"Ghost Sonata" at nimbus theatre

nimbus theatre's production of Swedish playwright August Strindberg's Ghost Sonata is delightfully bizarre. It's a surreal world full of not just ghosts but also vampires, mummies, murders, mysteries, and one insane dinner party. The only other Strindberg play I've seen is Miss Julie which, although dark and twisted, is incredibly realistic, so I was not quite prepared for the strangeness of this play written after what is known as Strindberg's "inferno crisis." But I found it fascinating, with many ideas and layers and complex characters to contemplate. I was fortunate enough to attend on a day when there was a post-show discussion, which helped me to make sense of what I had just seen. But even without that added benefit, Ghost Sonata is a wonderfully new and innovative production of a classic piece of theater, with lovely original music, ingenious set design, and a cast that jumps into the strangeness with both feet.

Ghost Sonata is one of Strindberg's chamber plays, a play with three acts that flows like a piece of music (especially when accompanied by original music played by a three-piece onstage orchestra). In the first act we meet an idealistic young student (Andrew Sass) who has just saved a bunch of people from a collapsed building. A wily old man (Charles Numrich) uses him in his plan to get inside a grand house. The old man seems to know and be connected to many of the residents in mysterious ways, especially the Colonel (David Tufford) and his crazy wife (Karen Bix). The student is fascinated by these rich people in this fine house, so he agrees to the plan. In the second act, the old man and the student have managed to get inside the house, and the old man confronts the residents and the servants over dinner as we learn of his twisted plan. In the third and final act, the student talks with the young lady of the house (Megan Dowd) and learns about the strange happenings. Her parents are crazy, she's terrified of the servants, and despairing of life in general. The student soon realizes that what's inside this house is not as beautiful and fine as it appears on the outside.

the ghostly girl scout aids the student as the old man looks on
(Nissa Nordland, Andrew Sass, Charles Numrich,
photo by Mathieu Lindquist)

The whole thing reminded me of a warped and twisted version of Downton Abbey, where Mrs. Patmore is a vampire, Carson is angry and careless, Lady Grantham is a mummy, Lord Grantham is not who he says he is, Lady Mary is sick and frightened, and Matthew is the son of a lunatic who may be on his way there himself. If the ghost of a girl scout in the first act doesn't clue you in to what you're in for, the second act insane dinner party leaves no doubt that something is amiss. Bengtsson (Mark L. Mattison) is no Carson as he sloppily spoons soup into bowls and drops some strange pink goop on the plates in front of the guests, which some of them actually eat. And then, the transition between the second and third act, from the dining room to the flower room where the young lady spends her time, is unlike anything I've ever seen. It's quite thrilling and will blow your hair back, literally (set design by Zach Morgan, who also directs).

I apologize if I'm not making sense, but this is a difficult one to make sense of. I mean that in the best possible way, it's really quite fascinating and fun to watch. Themes of class tension, redemption, relationships, revenge, and being haunted by one's past all come into play in this strange Strindberg world. It was obvious listening to the creators talk about their work in the post-show discussion that a lot of time, thought, and effort went into creating this piece, including a new modern-day translation by Danielle Blackbird, original music by Charlie McCarron, and abstract video projections by Josh Cragun. All of these pieces come together quite beautifully in a bizarre and surreal sort of way. There's really no way to adequately describe it, you just have to see it for yourself. Ghost Sonata continues at nimbus theater through November 23.


This article also appears on Broadway World Minneapolis.

"Miss Julie" by Theatre Coup D'Etat at the American Swedish Institute

In a perfect marriage of play and location, Theatre Coup D'Etat is presenting Swedish playwright August Strindberg's play Miss Julie on the third floor of the gorgeous Turnblad mansion at the American Swedish Institute, in conjunction with their Strindberg exhibit. This intense three-person drama that examines issues of class, gender, love, and power in late 19th century Sweden plays out perfectly in the grand room. Photos of Strindberg's sets are on display, and there's even a quote from Miss Julie on the wall: "no matter how far we travel, the memories will follow in the baggage car." This may sound like a sweet and sentimental quote, but this is not a sweet and sentimental play. In context, the quote is more about these characters being unable to leave their past behind them, so trapped are they in the roles they were born into, no matter how hard they struggle to climb out of them.

The play takes place in the kitchen of a Swedish estate in the 1890's on a midsummer's eve. There is a party going on upstairs in which Miss Julie, daughter of the count, dances with the servants. She's particularly fond of Jean, the count's valet, and follows him to the kitchen, much to the annoyance of Christine, the cook and Jean's fiance. Here the power struggle between Jean and Julie begins, as Christine looks on helplessly. At first Julie has the upper hand and commands Jean to do her will, testing him to see how far he'll go. Later, after intermission during which Julie and Jean have gone to his room, and all that that implies, he has the upper hand and is unspeakably cruel to her. She bows to his will, but then remembers who she is and takes back control. It's a constant power struggle with each of them having the upper hand at different times, but in the tragic ending, there is no winner. Gender roles, sexual politics, and most of all the class structure that defines their lives all play a part in this intense and brutal drama.

"Kiss my shoe," Miss Julie commands, and Jean is forced
to oblige, while Christine sleeps unawares
(Kelly Nelson, Brie Roland, James Napoleon Stone)

The three-person cast lays their emotions bare in this intimate space, under the direction of Peter Beard. As the title character, Kelly Nelson portrays Julie's haughty confident demeanor hiding a lost and damaged young woman, desperate to find her way out. James Napoleon Stone's Jean is at times courteous and polite, sweet and loving, and cruelly opportunistic. Completing the trio is Brie Roland, who brings a grounded and sympathetic humanity to the role of Christine, who wants to return to her simple and straight-forward life before the events of this evening. The characters are quietly established in the first act, but things really heat up in the second act, as desperate emotions reach the boiling point.

Miss Julie continues in the Turnblad Mansion through October 26. It's a wonderful example of the site-specific theater that seems to be happening more and more often (see also Gremlin's production of After Miss Julie in the James J. Hill House a few years ago). The authentic setting aids greatly in suspension of disbelief, and the small cast in close quarters with the few dozen audience members makes you feel like you're eavesdropping on a real conversation. If you're able, take the stairs instead of the elevator to the third floor and peek into the dark and mysterious rooms of the mansion on your way up and down, and imagine the real dramas that occurred in this beautiful house and others like it a hundred and more years ago. (You can also, of course, tour the mansion during the daylight as part of the ASI museum.)

"After Miss Julie" by the Gremlin Theatre at the James J. Hill House

I love history.  Not the politics and wars, kings and presidents kind of history, but history about how people actually lived in years past.  I'm fascinated by the houses on Summit Avenue in St. Paul, and have visited the James J. Hill House several times.  So when I heard about a play being produced in the house I was intrigued.  And when I found out that it stars two 2011 Ivey Award winners, there was no question I was going to go see it. 

After Miss Julie is produced by the Gremlin Theatre, normally located on University Avenue in St. Paul.  But there really is no better place to see this show than in a big, beautiful Victorian mansion.  When the setting so perfectly matches the content, it lends an air of authenticity to the piece.  As I watched the drama unfold, I couldn't help but think that such a scene might really have occurred in that very room a hundred years ago.  That's kind of thrilling.  I felt like I was eavesdropping on these three people's fascinating and complicated lives.

The play is set in a large manor house outside of London in 1945; the action takes place solely in the kitchen, which in the James J. Hill house is in the basement (food was sent upstairs via a dumbwaiter so that the mess and noise of the kitchen was out of sight).  The three characters in the play are Miss Julie (Anna Sundberg), the daughter of "his lordship," John (Peter Christian Hansen), the chauffeur, and Christine (Amanda Whisner), the cook and John's unofficial fiancee.  Christine is in the kitchen doing her work (even as the audience enters the room), and John joins her after driving the master of the house to London.  Julie follows him down to the kitchen in the hopes he'll dance with her at the party upstairs.  He feels obliged, and Christine accepts the way things are even though she's not happy about it.  Julie's fiancee has recently broken off their engagement and she's desperate and out of control.  When an exhausted Christine falls asleep, Julie flirts shamelessly with John, testing the limits of his patience and his duty.  John grew up on the estate and admits that he has always secretly loved her.  Christine retires to bed, and John takes Julie to his room, at her request (command?).  Their relationship is a constantly changing power struggle; at times they are unbelievably cruel to each other, at times sweet and loving.  They toy with the idea of running away to New York together, but I don't think either of them really believes that could happen.  Julie's father, John's employer, calls, and John jumps to bring him his coffee and well-polished shoes.  Julie and John are trapped in the roles they were born into, and don't know how to get out.  There's no happy ending for this couple.

This three-person cast is excellent (directed by Leah Cooper, who also did a great job with a much larger cast in August: Osage County at Park Square a few months ago).  In the small intimate setting you get a close-up view of the look in their eyes and the expression on their faces.  Peter has this intensity that's just about to boil over, and sometimes does; you can see why Julie falls for John (Peter played another violent, angry man in True West a few months ago).  I've seen Anna three times in the last several months, and she only gets better.  Julie comes off as the spoiled and haughty daughter of a wealthy family, but we see glimpses of a lost little girl underneath.  Amanda makes Christine sympathetic; she's the only likeable character - a hard-working woman trying to find a little happiness within the limitations of her life.  The actors go in and out of the several doors to the room (what fun to crawl around in the bowels of this magnificent house).  On a few occasions they all exit the room; the audience is alone for several long moments in a deliciously awkward silence, during which we are left to imagine what is going on behind closed doors.

After the show the audience can stay for an abbreviated tour of the house.  It was a wonderfully entertaining evening - intimate, involving, brutally real theater followed by a tour of this grand house.  Unfortunately After Miss Julie closes this weekend, but check it out if you can.  And if not, go visit the James J. Hill House anyway, and see how the rich people (and perhaps more interesting, their servants) lived a hundred years ago.