Displaying items by tag: Open Space Arts

I chose to review LIGHT SWITCH because the play sounded intriguing, and also because every production I’ve seen at Open Space Arts (OSA) has been excellent. OSA can be relied upon to deliver thought-provoking, enlightening and captivating pieces played by super-talented actors. LIGHT SWITCH was no exception.

LIGHT SWITCH tells the story of Henry, an autistic gay man, across a span of twenty years; the chronicle is both sidesplitting and heartrending. Phillip Andrew Monnett plays Henry in his journey from a taunted and ridiculed child to a PhD student (19th century English literature, to be precise). His dorm roommate Rogie (Henry DelBello) urges him to parties where he’ll meet men; and Rogie’s right; Henry meets several men, [all depicted by Dylan McCumber], none of whom Henry finds suitable except Joseph, played by Peter Manuel Young. Flashbacks help to flesh out Henry’s character by providing insight into Henry’s upbringing, and Hilary Hensler was awesome as his mother Marian.

Playwright Dave Osmundsen is himself autistic, and LIGHT SWITCH presents an accurate and sympathetic portrayal of autism. The scenes depicting the inadvertently devastating reactions of his well-meaning but exasperated mother were as excellent as they were wrenching. Unlike too many representations of autistic people (I’m looking at you, Sony Picture’s The Good Doctor), LIGHT SWITCH avoided many of the tired stereotypes about autistic people, while faithfully sketching many genuine traits … though we must remember that autistic people are not cookie-cutter concordant! For example, Henry’s obsession with Victorian literature is unique, but his penchant for replication is fairly common among autistic people, which we see in his repetition of certain phrases and in ways that overlap with his unique obsession, like having 18 copies of Wuthering Heights.

Monnett was spectacular in the extensive and challenging role of Henry. He deftly maintained the rigid behaviors that are typical of autism while allowing us to follow Henry’s growth as a character. Through Osmundsen's script and Monnett's portrayal, we get to see Henry experience a full range of emotion, from subtle to expansive, something that is rarely afforded to autistic characters but is absolutely part of the experience of autistic people. I attended this show with an autistic friend and there was one scene where this portrayal of emotion didn't quite ring true for them. During the pivotal argument between Rogie and Henry, Henry's emotional state changes quickly multiple times - from anger to curiosity to sadness to decisiveness. It would be more typical for someone with autism to remain in the same emotional state throughout, but here the action of the script dictated moving the story forward a bit more rapidly.

Henry DelBello’s Rogie was purely delightful. Rogie’s steadfast devotion to Henry throughout their seven years together was depicted with poignant authenticity. DelBello gave Rogie a spontaneity and vivacity that brightened the stage with each appearance. I’m usually obnoxed by scenes of drunken rambling, but DelBello never allowed me to feel anything but affection for Rogie. For his part, Peter Manuel Young played the complex character of Joseph admirably. His “promiscuity” was balanced by his obvious fondness for whatever man he was currently making advances towards.

I’m always impressed by how well OSA’s tech crews manage within the teensy stage space available at Open Space Arts! I also noted that they created stadium-style seating by placing folding chairs in front, desk chairs in the second row, and counter stools at the back – so clever! But getting back to the production crew: Michael D Graham directed (with Assistant Shakir Methune), and they did an amazing job, particularly with blocking out the movements of actors and set pieces.  

That being said, I thought the set change blackouts in Act 1 were too frequent; this might have been alleviated by working with Set Designer Rick Paul to minimize the furniture. Less pieces to move about, as we saw with the transitions to and from the Cabin set, would smooth out the action. The books in the background were important to reflect the intense but narrow scope of Henry’s erudition, but beyond that the set only really required those pieces where the actors needed to sit or lie down. That’s my fondness for the minimalist approach to set design talking, but shorter and fewer complex set rearrangements would definitely mitigate the choppiness that distracted me throughout Act 1.

Intimacy Director Greta Zandstra had their work cut out for themselves, as intimacy was a critical issue for Henry. Zandstra did a fine job of balancing Henry’s general fluency with gay sex against his individual disinclination for physical touch. Rogie’s influence was certainly key in this sphere!

A play entitled LIGHT SWITCH could have supported many interesting possibilities for Lighting Designer Justin Walker, but they chose to stick to the basics, and it worked fine. Costume Designer Adie Sutherland had more limited scope to work within, but Rogie’s underpants were terrific! Alex Kingsley’s music was both powerful and plausible. And last but not least: kudos to Stage Manager Joey Bluhm and Producer David Zak.

The term ‘neurodivergent’ was introduced in the early 90’s as an alternative to deficit-based language, e.g. “disorder.” The neurodivergent paradigm is based on the idea that autism and other developmental conditions are differences to be embraced, rather than diseases to be cured.  Thus “neurodiversity” may refer to all people because everyone has a unique way of processing information. To neurodiversity proponents, people are disabled because they are at the edges of the bell curve, not because they are sick or broken. Controversy has arisen among disability advocates, some of whom argue this risks downplaying the suffering experienced by some autistic individuals, and normalizing things some might want treatment for.

The neurodiversity movement emerged largely via online interaction, as the Internet’s design was compatible with the needs of many autistic people. Within the scientific community, autism research may sometimes be too eager to interpret differences as deficits, though a focus on masking autistic traits may be ethically questionable, as some recent studies associate excessive masking with poor mental health, even suicide. The neurodiversity movement attempts to keep autism and its like away from the ‘pathology paradigm’. Stigma against neurodivergence (especially against autism) can severely hinder an individual's ability to perform well in the education system and the workplace.

I heartily celebrate the increasing recognition and understanding of neurodiversity, where the arts provide a critical canvas with plays like LIGHT SWITCH. I’ve learned from seeing the play and discussing it with my autistic companion. The mission of Open Space Arts is to “foster inclusivity, promote understanding, and empower marginalized communities … through the transformative power of creativity and cultural expression”. You certainly accomplished that here, OSA!

LIGHT SWITCH plays at OSA through September 29. I strongly recommend you check it out!

*Extended through October 13th

Those were my first words when I left the performance of COCK to David Zak, producer and resident wizard of Open Space Arts, and he dared me to say it in my review so—here you go, DZ!

But COCK truly is. F***king amazing, I mean. Really.

I’ll introduce the venue first: Open Space Arts (OSA) is ‘dedicated to combating homophobia and antisemitism through the transformative power of creativity and cultural expression’. Nothing to argue with there! OSA Theatre is the quintessential Chicago ‘black box theatre’, and one of the smallest I’ve attended: only about 20 seats, with a stage about the size of my living room (which is pretty bloody small!) … plus, right smack in the center of the stage is this big ol’ vertical drainpipe. I always love seeing how companies work with and around the oddities and idiosyncrasies of their space, and Director Wren Wesner did a singularly splendid job with COCK.

The script: written (or premiered, anyway) in 2008 by British playwright Mike Bartlett, this is the Chicago debut. There are four characters: John (Eliot Hall), his long-time lover M (Kevin Woodrow), M’s father F (Michael Lomenick), and a woman John connects with, W (Sonya Robinson) [Obviously Man, Woman, and Father].  

And the story: John comes home to M after two weeks silent absence. The first act is John and M’s discussion of his absence and the past, present, and future of their relationship, where we establish that John has spent those two weeks with W, a woman he met passing on the street (albeit not a streetwalker) and very rapidly grew very attached to. John and M’s tête-à-tête culminates with John promising M he’ll break it off with W.

But the minute he’s away from M John starts vacillating … who is he anyway? What is he? Is he gay? he’s only ever had sex with men, but this woman is so attractive, and her ‘gap’ (we hear many appellations for this female characteristic, most of them from M and most of them unattractive) … did you get lost there? Sorry. I’m talking about John’s impression of W’s gap (she says that while John gets a hard on, she gets a gap-on) which, much to his surprise—and to ours, particularly having heard M’s singularly negative view — (not to mention our pre-conceived assumption of gay mens’ associations thereof) is a singularly positive impression.  [thank Someone for periods—the punctuation kind, not the gap kind—else that sentence might still be driveling on].

I’m not doing a very coherent job of this, am I? but that’s OK, cos this somewhat chaotic narrative is not inconsistent with the flavor of COCK – not that COCK is incoherent, and it’s certainly not drivel! but it did follow a circuitous course, with Bartlett leaving to us the responsibility of making sense of it all. Because that is just what John finds himself unable to do. Like a fundamentalist Christian, he’s desperately seeking a synopsis, a definitive sobriquet, a Revelation that will define What’s What—and thereby What’s Right and What’s Wrong. What a terrific query for election year 2024! How did Mike Bartlett know we’d need this right now? Luckily David Zak and co-producer Elayne LeTraunik did know, and they brought it to life at OSA to assist us in figuring out WTF is What with American democracy!

But I digress (no surprise there). Back to COCK.

The title is provocative; shouldn’t it be COCK & GAP? But no, the title refers to John’s confusion as to where said cock feels most at home. Some Brit producers called it COCKFIGHT—not inappropriate.

John certainly seems to be gay:  he’s had none but male sex partners all his life, his relationship with M is long-term and committed, he’s never felt any attraction to womankind … until W. So just what is John? Bi? [Though for him it’s more like Gay+1.] Naturally John has thought about What He’s Missing: having kids, belonging to the mainstream community, living a “normal” life … and so on and so forth, you know the drill.

Solution: Invite W to a dinner party where, over roast beef and red wine John will… will what? By the time it actually happens he’s promised both M and W that he will give the others their marching orders. Then the situation is further snarled by M announcing he’s invited his dad for moral support. F brings a surfeit of additional issues as well as additional attitudes to the issues already under review.

So, the story boils down to John making a Decision … does he stick with the gay relationship he knows, the man he loves, and a place that’s at least familiar, or will he choose a ‘normal’, mainstream life with this woman he can’t stop craving? Choose, John! Make a decision!

But wait! This decision is about an issue that they—we!—fervently believe is not a decision but an inborn trait! Decades of blood sweat and tears by LGBTQ activists, mental health professionals, religious leaders, and politicians has finally brought us to the widespread understanding that homosexuality (like heterosexuality) is not a choice, it’s a predilection that everyone is born with and that nobody can just change. So, in asking John to Decide, what happens to that issue? Do we bring back the conversion therapies, restore homosexuality to the DSM, return Anita Bryant to her pulpit, fire all the gay teachers and court-martial the gay soldiers? All just so John can decide where to put his cock?

The acting is extraordinary, beginning with Eliot Hall, who brings authenticity to and elicits sympathy for John’s emotional turmoil. Hall makes us see that John is not just a wishy-washy waffler; he’s genuinely torn, flummoxed by a question he never imagined he’d be obliged to answer … after all, no one should!  He projects intense chemistry with both M and W, spotlighting the degree of his conundrum.

Hall’s admirable performance is more than matched by Kevin Woodrow. M’s bewilderment is fully as unsettling as John’s, with the additional distress of total helplessness. There’s nothing M can do to resolve the situation, or even to influence it; he can only wait until John acts. And bake cheesecake. Woodrow illuminates this ferment, while never letting us (or John!) forget that John is the love of his life.  Woodrow also has terrific comedic sense. The entire script is full of wonderful metaphors, which Woodrow delivers flawlessly, bringing down the house with: “There’s so much emotional crap that orbits you, like you’re collecting space junk.” 

Sonya Robinson is a worthy foil – her performance illustrates the unenviable position W is in: unintentionally, reluctantly, involuntarily, she has fallen in love with this stranger, only to find she must fight for him in a battle she is personally disinclined for. W offers John both passion and compassion. My initial, natural proclivity was to root for M (anyone surprised by this hasn’t been reading my reviews), but Robinson made me understand her better and, if not favor her cause, at least appreciate what John saw in her. And, just BTW, she is NOT mannish!

F is in the action for only a fraction of the 90-minute run, but Michael Lomenick makes the most of that time. Lomenick reads through the script to his unwavering love for his son, both his sons. F brings us an historical aspect; he remembers the times of persecution and prison and as a father is relieved that his sons need not face this oppression.

My companion is new to Chicago theatre, especially the storefront sites; afterwards he told me he had assumed that such a small theatre would mount a “small” production. I laughed and told him, “This is Chicago, cher. There’s fully as much talent in the storefronts as at Goodman or Nederlander”, and he couldn’t but agree, particularly regarding the acting. I expect high-quality acting in the black boxes, but Lomenick, Robinson, Woodrow, and Hall [sounds like the name of a law firm innit?] sailed over even that high-placed bar.

Justin Walker managed the lighting, collaborating with Sound director Angela Joy Baldasare to signal scene changes with light and sound. Director Wren Wesner, with Teri Talo as Assistant, did a totally brilliant job with blocking; the physical space afforded them no other manner of defining scenes, and their magic let us clearly see the apartment: from the foyer, through the living room and back to the outdoor deck, as well as illustrating fluctuating moods and relationships. Talo was also Assistant to Stage Manager Desiree Stypinski; together they maintained the scaffolding for a magnificent production.

I must give a shoutout to Intimacy Coordinator Greta Zandstra: the sex was hot as hell, without a stitch of clothing shed or a single physical touch. Bravo! Masterfully done!

COCK is totally hilarious, and none of the humor is too British for us colonials. But the story is ultimately a tragedy, for John is facing the impossible; deciding whose heart he will break—including his own. No spoilers! but it’s a devilishly difficult situation, innit? and a theme with emotional, societal, political, and personal ramifications. I’ll be thinking about COCK for a long time.

And today I’m HIGHLY RECOMMENDING it!

COCK plays through May 11th at Open Space Arts

SUNSETS: TWO ACTS ON A BEACH is a long-lost diamond by unsung genius Cal Yeomans. Yeomans, despite his myriad talents (playwright, poet, actor, artist, educator, lecturer, photographer, real estate investor, land developer, and philanthropist) was an unfortunate example of the prophet in his own land: only posthumously are his masterful contributions recognized as vital to the post-Stonewall / pre-AIDS gay theatre genre. Maybe he was a visionary; before his work as well as his life were extinguished in 2001 by AIDS he is quoted as saying: "Perhaps in years to come some young queen will find [my writings] in an old trunk bought at an auction, will read [them] and say, 'My God! Was that the way it was? Times sure have changed.' Let us pray for that anyway".

Happily, for us, Director David Zak is not an unsung genius; over three decades of work in Chicago theatre he’s amassed a mantel-full of Jeff Awards, including a special Jeff for “Fostering Diversity in Chicago Theatre”. If you’ve read my reviews, you’ll know that counts for a lot with me!  He served as Artistic Director at Bailiwick Repertory for yonks and, with co-Director Elayne LeTraunik, has taken Open Space Arts under his creative wing. OSA’s mission is to ‘foster inclusivity, promote understanding, and empower marginalized communities’ through various artistic mediums [media? – whatever].

Open Space Arts Theatre is an exemplar of the tiny storefront theatres I adore: on Wilson just east of Clark in, yes, a storefront, OSAT can seat maybe 40, if some people sit on the stairs. Director Zak was at the door to greet patrons, Lighting Designer Justin Walker offered his arm to make sure I didn’t come to grief on the stairs; and there I was, where I love best to watch theatre: immersed in the cast’s pheromone cloud.

Rick Paul gave us a perfect set, keeping it minimalist with creative multi-tasking – the table did service as a couch, a beach, a bed – and even a table!  And I loved Zach Stinnet’s playlists, recalling Donna Summers’ era dance tunes.

Costume Designer Zahrah Agha did a superb job with drag queen persona Henrietta’s gowns & etcetera, but I’m afraid I have a bone to pick with both Agha and Intimacy Designer Greta Zandstra: the press release promised nudity, but they kept their damned dance belts on – drat! and similar ejaculations!

The play is exactly what its title betokens:  two acts, on a beach, at sunset. Act One has a cast of one – John Cardone as Henry. His monologue was superb, with reminiscences ranging from droll to somber, sultry to sassy, superficial to analytical. Henry spoke several times of Him, trying to make light of but unable to conceal his anguish as he describes His defection for a younger, cuter model.

Henry was once Henrietta, a high-end drag act; now he’s “living with my mom … and that’s alright, really!” but we can’t help fearing the lady doth protest just a smidgen too much. Any road, it’s here at the beach that Henry has discovered his calling, a very special ministry. I won’t describe his precise methods, but he plies them here on the beach … or, more precisely, in the beach men’s room. As he follows the latest supplicant through the door marked MEN he delivers his final line, the title of the Act One: “The Line Forms to the Rear”.

There’s no intermission – both acts together are just over an hour – and we move right on to John (Chris Sylvie). Like Henry, John comes pretty regularly to this beach, usually at about sunset. We assume that John, like Henry, has undergone something of a reversal of fortune; from The Big City (“No, not Miami!” he tells Dan) to this small Florida town … but here he has the beach, and it’s here he meets Dan (Aaron Cappello).

Dan is Everyman and is doing pretty well for himself – nice construction job, nice wife, two nice kids – but apparently there’s something missing, cos it sure doesn’t take long for John and Dan to progress from badinage to BJ … after which Dan abruptly leaves and John’s sitting alone again on the beach months later; he’s almost given up on Dan when suddenly there he is again!

Their accidental meetings cum trysts become increasingly intimate but continue to end with Dan’s precipitous withdrawal (no, through the door … yeah). As their encounters become more and more visceral our concern grows: what will happen to John if Dan totally freaks out …?  But [spoiler!] Act Two also has a happy ending, with Dan and John serenaded by chanteuse Henrietta (John Cardone again, in full kit) singing The Man I Love.

It’s very difficult to describe this brief but compelling production without spoilers – I’m starting them already! – so you’re just going to have to trust me: see SUNSET: TWO ACTS ON A BEACH. Really. See it. You will so not be sorry.

*Extended through Sunday, March 3rd