Displaying items by tag: Chicago

Ask yourself, do you have hope that things can get better? The word itself certainly echoes back to a different political climate in America. Now it seems the very word has been replaced with fear. Jen Silverman’s new play ‘Witch’ is holding its world premiere at Writers Theatre in Glencoe. It’s an update on a seventeenth century tragicomedy but don’t let that fool you, this play has a lot to say about our modern world.

Directed by Marti Lyons, ‘Witch’ tells the tale of the devil coming to a small village. Like all plays concerning Satan, the devil is after souls in exchange for worldly goods or successes of some kind. Ryan Hallahan plays Scratch, one of the devil’s henchman. His wile body language and delivery make him a slick salesman for the master of dark desires. For the villagers already lacking good morals, his pitch is an easy sell. He quickly pits the son of the richest man in town, Cuddy Banks (Steve Haggard) against an ambitious interloper Frank Thorney (Jon Hudson Odom) in a battle for inheritance and land.

This arc serves as the main driver of plot in this 90-minute play but the real meat lies in the battle between Scratch and the town outcast, or witch, Elizabeth Sawyer (Audrey Francis). Elizabeth begins the play with a monologue that asks about hope and explains the mundane cruelties we commit against one another. Francis is captivating. The character is sarcastic and dry. Silverman’s dialogue flows perfectly through Francis’ performance and her emotional reckoning brings about one of the play’s most powerful moments.

Finally, a play about witches that isn’t ‘The Crucible’. Silverman’s script is a lot of fun. It gets to mingle in the 1600s but enjoy the freedom and accessibility of modern dialogue. The contrast is purposeful, asking the audience, has anything really changed? Whether the play is optimistic or pessimistic is really up to the viewers’ interpretation. Either way, there are a lot of laughs here that in the end build to a greater philosophical question. Is change possible or do we have to just start over again from scratch?

If it’s something spooky you’re after, ‘Witch’ will scratch your itch. Though not really a horror story, the intricate production design by Yu Shibagaki gets into the Halloween spirit. Even with the devil, and a supposed witch, this play isn’t really about the supernatural. Rather, it relies on human meanness as the haunting theme, and honestly what’s scarier than that?

Through December 16 at Writers Theatre 325 Tudor Court, Glencoe. 847-242-6000

“A blink in time.” is a phrase repeatedly projected throughout Paula Vogel’s play ‘Indecent’ now running at Victory Gardens. The line could have many interpretations but perhaps it means that the nature of theatre is but a blink in time. Plays are ephemeral, especially where fickle Broadway audiences are concerned. “Indecent” was a critical darling in New York last year and marked the first time Pulitzer Prize winner Paula Vogel’s work had appeared on Broadway. Vogel’s ‘How I Learned to Drive’ was awarded the Pulitzer in the late 90s and is now considered a topical modern classic.

“Indecent” tells the true story story of the ill-fated 1923 Broadway premiere of Sholem Asch’s play ‘God of Vengeance’ —the first Broadway play to ever feature a homosexual kiss. As a result, the entire cast was jailed and deported on charges of obscenity. The play is a collaboration between director Rebecca Taichman (who originally conceived the idea) and Paula Vogel (whom she teamed up with to write the script). Unlike a typical Vogel play, “Indecent” features many musical numbers with instruments being played by the cast. Director Gary Griffin has kept much of the original staging for his production at Victory Gardens.

A hallmark of Vogel’s style is her use of structure and narrative. “Indecent” follows a similar pattern. Its genius is its show-within-a-show charm. The forth wall is often broken giving you the true feeling of being in a vaudeville theater. The small troupe of actors skillfully transitions between the various roles. Though all an all a tremendously talented cast, perhaps nobody stands out as much as Kiah Stern. Her character is the spirit of the play, the reason why in spite of the hardship this cast goes on. There’s something luminous in Stern’s performance. Catherine LeFrere consistently delivers the laughs as Halina.

“Indecent” touches on a lot in its short run time. There’s of course the intolerance of homosexuality and the prevailing antisemitism, but also a history of how theatre became a more established art form in the early 20th century. It’s because of plays like “God of Vengeance” and the like that the theatre has become a place where audiences attend in order to be challenged.

Anyone with a basic knowledge of world history knows that things weren’t looking good for European Jews by the mid-1930s. The tragedy of “Indecent” is that we know what happened to our troupe of actors when they were returned to the old country. One of the show’s most powerful moments is when the cast gives the final performance of “God of Vengeance” in the Lodz ghetto.

Vogel is great at non-traditional storytelling. The show is unlike any play or musical recently seen on Broadway. Its subject matter also holds a mirror up to Broadway. It asks who censorship protects and ultimately what we classify as entertainment. Director Gary Griffin’s highly anticipated regional premiere is worth the hype as this show will likely not be produced again to such high standards.

Through November 4th at Victory Gardens Theater. 2433 N Lincoln Ave. 773-871-3000

Mozart’s Requiem

Music of the Baroque Chorus and Orchestra

Jane Glover, conductor

William Jon Gray, chorus director

Saturday, September 15, 2018, 7:30 PM at the Harris Theater for Music and Dance, Chicago, and Sunday, September 16, 3:00 PM at the North Shore Center for the Performing Arts, Skokie

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 Photo by Elliot Mandel

A Regal Beginning and a Divine Ending

By the OperaSwains

A capacity audience warmly welcomed the Music of the Baroque Chorus and Orchestra and A-List cast of soloists on the opening night of its 2018-19 season at the Harris Theater, led by Maestra Jane Glover, in an impeccably well-crafted performance of one of classical music’s crown jewels, Mozart’s glorious Requiem Mass in D minor, K 626.

The program began with three anthems by George Frederic Handel written in 1727, more than a dozen years before composing his great “Messiah”, as Handel was becoming established as the preeminent British composer of his time, for the Coronation of the Hanoverian King George II and Queen Caroline.

In a brief, inspiring podium speech, Ms. Glover sparked a human touch to the evening by inviting us to imagine ourselves in Westminster Abbey for that regal occasion among the soaring arches and stately long nave which has been the scene of countless Crown events, setting the scene for us to be part of something important.  As the music began quietly and swelled, she had us.

The pageantry of “Zadok the King” was followed by the more intimate “My Heat is Inditing” (from Middle English - not a typo), with “The King Shall Rejoice” concluding the set.

The talented ensemble played cleanly and with spirit; their understanding and love of the baroque style apparent throughout.  The chorus, ably prepared by William Jon Gray, sang with musical clarity, if not clarity of diction.  The stellar tenor section was especially impressive in astonishingly accurate coloratura passages – Bravi, gentlemen!  The sopranos were silvery, at times ethereal, while the altos provided soothing warmth.  However, we wished for substantially more weight from the basses, often swamped by the low strings.  Less emphasis on the modern obsession with “blending” and greater emphasis on pure vowels would not only improve diction, but also give the chorus a fuller, more complete adult sound.

Following intermission, the chorus and a full Mozart orchestra returned for the Requiem with soprano Amanda Majeski, mezzo soprano Daniela Mack, tenor Joan Hacker and Bass-Baritone Eric Owens.  A few more choristers would have been welcome, because at times they were overwhelmed by the orchestra.

If the term OMG! wasn’t already a part of our current lexicon, it would be necessary to invent it for Mr. Owens’ performance. OMG!! He possesses the gravitas and commitment of a truly great singer. Listening to Mr. Owens is like hearing the voice of humanity, or perhaps, tasting a 50 year old Scotch. The wondrous, trumpet-like sound of his “Tuba mirum spargens sonum” spreading through the hall was one of those rare heart-stopping moments in a live performance that will not be forgotten. To ice the cake, Mr. Owens is capable of a delicately tender pianissimo usually unavailable to other voices of his dramatic weight. We can’t wait for “Siegfried” at the Lyric!

Tenor Jonas Hacker’s burnished, clarion tenor brought much more to the role than what is generally expected from a “Mozart tenor”.  It may be that standing next to Mr. Owens, he was inspired to greater heights, as his engaged and direct singing just became better and better throughout his performance. We hope to hear much more from him in the future.

No such luck on the other side of the stage; Ms. Mack’s rich, clear voice met the demands of the alto role, but the part doesn’t give an opportunity for the singer to make much of a mark.  However, she did look fabulous in her red and gold brocade strapless gown, and one could easily imagine her as a spunky Rosina or a smokin’ hot Carmen.

Beautiful voices, as the great vocal coach Peyton Hibbitt used to say, are a dime a dozen, but an artist is someone who engages the audience and communicates something.  Anything.  At the very least, the intent of the composer and the librettist.  Ms. Majeski brought nothing but her beautiful instrument to the soprano soli. 

Ms. Glover has a great command of the dynamic possibilities of an orchestra, exquisitely rendered by the gifted musicians.  The performance was enthusiastically received, albeit with the perfunctory, up-trickling, standing ovation (Ladies and gentlemen, if you can’t help yourself from instantly jumping to your feet when the piece ends, don’t bother standing until you are ready to leave…).  Nevertheless, we all were grateful for an excellent performance by this gem of the Chicago musical scene.  Get your tickets now for the remaining performances of the season, which includes Bach’s Christmas Oratorio and Coffee Cantata, among many other treasures.

For tickets call (312) 551-1414

www.Baroque.org  

Has there ever been a more capable playwright to handle bestiality than Edward Albee? ‘The Goat, or Who is Sylvia?’ is probably Albee’s last great play after a decade-spanning career that garnered handfuls of Tonys and Pulitzers. ‘The Goat’ was shortlisted for the 2003 Pulitzer and the original Broadway production even included Sally Field. While the plot may be discouraging to some theater-goers, only Albee could heighten such an absurd subject matter to dark comedy and intellectual discourse.

Interrobang Theatre Project kicks off their ninth season; “identity/crisis” with ‘The Goat’. Under James Yost’s direction, this intimate production is sleek and faithful to Albee’s script. It’s notably challenging to bring anything truly original to an Albee play as he was known to be very strict regarding artistic interpretation. With a solid play like ‘The Goat’ there’s no need to reinvent the wheel, only to stage the best production of it you can.

Yost has assembled a great cast to tell this prickly tale. Tom Jansson plays Martin, the main character around which the play takes place. Martin and his wife Stevie (Elana Elyce) enjoy an idyllic upper middle-class lifestyle, a happy marriage and a lovely home. They’re open-minded about their son’s sexual orientation and even joke about how perfect their life together is. It’s when Martin confesses he’s having an affair that the play takes a turn. Martin jokes that his mistress is a goat, but we quickly learn it’s no joke at all.

This is not easy dialogue to make convincing. Albee even somewhat references that through Stevie. Knowing is one thing, believing is another. Elana Elyce delivers a powerhouse performance as the wife of a man copulating with a farm animal. Her final monolog grounds the absurdity of the plot in a devastating reality. Though, it’s the character of Martin that the play’s authenticity relies. Tom Jansson never loses the audience. His love for the goat he’s named Sylvia is abhorrent, but like Nabokov’s Humbert Humbert, we’re inclined to root for him in some way. Jansson’s performance is one an audience can trust and laugh with, even when they shouldn’t.

The synopsis of ‘The Goat’ may seem like some sort of circus attraction to be seen only for shock value. Albee’s genius is that he’s able to touch on several kinks and sexual proclivities and put up for debate why one is acceptable and the other is not. What is the difference between love and lust? Do we have a choice about what turns us on, or is it nature rather than nurture? Even in a post legal gay marriage American, some religious fundamentalists still liken homosexuality to bestiality or pedophilia. Perhaps there are some taboos that are just too far for acceptance. Albee’s ambition was to get us to examine ourselves and to start a dialogue. This play will surely do that.

Through October 6th at Ridendell Theatre. 5779 N Ridge Ave. 312-219-4140

Who doesn’t like magic? I love to be fooled just as much as the person next to me. Make me believe in supernatural powers and I’ll admire everything that’s dished out, even if some of it is a little loose and perhaps lacks a certain showmanship. Well, magician Brett Schneider accomplishes just that: he’ll blow your mind and make you believe in real magic; he’ll guess your innermost thoughts (or is it outermost thoughts, since he asks you to have them on the forefront of your mind)? I don’t know how that works, I was very impressed with his mentalist techniques. The only thing is: I can’t say that I was visually bedazzled, but then again, I need a real spectacle. Brett’s style is very down to earth, unassumingly casual, there’s really no eye candy of any kind, just a simple stage surrounded by the audience, which he boldly promises to unite in the name of magic. Everyone gets involved before the show even starts: you’ll be handed small pieces of paper and pencils and asked to write stuff down and then place them in a glass bowl. The audience is an active participant in most tricks, and everyone is delighted to oblige. It’s a great show in its own right.

Brett Schneider has been performing magic professionally for over 20 years. His work has received numerous awards; he’s also an actor who has worked with Steppenwolf, The Goodman, Lookingglass, Roundabout Theatre, Actors Theatre Louisville, and many others around the country.

A one-man show, Communion: An Evening of Magic is written and performed by Brett Schneider and directed by Elana Boulos. It plays September 13-22, 2018 at The Den Theatre’s Upstairs Main Stage; there’re only 6 performances currently scheduled. Tickets are available at thedentheatre.com. Recommended for ages 13 and up.

There’s something so effortlessly optimistic in the way the old meets the new in the charmingly vintage Chopin Theater. And it’s just the perfect fit for The House Theatre of Chicago that calls Chopin Theatre home. The House Theatre’s 17th season opens with a brand-new work written by guest artist Bennett Fisher and directed by Monty Cole, Borealis.

The main character of the play, a spunky thirteen-year-old girl named Cosbi (played by Tia Pinson) lives in an old rickety house with her brother Absalom, who works for an oil-mining corporation. Absalom’s part is played by The House Theatre’s veteran Desmond Grey, whose credits include The Nutcracker, Hatfield and McCoy, Death and Harry Houdini, as well as many others. When one day Absalom goes to work on the oil fields but then fails to come home, instead sending his sister a heavily redacted letter, worried Cosbi immediately sets off for Anwar, Alaska to find him. Armed with a sharp axe and a strong will to succeed, she makes her way through the jungles of the corporate world, encountering some hilariously bizarre corporate types (wearing cool outfits (design by Izumi Inaba) ) along the way. Some helpful employee at the corporation gives her a very important book on corporate communication strategy, and it proves indispensable. The vague language of the book works like magic, as no one is quite sure of what those words and phrases really mean, for as long as they sound authoritative enough. In Borealis a fairy-tale-like world is superimposed on the reality of Corporate America. Protocols need to be observed, the right pass will get you through the door, and coffee is the most important fuel. A highly coveted pastry (it sounded like a more complicated version of a cronut) can make or break your day. Corporate America never looked more fun.

The rest of the seven actors cast are Johnny Arena (Death and Harry Houdini, The Sparrow), Ben Hertel (Death and Harry Houdini, A Comedical Tragedy for Mister Punch, etc.), Paige Hoffman (Cave with Man, The Sparrow), MckKnzie Chinn (The House debut) and Karissa Murrel Myers (The House debut), some of them playing multiple parts. Scenic design by Eleanor Kahn deserves a special mention. A narrow catwalk-like stage is equipped with a wild mechanized contraption that is capable of unfolding, effectively turning itself into an extra stage, or simply used as a prop in a scene. Walls move and doors get spun around, creating an illusion of extra space and speed in the chase scene.

The House Theatre’s Borealis is being performed at Chopin Theatre through October 21st. For more information visit www.thehousetheatre.com.

Literary adaptation for the stage can be tricky. Even trickier is bringing the complex work of Dostoyevsky from the page to the stage. Shattered Globe opens its season with Chris Hannan’s 2013 version of ‘Crime and Punishment’. Under the direction of Louis Contey, this unique production is fresh and exciting.

As anyone who has read the lengthy novel by Fyoder Dostoyevsky can attest, this is not an easy work to muddle through. While not the most accessible novel, those who take on the challenge will surely be rewarded by richly drawn, and somewhat disturbing scenes that linger in the memory. Hannan’s script gets right to the point. Instead of long passages of internal monologue, his Raskolnikov (Drew Schad) has fever dream conversations with the people in his life. This device ensures a much more engaging presentation, though Schad is entirely capable of carrying the monologs on his own.

Between Hannan’s script and Contey’s vision, there’s a very artful quality to this production. Unlike the novel, the plot of this play is easy to follow. The ethical debates Raskolnikov has in his head are shortened and the scene work is very strong. The murdered pawnbroker is played by Daria Harper. In her scenes with Schad, she’s nearly diabolically evil. She represents the greedy reality of the world in which Raskolnikov lives. Conversely, Harper is perfectly double cast as doting mother Pulkheria Alexandrovna. Christina Gorman plays his sister Dunya with the same grace and elegance she consistently delivers in Shattered Globe productions. Rebecca Jordan brings to life one of the novel’s most unpleasant characters, the wife of a drunkard who’s killed by an unconcerned buggy driver. Watching her unravel throughout the play is unsettling and heartbreaking.

With a peak interest in true crime shows and podcasts, ‘Crime and Punishment’ is very timely. It asks its audience whether religious morality or utility should be the guiding compass in life. Hannan, like Dostoyevsky, seems to believe that an action should be judged by its usefulness rather than its means. What we have here is a play that works to convince its audience that we should be sympathetic to a cold-blooded murderer. And it works. By the end of the play you’re on the murderer’s side. Perhaps the next time you turn on 48 Hours, put yourself in the killer’s shoes rather than the victims. Would you see it differently? Does anyone have a right to murder?

Shattered Globe dispenses with all the clichés of literary adaption and serves up an emotionally powerful interpretation of ‘Crime & Punishment’. Great performances and non-traditional storytelling make this a definitive adaption. Those who were not fans of the novel in school may find that there’s more to this story for our times than we’d like to admit.

Through October 20 at Shattered Globe Theatre. Theatre Wit, 1229 W Belmont Ave, 773-975-8150

Common sense dictates doing the right thing. On the surface, that seems obvious, but in August Wilson’s final play, Radio Golf, which premiered in 2005 and is receiving a timely and propulsive revival at Court Theatre, this is not at all clear. Though the characters are archetypal, and the situations contrived, it is precisely these extremes that cast the arguments of the play into sharp relief. What makes sense? No matter which side you choose in this examination of urban redevelopment, there is no outcome that benefits the residents of the Hill District or the protagonists of Wilson’s play, because no matter how far they have come, no matter what their ideals, it is 1997 and they are black and living in a racist America. Unfortunately, Wilson’s play has aged well—though broadly drawn, the events of the play are no less a reflection of American realities than they were two decades ago.

According to the program, director Ron OJ Parson has directed 25 productions of August Wilson’s plays. This is evident in his assured, lyrical work on this production. The characters are detailed, and the poetry of Wilson’s language emerges from the physical language of the blocking, so that the cracks in the sometimes conventional structure do not emerge until long after the final blackout. Though he allows Wilson’s humor to suffuse the evening, Parson has created a powerful and engrossing dialectic that offers much food for thought and few answers. Parson’s interpretation creates a sense of community and warm comradery among the characters, which accentuates the fact that the real threat lies beyond the action onstage. Given the surging poetry of Wilson’s script, it seems that this is the production that Wilson was writing to receive. Parson’s vision is complemented by a design team that is equally meticulous, setting the scene with unobtrusive but finely tuned details. Scenic designer Jack Magaw has created a grimy but well-appointed ground floor office for the Bedford Hills Development, Inc., jammed between neighboring buildings and accessed by a concrete stairwell. There are hints of the grandeur of the past in the tin ceiling and bay window, but the green-painted walls are stained, and the linoleum floor is more practical than elegant. Claire Chrzan lights most of the interior scenes in harsh, bright light, occasionally softened by practicals. She subtly shifts between moods and time, extending the magical realism to the windows of neighboring residences. Costume designer Rachel Anne Healy creates a period-perfect uniform for each character that allows each to evolve according to their fortunes, without veering into caricature. Sound designer Christopher M. LaPorte uses a funk-injected jazz score to set the tone, as well as contributing cool radio tracks and jarring sounds that invade the relative sanctuary of the office from the outside.

The cast of Radio Golf is uniformly excellent. As Harmond Wilks, the real estate developer hoping to bring back Pittsburgh’s Hill District while launching his bid to be mayor of both black and white citizens of the city, Allen Gilmore lends an Obama-esque, unruffled cool to his idealistic character, which gives way to almost petulant panic when he finds himself fighting for a future that seemed more secure than it turns out to be. As his golf-playing partner and newly-minted bank vice president Roosevelt Hicks, James Vincent Meredith is smoothly overbearing and casually abusive, while maintaining a boyish charm and ambition—he goes far enough in his self-serving tirades to draw derision but retains enough humanity to elicit sympathy. As Wilks’ wife, Mame Wilks, Ann Joseph is warm, no-nonsense and imperious; her attempt to open her husband’s eyes to the consequences of his choices for them both is heart-wrenching and powerful. Alfred H. Wilson plays Elder Joseph Barlow with a kinetic physicality that mirrors his scattershot philosophizing, rarely pausing as he reveals a strong gravitational center to his wandering thoughts. James T. Alfred brings comic timing and a self-aware physicality to the almost excessively forthright ex-con Sterling Johnson, who, while he has stopped punching everyone in the mouth to make himself feel good, still seems perfectly capable of doing so if he sees a need. As Wilks finds himself entangled in bonds that he thought had dissolved long ago, and Hicks finds himself presented with ways to turn his race into an asset, the battle lines are drawn, and it becomes clear that all the characters are casualties of a war that is being waged for profit by others, but there are promotions to be had if they join the winning side. As an ensemble, all the actors find the humor and good will in their characters, without allowing them to become bathetic or cartoonish. Though sometimes broadly drawn, each character finds his or her dignity in the sensitive and emotionally grounded portrayals onstage at Court.

Radio Golf alternates between laugh-out-loud (though at times decidedly un-PC) humor and incisive social commentary, spot-on examinations of familial and geographic loyalties and nearly stereotypical portraits of the members of a community and the different paths they take, and director Ron OJ Parsons and his expert cast, supported by a perfectly tuned design team, weave the tonal shifts into powerful, perfectly modulated quintet. On the surface, August Wilson’s final work may seem less haunting and lyrical than the previous plays of the ten-play Century Cycle that it completed, but this production belies that impression. Though some elements may seem facile, when the curtain comes down, one realizes that Wilson left behind a complex and uncompromising challenge for his audience. Wilson was an American who wrote about his country with awe, humor, rigor and compassion. In Radio Golf, he took on the issue of gentrification and redevelopment, and what happens when revitalization becomes disenfranchisement. In Court Theatre’s production, the play is an entertaining, empathetic and unyielding plea for doing the right thing, especially for those who wield the power to do so.

Radio Golf runs through September 30 at Court Theatre, 5535 S. Ellis Avenue, Chicago. Tickets, priced $50 - $74, are available at the Court Theatre Box Office, but calling (773)753-4472, or online at www.CourtTheatre.org.

I had asked to cover this play. “Monger: The Awakening of J.B. Benton” is Her Story Theatre’s fourth play in their “Chicago Sex Trafficking Cycle” series. It is an important topic that needs far more attention than it receives and playwright Mary Bonnett’s play helps in bringing this serious problem to the forefront. I did not expect to walk away with as much as an education on the subject as this play provides. The title does give some foreshadowing, but the journey from there is a dark one. The word “monger” is defined as “broker” or “dealer”. In this case, the monger’s deals involve people, specifically young, under-aged women.

I don’t give away storylines as a rule, and I will choose to remain true to that. Just know that the material is hard-hitting and does not hold back any punches. What I really want is for you to go see this play. This is not a light-hearted, Friday evening good time. This is something real. Most of the time, we look to escape reality. This brings you back. In this play that is inspired by true events in Chicago, Bonnett explores the underworld of sex-trafficking using composites of people she interviewed and uses actual posts that comes from online chats by actual participants in this vile, shadowy world in making up some of the story's dialogue.

There are three actors in this one-act play. The set is simple. The room is small. The music is sparse. The play is well-acted, directed and conceived. The script is powerful. These are the precise pieces needed for Director John Mossman to present this important story in the most perfect way.

I give Bonnett a lot of credit for tackling a topic like this. Too many people look the other way. Too many men play the “Bro Code” card when it comes to things like this. Covering for your buddy is something that is almost taught from father to son, another topic touched upon in the storyline. The idea of “Oh, he’s just being a guy” is pretty common and undermines the serious tragedy as sexual abuse towards women – in any way. And I know this problem is way more common than statistics would indicate.

Ira Amyx plays the role of J. B. Benton. I am not sure how much he is actually awakened in this story but there is some serious education thrust into his head. How he processes that information is up to him. Amyx does a great job and is very believable playing someone far less likeable than an ongoing crippling disease. The unpopular character is a challenging role and Amyx skillfully meets that challenge.

Joshua Zambrano plays his son Eddie and plays the role of the misfit kid really well. This was another tough role to play, but Zambrano finesses his way through it like a seasoned pro. Jamise Wright plays Ruth Edwards, a mother who was going through great emotional loss. She becomes the woman she portrays with an undeniable captured honesty.

The saddest part of the story is, unfortunately, based on actual events. It is uncomfortable to watch (you’ll know the scene), but really adds a sense of awareness and urgency to the table that is necessary in making Bonnett’s point. It’s a scene many need to see this for different reasons. This play should be seen everywhere. A provocative play such as this might prevent a lot of harm on a lot of people in the mindfulness it raises on sexual abuses. Young men need to learn respect for women. Young women need to learn respect for themselves. Sounds simple, right? Well, if it is…then why does this evil still exist?

After the performance, Mary Bonnett and Marian Hatcher of the Cook County Sheriff Human Trafficking Division addressed the audience. This punctuated the story’s reality. Hatcher is a survivor herself and shed some more light on the dark subject. I am not going to say anything else, other than…go see this influential play.

Haunting, educational and a story that will resonate with its audience and encourage action, I highly recommend “Monger”.

The world premiere “Monger: The Awakening of J.B. Benton” is being performed at Greenhouse Theater Center in Lincoln Park through September 30th. For tickets and/or more information visit www.HerStory.org.

“God’s will” is often invoked as a reason for suffering in Barbara Lebow’s 1984 A Shayna Maidel, now being revived in a powerfully acted and impressively designed production at Timeline Theatre. While this might provide comfort to those who suffer, it also provides cover for those who caused the suffering. This point is made in the play, but the focus is on what people do survive, not on the circumstances that compel them to have to fight for survival. Taking place in 1946, it is a powerful tribute to the resilience of those who lived through Hitler’s Final Solution. As one family realizes that their estrangement is based on more than just miles and struggles to once again become as whole as possible, their perspectives and memories go beyond the lists of the dead to show the personal impact of not only hate, but ignorance, both willful and not. As the Holocaust slips further into history, it is important to remind people of its toll on humanity, and how easy it was to stay on the sidelines, allowing “God’s will” to be done.

A Shayna Maidel begins the generation before the main events of the play, in a Polish village in 1876, where a child is being born in the midst of a Russian pogrom. Fires burn, screams fill the air, and horses’ hooves thunder. The baby, Mordechai, is born without a cry, but he survives. Flash forward to 1946, and Rose Weiss is roused from sleep by pounding on the door. It is her father, Mordechai Weiss, now a successful store manager in New York City, waking Rose with the news that her sister, Lusia, has survived the concentration camps and will be coming to stay with her in a few days. Rose, who has recently gotten a job and the apartment that she is being ordered to share, is not happy that she is being given no choice in the matter. She has no memory of Lusia and her mother, whom she and Mordechai left behind in Poland when they came to America when she was four. Though she feels guilty about being the sister who was able to grow up American, Rose is as American as Mordechai raised her to be. She was able to ride out the Depression without pain and, though she has forced herself to watch newsreels of Nazi atrocities, Mordechai has isolated her from news of the family and her sympathy is from a distance. Lusia’s arrival brings it home.

Emily Berman’s haunted Lusia captures the steely resolve that kept her from giving up and keeps her looking for her husband when the search seems hopeless. Her careful movements and speech conceal the accumulation of loss and suffering, as well as the seething fury, that she cannot leave behind. As her sister Rose, Bri Sudia embodies the more mundane struggles she faces—working and creating her own life and identity despite her father’s objections—she is radiant, powerful and compassionate, despite her ignorance of the world she escaped. Initially resentful of having to take in her lost sister, Rose becomes an ally and friend as the bonds of blood and memory emerge. As the patriarch Mordechai, Charles Stransky fully realizes the imperious anger that both daughters remember, and the pride that reveals his love for them, but also played a role in their estrangement, a fact that he forces himself to ignore. Carin Silkaitis plays Mama with a warmth and pragmatism that reflects the character’s own strength in facing hardships. Weaving through Lusia’s memories are her husband Duvid and her best friend Hanna. We see Alex Stein’s Duvid go from cocky teenager, to proud husband worried about protecting the future of his family while still retaining his brash charm. As Hanna, Sarah Wisterman is bubbly and gregarious, hopeful and defiant in the face Nazi atrocities.

Director Vanessa Stalling has assembled a perfect cast and understands the importance of remembering the events that tear apart the Weiss family in Lebow’s play, though some flashbacks prove problematic, lending an elegiac quality that deprives the play of its contemporary relevance. Still, the moments that provide a reason to remember are powerfully rendered—the comparison of lists of the lost, the litany of causes for Lusia’s abandonment in Poland, the hope that runs through the tragedy, not as a weak last gasp, but as a powerful choice. It is this hope that makes the production worth checking out, even though the script sometimes threatens to relegate the threats faced by the Weiss family to the past, rather than reminding us that they still exist. Stalling’s design team finds the balance between the visceral and the mundane. The note-perfect set by Collette Pollard and props by Hillarie M. Shockley, with their cheery colors and all the luxuries that a 1946 walk-up might contain, ensure that the realistic story stays connected to the real stories it represents. Costume designer Samantha C. Jones likewise accents the reality of the time, from the Rose’s middle-class chic, to Mama’s peasant vibrance, to Lusia’s evolving wardrobe, from drab Red Cross issued dress to the relative elegance of the flower prints that echo her sister’s own clothes. Lighting designer Rachel K. Levy shifts her palette between the warm glow of the apartment and memories of childhood to the harsh saturated colors that define the realities of oppression. Sound designer and composer Jeffrey Levin creates a rich aural tapestry, with music ranging from klezmer to period pop, the music of the present and memories, and the terrifying sounds of violent onslaught.

It is important that the world never forget the Holocaust. A Shayna Maidel brings its memory to life, but it does not go far enough in showing us why it is important, nor placing blame where it belongs. It becomes too easy to shift the blame to Mordechai, with his imperious pride, rather than a world that turned away. This has nothing to do with Vanessa Stalling’s meticulous and impassioned Timeline Theatre production, which is a devastating reminder of events that are growing distant enough that their lessons are being daily—and sometimes deliberately—forgotten. Emily Berman’s Lusia embodies the hope and strength required to survive crushing loss and abandonment, while Bri Sudia’s Rose shows the genuine value of empathy. As Mordechai, Charles Stransky finds the compassion behind his character’s overbearing demeanor, and the remainder of the ensemble show the tragedy of what was lost in the face of Nazi atrocities and the world’s wavering response. A Shayna Maidel, the play, misses opportunities to show the ongoing impact of ignoring ethnic cleansing and genocide—connections made, but not pursued. However, the members of Lebow’s fictional Weiss family and their journeys provide many indelible moments of recognition, recrimination, love and loss.

A Shayna Maidel runs through November 4 at Timeline Theatre Company, 615 W. Wellington, Chicago. Performances take place Wednesdays and Thursdays at 7:30 pm, Fridays at 8 pm, Saturdays at 4 pm and 8 pm, and Sundays at 2 pm. Tickets are available at timelinetheatre.com or by calling the box office at (773)281-8463 x 6.

*Extended through December 2nd