Victor Cordell

Lisa Ramirez. Photo by Carson French.

“April is the cruelest month…..”  This famous line opens T. S. Eliot’s “The Waste Land,” generally regarded as one of the finest pieces of modern literature.  At its best, this 434-line epic poem oozes symbolism and begs never-ending analysis of its trenchant insights.  Yet, like its opening line, “The Waste Land” contains endless contradictions and ambiguities.  Indeed, Eliot provided lengthy annotations of the poem in its original publication, though some of those confuse rather than illuminate.  Detractors would submit that his episodic narrative with leaps in time, and changes in speakers and narrative style lacks cohesion.  But perhaps that reflected the way he saw the new world around him.  Further, Eliot’s frequent allusions to other literary works and use of untranslated foreign languages may seem to impress rather than inform.

John Wilkens has adapted “The Waste Land” to the stage as a vehicle for a solo performer.  Oakland Theater Project has produced the staging, starring the multi-talented Lisa Ramirez and directed by Michael Socrates Moran.  This production is the first live performance with a live audience sanctioned by Actors Equity in the state of California since the start of the pandemic.  But to accomplish the approval, the performance is outdoors, and the audience remain in their cars.  The good news with this arrangement is that the cars are parked one-deep, so that sight lines are great and the audience is close to the performer.  The audio comes through FM on the car radio.  The bad news, for the company, is that audience size is seriously limited.

Because the poem tells stories in different voices and perspectives, it is conducive to dramatic staging.  For those who wish to expand their intellectual horizons but can’t muster the motivation to read Eliot’s masterpiece, Ramirez’s recitation with interpretive movement, variation of voicing, affect, and intensity captures the viewer’s attention in a manner that few readers would self-engender.  And the performance offers a fine dose of high-brow culture in well less than an hour.  As a fine actor, she does emote effectively, although her voice is not long on the gravitas often associated with poetry reading.

This production offers the added dimension of projected images to enhance the lyrics and acting.  A video preface to the live performance of brief clips covers the history from when the poem was written to current day – a reminiscence of iconic snippets embracing everything from pop culture to war.  In the absence of a printed program, I am unable to credit the creator.  Few props appear on the earthen parking-lot “stage.”  One used to pleasant effect is a strummed mandolin, which accompanies Ramirez as she delivers the words of the blind, Greek prophet, Tiresias, in a manner like an opera recitative.

The poet doesn’t refer explicitly to a waste land, so what is the poem about?  The dominant received wisdom is that it concerns loss.  Published in 1922, American-born Eliot had lived for a decade in England, which had just suffered through World War I, and concurrently, the (inappropriately named!) Spanish Flu epidemic.  Sensing that the massive loss of life and destruction of property had permanently displaced pre-war society, Eliot foresaw a bleak future.  The poem is written in five distinct sections.  The first, “The Burial of the Dead” establishes the overriding motif, and the speaker, Marie, evidences loss of station and things when she leaves childhood behind.  The most direct reference to the uncertainty ahead appears in the final section, “What the Thunder Said,” with an expressed reference to the nursery rhyme “London Bridge is Falling Down” providing the analogy to failed civilization.

“The Waste Land” particularly resonates as a corollary to our time.   The impact of Covid-19 in the United States now approaches that of the Spanish Flu, though worldwide, the latter was 15 times more deadly than Covid-19 has been to date.  And while a devastating military war loomed in Eliot’s consciousness, this country now faces a cultural war that increasingly cleaves us into two disparate camps with little common ground between us, and in which, tragically, a large segment of the population representing one of those camps even refuses to accept empirical facts that disconfirm what they wish to believe.

“The Waste Land” is written by T. S. Eliot, adapted by John Wilkens, and produced by Oakland Theater Project.  It plays in live performance drive-in theater format at the company’s home, Flax art + design, 1501 Martin Luther King, Jr. Parkway, Oakland, CA through May 16, 2021.

Two trains, many meanings

August Wilson’s magnum opus, the Pittsburgh Cycle, is comprised of ten plays, each occurring in a different decade of the twentieth century.   “Two Trains Running”, represents the 1960s.  It takes place in the African-American Hill District of Pittsburgh, PA, in 1969.  At that time, great strides were being made in voting rights, civil rights, and women’s rights, but progress is usually uneven and incomplete, and advancement creates its own form of discrimination.

The play, which has much to offer, is dogged by its pedestrian pace, overly ambitious sweep, and some problematic characterizations.  Multi Ethnic Theater’s valiant effort lacks sufficient spark to bring out the best in Wilson’s work.

Memphis’s Diner is the setting of the play, but it has been designated for demolition by eminent domain as part of an urban renewal project.  The diner’s habitues are older black men, whose discourse is aimless and fatalistic, symbolized by their obsession with gambling the numbers.

As played by Bennie Lewis, Memphis is the only character determined to take control of his fate.  Lewis’s eyes are fiery, his look fierce, and his voice gruff, whether avowing that he will force the city to give him his price for the diner or barking orders at Risa, the cook/waitress.  Though the portrayal works much of the time, it would benefit from variation in tone.

Two other focal characters are Wolf, played by Fabian Herd, and Holloway, played by Stuart Elwyn Hall.  Herd is visually striking as the self-interested  numbers runner who dresses like a preening pimp and fancies himself the great ladies man.  Hall also looks his part as the eminence gris – unaspiring, but a thoughtful analyst and philosopher.

Sterling, played by Keita Jones, arrives as a strangely naive young man just out of prison.  However, the depiction reflects neither a bitterness nor a steely resolve that would amplify Sterling’s personality.  Through Sterling, the clash between generations in the black community is revealed.  He tries to gin up support for a political rally honoring Malcolm X, but the diner denizens are unenthused.  Their train has left the station.

And of course, by 1969, a fissure in the civil rights movement had appeared, between those who held to Dr. King’s dream and those who argued that progress would not occur without violence.  Other divides explored by the playwright are the white/black divide, with different standards and opportunities for the races, and the gender divide, with the female Risa being demeaned by Memphis and objectified by Sterling.

This production runs three hours including a brief intermission.  A subplot about Hambone, a gentle, but mentally-challenged soul, deals with abuse from within the black community.  It could be excised without loss of message.  At the same time, some political issues are not well explicated.  Some characters like Memphis and Wolf are well developed.  Yet Sterling’s contradictory actions render him incohesive rather than complex.  Beverly McGriff’s Risa seems oddly passive, despite having boldly disfigured her legs with razor cuts so that she wouldn’t be wanted by a man for her physical attributes.

Director Lewis Campbell designed the staging.  The set ably represents a poor ghetto diner – partly worn out and partly roughed out.  Two booths on either side of the thrust stage abut the front row seats, so that the Gough Street Playhouse becomes even more intimate than usual.  However, Campbell also uses extreme stage locations effectively for the public phone and the kitchen.

Campbell’s direction isn’t as incisive.  Actors are often allowed to speak at normal conversational volume, resulting in mumbled diction and a lack of energy on stage in a play that demands emotive acting to keep the audience fully engaged.  Better guidance to actors would help them better define their characters.  Finally, it is disconcerting to hear stage directions voiced to introduce each scene, as if it were a rehearsal rather than opening night.

“Two Trains Running” plays at Gough Street Playhouse in San Francisco through August 30.

Save the Last Dance for Me

” 1 2 3: A Play About Abandonment and Ballroom Dancing” is a world premier play written by Lila Rose Kaplan, appearing in the San Francisco Playhouse Sandbox Series.  It is about three sisters that we first meet as teenagers.  Their parents are political radicals that have been arrested for killing a police officer, though that act was an unintended consequence of their civil disobedience.

Along with their parents, the sisters had long been on the lam, changing residences and names much in the same manner as the 1988 movie “Running on Empty”.  After the parents’ arrest, the girls are placed with three different foster families in close proximity in Massachusetts.  As the girls to decide what names to use this time, one proposal is that they simply be 1, 2, and 3 in order of age, hence the title.

Kaplan clearly delineates the sisters, yet makes them multidimensional.   Agatha is the current name taken by 1, the eldest.   She is played by Jessica Bates, whose tall, thin physique corresponds well with the authoritarian figure she is in loco parentis.  Though austere and somewhat distant, Agatha is sacrificing, and she babysits to pay for the middle sister’s dance lessons.  Bates’ portrayal leaves room for a hidden warmth, as she demonstrably tries to keep the sisters together.

T is 2, the middle child.  Unlike her sisters, she is bitter about the itinerant life they’ve led and openly describes the parents as terrorists.  Tristan Cunningham is T, and she embodies T’s hostility to the point that you want to jump onto the stage and shake her into reason.  Though she is very close to her sisters, virtually any comment sent in her direction that doesn’t conform to what she wants to hear is met with a sharp riposte.  T has issues.

Lynn, or 3, was blessed with both a cute and a happy gene.  She has taken her name as a fractured abbreviation of Ellen DiGeneris, and her choice foretells her future in the entertainment business.  Devin Shacket plays her role frenetically and with charm.  Always positive, she is also intrusive, camcording every event she can in the girls’ lives.

To keep the family bond strong through their foster separation, Agatha institutes breakfasts at a diner owned by the mother of the final character of the play.  Jeremy Kahn as Luke completes the outstanding, highly energetic acting ensemble.  Luke is a vision of easy going and friendly.  A lover of words, yet he doesn’t seem to have academic aspirations.  However, he is a talented ballroom dancer, highly successful in competitions.

Adolescents grow to adults, and events drive people together and apart.  Thus Agatha becomes a professor whose life intertwines with the parents; T becomes Luke’s partner and gives herself totally over to dance; and Lynn becomes a reality TV  producer.  And life continues, and life ends.

Director Lauren English marshals the limited resources available for a short run in a small house deftly.  The sticks and rags set and props are modestly reconfigured to be the diner, a basement, and more.  The full width of the stage comes into play, with the appropriate use of a spotlighted front fringe, while the center stage is darkened.  The overall impact is enhanced by a significant sound track and dancing, with fine choreography by Bates for Cunningham and Kahn’s elegant execution.  Finally, the actors are superb as they transition from adolescence to maturity, with Shacket undergoing a dramatic change, well affected.

“1 2 3…..” is playing at SF Playhouse Sandbox at 533 Sutter, San Francisco, until August 30.

A Most Satisfying Quest

Who would want to try a new take on Miguel de Cervantes “Don Quixote” when the “Man from La Mancha” is one of the most successful musicals in theater history?  Playwrights who could craft a script that is a continual source of laughs would if they could find actors who could inhabit the lead parts with the highest professionalism.  Those conditions are fulfilled in Marin Shakespeare’s production of Peter Anderson and Colin Heath’s “Don Quixote”.

The premise of the play is that an old gentleman, Alonso Quijana, becomes so steeped in the literature of chivalry that he fancies himself a knight-errant.  As the self-appointed Don Quixote, The Knight of the Woeful Countenance, he sets out to conquer wrongdoers and to pursue to damsel of his dreams, Dulcinea.  In need of a squire, Quixote drafts the gullible peasant Sancho Panza with the promise of a governorship.  The pair embark on Quixote’s quest, and one misadventure after another ensues.

Ron Campbell as Don Quixote and John R. Lewis as Sancho Panza provide truly masterful depictions that would satisfy audiences on any stage.  Campbell, a master clown, creates a delusional but resolute Quixote that evokes audience empathy.  Miraculously, he maintains a deer-in-the-headlight visage throughout, whether in bluster or in reflection.  Yes, he has beady blue eyes, not large brown eyes, but if you see them, you’ll see it.  Lewis also maintains a wide-eyed countenance, conveying innocence and hope.  He’s a perfect complement to Campbell and pretty well matches his acting chops.

The acting ensemble of Cassidy Brown, Rick Eldridge, Lee Fitzpatrick, Monica Ho, and Jed Pesario perform too many roles to count.  They are the loving support system and the many antagonists along Quixote and Panza’s journey.  All five flip characterizations as fast and adeptly as a magician flips cards.

Sometimes, especially early on, it is hard to tell which ensemble actor is playing a role.  That brings us to the other star of the production, David Poznanter, who designed and hand-crafted over 25 unique commedia dell’arte masks for the actors.  The use of masks is specified by the playwrights.

Each mask creates strong characterization, whether through a bulbous nose or a grimly arched brow.  But actors’ mouths and jawlines are exposed, and the precision contouring of the masks allows full expression of the eyes.  The use of masks largely counters annoyance the audience may have in seeing multiple characters who are so obviously played by the same actor.   Masks further symbolize one of the play’s overarching themes of the thin divide between fantasy and reality.

Yet, in one of the most touching scenes, a duet with Campbell set to guitar music, Fitzpatrick appears without a mask.  But she sustains the fantasy/reality duality in a speechless scene as she artfully transforms herself from a shrouded and hunched old lady to the beautiful Dulcinea and back.

Other production values are unspectacular, but effective.  The central feature of the set is an adobe-like wall having ramps that zig and zag from top down to stage.  It serves well as a trail for Quixote’s prancing, astride his broomstick and oil can steed, Rocinante.  Props are often simple but clever.  Pillows act as sheep, so we are spared the blood letting from Quixote’s belief the sheep are soldiers.  The four windmill sails are in the form of a large cross made of pipe that actors spin like batons – or windmills.

The script of “Don Quixote” is strong overall, but the snappiness of the second act doesn’t quite meet the first.  Also, there may be too many “wink-wink” jokes.  Yet, it is a fine script with warmth and sorrow as well as humor.  Director Lesley Shisgall Currier and her artistic team and actors have taken that script and turned it into a worthy entertainment.

A Change Like No Other

“As One” is aptly depicted as a chamber opera for two voices.  The instrumental foundation of the opera is carried by a traditional string quartet, which suits the intimacy of the story.  Uniquely, only one person is represented by the two vocalists.

The poignancy of this new piece, recently premiered at Brooklyn Academy of Music, is its concurrence with the recent media frenzy over the gender transition of Bruce Jenner to Caitlyn Jenner.  “As One” deals with the before, during, and after transition of Hannah on one of life’s smaller stages – and three decades earlier, an eternity before the more accepting era we are in now.

“As One” is one of the three operas produced for the West Edge Festival, which takes place over three short but glorious weekends in Oakland at three different site-specific locations.  This production is at the Oakland Metro, a warehouse-like performing arts venue near Jack London Square that is usually home to high energy rock and related concerts.

The concept and music come from Laura Kaminsky, a versatile composer who writes in the modern, post-minimalist dissonant idiom.  She partnered with Mark Campbell, an accomplished librettist, and co-librettist Kimberly Reed, a transgender woman, whose life experience is the basis for the narrative.

The live action takes place on a spare, elevated stage, with the two singers always present, even through long musical monologues by one or the other.  They are occasionally joined by up to ten supernumeraries, who act as witnesses or silent participants to the action.  The visual simplicity of the staging is matched by the costuming, in which the singers are both in white t-shirtish tops and blue bottoms, and the supers are in white.  The effect of the simplicity on stage works well in contrast with the five video screens behind the stage that run film associated with the character’s life.  The films are designed by Reed, whose career is in that medium, notably, the documentary “Prodigal Son”, which is also autobiographical.

The story arc is almost necessarily non-linear.  Otherwise, the early section of the opera would be exclusively in the male voice and the latter in the female.  Appropriately, the voices align with the apparent gender at the respective time of each vignette, but several duets reflect the inner conflicts and transition.  Although there are light moments, Hannah’s stress during her youth as a boy predominate – from learning to write like a boy, when it is natural to write like a girl, to the confusion in watching circa ’50s-’60s sex education films.  And the violence that is disproportionately felled upon transgender people is addressed when Hannah begins to face the world as a young woman.

Both singers have rich, round voices.  Though each would seem well suited to the melodious world of 19th Century opera, mezzo Brenda Patterson specializes in new vocal music, while Baritone Dan Kempson is the more traditional.  Whatever acoustic deficiencies the site may have are overcome by the power of the vocalists.  Their portrayals are both so sensitively drawn and so in concert with one another, that it seems right to address their performances as one – as ethereal aspects of the same underlying character they represent.

“As One” opens a new page in the opera catalogue.  Dramatically, it is a sensitive depiction concerning a corner of humanity that has undeservedly been misunderstood, bullied, and deprived human rights.  The music is often harsh, as is appropriate to circumstances, but with softer edges as needed.  It is a very well spent 80 minutes.

The final performance of West Edge Opera’s “As One” is at the Oakland Metro, 522 2nd Street, Oakland, on Saturday, August 8 at 2 PM.  www.westedgeopera.org

A Farcical Take on the Mistakes We Make in Life

To contextualize Soren Oliver’s “Demetrius Unbound (or the Homeric Midlife Crisis)”, those familiar with Shakespeare’s “Midsummer Night’s Dream” will remember this title character as one of the four lovers subjected to Puck’s pixie dust.  Thus, Demetrius was tricked into marrying Helena, rather than Hermia, whose father had committed to Demetrius.

Our story picks up twenty years on in ancient Athens, when we learn that as chicken supplier to King Theseus, Demetrius is “Lord of the Fowl”, which designation becomes fodder for several plays on words.  Trapped in a comfortable, but loveless marriage, he learns of the con that led to his marriage and uses that revelation to divorce Helena and pursue Hermia, a quest that leads to complicating intersections.

The concept of this farce is clever, and the script has many moments.  But which parts seem to work may depend on the viewer’s preference for spoof versus satire versus wit, each of which abound.  A classic door-slamming sequence is well choreographed, but the set undermined the comedic impact as actors blast through one flimsy door and three curtains.

The story line is clear, but unevenness and lack of focus mark the production.  Much of Act 1 deals with the apparent infliction of a succubus upon Demetrius and his attempt to resolve it.  The remainder of the play deals more with the impacts of decisions that characters have made and the rearrangement of relationships among them, with some unexpected and humorous outcomes.

The play is populated with ancient practices, having Greek and Shakespearian references that many will enjoy.   But there is an interesting overlay of modern attitudes and values that we Californians can relate to.  Along the way, humorous anachronisms are introduced concerning health care coverage, computational technology, abusive banking, and the hard-for-the-playwright-to-resist, Nike footwear, swoosh and all.  The inclusion of modern day feminism, transgenderism, and immigrant labor give more spine and purpose to the humor.  However, the instrumentalized Motown music that plays during the scene changes is one modern element that escapes me, though I did find myself humming along to the tunes.

“Demetrius Unbound….”  is the inaugural production of Bare Flag Theatre, and the company has attracted a largely Actor’s Equity cast, most of whom have dual roles.  Each actor rises to the occasion, though some interactions between them are not as crisp as they could be.  Stacy Ross plays Helena with the brightness and sense of clarity that she seems to bring to every role she plays.  In grittier roles as Hermia and Pythia, Delia MacDougal also shines, while Gendell Hernandez’s Puck is a frenetic whirlwind of action.

The surprise performance comes from our Demetrius – the playwright, Soren Oliver, himself.  The company lost it’s lead actor one week before opening, and fortunately, Oliver also acts and already knew the lines fairly well.  He is well suited and comports himself with aplomb in the central and one of the most comic roles in the play.  The other actors deserve recognition – Robert Sicular, Dodds Delzell, Jordan Winer, and Molly Benson, all of whom performed well.

As many world premiers this work may not have its final polish, but it is thoughtful; produces many laughs; and will likely improve over the run.  Possibly with a few tweeks it will satisfy an even larger audience.

Demetrius Unbound (or the Homeric Midlife Crisis) plays at the Live Oak Theater in Berkeley through August 22.