There’s something ominous about the severe black stage set, piled here and there with stacks of matte black boxes, that greets you as you enter the performance space at The Living Theatre for this production of George Brant‘s new play, Salvage. You have just descended a stairs from street level and you may as well be in the Underworld. Which is entirely appropriate a setting for this three-handed drama concerned with the shadow the dead cast over the living, their continued pull upon us. Thankfully this ponderous metaphysical note does not dominate the ensuing action, which most convincingly is set in the real world of mundane chores and earth bound perspectives.

We are indeed in a basement, amidst the hoarded possessions of the recently deceased Danny Ashburn, and an approaching storm threatens to engulf everything with flooding. His mother, Roberta, and sister, Kelly, are here going through the contents in a bid to save what might need saving. Roberta is all business, unsentimental in her grief, and only wants to rescue what’s worthy. Kelly, by comparison, is all emotional attachment and pleads that everything might be preserved. There’s something soft-headed and immature in her behavior; she’s yet a child in the body of a woman. Fragile and nervous, she’s no help to Roberta here, and you sense she’s never been otherwise. Enter Amanda, a girlfriend from Danny’s past who broke up with him in order to go away to college. To Roberta, Amanda’s departure was the catalyst for her son’s undoing, undermining his sense of direction in life. A decade after leaving, just as Danny was supposedly regaining his equilibrium, Amanda produced a widely read novel of their thinly disguised relationship, compounding his sense of inadequacy. Subsequently Danny remained at home, something of a recluse, working the same part time job in a record store, until his death in an accident at age forty. Kelly, however, sees Amanda as a gilded presence, a beacon from more hopeful times. In her she glimpses reflections of her lost brother and she won’t let Roberta shortly dismiss her. As well-meaning as she presents herself, Amanda is not all she appears, and secretly is looking for something she needs badly. She’s pretty much a desperate woman. The tension builds, the pot bubbles, and the stormy atmospherics are unleashed amidst the trio.

Brant’s writing is acute and realistic, never descending to sentimentality despite the hovering specters of melodrama and Tennessee Williams’s Glass Menagerie. As with the Williams classic, the characters are each entrapped by their limited perspectives – fantasy for Kelly, bitterness for Roberta, and unacknowledged guilt for Amanda. An award winning playwright (Elephant’s Graveyard) Brant yet manages to discover amidst the defeated wretchedness, a remarkable thread of hope that could possibly free all of the women, if it were grasped. It’s affecting and convincing, and should keep his play in production for some time to come.

The three actresses, Janie Tamarkin (Roberta), Mariah Sage (Kelly), and Rebecka Jones (Amanda), all founders of the company Theatre 4, commissioned the playwright to produce a three woman piece. Each displays a vivid sense of their character’s inner lives and motivations, and these performances are at once fully felt and grounded. Maryna Harrison directs incisively, letting the tensions between the trio command the scene. Theatre 4 have found themselves a winner in Salvage, and one has to hope, beyond shortened runs of the festival circuit, it might find a more enduring space in which to flourish. It’s something of a keeper.

~~~

Salvage
Theatre 4
Writer: George Brant
Director: Maryna Harrison
Obsession, seduction, deception, devotion. Three women on the edge, three secrets, one basement. It gets twisted. From an eccentric new voice in American theatre comes this riveting comic-drama about a devoted sister, a desperate mother, and a determined ex.
1h 20m   Local   New Haven, Connecticut
Drama   Comedy
Staycation: Family Vacation   Literary Lane
www.t4ct.org
VENUE #01: The Living Theatre
Thu 16 @ 6  Sat 18 @ 7  Mon 20 @ 7:15  Thu 23 @ 2  Sat 25 @ 2:15

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“History is written by the victors” said Winston Churchill and while that may be true, history is certainly interpreted by the artists.  History of The World, written by Judith Malina currently being performed at The Living Theatre not only illustrates this, but exemplifies it.  Filled with dramatic scenes of artists, philosophers, thinkers, and game-changers this interactive staging takes the audience through a journey where the goal is not so much to witness history as to experience it, explore it vicerally, and (ultimately) to know it in a way that the history books could never emulate.

The Living Theatre, founded by Malina (and Julian Beck) in 1947, is the oldest experimental NYC theatre still in existence.  This latest conceptual play is the perfect cocktail of experimental theatre with long roots: it simultaneously reflects the freshness of understanding the subtle nuances of contemporary themes, original ideas and developing concepts; while still being richly imbued with many years of  development in the experimental milieu. The result is an evening of everything New York underground experimental theatre should be – stirring, moving, a little unpredictable — at times a little uncomfortable.  If you give yourself over to the process, History of the World will allow you to experience moments of true fear, actual deeply moving pain, and (ultimately) invite you to raise yourself to a higher emotional plane – all in 90 minutes.

As the performance starts, the audience is led into a space by a number of black-clad “Guides”** who are there to inform and facilitate as they gently invite you to imitate, mime and mirror their movements in a way that soon makes sense.  There is a natural flow to the evening as the group of performers constantly swirl around creating different tableaux, scenarios and events.  While there might be an initial sense of “wait, what am I supposed to be doing here?” it is quickly swept away by the current of emotions  – after all, you are not there to carry the show but rather to be more vitally a part of a living history lesson.  There are no wrong moves — there are no wrong emotions.  And if there are any things that don’t feel good you are not expected to do more than you can.  (It is recommended, however, that if you have problems kneeling for periods of time … or sitting on the floor … you make that fact know to your Guide who will be more than generous about making you comfortable during the evening’s events).

A great deal of history is covered – quickly but not hastily – and some moments are made of pure poetic beauty (my favorite was the vignette of Amelia Earhart’s plane soaring into the skies) accompanied by nothing more than simple yet effective lighting and sound effects created by the ensemble.  Throughout the evening there is also music composed by Sheila Dabney which is played by Patrick Demayo on drums and Eric Olson on guitar.

As with any experience in life, the more you give during the evening the more you find yourself receiving as you bring your energy and core from the cave dwellers to the digital age.

The last ten minutes of History Of The World finds the room creating a new, next level and it’s astonishing how a group of strangers can unite under the umbrella of one thought and intensify it to a stunning roar.  Of course, in the midst of OWS (and its many rippling influences in today’s society) it’s even more poignant to note how fiercely this need to align energies drives all human beings.  Sometimes the goal is to align in order to change history.  Sometimes, as with this show, the goal is to gather in order to witness history.  Regardless of the purpose, the outcome is the same: a true sense of community, of bonding, and of uncovering something within ourselves that we didn’t see before.

By all means, take this opportunity to experience the latest chapter of The Living Theatre and of History of the World.  It will give you a stirring perspective of the world -and of your place in it- that you’ll carry with you for a long, long time.

**History of the World is performed by:   Diana Oh, Tom Walker, Sheila Dabney, Monica Hunken, Soraya Broukhim, Brad Burgess, Homa Hynes, Jay Dobkin, Kennedy Yanko, Kyle Ryan, Brent Barker, Antwan Ward, Mary Round, Miranda Rovetto, Rose Lovell, Jen Emma Hertel, Anna Agostino, Ana Holly, John Gasper, Erin Downhour, and Martin Lutz.

~~~

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Daniel McCoy, Cara Francis, Richard Gamboa, & Jill Beckman

Those who are even remotely familiar with the Off and Off-Off-Theatre scene in New York have, by this point, either heard of or seen work by the New York Neo-Futurists. The company, whose work has awarded them the New York Innovative Theatre Foundation‘s Caffe Cino Fellowship and the respect of critics and audiences alike, is known for pushing the envelope, to say the least. Thinking outside the box while creating said box is really what they do, and their latest piece (which is one of their longest, at a full hour compared to the dynamic two minute plays they are most known for) performed at The Living Theatre and incredibly well-directed by Rob Neill, is a tour of fear in a manner that most of us would never think of; but one can only be glad that they did and chose to share it with us.

Anyone who knows me (or some of my writing) knows that I absolutely adore “scary” things – books, movies . . . and theatre. So of course anything having to do with “fear” in a theatrical setting is something that I would want to see. However, what I found when I went to see (un)afraid is that the piece is more about what individuals find frightening; things that make you uncomfortable and threatened, and those fears are things that most of us share in one way or another  – be it claustrophobia, a ghost story, fear of the planet losing its resources, the fear of the concept of death (performed with such raw depth by Ricardo Gamboa)…or the fear of a woman who is running out of time to have a child. The last, which was performed by Jill Beckman and Cara Francis in monologues while the latter balanced the former on her shoulders (which blew me away alone) struck a chord with me, and reminded me that we attach the word fear to many things.

So, although I wasn’t necessarily going to see something that Goes Bump In The Night, or vignettes of the macabre nature, I was being shown personal experiences of the actors in the piece who brought up things that might be anyone’s nightmare. This was brought about with humor, live music, video and audio pieces; hats off to the technical director Lauren Parrish and all of the designers who made this minimal set become so many things for this playground of performance art.

Gamboa and McCoy Fearlessly Bringing Lyrics to Life

There are spooky and macabre aspects, don’t get me wrong.  The performance I saw started out with Daniel McCoy sticking a sewing needle and thread through his fingertips to form a spider’s web as the concept of fear is explained…and the actors used a ouija board to attempt to contact various people who have contributed to “frightening” artistic work throughout time. The choice for the show I saw was Tod Browning, director of Classics like the 1931 Dracula staring Bela Lugosi and Freaks (1932) – and apparently every show is going to be different.

What is another plus of the show is the manner in which people are drawn in to become a part of it. This is a very interactive show, so expect to participate unless you sit way in the back! One moment that stuck out for me was when I had a mask placed over my face and was led into a dance with an actor . . . and then was told in a sweet whisper “dance with each other” as I was paired with another audience member. Soon most of the audience was dancing, and what was at first fun and amusing became very creepy as the music and lighting added to the fact that I had no idea who I was dancing with. I suddenly was treated to another face of fear – well, more of being uncomfortable – but I didn’t mind it. It was enlightening. Even my friend I brought, who made it clear before the show that he did NOT want to participate (and who was, ironically, the first person pulled out of the audience) enjoyed himself because the actors were so engaging.

Francis, Gamboa, Beckman, McCoy

Calling upon a vast spectrum ranging from politics to tales of lost love; images of our favorite horror films or simply the dark with nothing but a flashlight – (un)afraid manages to make an impact on the audience on a myriad of levels. I walked out of the theatre feeling as if I’d just experienced something important -having learned something about the world . . . and myself. To me, that is the mark of stimulating and dynamic performance art and theatre – indeed, one would say it is the mark of a Neo-Futurist.

~~~

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Fool For Love - photo by Christina Watanabe

There’s been a lot of talk lately about Rihanna and Chris Brown in the headlines, the tabloids, the blogs, the daytime talk shows, the elevator banks … how he allegedly beat her and how they’ve allegedly reconciled. Wherever you go you’ll hear the same thing: What the hell is she thinking? I can’t even begin to speculate on what happened, or what she’s thinking. What I can say is … if it’s anything like what I think it is, it’s nothing new. And it’s been fodder for plays like Sam Shepard’s Fool for Love for years.

Some couples find something when they meet that has nothing to do with love but everything to do with passion, so they think it’s grounds for a relationship and they go for it. But passion comes in many varieties and the variety that comes with bruises and abuse is not love. Still, there must be something addicting about it for both people involved or they wouldn’t keep going back. People who do, Sam Shepard would have us believe, are Fools. I would have to agree with him there.

In this case, the two fools are Eddie (Kevin Shaffer) and May (Katie Bender) and even though we’re just given a glimpse of them one night as they battle it out in a motel room on the edge of the Mojave Desert there’s very little else we need to know of them.  Because from what we do see of them, they’ve given over their entire selves to this THING between them that holds them both captive, so much so that nothing else really exists. Other people may come into their lives, but only on the fringes and as a distraction. Other events may take them far away, but just the thought of the curve of May’s neck is enough to have Eddie drive close to three thousand miles without stopping just so he could be with her again.

After this long absence May reacts to Eddie with flashes of every emotion she can fit into that small motel room of hers: joy at seeing him, pain at having lost him at all, distrust at how much he’s willing to give of himself to her again, anger at still feeling anything at all for him. There’s also regret, playfulness, fear, lust, lethargy, animation … and other emotions that are so convoluted they have no name … they’re just tied to hard wiring in her brain. Eddie, for his part, has echos of whatever May throws out at him; when she’s clingy he’s strong, when she’s petulant he’s ardent; when she’s furious he’s violent. It’s clear that they’ve been doing this dance for a long time now, the steps are so ingrained in their movements that there’s a groove in the way they walk; they both know just how to come forward, move back, offer, pull away – physically, emotionally, verbally. Even when the other isn’t in the room they’re dancing with each other’s ghost, so powerless to break free that they tell their story over and over again living their past and their present simultaneously every time they’re together. Is it any wonder they’re so conflicted? Is it any wonder they’re twisting under this weight, hurling themselves at each other, hurling each other at objects, hurling objects across the room?  Everywhere they turn this thing they’ve created is with them and wont … go … away.

Yet even as Eddie’s telling May “I’m here now, and I ain’t goin’ nowhere” there’s barely any gentleness to him.  He’s yelling at her, his tone is harsh, his body language menacing. She’s cowering, head down, not answering him. To get a response out of her he literally flings her around the room at times; from ten rows back your cower in your chair, worried that their passion will carry over to you … that their complete obsession with each other will keep them from noticing you there at all.

Have you ever seen a couple and wonder what’s made them like this? Is it just who they are? Is it just written into their DNA that they find a match for their restless energy so that the two of them can simmer and pop and rattle together until one of them explodes and take the other one with them? Is that what happened with Sid and Nancy? Or with Joe Orton and Ken Halliwell? We may never know what happened when these couples were alone, or how they came to be the way they were, but in Fool For Love we eventually learn exactly why these particular two – Eddie and May – can’t stay together, yet can’t stay apart.

Throughout the events of the evening an Old Man (Bill Weeden) sits off to the side, commenting on what he sees, and at first his stories are quaint ramblings … texturing the past a bit and breaking up the tension.  Also helping these two from killing each other or themselves, at least for now, is Martin (Jonathan Wilde), a sweet, unassuming man who’s been seeing May for a vague period of time and who happens to be there that night to take May to the movies. To see Martin juxtaposed next to Eddie is to see why May is torn; each man is everything the other is not … and as much as she tries to convince herself that she wants a quiet life far away from Eddie with a nice man, the truth is she just wants Eddie.  Unless she doesn’t.  But of course she does.  But not anymore!  Unless he still does?  But it doesn’t matter, it’s too late!  Unless … poor Martin, he just wants to see a movie.

Soon enough, with the Old Man’s help, we get to find out what’s got these two kids so rattled. In a way … there’s really no other way they can be with each other. It suddenly all makes sense; the kind of sense that makes no sense at all.  Really, they’re just another pair of fools.

The entire cast is fantastic, and under Katherine Krause’s direction Kevin Shaffer Katie Bender and Bill Weeden manage to be explosive without being melodramatic. But my favorite moments belonged to Jonathan Wilde who is asked to do so much with such a subtle role. Without any grandstanding he managed to completely grab focus and act as the perfect catalyst to these two forces of nature; when he talked about trimming the grass around the sprinklers he was compelling; the perfect “nice guy”.  Of course he’d be the first to tell you … they finish last, those nice guys.

This great production is around for a few more days.  Don’t be a fool, see it while you still can.

Produced by The Bull, FOOL FOR LOVE will play at The Living Theatre (21 Clinton Street) March 4-22, Tuesday through Saturday at 8pm and Sunday matinees at 2pm. Tickets ($25) are available online at www.livingtheatre.org.

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