tell us about the person Anne Frank was.

Despite the fact that everyone going into this play knows the tragic ending, and the unfortunate irony that Europe was liberated just a few months after their betrayal, it's easy to catch the show's infectious message of hope. The reason why this story lingers in our minds throughout the generations is its optimism. That no matter how dire the circumstances, faith in the good of people is what keeps the world in balance even when all seems lost.

The Diary of Anne Frank at Writers Theatre. 664 Vernon Ave, Glencoe. 847-242-6000. Through June 28th.