Every spring John conducts a show for Opera Notre Dame. Students and faculty from Notre Dame University participate but so do selected members of the local community.  A woman that happened to chat with me in the lobby said she was there because her hairdresser’s son was in the show. A lead singer’s fraternity brothers (I assume) sat behind me and grunted in secret code whenever their brother finished a solo. One brother had even worn a suit coat over his shorts for the occasion.  I worried at first that they would be disrespectful of the performers and the other audience members, but it wasn’t like that.  Their behavior was funny AND appreciative. I relaxed when I realized that they were engaged in the show and managing to call attention to themselves without detracting from anyone else’s enjoyment.

As far as the show itself went, I bet I would have enjoyed whatever piece Opera Notre Dame had selected to perform this year, but as it happens, this year’s opera was actually a sort of hybrid opera/musical theatre piece that I had heard a lot about but never actually seen.

“Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street”

This “musical thriller” by Stephen Sondheim and Hugh Wheeler is one of those shows that are on every live theatre junkie’s bucket list. I had never even seen the movie version, so it was a treat to see and hear a fully staged version, especially one as beautifully done as this one.

Director Mark Beudert, in his curtain talk, warned us that Stephen Sondheim required them to use (I think it was) a steam boat whistle. He warned us that it was very loud “and it is not our fault.”

We all laughed then, but I jumped a mile every time that sucker blew during the show, which was usually – but not always – when yet another character was getting whacked under the mad barber’s razor.

However, the rest of the sounds – the music performed by the orchestra and vocalists under John Apeitos’ direction – were a collective pleasure. I especially admired Zachary Angus in the title role of an already insane man crazed further with grief, Lina Delmastro as Mrs. Lovett, his twisted would-be lover/enabler, and Joseph Paggi as Anthony Hope, the sailor smitten with Sweeney Todd’s daughter. Their singing sounded full and rich and spot on to my admittedly uneducated ear. I completely bought the acted aspects of their portrayals, too.

Several times during the show I snuck glances at the orchestra pit, where John was conducting with joy and specificity.  He was a pleasure to watch.

The visual of the show overall was appropriately dark, deceptively simple.  I hope I don’t sound twisted myself for saying that I loved the palette of bruise colors in Peter Beudert’s set design. I also admired the smoothness of the scene transitions and C. Kenneth Cole’s deliciously helpful lighting design. (Technical director: Phil Patnaude.  Stage manager: Terry Dawson.)

My friend Chris noticed that Lynn Holbrook’s costume designs changed subtly from modern clothes to period clothes over the first few numbers, pulling us back in time.  I wonder if that costume design, like the steam whistle, is part of every Sweeney Todd production or unique to this one.

Leana Polzonetti’s choreography made everyone look good. My favorite dance was the cumulative one where dancer after dancer joined in the “slicing” pattern until the stage was filled with a background of paradoxically systematic mayhem, just like the murders and cannibalism going on downstage.

Speaking of Cannibalism…

If I were an actor-vocalist, I think the role of Mrs. Lovett would be on my list of dream roles because there is so much complexity to explore there.   She began putting cats and rats or whatever in her pies because she was on her own and couldn’t afford more acceptable meat to keep her pie-making business going, and she lusted after Sweeney Todd even before he was sent to prison.  Now he’s back, and she wants so much to be… loved by him? Rescued from poverty by him? Her yearning is complex, and so strong that she is willing to lie to him and manipulate him and add his victims to her pies to get them out of the way.

Chris told me this role was played by Angela Lansbury on Broadway and by Helena Bonham Carter in the movie.  I can hardly imagine two more different actresses!  In Opera Notre Dame’s production, Lina Delmastro was different from either of them.  She gave Mrs. L. her own special (pardon the expression) sauciness.

I got to meet Lina, too, at the party in John’s honor later that night.  She told me that because of the kind of singer she is (mezzo soprano?), she usually plays boy parts in opera.  I am glad I got to see and hear her in this female role.

The Party in John’s Honor or, Opera around the Piano at Charles’ House

John had invited Chris and me to his friend Charles’ home for a party after the show.  Charles lives in a gorgeous, historically significant home on a street in South Bend that reminded me of North Meridian Street in Indianapolis.

I didn’t realize it ahead of time, but Charles hosts this party in John’s honor every year.  So…there were a gazillion people there to see John.  Chris and I introduced ourselves and chatted for a bit, then got out of the way so that other people could get a chance to talk with him, too.

After a while, though, John sat down at the piano…and his former and current opera students took turns singing!

I love it when I go to a theatre party and people gather around the piano to sing show tunes or whatever, but this was an intimate treat that went beyond that. This was trained opera singers sharing their gifts six feet away from me!  It wasn’t just an emotional or artistic force – although it was both of those, too – it was a physical force.  I felt that music in my molecules.

Those talented opera singers were singing for the pleasure of it, of course, and to honor their teacher.  They were not singing to be reviewed.  And while I was with them, I didn’t think about writing about them. I just kept breathing and listening and thinking how lucky I was to be there.

Still…I wish I had gotten the names of the singers that particularly impressed me.  Just for myself, I would like their names so that I can follow their careers.

Who was that little blond woman, for example, that sang like an angel from atop very high heels? And who were the other two splendid tenors that made me gasp with laughter and pleasure when they sang the “O solo mio” song together with Jay Morrissey (more about him in a moment) when John Apeitos asked them to on a whim? And who was the African-American man that sang the rich duet from “Porgy and Bess” with Tamra Garrett? (More about her in a moment, too.)  If anyone that happens to read this blog post could let me know these people’s names, I would very much appreciate it!

Towards the end of the party, after many people had left and things were winding down, I did get to speak to the two singers that had actually made me cry there in Charles’ living room.

Bliss and Catharsis

One of the songs that Tamra Garrett sang sounded familiar to me.  I think it was a song that Nicholas Cage’s character listens to on his record player in the movie “Moonstruck.” (So does that mean it was from “La Boheme?”?) In any case, listening to her sing it, I found myself tearing up to the point where a tear or two rolled down my cheek and I needed to dig around in my handbag to find a tissue after the song ended.  A woman standing near me smiled with understanding.

“It’s really something, isn’t it?” she said.

“Yes,” I said, feeling a little foolish. “I expected to enjoy it.  I didn’t expect to be so moved!”

I should tell you that this was not my first time hearing live opera, or even being moved to tears by it.  However, the other times I was sitting in the dark and there weren’t people laughing and talking and drinking cocktails nearby.

When I met Tamra later, she said that she and the man that sang the duet with her are both students at IUSB (Indiana University-South Bend.) She said they would be having a recital soon. I don’t know that I will be able to get back up to South Bend for their recital, but I’m sure it will be another treat.

Tamra also sang “Summertime” from “Porgy and Bess.”  That is one opera song that I find myself singing around the house for the fun of it, but I sing it conversationally, i.e. – low on the scale.  For an official performance, I guess it supposed to be sung very high.  At any rate, that is how Tamra sang it: at the seemingly impossible, super-humanly high pitch that opera requires sometimes.  And here’s the thing: it didn’t sound shrill or squawky the way people do when they’re making fun of opera (or, I guess, when they are trying to do it well but can’t.)   There was an exquisite expressiveness and control in Tamra’s voice.  I could hear the nuances in her tone.  It was overwhelming and maybe it made glasses break in the kitchen or whatever, but it was not painful, if that makes sense.  I thought, “Oh, THIS is what all the training is for! To make the high notes sound like THIS!”

(I know I sound like an idiot here. Oh, well.)

A little later in the evening, after I had dried my sincere but lady-like Moonstruck/Pretty Woman tears, a man sang something that put me into a full-on messy weep.  I gave up trying to use a tissue, clapped a hand over my mouth and concentrated on not sobbing out loud while still giving myself up to his singing.  I can’t tell you what song he was singing or even what it was about.  The yearning and passion in it just…got to me.

Later I found out that that man’s name is Jay Morrissey.  He is now a professional opera tenor based in Chicago but he took lessons from John Apeitos at one time.

He sang several more pieces in Charles’ living room that night and I felt lucky to hear every single one of them.

Back to Indianapolis…But Next Year?

Chris and I both hope to turn our inaugural road trip to South Bend to see and hear John Apeitos and his musicians into a yearly tradition if we can. I can’t speak for how Chris feels right this minute,  but here it is a week later and I am still “high” from the pleasure of this year’s trip.

After this wonderful reminder of how much I enjoy opera, I wish I could have made it to one of the two performances of the Indianapolis Opera’s production of “Faust” this weekend.  I will just have to keep trying to get to another of their shows.  I can’t believe it’s been over a year since I got to preview their “Carmen.”

The relatively new Intimate Opera of Indianapolis is also doing interesting things. I enjoyed their “Impressario” show in the 2011 Indy Fringe Festival but didn’t have time to blog about it.

If I lived in South Bend, I would be checking out what other shows are happening in Notre Dame’s DeBartolo Performing Arts Center. The space in which we saw “Sweeney Todd” was both elegant and intimate.

‘See you at the theatres…

Hope Baugh – www.IndyTheatreHabit.com and @IndyTheatre on Twitter.

I also loved that this is a gothic drama in the traditional sense. No vampires, no politics, no breaking into song…”just” intrigue and angst and servants, set in an English mansion in 1938.

And no poking fun at the characters behind their backs.  There is humor in this show and the exaggerations of melodrama, but it is not a satire or a spoof.  The characters are honestly themselves, and you laugh and gasp and sigh along with them.

I don’t think the characters and I were the only ones surprised by the ending, either.  Someone near me in the audience murmured, “Ah, a twist!”

The cast, directed by CCP’s artistic director Lori Raffel, includes several beloved volunteer actors giving the strong performances I’ve come to expect from them. If you see a lot of Indy-area community theatre, I bet you will recognize their names, too: Doug Powers is the tormented Maxim deWinter, with Brenna Campbell as his beautiful but befuddled young bride.  Tom McTamney and Barb Weaver are the kind and reliable friend Frank and kind and reliable servant Frith, respectively. Tanya Haas is Maxim’s bossy sister Beatrice, with (new-to-me) Steven Marsh as Major Giles Lacy, her amusingly long-suffering but affable husband. Sexy Earl Campbell is the sexy cad Jack Favell.  And Jim Lucas is the earnestly officious constable, Colonel Julyan, interviewing Dave Eckard as salt-of-the-earth boat-mender/entrepreneur William Tabb.

But Jean Adams as the deliciously warped housekeeper, Mrs. Danvers, especially, made me sit up and take notice.  Every time she appeared at the top of those stairs?  Shivers!  Followed by quiet giggles laughing at myself for shivering.

Which reminds me: if you decide to go see one of the final three performances of this show, try to arrive early so that you can sit in the center or house left.  If you sit in the seats at the very far right of the house, I don’t think you will get the full effect of Mrs. Danvers’ unnerving entrances.

Jeff Farley’s costumes are treats, as usual. I was surprised to read in my program that he also designed the set.  I wonder if this was his first gig as a set designer? In any case, he did a good job with that, too. I loved that there was an actual piano on the stage. It contributed to the feeling of a rich mansion even though no one played it.  Set construction was by Jeff Farley and by Charlie Hanover and Bernie Killian.

Director Lori Raffel designed the sound, which included touches of funny-because-just-right instrumental mood music during monologues.  I was surprised and delighted to read in my program that Bryan Fonseca designed the lighting, which was also appropriately emotionally manipulative and included a subtle slash of light across the faces of characters as they revealed – or semi-revealed – something important in their monologues.  Bryan Fonseca is the artistic director of the Phoenix Theatre in Indianapolis and a professional lighting designer.

“Rebecca” runs through this Sunday, April 29, 2012  at the Carmel Community Playhouse in the Clay Terrace outdoor shopping mall. Please see the Carmel Community Players’ website for more info: www.carmelplayers.org.

‘See you at the theatres!

Hope Baugh – www.IndyTheatreHabit.com and @IndyTheatre on Twitter.

I love comic storyteller Paul Strickland’s new CD, “Levels of Difficulty.” It was released earlier this week.

Paul Strickland is from Tennessee but you may remember him from the 2010 and 2011 Indy Fringe Festivals here in Indianapolis, Indiana. I enjoyed his 2010 storytelling show, “A Brighter Shade of Blue,” but his 2011 storytelling show, “Any Title That Works,” bowled me over.  I saw it twice.

His “Levels of Difficulty” CD has a more stand-up feel than either of his Fringe shows, which makes sense.  According to Chad Riden on NashvilleStandup.com, Paul’s CD was recorded live at the Comedy Caravan in Louisville, Kentucky.  However, just as Paul’s stand-up skills informed his storytelling shows, his story crafting skills inform his stand-up.  Both are treats.

Each track on the CD stands alone, but there are references to the title throughout.  All of his work (that I know of) is autobiographical, but Paul observes at the beginning of this CD that he needs to entertain a wide variety of people in his audience and therefore he needs jokes at various “Levels of Difficulty” to make everyone laugh at something, like a gymnast needs a variety of stunts in her routine to impress all of the judges in some way.

He sets it up in a much funnier way than I have here, however.

I like to think that I got even the Level 9 jokes on the CD but that was probably more Paul’s skill than mine.  On the surface he is such a regular, goofy guy but there is an underlying consciousness that is very appealing.  I love the juxtaposition of “unpretentious” and “smart” in his work.

Other reasons I’m glad I bought this CD:

• It is “clean” in terms of language – I think Paul says “hell” once or twice, but that is the extent of the curse words.  I am not categorically opposed to cursing, but I know how hard it is not to curse in everyday life, so I admire artists that can make crowds of adults howl with laughter without cursing.
• That Tennessee accent!  Yup, I confess: I just find it pleasurable to listen to Paul Strickland’s voice.
• That audience! The laughter of the audience on this recording is a pleasure all by itself.  They are obviously having a good time at Paul’s show: he has them in the palm of his hand and they love being there.  That joyfulnes is contagious, so this CD makes me feel good every time I hear it.  I’ve taken to listening to at least a part of this CD at the end of every day as a way of decompressing.
• I have listened to the whole CD at least six times now, and I still laugh out loud at many of the jokes and Paul’s impeccable delivery of them.  They are funny beyond their surprise, if that makes sense.

I’ll warn you that he does put down Nashville, Indiana in one segment, which is disconcerting if you’re like me and adore our Nashville quite a bit for its charm and history, thank you very much.

But I get that if you have pulled off the highway expecting another Nashville, Tennessee…well, no, that is not what you’re going to find in Nashville, Indiana.

Mostly, though, I forgive Paul for that segment because the joke is not ultimately about how bad Nashville, Indiana is or isn’t but about something else entirely.  I’ll let you hear it for yourself if you decide to buy the CD.

Actually, I don’t know if a physical CD is available anywhere.  I bought the whole collection of segments via iTunes – the first whole iTunes album I’ve ever bought!  It is also available for sale as an MP3 album on Amazon.com. Both places call the segments “songs” but except for one hilarious sung line there is no music on this album.

Okay, I’m going to go listen to the whole CD again.  But maybe later this weekend I’ll see you at the theatres…

Hope Baugh – www.IndyTheatreHabit.com and @IndyTheatre on Twitter.

Professional theatre company Acting Up Productions was only able to offer five performances of “A Steady Rain” by Keith Huff.  I am very glad I got to witness one of them!

“Witness” is the most precise word for the experience.  In this piece, the theatrical fourth wall is down.  Two Chicago police officers try to explain to the audience and to themselves how their life-long friendship and partnership fell apart.

Their efforts are heartbreaking on many levels, and not just because the body count is high.  Being in the audience is not so much about judging them as about recognizing and respecting their complex humanity, sharing their sorrow, and knowing that, as the characters themselves acknowledge at different points in their storytelling, “there but for the grace of God” go you and I.

The Script

If you are a regular reader of Indy Theatre Habit, you know that I love oral tradition “platform” storytelling as well as theatre.  Often these two performance art forms overlap. “A Steady Rain” is definitely a theatre piece, but Keith Huff’s dialogues have a tandem storytelling vibe.  The dialogue sections are therefore richer than if the two characters were just taking turns telling their version of what happened, and there is a deliberateness that serves the story more than if two actors had just acted out together what happened.

This is especially true because the tandem-style dialogues are juxtaposed with monologues.  Part of what drives the tragic ending of the play is the fact that the two men’s stories told independently don’t “match up” when compared by their lawyer or co-workers. The tandem quality of their dialogues adds another layer of irony to an already ironic play.

The monologues, too, have what I love most about oral tradition storytelling: the people being told about are as richly realized as the tellers are real.

In other words, I felt as if the wife, the hooker, the chief of police, the children, the pimp, the serial killer – all of the other characters – were on that stage with the two police officers, even though there were only two actors.  Huff’s script insists that that the supporting characters be as real as the two main characters, Denny and Joey.

I also admired how distinct – consistently distinct – Denny’s voice and Joey’s voice are in the writing, yet how much their situations mirror each other.  Denny and Joey have been friends since childhood, when Denny’s idea of fun was playing “rock tag” until he was “the last man standing” and Joey let Denny beat up on him because he was afraid if he didn’t, Denny wouldn’t be his friend any more.

However, neither man is completely aggressive or completely passive.  Neither man is completely innocent or completely cruel.  Both men are in some form of denial about their situations.

What I loved most about the script was that every time I thought, “Ah, this is a play about…” something else happened and I had to change my take on it.

The Actors and the Director

Huff’s script requires strong actors and an insightful director.  Fortunately for Indianapolis audiences, the two actors in this production – R. Brian Noffke and Sam Fain – brought the two police officers – Denny and Joey – to life with impressive grace, compassion, power, and skill under the deft direction of Scot Greenwell.

Greenwell enhanced and amplified the tension in the script through his blocking and pacing choices but also, I imagine, by drawing on his own extensive experience as an actor and collaborator to help these actors bring forth nuanced individual performances and honest chemistry.

Through the actors’ brilliant portrayals, I understood and believed not only the violent plot of Denny and Joey’s lives, but also the many (and to me more interesting) layers of their personalities and relationships.

Noffke gave Denny a raw, explosive energy that was…not sexy exactly, but attractive nonetheless, like a magnet. Or a volcano. You feel nervous being in the same room with it but you can’t leave.

Fain gave Joey a sensitive energy that was sexy in its kindness and its willingness to change, but also ignorant and dangerous in its own way.  You want him to hold you in his arms, but you don’t want to be responsible for being his “light.”

It fascinated me that both men resisted change in their own ways.  For a long time, for example, Joey looked the other way as Denny broke rules, and drank rather than admit what he felt for Denny’s wife.

Denny says more than once about his language, about the way he interacts with his family, about the way he deals with his anger and more: “I can’t help it, I can’t change, it’s what I grew up with, it’s what I’m used to…”

And you want to say, “Well, it’s killing you, don’t you see that?  It’s killing YOU as well as the people you say you love.  Not to mention all these other people that are dead because of you.”

Denny says that he would do anything for the people he loves.  But the truth is he would do anything except learn to live in the complex middle rather than in the all or nothing.

Their friendship is toxic, dysfunctional, unhealthy…pick a word.  And yet, Noffke and Fain made me believe that Denny and Joey do value each other on some level and are doing the best they can.  They do want to help each other and help themselves.  They just don’t know how.

That is why the play is heartbreaking.  Not without hope, but heartbreaking.

The Design Elements

There was not a lot of theatrical razzle-dazzle to support or distract from the acting.  (So thank goodness the acting was superb in this production!)

However, I appreciated the subtle ways in which the low-key yet professional design work did enhance the purity of the acting.

The lighting design (by R. Brian Noffke) included a lot of action in the form of frequent changes, which helped build tension as well as helping to delineate scene changes, establish settings, and evoke moods.

The sound design (by Mason Absher) included pouring rain at judicious moments – not all the time, but often enough that the audience, like the characters, thought, “Oh, it is STILL raining!”  (We are still trying to acknowledge and deal with the emotions here.)  The sound design enhanced the feeling of relentlessness in the story.

The stage manager, Danielle Buckel, did a great job of executing the many light and sound cues.

The set (by R. Brian Noffke) was minimal but incorporated the bare brick wall of the Wheeler Arts Center’s performance space to good effect. The set included a big water cooler, which is always a popular spot for modern informal storytelling in real life and which in this play is a reinforcement of the water=emotions theme.  The set also included a simple table and two chairs that became Denny and Joey’s squad car, the dining room at Denny’s house, and more.

The costume design (by Jeff Hamilton) included what I think of as “cop shoes” – businesslike but also comfortable enough to run in if need be – for both men. But Joey wore a suit, like the detective he wished to change into, while Denny wore the tough-guy leather jacket he had always worn.  Although the only props in the play were water glasses, the costume pieces served well as props in some of the scenes.

The Venue and the Circumstances

Acting Up Productions is based in Greenfield, just east of Indianapolis, but they use various venues around town.  For example, I loved (enough to see it twice) their suspenseful production of “Night of the Living Dead, Part One” at the Indy Fringe Theatre last fall.  And their production of “Two Rooms” by Lee Blessing at Theatre on the Square this past January set a new bar for the definitions of powerful and moving.

They offered “A Steady Rain” at the Wheeler Arts Center in the quirky Fountain Square neighborhood on the near south side of Indianapolis.  Wheeler Arts happens to be right next to a police station.  After the show, I noticed two or three officers standing outside, talking.  I wanted to go over and ask them about the pressures of their job.  I am also curious about what it would be like to be in an audience of mostly police officers for this show.

The night I went, I was one of an audience of six people: a man and woman in the back row, a family of three (mom, dad, and college student) in the second row, and me in the front row.  I know that the size of the audience was bad news, financially, for the theatre company but I confess that I loved the intimacy of it, especially for a show like this and especially because the actors didn’t let the small house discourage them or keep them from fully committing to their characters.  They could have made “eye contact” with some of the empty chairs and felt safer, but they didn’t.  They made eye contact with us, the way the real Denny and Joey would have.

And the six of us were listening deeply and alertly, fully committed to being witnesses, too, so…well, the only way I know how to describe it is to say that the sacredness of the theatre space was allowed to appear.  I mean, the sacredness is always there, but sometimes it is hidden by rattling candy wrappers and flashes of cell phone lights or whatever.  There wasn’t any of that restlessness the night I went.

I know that theatre companies can’t survive with only six tickets ($15 each) sold per night. Brian Noffke told me later that they pay $100 per night just for the right to perform the script, never mind paying the actors or crew or designers or staff, or renting the space for rehearsals and performances, or printing programs and posters and so on.

I also know that a small audience does not necessarily guarantee mindfulness.

So…for a number of reasons I felt privileged to be part of that particular performance.

After the show, in the lobby, I told Acting Up’s business manager Elizabeth A. Williams, “I feel like cursing!  Like Denny!” And then I did.  I said, “Sh*t, that was f*cking great!”  Hah!

Outside the theatre, the family was lingering.  They included me in their conversation.  They had come on a whim.  We were all a little emotionally high from the show.  The daughter said, “I am a theatre major, home for spring break.

“THAT…” she pointed back inside “…is why I love live theatre.”

Future Projects for Acting Up Productions

I heard that other audiences for the short run of “A Steady Rain” were larger, which means we will get to see more of this company’s work.  Whew!  Acting Up Productions has an interesting mix of shows coming up in various locations, including “Night of the Living Dead – Part II” at the Wheeler Arts Center this fall. For more information, please see www.actingup-productions.com.

‘See you at the theatres!

Hope Baugh – www.IndyTheatreHabit.com

(All photos above were taken by Elizabeth A. Williams and are used with permission. Roll your mouse over each one to see the people’s names.  I know, I know: you want to be able to read Indy Theatre Habit on your mobile device, too.  I’m working on it.)

Update 4-5-12 – After I posted this, I learned that the folks at Acting Up Productions plan to offer “A Steady Rain” again!  Watch their website for info about where and when.

For example, I remember him as the eerie General Mackenzie in the Epilogue Players’ production of “And Then There Were None” on the north side of Indianapolis. (Link is to the review thread about this show on IndianaAuditions.com when I was writing as Amaryllis.)

And as the hilarious, self-described “old country doctor specializing in ear, nose, and truck” in Center Stage’s production of “Those Crazy Ladies in the House on the Corner” in Lebanon, Indiana.

And as the devilish Applegate making offers on our souls as we passed through his room in “From Dark Pages” at the Morris-Butler House in downtown Indianapolis.

And as the whimsical storyteller, Lafferty-of-Old, in the Westfield Playhouse’s production of “Lafferty’s Wake” in Westfield, Indiana.

I am grateful for the pleasure that Martin gave me as an audience member.  I would like to offer my condolences to Martin’s wife, Kate Hinman, who is also an actor, and to all of his friends and family.

Hope Baugh – www.IndyTheatreHabit.com

Everyone told me to bring tissues to see “August: Osage County” by Tracy Letts at the Phoenix Theatre, but you know what? I hardly cried at all.

I did, however, keep saying “Holy smokes…Holy SMOKES!” under my breath.  I also hugged my knees a lot and often barked with laughter.  When I left the theatre I felt as if I had been through a hurricane.  I was dismayed by the damage, but I also felt light and free and grateful because I had survived.

I’m laughing about it again, remembering that feeling.

I saw this intense show opening weekend and I tried, unsuccessfully for reasons that are not worth discussing now, to see it again the second weekend.  I think I will try again to see it before it closes.  It is such a good show!  I.e., it is an exceptionally rich, well-done theatre piece that brings to life a brilliantly layered, exquisitely insightful story about something all human beings have in common: family.

What “August: Osage County” Is About

A father named Beverly Weston hires a Native American woman to care for his ill wife, Violet.  Then he disappears.  Violet’s extended family – her sister, her three adult daughters, and all of their families – gather to help figure out what happened to Beverly and then deal with it.  All kinds of long-festering family issues that have never been discussed bubble up under the pressures of crisis and proximity.

The show is funny and dramatic but it never becomes a situation comedy or a melodrama.  It also never becomes preachy or self-help-y.  It respects the complexity and essentialness of families, even at their worst.  Watching this show, you somehow feel both a) respect for the fact that families are pressure cookers for human development over generations – i.e., a gift – and b) sympathy for the individuals that are being cooked, especially those that don’t make it out.

In the lobby after the show, I heard several people say, “Thank God my family was nothing like that!” I felt that way myself.  Others said, “My mother/sister/brother/father/etc. is just like the one in this show.”  I think whether you see your own family in the Westons or not, there is something universal in this show that resonates with everyone on some level.

In any case, it offers a lot to talk about afterwards.  It is “about” many things.

That Family!

If you are a regular reader of Indy Theatre Habit, you know that I almost always admire director Bryan Fonseca’s work, but he nailed this one especially well.  He chose a great script, he cast a great mix of experienced, fulltime, professional, destination actors from around Indiana plus a promising newcomer or two, and he did his shamanic (fatherly?) thing in creating and holding the space for them to take their sacred journeys as actors together. The actors’ and director’s combined power in this piece makes the Phoenix Theatre a “power spot” for the audience as well.

I am only going to name the cast because every time I try to write something about the individuals, it feels as if I am robbing the characters – and their relationships – of their complexity.  Just as in a real family, everyone plays more than one role (e.g., mother AND wife), and everyone is in more than one relationship.

So this one time, will you please just believe me that the acting is extraordinarily good and go experience it for yourself?

The cast (in alphabetical order):

• Gail Bray (Ivy Weston)
• Erin Cohenour (Johnna Monevata)
• Ken Farrell (Beverly Weston)
• Charles Goad (Charles Aiken)
• Abby Hart (Jean Fordham)
• Martha Jacobs (Violet Weston)
• Ronn Johnstone (Sheriff Deon Bilbeau)
• Diane Kondrat (Barbara Fordham)
• Richard S. Rand (Steve Heidebrecht)
• Matthew Roland (Little Charles Aiken)
• Bill Simmons (Bill Fordham)
• Gayle Steigerwald (Mattie Fae Aiken)
• Diane Timmerman (Karen Weston)

A Few Other Things I Loved About the Show

All of the design elements work together in a powerful way, too. For example:

Bernie Killian designed a “wow” set for the family’s house.  It has several physical levels and a degree of set decoration that conveys the deep level of “dug-in-ness” of this family’s emotional patterns.  You really believe that people live here and that they have lived here for years.

Michael Jackson’s nimble lighting design includes a clever “TV” that delighted me with its ghostly shadows.

Tim Brickley’s sound design includes beautiful original (I think) banjo (I think) interludes that express the sometimes wistful quality of family life, adding yet another layer to the emotional mix on stage.

Ashley Kiefer’s costumes are subtly just right for each character’s personality; I can imagine each character choosing what he or she wears, and at first glance, each is fairly “every day.”  However, the costumes also blend together artistically to say something additional about the whole family.  The costume design visually supports that most of these people are related to each other and hints at their relationships.  I am not explaining this very well, but anyway, I was impressed by the costume design.

My program says that Richard S. Rand did the fight choreography.  I was impressed by that, too, although I didn’t think about it during the show.  I just ducked.

I’m sure the show’s excellence is also due to the fact that David Santangelo and Chelsey Wood are the assistant stage managers, Nolan Brokamp was the technical director, Ashley Kiefer did props, David Graham was the production intern, and Cody Grady is the light and sound operator.

“Must See”

Lou Harry of the Indianapolis Business Journal called this show a “must see.”  I try not to use that expression but if I were going to use it, I would use it for the Phoenix Theatre’s production of “August: Osage County,” a Pulitzer/Tony-award winner by Tracy Letts. It runs one more weekend at the Phoenix Theatre.  Call 317-635-7529 for tickets.

‘See you at the theatres…

Hope Baugh – www.IndyTheatreHabit.com and www.twitter.com/IndyTheatre

(All photos for this post were taken by Zach Rosing and provided by the Phoenix Theatre; used with permission. Roll your mouse over each photo to see the actors’ names.)

3/5/12 P.S. – When I read Melissa Hall’s review on her Stage Write blog, it reminded me that while I would call this a “must see” for just about any adult, I would not suggest it for kids.  Thanks, Melissa!

I had a great time last weekend seeing “Moonlight & Magnolias” on the Dreyling Stage of the Spotlight Theatre in Beech Grove, on the southeast side of Indianapolis.  The play was written by Ron Hutchinson, directed by Brent A. Wooldridge, and produced by Phyllis Gant Munro.

Spotlight’s is the first of three separate productions of this comedy that will run in the Indianapolis area within a month or two of each other.  That is funny in itself, I know, but now that I have seen the piece once, I love that I will be able to see two other interpretations of it right away, if I can fit them into my calendar.

It will be hard to beat this first one. 

The year is 1939.  Jay Hemphill (center in above photo) is endearingly driven as the movie producer David O. Selznick.  David wants to make a movie out of Margaret Mitchell’s bestselling novel, Gone with the Wind, but so far, it is not going well.

He brings in a friend and former “newspaperman,” now screenwriting wizard, Ben Hecht, to rewrite the script.  Dean Reynolds (left in above photo) is endearingly cynical as Ben.

David also pulls director Victor Fleming off the “Wizard of Oz” project, where he has been fighting with the Munchkins anyway.  Stephen E. Foxworthy (right in above photo) is endearingly pragmatic as Victor.

The problem is, David is feeling pressure from his famous and powerful film producer father-in-law, Louis B. Mayer, and the ghost of his own father, a failed film producer, to produce a hit and quickly, but Ben can only give David a week’s worth of writing time and he has only read the first page of the novel.  David tells his devoted secretary, Miss Poppenghul (Allison Wilkerson) to load them up with bananas and peanuts for brain food and to keep out the rest of the world while they work.

David and Victor will act out the novel so that Ben can write it down in script form.

Oh, my, it is funny to watch them work, especially as the days go by and they get wearier and wearier and David’s office gets messier and messier.  Director Wooldridge has all four actors interacting at an attractively snappy pace, and the three main characters have a dynamic between them that is both natural and electric. There is a lot of physicality in this show – slaps, tussles, and more, plus, of course, the acting out of the story they are working on – but the three men make it all look real.  (Maybe it is real!  I hope they all have lots of bruise cream in their medicine cabinets at home.)

It is also fascinating to watch three different filmmakers, with three different approaches to life as well as to filmmaking, argue about how best to approach telling a story.

I admire set designer/decorator Susan Yeaw for her thought-provoking approach, too.  She put the audience on two adjacent sides of the small, square, movie poster-bedecked office (which has THREE matching old-timey phones, by the way – impressive for an all-volunteer community theatre!), perhaps to make the audience subliminally think of the myriad choices available to a filmmaker.  I wish I had thought of switching sides at intermission, just to see what the show looked like from the other side, but I bet either side is good.  A curtain or wall or something makes a sort of barrier wedge between the two sides, but if you sit in the first or second row, as I did, it is fun to be able to glance over at the “other” audience every once in a while and see your own laughs mirrored in their faces.  Actually, I only thought to do that once. The rest of the time, I was too caught up in the story to think of it.

(Update 2-19-12: I heard from someone at Spotlight that all plays on the Dreyling stage have the audience on two adjacent sides, so this wasn’t something unique to “Moonlight & Magnolias.”  I appreciate getting that information but be that as it may, the Dreyling stage lends itself very well to this particular play, and the director and set designer did a great job of working with the stage’s unusual challenges.)

Molly Bellner’s lighting design highlights (no pun intended) the humor of the show.  Jim LaMonte’s sound design grounds us in the time period.  The men all look good in their characters’ clothes, but I especially admired Miss Poppenghul’s stocking seams in Lindsey Lord’s costume design.

Spotlight’s production of this piece runs only one more weekend, through the 6pm performance on Sunday, February 19, 2012.  For more information, please see www.spotlight-players.org.  To make a reservation, call 317-767-2774 or purchase tickets online at www.brownpapertickets.com.

‘See you at the theatres!

Hope Baugh – www.IndyTheatreHabit.com

P.S. - I hadn’t been out to Spotlight for a year or two.  I was struck last weekend by how consisently the Spotlight Players have continued to improve the space and make it their own.  I wrote about their “new” space when they first acquired it in the summer of 2008.   They have come a very long way since then!

P.P. S. – Photos for this post were provided to me by Phyllis Gant Munro.  Looking at them again, I also want to give a shout out to stage manager Amanda Lane.  What a mess she and Phyllis clean up every night!

I have two announcements:

The first is that I have accepted a part-time position writing theatre reviews for Current Publishing.  They publish Current in Carmel, Current in Fishers, Current in Noblesville, and Current in Westfield. I will write approximately one review per month and in return they will pay me.

How fun is that?!

I am looking forward to this new gig but I am a little nervous about it, too.  Please wish me good luck!

The second announcement is that I no longer accept media passes unless it is for a Current in… assignment.  I will continue to write about other shows here on Indy Theatre Habit but only as I have the time and energy to do so without making myself sick.  I really appreciate every theatre that has been giving me media passes over the past four years, but I am no longer going to promise Indy Theatre Habit reviews or tweets or comments to anyone.  (Ahhh….!  Hear that?  That was my blood pressure lowering.)

If you are a publicity person, please continue to send me your press releases, publicity photos, etc. (amarylliswriter at gmail dot com.)   

‘See you at the theatres!

Hope Baugh – www.IndyTheatreHabit.com

(Photo above was taken by me with my trusty iPhone of felted birds that my sister taught me how to make.  You take wool from the hobby store and poke it and poke it and poke it with a felting needle to make it stick together in the shapes you want.  Except for when you accidentally poke yourself with the needle, it is a fun and soothing craft! And even poking your finger doesn’t happen very often if you poke your wool over a little piece of styrofoam or something.)

The 46^th Super Bowl was in Indianapolis for the first time this whole past week.  The game itself is happening as I write this on Sunday night, but I confess I don’t care much about that.  However, some of the people that I’ve written about here on Indy Theatre Habit over the years will be performing with Madonna in her halftime show.  THAT makes me wish I still had TV in my home.  And many, MANY more of my fellow Hoosiers worked hard to make sure that everyone involved with the Super Bowl – from fans to players to owners to media and more – had a fun, safe, rewarding time all week, starting last weekend.   I admire the heck out of all of them.

So I’m going to resist the urge that sometimes comes over me to make fun of professional sports and tell you instead that I’ve been thinking a lot about humor in general.

What makes a show funny?

Last Sunday I saw two very funny shows:  “Current Economic Conditions” (written by Don Zolidis and directed by Bryan Fonseca, runs through February 12, 2012 at the Phoenix Theatre) and “Debbie Does Dallas: the Musical” (book by Susan L. Schwartz, music composed by Andrew Sherman with additional lyrics by Tom Kitt and Jonathan Callicut, directed by Andrew Ranck, music/vocal directed by Roger Smith, ran through last night at Theatre on the Square.) 

Because I saw them on the same day, I was struck by the fact that they each made me laugh often and hard, yet they were very different from each other.

“Current Economic Conditions”

In “Current Economic Conditions,” a 26-year-old woman named Lily (Maria Souza-Eglen) loses her publishing job in Brooklyn and has to move back in with her parents in upstate New York (I think it was) while she looks for another job.

Her childhood room is unchanged and so is her parents’ (Charles Goad and Jen Alexander) perception of her as an adolescent.  There are all kinds of things related to these two facts that made me laugh because I could relate to Lily’s outrage.  Jim and Elaine set a curfew, for example, and threaten to “ground” her.  Please.

But Lily hasn’t grown up as much as she thinks, either.  Yes, she was street smart enough to handle living in Brooklyn and her parents really should not wait up for her any more when she goes out at night.  But she spent her money on tattoos instead of paying off the cash advances on her credit card and now she expects her parents to pay it off.  Stuff like this made me laugh because I could relate to her parents’ outrage.

These are only a few examples.

So…one reason it is easy to relax and laugh often during this play is that no one is the “bad guy” here.  The playwright makes gentle fun of both generations and you can relate on some level to everyone, including Lily’s new boyfriend, Charles (John Goodson), a sweet cutie who is also living at home with his folks while he looks for a job.  No one in this story is completely mature or completely immature.  No one is a stereotype or a one-joke character.

I also laughed because the playwright pokes fun equally at different generations in the workplace.  Lily spends time at her job at the beginning of the play writing about her boredom on Facebook instead of taking the initiative to get the training she needs to do her job well, but her boss (Cindy Phillips) is an HR nightmare waiting to happen, too.

Another thing that makes the script funny is that two of the cast (Cindy Phillips and Bill Simmons) play multiple roles.  I laughed until I hurt at Bill Simmons’ portrayal of Lily’s fantasy boss, for example.  He is a cross between the dashing hero in a bodice-ripper romance novel and a self-esteem guru.  Oh, my, I am laughing again, remembering.

All six members of the cast are hilarious: so very, very funny in their timing, delivery, movements, and more.   Sunday was my second time to see this production.  I laughed just as much or even a little bit more the second time.

I loved “Current Economic Conditions.”  It made me laugh because it was smart, fair, compassionate, insightful, sexy…

So why did “Debbie Does Dallas: the Musical” make me laugh?

“Debbie Does Dallas: the Musical”

This piece (yes, I’m using that word…let the double-entendres begin!) is based on the famous 1970s porn film.  The stage musical is not exactly pornographic in that nobody takes off all of their clothes and you don’t actually see people having sex, but it did make me blush while I laughed. 

It is about a high school cheerleader, Debbie (Emily Bohannon), that wants more than anything to become a cheerleader for the Dallas Cowboys professional football team but she doesn’t have the money to travel to the try-outs.  She and her frenemies on the high school cheerleading team (Andrea Heiden, Linda Heiden, Maria Meschi, and Betsy A. Norton) discover that they can earn money by going to more and more sexual bases (yes, I’m mixing sports metaphors) with men (Carl Cooper, Ryan Dunn, and Rich Tunnell) who will gratefully pay them big wads of cash for it.  To stiffen the plot a bit, Debbie has never gone all the way with her boyfriend, Rick (Zachary Joyce), but he wants to, real bad.  One of the other cheerleaders, Lisa (Maria Meschi), wants to take advantage of this conflict.

I almost didn’t go see this show because I was afraid it would be stupid-funny and therefore embarrassing-funny rather than truly funny.  Fortunately, though, it was funny in a way that made me laugh honestly and often, in an engaged way.  

I think the secret of this show’s success is that it pokes fun at pornography in a way that doesn’t make audience members feel ashamed of being curious about porn or ashamed of enjoying whatever pornography they may have enjoyed in real life. But nor is it deeply reflective or politically correct.  The cheerleaders are all “good girls,” whatever that means, but showers are meant to be shared in this show and candles are meant to do more than one thing.

I also think the humor in this show works because it taps into a kind of nostalgia, at least for people my age and older.  The show is set in 1978.  The pre-show music and slides made me wonder whatever happened to my high school boyfriend.  The show itself reminded me that:

In 1979, when I was a college freshman, some guys in one of the dorms got permission to show the X-rated movie “Deep Throat” and charge admission to raise money for some worthy cause.   The guys sent away for the movie and rented a projector.  In the middle of the movie the lights came on and the audience had to wait while someone changed one huge metal reel of film for another. 

This was before the Internet, before personal computers of any kind, so I and most undergrads I knew had seen very little porn before we arrived on campus.  I went to see “Deep Throat” with a group of people from my dorm.  I don’t think any of us enjoyed “Deep Throat” as a movie all that much, but we felt sophisticated and collegiate, going to see it.  Some of us were very quiet on the walk back while others tried to discuss “the film” seriously as a work of art and/or in terms of its feminist implications. 

I think “Debbie Does Dallas: the Musical” pokes subtle, affectionate fun at that pre-Internet innocence and earnestness.  Or something.

Anyway, I enjoyed “Debbie Does Dallas: the Musical” very much, even though I had never seen anything like it on stage.

My only real disappointment with this show was that there wasn’t more singing and dancing.  For a “musical,” there are relatively few songs.  What singing there was in this production was lovely.  I enjoyed Erin Cohenour’s choreography, too, but wish I could have seen more of it.

In the End

Who was it that said a comedic film has a harder time winning an Academy Award than a drama because everyone feels the same about loss and heartache but humor is unique to each person?  (Whoever said it, I’m sure he or she said it more eloquently!)

In the end, I guess I don’t want to over-analyze why a show makes me laugh, I just want to laugh.  “Current Economic Conditions” and “Debbie Does Dallas: the Musical” both did that for me.

‘See you at the theatres…

Hope Baugh – www.IndyTheatreHabit.com

Oh!  P.S. – By the time I finished writing this post, the Super Bowl was over, too.  Congratulations to the Giants for winning the first Super Bowl game held in Indianapolis.  Congratulations even more to everyone involved with Madonna’s half-time show.  I saw it on YouTube not long after it was performed this evening.  How exciting and wonderful!  Good job, Madonna!  Good job, local talent!

(Photo above is of Maria Souza-Eglen and John Goodson in “Current Economic Conditions.”  It was taken by Zach Rosing and provided to me by the Phoenix Theatre.)

The more performance art I experience, the more I realize how personal that experience is.  I love that it is personal.  I love that it is ephemeral, too.  It is impossible to sustain or even to reproduce exactly, because it is live.  The only way to truly experience a live theatre piece is to be present for it, open to it.

If you are a regular reader of Indy Theatre Habit, you know that I took a long step back in 2011.  I needed a break for a number of reasons.  One was that I was having an existential, “what am I doing here?!?” kind of crisis.  I still haven’t found satisfying answers to the many layers in that question, but I am making good progress.  And in the meantime, I have found that I miss writing publicly about my experiences at the theatres.  Maybe it’s an ego thing.  Maybe there’s more to it than that.  But in any case, I miss it.

So…I have decided to blog about theatre again in 2012, but this time doing it more…personally?  More authentically?  Anyway, more mindfully and selectively, and just see where it takes me.  As I say, I’m still figuring this out as I go along.

But first, a look back at 2011:

I experienced 91 live performance art shows in 2011.  I missed that many and more just around my home in the Indianapolis, Indiana area, so I really shouldn’t use the words “most” or “best” or whatever in this post.  Still, 91 is 91.  Here are a few end-of-the-year thoughts:

The Best Shows Artistically from 2011

Looking back over all of the shows I saw in 2011, there happen to be six shows that stand out to me now for their artistic quality.  In each of these shows, the many elements – script, acting, directing, set design, costumes, sound, lights, and more – came together in an exceptionally satisfying way.  I’m sorry I can’t list every person that contributed to making each of these shows a special treat but I appreciate them all. The six shows, in the order I saw them, are:

• “I Hate Hamlet” – written by Paul Rudnick; directed by Lori Raffel for the Carmel Community Players. (I saw this one twice.)
• “Avenue Q: The Musical” – music and lyrics by Robert Lopez and Jeff Marx; directed by Bryan Fonseca for the Phoenix Theatre. (I saw this one twice, too, and am delighted that the Phoenix is bringing it back for a second run in 2012.)
• “The Drowsy Chaperone” – book by Bob Martin and music and lyrics by Lisa Lambert and Greg Morrison; directed for the Booth Tarkington Civic Theatre by Ron Morgan at the new Center for the Performing Arts.
• “Lost: a Memoir” – written by Cathy Ostlere and Dennis Garnhum; directed for the Indiana Repertory Theatre’s “Going Solo” series.  It starred Constance Macy.
• “Night of the Living Dead,” adapted by R. Brian Noffke from the George A. Romero cult-classic film, directed by R. Brian Noffke for Acting Up Productions, presented at the Indy Fringe Theatre. (I saw this one twice.)
• “The Student” a short play written by Matt Hoverman; directed by Bryan Fonseca and presented as part of the Phoenix Theatre’s “Our Goose Is Cooked: A Very Phoenix Xmas 6.”  It starred Scot Greenwell and Charles Goad.

The Most Personally Powerful Shows in 2011

Looking back over all of the shows I saw in 2011, there also happen to be four shows that resonated with me on very personal levels, beyond the artistry and content of the shows themselves, if that makes sense. I mean, I admired the artistry in them, but I treasure my experiences of them because each one caused a strong healing or teaching or something else extra within me.  I’m not going to take a lot of space to try to explain what I mean here because it’s personal.  I’ll just list the four shows in the order I saw them and add a brief comment:

• “Paul Strickland: Any Title That Works” written and performed by comedian Paul Strickland at the Indy Fringe Festival.  This autobiographical one-man show included letters to his future self, which intrigued me and got me thinking about my own future self and what I might say to her. But also, I was at a point in my life right then when I desperately needed to meet an honorable man in order to remember they exist.  This show did that for me.
• “Beer Can Raft,” written by Lou Harry, directed by Karen Irwin for the Indy Fringe Festival.  This piece consisted of four related vignettes that on one level spoke to me joyfully and mischievously about the capriciousness of life in general but which on another level made me realize what an idiot I had been about a few things in my own life.  The wake-up call made me cry, but I appreciated getting it.
• “I Love to Eat,” written and directed by James Still for the Indiana Repertory Theatre’s “Going Solo” series, starring Robert Neal.  I hated that the IRT had hired a slim actor and put him in a fat suit to portray TV cooking show host James Beard.  Were there no fat actors skilled enough, deserving enough, to play this juicy role?  Seriously? You couldn’t have paid me to watch an actor in a fat suit.  On the other hand…it was a play written and directed by James Still. I love James Still’s work. Love won over hate, but just barely, and I dragged myself kicking and fuming to see this show.  I even experimented with being “skinny and mean” (James Beard’s expression) or rather, cold and closed off as an audience member, and for a while during the show this made me feel powerful.  But then…James Still’s words broke me open.  I can’t explain it any better than that.  And then I just didn’t care any more about who has the right to carry what baggage.  Robert Neal did a great job of bringing James’ words to life, and I left the theatre feeling wracked, but also as if I had spent the afternoon with two complex, fully human people: James Beard and myself. It wasn’t all sweetness and light, but it was good.
•  “The Student” a short play written by Matt Hoverman; directed by Bryan Fonseca and presented as part of the Phoenix Theatre’s “Our Goose Is Cooked: A Very Phoenix Xmas 6,” which was a collection of short plays, songs, etc.  “The Student” starred Scot Greenwell and Charles Goad.  Right after I saw the Phoenix’ Xmas show, I wrote in the comments on Lou Harry’s Arts & Entertainment blog on IBJ.com that “My favorite piece was called ‘The Teacher’…” (I had the title wrong) “…I was surprised to find myself weeping during it.  I guess it just pushed (in a good way) a lot of my buttons related to storytelling, writing, and teaching.”  But later I came to realize that I loved it even more because it was about the complexity and poignancy of self-acceptance. This little two-hander is on both of my “best of 2011” lists.

The Other

I also treasure the one or two theatre experiences that were almost a complete waste of my time in 2011.  I don’t want more than three of those per year and I am not interested in naming them publicly but when I go to a show and there comes a moment in which I think, “Hey, I am actually pretty bored here! I wish I had not chosen this show today over all the other possibilities!” it makes the moments at other shows in which I suddenly hug myself and think, “Oh, I am so glad I’m here!” all the more satisfying. 

In other words, experiencing a bad show now and then makes the sweet risk of theatre-going all the sweeter when I find myself at a great show.   It makes the pay-off for risk-taking all the more gratifying.

Thank you, everyone that helped to make my theatre-going adventures in 2011 so very sweet and rich.

Hope Baugh – Indy Theatre Habit

(Photo above was taken by me with my trusty iPhone.  I bid highest for this snowpeople basket in the Phoenix Theatre’s holiday auction a few years ago so now it is mine.)