"Johnny Skeeky; or, The Remedy for Everything" by Theater Latte Da at the Ritz Theater

I'm not sure what I expected from the new work of music-theater Johnny Skeeky; or, The Remedy for Everything, based on Puccini's one-act comic opera Gianni Schicchi, but it wasn't... that. #TCTheater legends Bradley Greenwald and Steven Epp have adapted the story about a wealthy man's family fighting over his will (with additional inspiration from Succession and Arrested Development) and written new English lyrics for the music. The result is the most ridiculous and delightful opera I've ever seen. If it can even be called an opera anymore; there's much more dialogue than operas typically contain. But whatever you call it, it's simply a joy to watch this outrageously talented cast sing this gorgeous music with modern, silly, and even sometimes crude words. It's a 100-minute wild romp of an opera. You have plenty of time to get to the Ritz Theater in Northeast Minneapolis and see it before it closes in early July. And if you like music, comedy, and creativity - you definitely should.

"Moonlit Walk Home" at Nautilus Music-Theater

Nautilus Music-Theater's second new original piece of music-theater this season is the lovely song cycle Moonlit Walk Home. It turns out that #TCTheater's favorite singing sisters Christina Baldwin and Jennifer Baldwin Peden have a talented poet for a mother, which isn't really that surprising; artistic talent often runs in families. Fern Green Baldwin put her writing aside to raise eight children and numerous plants and animals on 36 acres in the Minnesota River Valley outside of Jordan, Minnesota. She finally got back to writing in her 70s, and published her first book of poetry Moonlit Walk Home at the age of 80. Her daughters have adapted it into a song cycle, along with stage director Ben Krywosz and composer Daniel Nass. The result is a really beautiful collection of music that is not only a love letter to their mother, but also to finding poetry and beauty in the simple and mundane things of everyday life. 

"La Bohème" by Theater Latte Da at the Ritz Theater

Theater Latte Da's re-imagined production of the 19th Century Italian opera La Bohème, first produced in 2005, and again in 2007, was scheduled to open on March 14, 2020. They had a few previews, and then... well, we know how that story goes. But now, 22 months later, La Bohème finally had its opening night at the Ritz Theater! It's a gorgeous, thoughtful production, accessible even to those not very familiar with opera, such as myself. But of course, my interest in La Bohème is primarily as the inspiration for my favorite musical RENT. I've seen La Bohème once before pre-blog, 20 years ago, which means I remember nothing about it. Watching this performance, I was continually delighted by how familiar the characters, stories, and even specific scenes are after seeing RENT 16 times in the last 25 years. But enough about RENT, that's just this RENThead's way into this piece. La Bohème is worthy on its own without that connection, being "one of the most frequently performed operas worldwide." I'd not rather see anyone's production other than Theater Latte Da, who has, as per usual, brought a new and unique spin to the piece while honoring the spirit of the original, and made this 125-year old opera feel vital and relevant.

"The Cradle Will Rock" by Frank Theatre at Gremlin Theatre

"When the wind blows, the cradle will rock." This sweet and innocent lullaby takes on a whole new meaning in Frank Theatre's production of the 1937 musical The Cradle Will Rock. Don't feel bad if you've never heard of it; I hadn't either, and really had no idea what I was getting myself into when I went to see it at Gremlin Theatre last weekend. For a piece that was so revolutionary at the time (the original production was shut down due to its pro-union stance and skewering of the power structure), it's still extraordinarily relevant. It feels like it could have been written in 2019. As usual, director Wendy Knox and her cast and creative team have created a manifestation of the written play that is incredibly detailed, thoughtful, consistent, and true to the message. And better yet, they do it in 90 minutes with no intermission. In the past I've had problems staying engaged for over three hours at a Frank show; no matter how good the play is, that's both a physical and a mental challenge for me. But 90 minutes seems the perfect length for this sort of thing. They fully but succinctly tell the story in an incredibly effective way, without the premise wearing thin or any redundancies. It's truly a rousing and gripping piece of theater (with music!) that will stay with you long after you leave the theater.

"The Longest Night" at Open Eye Figure Theatre

Ah, winter. Those of us who've lived in a cold climate like Minnesota for a number of years know that winter is not just a season. It's a force, it's a living thing. And while maybe it's not actively trying to kill us, it certainly doesn't care if we live or die. It's all we can do to survive the cold, the snow, the dark, the seasonal affective disorder. But winter is also a welcome time to slow down, to reflect on one's life, to recharge for the coming spring. Because spring will come again, as hopeless as it sometimes feels when the temperature fails to climb above zero or a sudden snowstorm forces you to cancel your plans. But as Bradley Greenwald tells us in his solo show The Longest Night, our ancestors have given us a solution to this possible death by winter - celebration. And The Longest Night is most definitely a celebration. A celebration of winter, and a celebration that winter will end. I truly loved this show when I saw it two years ago (the solstice celebration appeals to my inner pagan), and it's just as comforting, inspiring, funny, and touching this year. Since it's virtually the same show, I'm copying what I wrote then here. I highly recommend The Longest Night as a unique and uniquely special holiday show (playing at Open Eye Figure Theatre through December 23).

"The Longest Night" at Open Eye Figure Theatre

There's one holiday that no one can escape at this time of the year, at least not those who live as far from the equator as we do here in Minnesota. And that is the solstice, the longest night of the year. It is a holiday that predates Christianity by millennia, a time when our ancient ancestors wondered if the sun would return from it's long sleep, and celebrated when it did. These solstice celebrations form the basis of modern holiday celebrations in many diverse cultures; they all begin with this simple fact of nature. Right now, here in Minnesota, we have less than nine hours of daylight, and it's decreasing every day. But soon, after December 21, that will turn around and the days will begin to lengthen to their summer height. What better reason to celebrate is there than that? The wonderfully talented local music-theater artist Bradley Greenwald has created a one-man show around this idea, and it's completely delightful. Accompanied by Sonja Thompson on the piano (and himself on the baritone), he regales the audience with songs, stories, and poems of the solstice, this winter season that we're right in the middle of. Part science lesson (complete with visual aids), part history, part mystical spirituality, The Longest Night is the loveliest of celebrations of the season.

Don't expect to hear the usual holiday songs, the ones repeated on endless repeat on radio stations and in the mall. I did not recognize more than a few songs, but they are all perfectly appropriate to the theme. From Carole King's "So Far Away" (the sun is so far away at this time of the year!), to "The Cold Song" from the opera King Arthur, to Dar Williams' "The Christians and the Pagans," to "Let the Sunshine In" from HAIR, along with the writing of Margaret Atwood, William Blake, and Ogden Nash, each selection is a celebration or a lament of this cold dark winter season.

Bradley has a gorgeous opera-trained voice and elevates every song he sings, and turns poetry and prose into music. He closes the show with a song by one of my favorite local musicians, Peter Mayer's "My Soul." Bradley turns this poignant and simple folk song into a glorious anthem that will send chills down your spine. It's always a thrill to listen to this "baritone with a baritone," never more so than in this hand-picked collection of songs and stories around a very relevant theme.

When you're doing a show about darkness and light, the lighting must be paid attention to. And it is here. From total darkness to soft candlelight to the bright light of the returning sun, Darren Hensel's lighting design highlights every point in the show. And Sean Healey's sound design allows Bradley to sing harmony with himself - if there's anything better than one Bradley Greenwald singing it's multiple Bradley Greenwalds singing!

Open Eye Figure Theatre is a lovely space but one with not a large audience, and the return of this popular show is almost sold out. But if you can beg, borrow, or steal to get yourself in that room, do so. It's a truly heart-warming experience that will help get you through the long, dark, cold nights to come. Like the cycle of the sun, we can let go of the past and begin again. (Playing through Monday, December 22 - a newly added show that has the best availability.)

"The Threepenny Opera" by Frank Theatre at the Southern Theater

Prior to my annual theater week in NYC this year, I had never seen the Bertolt Brecht/Kurt Weill ground-breaking opera The Threepenny Opera, and was unfamiliar with the music, except of course for the standard "Mack the Knife." But in a strange coincidence, I saw it twice in a little over a week - at the Atlantic Theater Company Off-Broadway in NYC as well as a production by Frank Theatre in Minneapolis. I'm happy to have the opportunity to see it twice; it's not an easily accessible piece of music-theater but it's worth the effort. I will try not to compare the two productions because they're so different and wonderful in their own unique ways, but what I find most fascinating is how two groups of people can take the same words on a page and turn them into two completely different theatrical experiences. That's the beauty of live theater.*

First produced in 1928 in Berlin, The Threepenny Opera tells the story of a criminal/mobster/thief named Macheath (aka Mack the Knife) in Victorian London. When Mack marries the daughter of his rival Mr. Peachum, head of the beggars, Mr. Peachum retaliates by trying to get Macheath arrested and hung. Despite Mack's many crimes, it's not an easy task since the police chief is Mack's buddy. But eventually, Mack is jailed and about to be hung when he's suddenly miraculously freed. The story is told through a series of vignettes and songs, with each character getting their moment to be heard.

While the Off-Broadway is perhaps a more classical interpretation, with Macheath in a pinstriped suit, bowler hat, and spats, Frank's production, with Macheath in a leather jacket, make-up, and tall boots, is more modern, grungy, and well, weird (in a good way, although I have to say I miss the spats!). It veers a little further into camp, which really works because it is kind of an odd piece.

Here are some highlights of Frank Theatre's The Threepenny Opera:

• First and foremost: Bradley Greenwald** as Macheath. He's dark and twisted and his gorgeous voice fills every corner of the spacious Southern Theater with no need for amplification.
• Speaking of - I love it when actors in musicals are not miked, and there's nothing to come between their voices and my ears. It's rare, and perhaps difficult to do when mixing sound with a band (or at least that's the excuse I've heard), but with a small band like this (musical director Sonja Thompson on piano and organ, with actors occasionally joining in on various instruments) and the excellent voices in this cast, it's quite possible and creates a perfectly mixed and unaltered sound.
• As Mr. Peachum, Gary Briggle is deliciously mischievous and mustachioed, and well-matched by Janis Hardy as the wig-adjusting Mrs. Peachum.
• Mack's women are all fantastic, from Suzie Juul's absurdly silly Polly Peachum, to Molly Sue McDonald's world-weary Jenny, to Kira Lace Hawkin's slightly crazy Lucy. Particularly excellent is the duet between Polly and Lucy as they're fighting over Mack, hilariously and beautifully sung by both Suzie and Kira.
• I was delighted to see the reunion of Officer Lockstock (Bradley Greenwald) and Little Sally (Elisa Pluhar) from last summer's Urinetown, although in a very different set of circumstances with a very different relationship!
• This is a huge cast and they all do great work.
• The Southern Theater is all decked out with racks of clothing and huge shelves full of tchochkes (set by Joe Stanley), and the costumes (by Kathy Kohl) really help to define the weird and wacky world of this Threepenny Opera.

I've enjoyed my foray into The Threepenny Opera this month, and I have to say I have a greater appreciation of the play and especially the music after a second viewing. Frank's production is well-cast, weird, and entertaining. And with sold out houses that include many theater people, they're obviously doing something right. But be forewarned: with an 8 o'clock showtime and a three hour running time, this is another one that requires a good night's sleep before attending.

*Read my thoughts on the Atlantic Theater Company's production here, and yes I did plagiarize myself for some of the background info.

**Bradley Greenwald will again be singing the music of Kurt Weill (along with two of my other faves, Dieter Bierbrauer and Christina Baldwin) in Skylark Opera's Berlin to Broadway in June, which I hear is also directed by Wendy Knox.

"Joan of Arc" at Nautilus Music-Theater

This week has been a week of one-woman shows for me.  First The Edge of Our Bodies at the Guthrie, a beautiful coming-of-age story, and then Joan of Arc by Nautilus Music-Theater.  I'm not sure if it could technically be called a one-woman show, there are beautiful voices and music coming from backstage, but the only person the audience sees in front of them is Jennifer Baldwin Peden of the famous Baldwin sisters (I saw her sister, Christina, most recently as Buttercup in H.M.S. Pinafore this summer).  Jennifer narrates the story of Joan of Arc and also embodies her.  It's a fascinating and inspirational story that I was only vaguely familiar with, and this 70-minute music-theater piece beautifully conveys her courage, spirit, doubts, and determination.

I saw my first Nautilus production at Fringe this summer and loved it, but this is the first regular season show I've seen.  This is their first show produced in their tiny studio space in St. Paul's Lowertown neighborhood, and it was in fact designed for the space.  It is without a doubt the smallest room in which I have ever seen theater; it's about the size of a living room.  Two rows of chairs are lined up on either side of the room (seating about 40 people), with a catwalk stage running between them and two small stages on either end.  It's incredibly intimate; no microphones needed (except when the disembodied voices portray accusers and are projected into opposite corners of the room).  At times Jennifer was literally three feet in front of me singing.  As I've said before, I find that there's something magical about the unamplified human voice, and when the voice is Jennifer's and you're three feet away from it, it's a pretty amazing experience.  That's another benefit of such a small, intimate space; you're not just an observer watching the show, you're part of the experience.

Joan of Arc follows the historical and mythical figure as she enters battle for her native France and is captured by the English.  She's put on trial for heresy (claiming that God and his saints and angels speak to her), wearing men's clothes, and generally being a strong woman who doesn't obey the conventions of the day (aka "a witch").  She's burned at the stake at the age of 19, as many such women were in 15th century Europe.  I'm not sure about the idea of hearing voices, but this is a young woman of strong faith and conviction who helped her people at a time they needed it.  The men in power feared her strength and conviction, and so ended her.  Through the beautiful expressive music, Jennifer creates a picture of this young woman, clinging to her faith and overcoming her doubts, refusing to back down from what she believes.

At first it was a little disconcerting to hear the music (sung by Joel Liestman, JP Fitzgibbons, and Laurie Flanigan-Hegge, with Music Director Sonja Thompson on piano and Randall Davidson on cello) and not see the musicians.  I kept turning my head, expecting to see the singers come out from behind the wall.  But they never did; they're Joan's voices, even she couldn't see them.  It was like being in her head and hearing the voices of the angels along with her.  At times they went silent (when she renounced them as her accusers demanded), and you could feel the silence and Joan's loneliness, and her happiness and fulfillment when they returned to her.

This is what musical theater is to me.  Not some big, loud, over-produced adaptation of a children's movie, but original, challenging, creative, moving.  Or in the words of Nautilus Artistic Director and director of this piece, Ben Krywosz, "telling simple stories through songs that are musically expansive, favoring emotional realism over theatrical naturalism, and creating a dramaturgical context that requires an audience's involvement, even investment."  The short run of the show closes this weekend.  They're virtually sold out for the few remaining performances, but they said to call and they might be able to squeeze a few more chairs into the space.  It's worth it.