I’m actually not a dance critic. I don’t know enough about dance; I‘m not fluent in the language of dance; I have limited experience with dance. But whenever GIORDANO DANCE COMPANY performs, I put my name in, purely because I love their work!

GIORDANO DANCE COMPANY’s 62^nd Season, SOARING, is a very special one for GDC. Artistic Director Nan Giordano is celebrating her 40^th year at the helm of the company her father Gus started in 1963.  Says Giordano, “I enter my 40th year with possibility, gratitude, energy & an untouchable source of energy.”

In this celebratory season Giordano has chosen to work with choreographers with whom she has special relationships. Ray Leeper's connection with GDC began decades ago with company founder Gus Giordano, who pulled the young Ray up on stage at a dance convention. Since then, Leeper has choreographed three full company works for GDC: “Feelin’ Good Sweet” in 2014, “Soul” in 2018, and now “Red & Black”, appearing in its world premiere.

GDC company dancer Adam Houston's "unconditional" featured a love story told with tender and impeccable partner work by Sasha Lazarus and Fernando Rodriquez. The choreography, more balletic than the classic jazz vernacular of the company, laid a serene aura across the auditorium. 

GDC Dancers in Red and Black.

GDC frequently punctuates its acts with brief videos that divulge historical and personal elements of the work. I particularly appreciated this with Marinda Davis’s extraordinary “Flickers” (2019). In the video Davis courageously describes her personal health journey through darkness, celebrating her indomitable spirit and unflinching quest for light. Davis enlivens the jazz-based aesthetic with brief paroxysms of ballet beats and hectic percussive shifts. See Chicago Dance calls “Flickers,” “…practically a genre unto itself.”

Emmy Award-winning choreographer and educator Al Blackstone created "Gershwin in B" to mark the 100-year anniversary of "Rhapsody in Blue". "Gershwin In B" moves the dancers about the stage with the joyous athleticism and buoyancy that GDC is known for. Using nine of Gershwin’s songs ranging from the less familiar to the acclaimed, Gershwin in B depicts the journey of one woman from youthful innocence to fearless maturity, with a red fedora appearing incidentally but significantly throughout her odyssey. The central character, danced superbly by Erina Ueda, carries the dramatic weight of the narrative on her shoulders.  As a whole the dance exhibits GDC’s professional skill and passion, impelling the dancers to go beyond dance to move the story forward. 

The theatre was filled with familiars of the company, making the performance feel very special and personal. Marinda Davis was seated just in front of us, and we enjoyed watching dozens of people battle the crowds to laud her personally. Seated just behind us were a couple of rows of youngsters who applauded many of the dancers so enthusiastically that I had to ask, “Do you know them?”  A lovely girl of eleven or twelve replied exuberantly, eyes sparkling, “They’re our teachers!”  If devotion and fervor are any measure, we will be seeing several of those girls onstage before long!

GIORDANO DANCE CHICAGO usually appears in brief runs, just 2-3 performances. Keep a close eye, for anything they do is HIGHLY RECOMMENDED!

I’ve delighted in Babes with Blades since they began in 1997, and they are never more delightful than when slashing and sauntering their gender-flouting way through Shakespeare. Apt, that: MAGA really should condemn all the Bard’s works as rooted in cross-dressing! The Babes would thumb their noses at that, though! And here they give us a lighthearted gambol through enchanted woods in the ever beloved A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM.

Lauren Katz (she/her) directed, with Assistant Kelsey Kovacevich (she/her).  Jillian Leff (she/her) is BWBTC’s premiere fight choreographer, assisted by Madison Hill (they/them). Fight choreographer is a critical role in any BWBTC production, as the Babes’ raison d'être is ‘using stage combat as a storytelling tool that elevates underrepresented identities to center stage’.  Cool, yeah?

I wondered how the Babes would pull off Shakespeare’s famously light-hearted comedy – I last saw them in their 2022 production of Richard III (stupendous!) and I usually associate BWBTC with more … well … combative productions. But the Babes are nothing if not versatile, and this MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM presents the enchanted story with the unique perspective only BWBTC can bring.

The story, you’ll remember, is a bit complicated: the wedding of Athens’ Duke Thesus (Jalyn Greene [they/she]) to Amazon queen Hippolyta (Hayley Rice [she/her])  is the central theme around which several subplots revolve. One involves two pairs of lovers: Lysander (Christine Chang [they/she]) loves Hermia (Cat Evans [they/she/him]), whose bestie Helena (Patty Roache [they/them]) loves Demetrius (Kim Fukawa [she/her]) – who’s in love with Hermia. How could anything go wrong there, huh? The two pairs plan severally to meet tonight in the Woods of Fairyland.

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the wood, a decidedly amateur group of thespians rehearsed a play to perform at the royal wedding. The wannabe troupe includes over-enthusiastic Nick Bottom (Sarah Scanlon [she/her]), Starveling (Jessica Goforth [she/her]), Snout (Lauren Paige [she/her]), Flute (Cee Scallen [they/them]), Quince (Morgan Manasa [she/her]) and Snug (Logan UhiwaiO’Alohamailani Rasmussen [she/her]).  Their collective stagecraft was far more droll than depictive, especially after ….

 Oops! I forgot to introduce the Fairies!

Fairy king Oberon (Hayley Rice [she/her)) and queen Titania (Jalyn Greene [they/she]) are experiencing consanguineous confutation and botheration; specifically, Titania is in possession (?) of a changeling boy that Oberon wants  (his purpose left to the audience’s imagination nudge nudge wink wink), but Titania is disinclined to relinquish the dainty. Fuming, Oberon calls upon his ‘shrewd and knavish sprite’ Puck (Hazel Monson [she/her]) to concoct a magical juice that, applied to the eyes of a sleeping person, causes them to fall in love with the first person (or whatever) they see. Thus, he will retaliate against his ungenerous wife.

Puck happens upon the theatric rehearsals and, taking Bottom’s name to mean jackass (a reasonable misapprehension), transforms his head into that of a donkey. Puck then scampers off to his appointed task of anointing the eyes of Titania and arranges that Bottom(ass!) be the first creature whom Titania espies … and instantly falls in love with!

Puck has a bit of remaining oobleck (yes, it’s a word, it means ‘a non-Newtonian fluid’) and, finding the lovers Lysander and Hermia, Demetrius and Helena slumbering under the trees, he sprinkles it on the blokes. They, naturally, are gazing upon the ‘wrong’ lady when they wake. The resulting convolution of affections triggers a spectacular Hermia/Helena catfight (as only Babes can fight!). King Oberon is delighted that Titania is enamored of an ass but appalled at the plight of the lovers: “What fools these mortals be!”. He casts a forgetfulness spell so that all four will awake remembering the whole mishegoss as but a dream.

Act the Final has Oberon, Titania and Puck, with a bevy of other fairies, wishing blessings on the audience then leaving Puck, who slyly implies that, “as I am an honest Puck” we may have dreamed it all as well.  

Where to begin my paeans of praise?!

Director Lauren Katz reflects in her Director’s Note that the first task of a director is to decide: ‘How is this production to be different?’; a critical question for a play so celebrated as A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM. 

The differences begin, of course, with the company. Babes With Blades Theatre Company is a theatrical troupe like no other and leaves its singular imprint on anything they do:  BWBTC is the world’s only company using stage combat as its primary storytelling tool. I don’t know if they’re the world’s only all-woman stage fighting company, but they’re certainly the only one in Chicago. More fundamentally, BWBTC’s mission is to bring underrepresented voices onstage. For example, in the Babes’ 2022 production of Richard III the woman playing Richard was blind and the director deaf, and that show lives in my memory as the finest theatrical program I’ve ever seen.

That inclusivity extends to the audience. The night we attended A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM was one of their ‘sensory friendly’ performances:  to accommodate people with sensory challenges the house lights remained halfway up, theater doors stood open throughout (to facilitate lobby breaks); the volume was decreased for certain scenes; and (my favorite) the box office offered ‘sensory kits’, containing noise reducing earmuffs, notebook/pen, and fidget toys. How incredibly cool is that?

Scenic Designer Marcus Klein (he/him) effectively combined simplicity with actuation. Together, Light Designer Laura J Wiley (she/her), Technical Director Line Bower (they/them), and Sound Designer Hannah Foerschler (she/her) collaborated to create a truly magical Fairyland Forest. Victoria Jablonski’s (she/her) costumes were perfectly in character, even when several actors played multiple characters! Intimacy Choreographer Sydney Cox (she/her) was not stymied by the ever-changing kaleidoscope of intimate couplings, and Props Designer Persephone Lawrence (she/they) made sure Puck had their magic potion whenever it was needed! A good dialect coach is essential to make iambic pentameter comprehensible, and Carrie Hardin most emphatically did so.  

Everyone, absolutely everyone was superb, but there are always a few standouts. I once asked a theatre-savvy friend, “Just what does a Stage Manager do, anyway?” their reply: “Everything.” Essau Andaleon (he/him) did Everything and did it well; he and Production Manager Rose Hamill (she/her) produced a smooth flow of splendiferous energy.

The cast was also globally superb, with a couple of notables to shout out. I knew I’d seen Patty Roache (they/them) before – on that very stage, in fact, as Queen Margaret in Richard III. They were equally magnificent as Helena: I purely love it (and clearly, they do too!) when they can yowl and shriek and caterwaul their fool head off!  The actors’ troupe of Snug Snout, Quince and Starveling meshed beautifully, and Sarah Scanlon was an admirable Bottom as well as a terrific ass!

I play favorites – so sue me. After all, Puck is everyone’s favorite character! And, if you’ve been reading my reviews, you know I’m a diehard, down-to-the-bone fanatic (not just fan!) of Lord of the Rings. So how could I help but be ensorcelled when Hazel Monson (she/her) played Puck as though she was channeling Andy Serkis? How could I fail to be enraptured by so Gollum-like (Gollum-ish? Gollum-esque?) a Puck? who capered and gamboled, rollicked and larked, skipped and sprang about the stage, often ending crouched before Oberon, head quizzically atilt, awaiting Fairy King Oberon’s next decree. Brava Hazel!

If you’ve never seen a Babes with Blades production before, A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM is a perfect place to start. If you’ve followed the Babes for years, don’t let this one get by! And if you’ve seen A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM a dozen times already, by all means come see what the Babes can do in Fairyland!

A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM plays through November 23 at The Edge Theater. You can find the schedule of special performances on the Babes’ website.

HIGHLY RECOMMENDED

The early closing of the Conspirators’ 2023 production of “Commedia Divina,” proved useful, giving this …erm … highly original company an opportunity to retool “Commedia Divina” into a production worthy of Election Year 2024.

I can’t claim I wasn’t warned. I mean, the very title is “Commedia Divina: It’s Worse Than That, An Immorality Play.” You can’t read that title and walk in expecting Carol Burnett, right? I was further cautioned by my seatmate (a Conspirators veteran) that the Conspirators’ style is “an acquired taste.”

In fact, The Conspirators work exclusively in “The Style” – a highly theatrical performance mode developed by movie stars Tim Robbins and John Cusack from the techniques of Ariane Mnouchkine, Commedia dell'Arte, Kabuki, Bugs Bunny cartoons and punk rock.

In COMMEDIA DIVINA, “The Style” features easy-to-change (it happens alot) costumes from Kit Medic (they/them), with Kate Akerboom’s (she/her) in-your-face over-the-top makeup. Together, one hardly needs Sid Feldman’s he/him words or William Bullion’s (he/him) direction … but trust me, you’d miss them if they were deleted.

As they almost were when the video for the Fourth Circle refused to play … but the Conspirators are a professional troupe, and neither a misbehaving media clip nor a broken butterfly net caused so much as a hiccup.

Maybe I should go back and tell you the story huh?

Start with Inferno, the first (stanza) in Dante’s epic poem, The Divine Comedy, in which the poet Virgil escorts Dante through the Nine Circles of Hell. Dante intended the Inferno to illuminate the contrast between reality and fantasy, between existence and illusion, and show the suffering of the damned at each circle. The Conspirators do a masterful job of not only scrambling these concepts, but of showing us how well that snarl mirrors contemporary life.

Dante’s guide through these Circles is Virgil; in “Commedia Divina” Fr. Virgil is immaculately (sic) played by Corin Wiggins (they/she/he), who guides, not Dante, but Malady Traitor Greene, a suburban business heiress from northern Georgia, played with lunatic frenzy by Christine Watt (she/her). Any similarities to a certain Congresswoman from  Georgia are purely coincidental - not!

The play opens with Malady Traitor Greene hysterically soliciting Fr Virgil for insight into the dreams/visions she’s been having. And as we descend with them through these Circles we begin to not only sympathize with Greene’s derangement, we too become infected with maniacal insanity, expressing itself as riotous and uncontainable laughter.

The Conspirators do their job well: by the time we exited the theater the entire sold-out audience was rampantly unhinged. In fact, if you were anywhere near 3914 N Clark Friday night you may have glimpsed a group of seething lunatics absconding into the street.

We descended with Malady and Fr. Virgil into the first circle of hell, past an Amazon packaging assembly line where all the employees are writhing with the pain of overfilled bladders, waiting eternally for a break that never comes. The next circle took us to a meeting of Karens, who can’t seem to agree on how to do good, or anything. The chair, a Karen herself, suffers damnation in managing a meeting filled with complaining, obstructionist Karens. Another circle finds the seductress Covida (Kelly Opalkoshe/her) inveigled and infected one boyfriend after another. Dramatic moments were often punctuated by a drumroll, but onstage percussionist Dakota Norman did more than simply beat the drum; he and his sticks were most definitely active members of the cast.

The Circles continued down to the uproarious "Ron Paul's Drag Race", with Travis Barnhart’s (he/him) sidesplitting appearance as Senator Mitch McConnell hitting it off with Liza Minelli. Liza serenaded us with a retooled version of “Maybe Next Time”. Throughout the production various demons, imps, Karens and ghouls were brilliantly enacted by Eva Andrews she/her; Emily Fernandez (she/her); Tess Vincentshe/her; Mitch Maguirehe/him, Jimmy Dwyer (he/him); Kelly Opalko (she/her); Lex Mann Turner (they/he) and Harper McCoy (she/they).

 Mike McShane’s (he/him) lighting and Sebby Woldt’s (they/them) sound design were integral to the production. Choreographer Meghan Lyndham (she/her) had her work cut out for her! but rose to the challenge, coordinating well with Violence Designer Libby Beyreis (she/her). Christen Krasch (she/they) was kept busy as Assistant to Stage Manager Matt Bonaccorso (he/him) as well as with A/V; I’m sure the media glitch in Circle 4 was an opening-night foible, and they’ll have it under control for the next performance.

“Commedia Divina” was written (and retooled) by Sid Feldman and directed by William Bullion, with assistant Elena Avila. Feldman and Bullion co-founded The Conspirators in 2016.

Beneath the unrelenting comedy “Comedia Divina” was amazingly erudite. Laughter is often an effective approach to commentary on the dire issues facing all of us. It’s clearly no accident that the production is timed to coincide with the election: the last words of the night were from Fr. Virgil as he was churlishly yanked offstage: “Please Vote!”

Highly recommended, “Commedia Divina” runs at Otherworld Theatre through November 10, with special late night performances October 31 and November 1, 2, 8 and 9, as well as an Industry Night Election Special performance on Monday, November 4.

The Tempest is Shakespeare’s final play, and one could argue that he saved the best for last, skillfully presented by Idle Muse Theatre Company. At intermission I overheard two young women expressing surprise at ‘how they can do so much in so little space!’  Clearly, they were habitues of traditional venues like the Goodman and Nederlander theatres, and I simply had to interrupt them to sing the praises of Chicago’s numerous and thoroughly excellent storefront theatres. As I’ve often said, theatre takes on a special glow when you’re watching from within the players’ pheromone clouds.

As with most of the Bard’s works, The Tempest uses many characters to enact a labyrinthine plot. Prospero (Elizabeth MacDougald ^she/her) is the former Duke of Milan, deposed and exiled with his infant daughter Miranda (Caty Gordon ^she/her) to this remote and (seemingly) uninhabited island, where he has raised his child while evolving himself into a powerful sorcerer. As the play begins Prospero is using his magic to create a raging storm to wreck the ship carrying the despots who usurped his dukedom: his conniving brother Antonio (Orion Lay-Sleeper^he/him), King Alonzo (Jack Sharkey ^he/him), with his son Ferdinand (Boomer Lusink ^he/him), and Uncle Tom Cobbleigh and all ….

When Prospero arrives on the island, he finds that, contrary to expectation, it is inhabited, by Caliban (Jennifer Mohr ^she/her), whom Prospero rescues from the spell previously laid on him. Unfortunately, Caliban retaliates this largesse with brutish behavior. Prospero, fearing Caliban’s conduct might injure the growing child Miranda, enslaves him.

Prospero meets yet another islander, Ariel, a cosmically powerful air spirit whom he frees from captivity. Ariel shows more gratitude than Caliban, protecting both Prospero and the child, now seventeen years old (but still, of course, an infant in her father’s eyes).  Ariel is also handy for whipping up tempests at sea and befuddling shipwrecked aristocrats. Director Brandon cleverly casts Ariel six times: Mara Kovacevic ^she/her, Gary Henderson^he/him, Connar Brown^she/her, Emely Cuestas^she/her, Jacque Bischoff ^she/her, and Emily Pfriem ^she/her. These six capering sprites are all equally adroit in the use of magic and music, and all beholden to Prospero for their … well, not actually freedom, as they’re still indentured to Prospero, but at least they’re no longer trammeled in a tree.

[Are you getting the idea that Prospero is a bit of a control freak (to use a common Shakespearian term)?]

Ariel(s) leads Ferdinand (the King’s son, remember?) to meet Miranda, and the two adolescents fall instantaneously, fervently and immitigably in love (as you do). Elsewhere on the island King Alonso, with his friend Gonzalo (Xavier Lagunas ^he/him), his brother Sebastian (Eric Duhon ^he/him), and Prospero’s insidious brother Duke Antonio are having vile and nefarious adventures whilst the heartbroken King searches for his son. Ariel(s) saved these folks from the sinking ship, but also made sure to bespeckle them far and wide across the island. Court jester Trinculo (Joel Thompson ^he/him) and his friend the King’s butler Stephano (Michael Dalberg ^he/him) fall in with Caliban, whom they woo with the barrel of wine Stephano serendipitously rode to shore from the wreck.

There! Got all that? I’ve by no means covered all Shakespeare’s storylines, threads, scenarios and subplots, but you can get those from Cliff’s Notes; I’m here to talk about all the other artists.

As is to be expected from Idle Muse, all were excellent. I admit I’ve come to rather take for granted that the talent on a [small!] Chicago stage will be extraordinary; in particular I trust Idle Muse not to disappoint me. From MacDougald’s Prospero to the six Ariels; from Boomer Lusink’s lordly Ferdinand to Orion Lay-Sleeper’s rascally Antonio, every character was enacted deliciously. Though the story began with darkness, rolling thunder and vast waves, humor began peeking through early, and by Act II we were all laughing.

Those who’ve been reading my reviews know that I don’t pretend to be fair and even-handed; I always have favorites!  In The Tempest my first and foremost fave was Ariel #2, Gary Henderson. His Ariel couldn’t help standing out on account of being the only cis-male Faerie (sic), but I really just liked his style – dancing about the stage with bells, on hands and knees barking at miscreants, snooping into secret plots … whatever Henderson’s Ariel was up to, he was a delight! I also loved Joel Thompson’s Trinculo; paired with Michael Dahlberg’s Stephano they were a swilling and snarfing version of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, with terrific comedic timing.

Director Tristan Brandon ^he/him not only directed but adapted this production of The Tempest as well. In his splendid From the Director note he reminds us that The Tempest is about relationships and family, begotten and chosen.  The Tempest illustrates that, as humans can’t help being human, with human virtues and failings, the most critical aspect of relationships is forgiveness: we must be incessantly forgiving each other – and ourselves – for being human. Brandon’s Assistant Libby Beyreis ^she/her was also Violence Designer, appropriately, acknowledging the dichotomous but related aspects of violence and forgiveness. Balancing these was Maureen Yasko ^she/her as Intimacy Designer.

The set was perfect, spare yet evocative, under the combined attentions of Scenic Painter Breezy Snyder ^she/they with Scenic Designers Laura J. Wiley ^she/her and Tristan Brandon; these two, with Artistic Director Evan Jackson ^he/him, also designed the props, and Laura Wiley ^she/her brought the puppets to life.

[BTW, I hope you’re noticing names being repeated. When a relatively small company is mounting grandiloquent and multidimensional productions (like anything by Shakespeare!), considerable multitasking is required. Thus one sees much overlap, as well as inclusion of cast members, in Production.]

I was enchanted by Jennifer Mohr’s ^she/her costumes and Jacque Bischoff’s ^she/her makeup. The Ariels were captivating with twinkle-lights under tulle skirts and transcendental makeup. Prospero’s magical coat was stunning, and I loved that many of the costumes had corset-style lacing in back; creates such a sense of glamorous antiquity (ancient glamor? whatever)! Trinculo sported mismatched socks, with dissimilar shoes as well. The core values of Idle Muse Theatre Company are True, Timely, and Transporting; between them Mohr and Bischoff made each character totally True.

The same can be said for Laura J Wiley’s ^she/her Lighting Design which, with Kati Lechner ^she/her directing L.J. Luthringer’s ^he/him sound and music compositions, created a multisensory domain accordant with all the disparate scenes, from a raging storm to a quiet family home and to the Ariel(s)-bewitched wildwood, certainly fulfilling the core value of Transporting. Much of this I attribute also to Stage Manager Becky Warner ^she/her and her Associate Lindsey Chidester ^she/her. Pulling all these diverse variants together into a smooth, tangible, inclusive Truth can only happen when excellent direction of a superlative cast is so masterfully Managed as to unite all elements.

Idle Muse’s third core value is Timely, and what could be timelier in the American election year of 2024 than a production that transports us to the Truth? It’s tempting to draw comparisons between fictional and political characters, but it’s unnecessary. The Tempest’s fundamental, essential message is about forming and maintaining relationships: between parents and children, teachers and students, leaders and followers. Forming and maintaining relationships is basic, but never simple, and always requires mutual and correspondent forgiveness.

I recently encountered a new word that I like very much: Ubuntu, or ‘I am because we are’. This term originates from the Zulu and Xhosa languages, and it loosely translates to ‘humanity towards others’. In honor of Bilbo’s and Frodo’s birthdays (as well as my own!), I offer it here in Elvish (Ariel-ish?) Tengwar script:

The Tempest is 2½ hours long, including one intermission.

The Tempest plays at The Edge Off-Broadway through October 20; last nights’ performance was sold out so I VERY Highly Recommend you get your tickets early!

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

I think I’d better begin by answering some questions, starting with ‘WTF is the title of this show?’ to which I respond, the title actually is "[title of show]."

The play was conceived by a pair of artists in NYC, Jeff Bowen (Jonah Cochin) and Hunter Bell (Casey Coppess). Upon learning of the upcoming New York Musical Theatre Festival, they decide to write and submit a musical. There’s just a few problems with doing that: (1) the Festival is only three weeks away, and (2) they’re determined to write an original rather than an adaptation, but (3) they have no idea what to write about, or even (4) what to name their musical. Coming right down to the wire without a name, they end up using the space on the application form asking for [Title of Show] and name their musical [title of show].

Early attempts clearly illustrate that Hunter and Jeff truly do not have any idea what their musical should be about … not until they realize that their conversations about what to write are more interesting than what they’re actually writing! And thus it happens that these Two Nobodies from New York write a musical about two guys writing a musical about two guys writing a musical.

Shannon McEldowney (left), Jonah Cochin, Robert Ollis (at keyboard), Lexi Alioto, and Casey Coppess .

Jeff and Hunter ask their friends Susan (Lexi Alioto) and Heidi (Shannon McEldowney) to help, as well as Larry (Robert Ollis) to man the keyboard. The four converse and natter and brainstorm, kibitz, palaver and schmooze via a slew of hysterically funny songs, discussing the complexities of receiving money for art (is it success or selling out?) and the problems of loyalties vs. practicalities, learning unexpected lessons about themselves along the way.

I think you could call this a QueerMoot. Actually I don’t know if you could or not but I just did, so it’s done.

If you have any friends of the theatrical persuasion, you will find them depicted in [title of show] by Jeff, Hunter, Susan and/or Heidi; not surprising, as all four characters are (were?) (have been?) real people. I don’t know about Larry … we don’t get to learn much about Larry, who the Union prohibits from speaking any lines. But he sure knows his way around the eighty-eights!

The choreography by Britta Lynn Schlicht was lively and fresh, and wonderfully executed by the cast. It did, however, occasionally hinder hearing. I was ready to blame that on my rock-concert-impaired old ears, until my younger companion admitted having the same problem, from Casey Coppess in particular. I couldn’t tell if this was a problem with miking or with blocking, but I suggest both Director Jay Espano and Sound Designer Valerio Torretta Gardner take a look at this issue.

Props Designer Izadorius Tortuga and Scenic Designer Anshika Pathak wisely used restraint, keeping the set minimalist and letting the play tell the story. I have to give a shoutout for Aidan Lynn Smith, whose Lighting Design skillfully delimited separate scenes; and even louder shout to Projections Designer Joel Zishuk. His projections created an informative background for many scenes, but the piece de resistance was a kaleidoscopic panorama of the Playbill covers from a bazillion musicals!

The entire production crew was ably supported by Michael Lasswell (Technical Director / Scenic Design Consultant / My Favorite Bio Writer), Assistant Music Director Annie Liu, and Assistant Director Taylor Pasche. I once asked a theatrical friend ‘just what does a Stage Manager do, anyway?’, to which they responded ‘Everything.’ Kate Schnetzer assisted Julia Witty in doing Everything, and well.

[title of show] is running at PrideArts Theater at 4139 N Broadway, Chicago, through September 22 and comes recommended.

I first read JRR Tolkien’s trilogy, The Lord of the Rings, when I was eleven; since then I have reread the entire story almost every year. My birthday is September 22, same as Bilbo and Frodo. The quote [NOT that of the One Ring!] tattooed on my arm is in Sindarin, the Elvish language. I travelled to New Zealand on an LotR tour and later lived in NZ for 2 years. So, understand that I’m not just a fan of, but fanatical about The Lord of the Rings. Believe me when I say I most definitely know Tolkien’s type.  

In 1999 when the first of the three movies came out, I was terrified, as I’ve never seen a movie based on a book I loved that was not totally calamitous. But Peter Jackson is a god, and he did as wonderful an adaptation as humanly possible (though I’ll never forgive him for Faramir).

So, when I first learned that the Chicago Shakespeare Theater was producing Lord of the Rings onstage, I immediately put in a request to review it for Buzz Center Stage. As the event drew closer, however, I started getting anxious: LotR a musical?! But my misgivings lightened as, about ten minutes before the production began, costumed characters started larking about together onstage and off-. And the opening song, ‘The Road Goes On’, melted my doubts (as well as my heart) altogether: it was beautiful, and so right!

From the start it was clear there were two distinct groups in the sold-out house: those who were LotR fans (though I daresay few as monomaniacal as myself), and those who were meeting hobbits, elves, and wizards for the first time. My companion was of the latter group – he knew the basics of the story but had no true familiarity with it – so exploring his views made an interesting counterpoint with my own.

The cast and company were enormous; forgive me if I don’t praise everyone individually but only comment on the standouts.

Only the expertise and artistry of Directors Edward Hall and Kimberly Motes could produce such a monumental show. I’ll always see Aragon as quintessentially Viggo Mortensen, but Bob Mason’s casting was spot on: Will James Jr. fully engaged me in the role. Sir Ian McKellan is a tough act to follow, but Tom Amandes’ Gandalf was magnificent. The Hobbits – Eileen Doan as Merry, Ben Mathew as Pippin, Michael Kurowski as heroic Sam Gamgee, and Rick Hall as Bilbo – were all sensational – though I wish we’d heard more from them and gotten to know them better. Frodo’s is a very complex character, from the lighthearted Frodo of Bag End to the tormented Frodo on Mount Doom; a challenge for any actor. Elijah Wood nailed it of course, and so amazingly did Spencer Davis Milford. [It’s true Spencer isn’t (quite) as cute as Elijah, but then few folks are.]

The highest kudos I must reserve for Tony Bozzuto, whose portrayal of Gollum was phenomenal. Bozzuto accomplished the physical gymnastics of that kinetic creature and faultlessly enacted the contradictory mindset of that haunted, driven … what? not a person, more a wraith or an apparition, and a groveling vassal of the unholy trinity: the Ring, the Dark Lord, and Frodo Baggins, simultaneously and irreconcilably. Poor Gollum! Bozzuto managed to incite in me both Sam’s cynical aversion and Frodo’s compassionate empathy. He owned the stage whenever he appeared.

Justin Albinder (Legolas), Ian Maryfield (Gimli), and Matthew C Yee (Boromir) completed the Fellowship of the Ring, appointed by Jeff Parker as Elrond (and later pursued by Parker as Saruman). Unfortunately, we never got a chance to know any of them, aside from a few quips (“Never trust an Elf!”)

LotR is no chick flick; it’s totally a bloke’s story, but the sensual Arwen (Alina Taber) injected a bit of estrogen. I was disappointed at Galadriel: Lauren Zakrin played the terrifyingly beautiful elven queen, but the sound / mic system (Chicago Sound Designer Nicholas Pope) failed to capture the full range of Zakrin ‘s lovely soprano voice.  

Spencer Davis Milford as Frodo and Lauren Zakrin as Galadriel in Chicago Shakespeare’s US premiere of The Lord of the Rings – A Musical Tale, based on J.R.R. Tolkien’s beloved trilogy of books.

The most awesome scene in the movie Fellowship of the Ring is when Gandalf defies the Balrog, and by far the most wrenching scene is the desolation of the Fellowship, most especially Frodo, when Gandalf falls. This production gave us none of that. We barely hear Gandalf’s final gasp of “Fly, you fools!”. Then, when the Fellowship reconvenes afterwards, there is no reaction from the characters. Aragorn rather reminded me of the monitor on a primary school trip: “Everyone get to the bathroom? All here? Ok, let’s go”.

It was necessary, of course, to cut a great deal of material to bring the production in at three hours. One thing they cut was Book Two, The Two Towers. There’s no mention of Rohan at all, only nominal lines from Treebeard (voice by John Lithgow). They don’t go to Minas Tirith, no acknowledgement of (let alone depiction of a battle) Helm’s Deep. I don’t mind skipping Tom Bombadil, I never much liked him any road, but why on earth does Gandalf mention him at the end? Those unfamiliar with the books were left thinking ‘Huh? Tom Bombadil? Who dat?’

Scenic and Props Designer Simon Kenny, working with David Castellanos’ Stage Management crew, had a monumental task enacting the myriad venues and tableaus the characters move through, from the buoyant gaiety of the Shire, through the mystical glory of Lothlorien, to the malevolent horror of Mordor, with all number of epic battles generously interspersed. These phantasmagorias were enhanced by Light Designer Rory Beaton (albeit with a couple of glitches). Many of Kenny’s costumes were superb – the Black Riders in particular were truly terrifying – but not so much with the monsters, Balrog et al. And I’m not sure about Galadriel’s outfit; I kept losing track of the action in speculating whether it was a dress or a catsuit.

Oh! The Music! … yeah, that’s right; this is a musical. Book and lyrics were written by Shaun McKenna and Matthew Warchus, and the music composed by AR Rahman, Värttinä, and Christopher Nightingale. Each composer’s background and style was evident within the whole.

Christopher Nightingale is a prolific composer, orchestrator, director, and conductor, celebrated in the UK as well as the US. AR Rahman is said to have ‘redefined contemporary Indian music’. His music has been brought to national attention by multiple Academy Awards, Grammys, a Golden Globe and a BAFTA, and he brought his Eastern imprint to bear on the music of THE LORD OF THE RINGS. Värttinä is a contemporary Finnish group with a folk music/roots-based style, using multiple vocals and instrumentalists to combine traditional Finno-Ugric elements with traditional and original compositions.

I can’t pinpoint which portion of which songs derived from which composer, but it’s my private opinion that Värttinä’s folkloric imprint was what brought special charisma and bewitchment to my favorite compositions in THE LORD OF THE RINGS. For example, the introductory The Road Goes On and both enactments of Song of the Traveller were exquisite. And in Act 2, Now and for Always was resplendent, coupling Sam’s poignant lines with Gollum’s piteous voice.

Other numbers, unfortunately, did not rise to this level. Some I must describe as saccharine and others vapid: trite, repetitive, and/or simply too damn long. The production could benefit from using some of that unproductive time by deepening other portions of the show.

The Finale was, in a word, jarring. The message throughout Act II is that, after such frightful trials and momentous events, however triumphant, life simply cannot “go back to normal”. Yet Finale seems to be attempting to bring the story full circle, returning to the celebratory ambience of the Birthday Party in the Shire. A song that combined consolation with hope would, to my mind, be more harmonious with the canon.

[Sorry, can’t help it; I’m a hopeless LotR nerd! Geek]

Jeff Parker as Elrond and Spencer Davis Milford as Frodo, at center, with Will James Jr. as Aragorn, Ian Maryfield as Gimli, Eileen Doan as Merry, Michael Kurowski as Sam, Alina Jenine Taber as Arwen, Ben Mathew as Pippin, Tom Amandes as Gandalf, Justin Albinder as Legolas, and Matthew C. Yee as Boromir.

The acting was universally excellent, from the pivotal roles of Frodo, Gandalf and Gollum to those of Rosie Cotton (Suzanne Hannau) and the Ensemble: Joey Faggion, Mia Hilt, James Mueller, Jarais Musgrove, Hannah Novak, Adam Qutaishat, Laura Savage, Bernadette Santos Schwegel, and Arik Vega. Amandes was absolutely magnificent in Gandalf’s confrontation of the Balrog at the Bridge of Khazad-dúm. James’ Aragorn was regally magnetic; he brought Aragorn’s character deftly and smoothly from the rude Ranger of the North to the august High King of Gondor.

Frodo … Frodo Frodo Frodo. One of my favorite characteristics of Frodo is that of a reluctant hero – a small and insignificant person who finds himself a hero by simply doing what must be done. Milford’s acting was compelling and poignant, capturing this subtle but crucial quality. And I’ve already spoken of Bozzuto’s brilliance as Gollum.  These two actors delivered Tony-level performances.

The choreography and movement, directed by Anjali Mehra, with Fight Captains Ian Maryfield and dance captain Laura Savage, were less impressive. Again, the opening scene and song was very well done, but that good first impression was not sustained. In several scenes the ‘dancing’ consisted of merely keeping the bodies in motion with no rationale or allure, particularly with the orcs. Granted, orcs possess negligible symmetry, not to mention allure. However, the Nazgul’s maneuvers and actions in the early scenes [Flight to the Ford] were quite effective in communicating menace. [NOTE: A Maori haka* illustrates how eloquently movements can convey threat.] The center turntable was helpful in some scenes, but it doesn’t work to simply send the actors in circles as they make duplicative gestures.

The fight scenes were augmented by Beaton’s light shows, though they must be carefully coordinated to enhance without obscuring – a couple of poorly-timed light effects left the principals in the dark. And the special effects were not very special: once the Nazgul lost their horses we never saw them again (though the shriek was very well done). The Balrog … meh. And worst of all was at Mount Doom; we saw no trace of the Ring, and the explosion was decidedly anticlimactic.

The most important omission was the emotion. I mentioned the absence of grief at Gandalf’s fall, but the more important exclusions were in defining the characters and their interpersonal relationships. Sam’s love and devotion to Frodo was barely hinted at, though this relationship is of paramount importance from the beginning, in his insistence on accompanying his Master, to the end, where he is essential to Frodo’s ability to complete his Quest. Instead, it’s simply puzzling when Sam volunteers to carry the Ring. Nor do we see Frodo’s gradually falling under the Ring’s enchantment, so the climactic scene where he declares he will keep It became a ‘where’d that come from?’ moment. Similarly, we have no clue that Boromir is coming under the Ring’s spell until suddenly, at an inappropriately hectic moment, he makes a grab for it.

I could go on and on – but don’t panic, I won’t. Suffice to say that THE LORD OF THE RINGS - a Musical Tale has hobbits and elves, wizards and dwarves in the cast, but the story isn’t about them. The characters and their stories get lost, becoming merely a placeholder between songs, many of them with minimal relevance to the action (and variable quality).

In summary: I simply can’t evaluate THE LORD OF THE RINGS - a Musical Tale objectively. I’m not merely familiar with Tolkien’s work, I’ve spent countless hours immersed in it. I’m not simply knowledgeable about Middle Earth, I’ve lived there. And in this venue, I won’t elaborate on just how intimately acquainted I’ve been with the characters, as well as with the actors whom Peter Jackson selected to portray them. My companion, unfamiliar with the Trilogy, was enraptured by most of THE LORD OF THE RINGS - a Musical Tale.  For myself, I was too knowledgeable about (and I daresay too emotionally invested in) Tolkien’s stories to simply enjoy the show.

So, I’m telling you that, on the heavily-weighted scale of my judgment, THE LORD OF THE RINGS - a Musical Tale failed to tip the balance. However, I still RECOMMEND the program. So long as you’re not a total Tolkienophile, obsessed with the Canon and unable to tolerate even minor infringements, you will enjoy THE LORD OF THE RINGS - a Musical Tale. 

Recommended!

* The haka is a ritual dance that Maori warriors perform when commencing a fight. The New Zealand Rugby team, theAllBlacks, performs a haka on the field before each match.

With CAN YOU HEAR US NOW? Chicago Tap Theatre presents an original show directed by Molly Smith. CAN YOU HEAR US NOW? featured a series of original choreography from CTT dancers inspired by, referencing, and in honor of historical figures in tap dance and jazz music history from the LGBTQIA+ community. Part archival research project, part live show, this show combined tap history with the state of tap dance today, with a focus on LGBTQIA+ perspectives. The production was a celebration of queer culture and history through the eyes (and shoes) of the dancers themselves.

CAN YOU HEAR US NOW? THE QUEER TAP DANCE REVOLUTION, performed at the Edge Theatre, is Molly Smith's directorial debut, and a fine job she made of it! Each production was choreographed by a Chicago Tap Theatre (CTT) member or apprentice, including Molly herself. Her solo performance, to Lesley Gore’s You Don’t Own Me, was stunning and clearly heartfelt. She further discussed the connection she sees between tap dance and queerness.

Mark Yonally (he/him) is the founder and Artistic Director of Chicago Tap Theatre, one of the most critically well-regarded dance companies in Chicago. They perform an annual three-show season in Chicago and tour throughout both America and Europe. Their performances have been chosen as the Top Ten Dance events of the year by the Chicago Tribune, the Chicago Sun-Times, SeeChicagoDance and Windy City Media. CTT’s stated mission is to share the creativity, the history, and the pure joy of tap dance; these were clearly illustrated in CAN YOU HEAR US NOW?

The set was purposefully and effectively nearly neutral; not so the lighting! which was refashioned to enhance each piece.

The intervals between pieces were very short, which was useful for the most part. However, their duration might have been adjusted to coordinate with the mood of the dances, particularly near the end, with more emotionally charged pieces: Molly Smith’s solo, and the dance commemorating our martyrs to the AIDS epidemic. Here the rapid interruptions felt hurried and forced.

My first impression was, naturally, of the set: a stunning mural by Sholo Beverly in shades of blues and grays, the only color the red white & blue of an American flag. A series of posters were hung from the ceiling, from an announcement of a slave auction through Emancipation, the Civil Rights era and up to a headline from Obama’s first election.

1619 is the story of a journey made by an entire people: embarked upon involuntarily, maintained brutally, perpetuated coercively, and endured bitterly. Portions of the journey became gradually more volitional and intentional, e.g. the Great Migration between 1910 and the 1970s. But even that movement, though Isabel Wilkerson calls it an act of individual and collective agency, was neither truly spontaneous nor discretionary, but in response to the horrors of Jim Crow.

The journey was narrated by three individuals: playwright Ted Williams III, choreographer Marchello Lee, and Shannon Stiles, with four additional actors performing simultaneous enactments: Nicole Ross, Vanessa Love, Lucy Maura, and Ozivell Eckford, who was even more amazing on the West African hand drum as with the contemporary drum set onstage.

1619 is titled for the date that the privateer ship White Lion landed at Point Comfort [sic], Virginia, bearing 20-30 enslaved African people, who were traded by the ship’s chandler for supplies. The agonizing first scenes depicted the arrival of these terrified and traumatized people, and their sale as chattel. Indentured servitude was common in the seventeenth century, largely indigent white Europeans who were enslaved for as long as their indenture proscribed and then returned to their lives as free men. Enslaved Africans held no such contract; they were chattel slaves – property of their owners, as were their children, thus assuring an ongoing and self-renewing (organic and 100% pure; not a speck of cereal) supply of workers on whose backs the American South would build its empire of cotton, tobacco, rice, and indigo.

Our interpreters lead us to Juneteenth 1865, heralding the Emancipation Proclamation which, though flawed and limited, offered putative freedom to enslaved African workers. However, as one freedman stated, “we colored people did not know how to be free, and white people did not know how to have free colored people around them.” The result, of course, was mutual hostility and widespread mistrust, which has persisted to this day – 400 years, as Stiles repeatedly emphasized in her laments.

Stiles was superb, representing the anger, iron will, and exhaustion of Black women throughout history. The other two chroniclers debated in the hip-hop song Booker T or W.E.B.:  Williams made Washington’s accommodationist arguments while Lee aligned himself with W.E.B. DuBois, arguing for activism and reparations. I must admit this is where I began parting company with 1619 myself; attempts were made throughout to represent the virtues of both schools of thought but … see, I was 8 when Reverend King, with Bayard Rustin, Philip Randolph and 249,997 of their closest friends, Marched on Washington. There was, naturally, an article in Newsweek about it, with a sidebar specifically about the “I have a dream” speech. My mother cut that page out of the magazine and gave it to me, saying, “Keep this and remember this man. He’s a great man; he’ll go far.”  I still have that clipping in my childhood scrapbook, with the report cards and other memorabilia. Just sayin’—I’ve reverenced Dr King all my life, but at heart I’m more of a Malcolm sort of girl. Takes all types, n’est ce pas? And 1619 was written to speak to all types.

The music was amazing, comingling hip-hop, jazz, blues, spirituals, wonderful West African drumming by Ozivell Eckford and eight original songs. Marchello Lee’s choreography was marvelous, and masterfully danced by all players: Williams, Lee, and Stiles, with Eckford, Nicole Ross, Vanessa Love, and Lucy Maura. I think it was cool to see the playwright and choreographer on stage with the others; and Williams showed himself to be the consummate multi-tasker by also co-directing, with Fleetwood-Jourdain’s Artistic Director Tim Rhoze.

What didn’t quite work for me was the story sequence, despite the raconteurs. I lost the linear coherence somewhere between Abraham Lincoln and Rosa Parks, and found it difficult to reconnect, though I knew the chronicle fairly well myself.

I applaud Williams’ optimism, but I honestly can’t share it. The final song, about I See the Chains are Gone, wasn’t so much inaccurate as precocious; what event or circumstances does Williams see, present or forthcoming, that will actualize this change? The groundswell following George Floyd’s murder was squelched by a virus, and the many many subsequent murders have failed to revive that spark. Personally, I fear Williams may need to write an epilogue after November.

I was disappointed (though not surprised) at the audience: gratifyingly numerous and responsive, but overwhelmingly pale. True, this is Evanston, but the production was co-sponsored by Evanston Public Library and Northwestern University which, last time I checked, had no race restrictions in their admissions policies.  One hopes the NU Office of Neighborhood and Community Relations (the entity actually collaborating with Fleetwood-Jourdain) will put out some fliers.

Williams states in his biographical blurb that he ‘lives to inspire’. I wouldn’t necessarily call 1619 inspirational, but … let’s say it’s a safe production to recommend to your more ‘un-woke’ friends with reasonable confidence that they will learn something without being scared away. And the show is worth the time simply for the singing and dancing!

1619: THE JOURNEY OF A PEOPLE plays at the Fleetwood-Jourdain Theatre on Saturday evenings and Sunday afternoons through June 30.

RECOMMENDED

First on the stage was Tabla artist Salar Nader, considered Afghanistan’s premier virtuoso on the tabla. His unceasing accompaniment was at times almost subliminal, then bursting out with intentional significance, but ever present, keeping us firmly rooted in Afghani culture … though I hadn’t been aware that in August 2021 the Taliban banned music in Afghanistan. Welcome to the States, Salar!

THE KITE RUNNER is based on the book by Khaled Hosseini, adapted for the stage by Matthew Spangler. Be warned that THE KITE RUNNER is not a light-hearted tale of boys frolicking in fields; many scenes in THE KITE RUNNER will be triggering to many people. These duplicities and complexities are what make THE KITE RUNNER a superb story.

Amir is the protagonist and narrator of the story, splendidly played by Ramzi Khalaf.  Fitting, as Amir’s talent for writing and storytelling is a key factor in his relationship with his father Baba (Haythem Noor), who is bitterly disappointed that his son is not interested in the games of ‘real men’, like soccer.

One game that Amir is enthusiastic about is Kabul’s annual Kite Fighting contest. Kite fighting is a two-man team sport: Amir directs and steers the kite while the glass-edged line is reeled out by kite runner Hassan, ardently played by Shahzeb Zahid Hussain. This relationship between Amir and Hassan is a central and enduring theme throughout THE KITE RUNNER.  

In Kabul kite fighting the kite strings are sharp and the sole objective is to use the tension of your string to cut all your opponent’s kite strings: the game is over when there is but one kite remaining in the sky. The runner’s role is to keep continual fixity on the line: just enough traction to make the string a weapon. There are no other rules … except, of course, that only boys can play.

Salar Nadar in The Kite Runner National Tour 

Amir and Hassan are closer than brothers: born into the same house, they nurse at the same (wetnurse’) breast, they take their first step together, and they speak their first words the same day: Amir’s first word is “Baba”, while Hassan’s is “Amir”. Though they live in the same estate, Amir and Baba sleep in the palatial house, all marble walls and crystal chandeliers, while Hassan and his father Ali (Hassan Nazari-Robati) live in a mud hut against the wall of the compound. The bonds of loyalty, Baba to his servant Ali and Amir to Hassan, are strong despite Baba and Amir being Pashtun, practicing Sunni Islam, while Ali and Hassan are ethnic Hazara and Shi’a Muslims. Throughout the story Amir struggles to navigate his feelings of ethnic superiority over the natural bonds of friendship: ‘But he’s not my friend! I almost blurted. He’s my servant!’ … and ‘Why did I play with Hassan only when no one else was around?’  

The Pashtun’s genetic elitism manifests in their relationships: meek, humble Ali would never dream of sullying his fealty to his lifelong master, any more than Hassan would renege on his allegiance to Amir. Both Pashtun men, however, deceive and betray the Hazara men they love dearly. Prejudice against Hazara is widespread: Hassan is often bullied by Assef (Wiley Naman Strasser) and his brutish cronies; Amir usually defends him… usually.

BTW: Any of this sound familiar? THE KITE RUNNER is totally relevant to 2024.

The production was splendidly directed by Giles Croft, with the able assistance of Cultural Advisor and Dialect Coach Humaira Ghilzai, who has meticulously crafted every detail to accurately reflect the glory of Afghan culture, particularly the Nikah (wedding) ceremony and the sparkling Afghan national dance, attan; I’ll wager Movement Director Kitty Winter had real fun with this!

The production crew was outstanding. The minimalist sets by Barney George were perfect to contain the complexities of the script. I loved how the curtains were triangular, like kites, and how their color changed via Lighting Designer Charles Balfour. The work of Musical Supervisor Jonathan Girling, Sound Designer Drew Baumohl and Projection Designer William Simpson allowed us to differentiate our location as the story moved from Kabul to San Francisco, from the kite-fighting fields to the cramped and sterile offices at Immigration. I need to give a shoutout to Fight Consultant Thomas Schall; he had a lot of work in this production and the fights came off flawlessly.

I always make sure to praise the Stage Manager. I once asked my friend and Thespian oracle, “so what does a Stage Manager do?” to which they replied: “Everything.” So, thanks, Giles T Horne, for doing Everything and doing it Well.

What makes THE KITE RUNNER truly remarkable is its complexity. The characters are multi-dimensional and expertly crafted out. The hostile Russian occupation of Afghanistan leaves deep scars; when the only oncologist Amir can find to care for Baba has Russian parents, Baba refuses, preferring death to fraternization.

The horror, however, was well balanced. Just when I thought I couldn’t take another barbarity, a word or a skillful mannerism would make me chuckle … and thank Whoever for that! cos there’s plenty of barbarity. THE KITE RUNNER is unquestionably a tragedy, but not irretrievable; Hassan’s final message to Amir said: ‘There is a way to be good again.’ *

VERY HIGHLY RECOMMENDED!

Playing through June 23; two shows on Saturday 6/15 at CIBC Theatre

*BTW, you can get a t-shirt printed with that legend in the lobby