American Players Theatre 2022, Spring Green WI

If Middle Earth had a theater, it would look like American Players Theatre. Situated on over 100 acres in the woods of Wisconsin about an hour west of Madison, the sprawling grounds include several picnic areas on rolling hills with artwork and lights hanging from the trees (very Hobbiton), where people set up elaborate picnics complete with baskets, tablecloths, and stemware, and then you walk through tall forests where the Elves might have lived sometime in the past to the "Up-The-Hill" theater, with performances out in the open in a natural amphitheater. The permanent outdoor theater was built in 1980 and renovated a few years ago, and includes about 1000 cushy comfy waterproof seats around a thrust stage, with not a bad seat in the house. The stage is set against the woods, which are lit up at night in rainbow colors. The light of the sun, stars, and moon is amplified by huge sets of stadium lights, specifically directed where they are needed (stage, aisles, audience). The setting couldn't be more magical, but more importantly, the theater that has been produced in that space for over 40 years is fantastic. I don't know how it took this Midwest theater lover so long to discover this national gem of a theater. Their eight-show summer season continues through the first week of October, with a 9th show being presented in their indoor theater from late October through November, so you still have time to make the gorgeous four-hour drive from the Twin Cities to Spring Green (if you can get tickets). Otherwise, start making plans for their 2023 season, opening in June. If you're a theater fan living in the Midwest, APT is an absolute must-see.

"Choir Boy" at the Guthrie Theater

What do you get when you combine a talented young playwright, an excellent cast that includes five up-and-coming actors and two beloved veterans of local stages, stirring a capella gospel music arranged by a local musical legend, and the Twin Cities' best director of "theater musically?" You get Choir Boy, a lovely and affecting play about a young gay man coming of age in an African American boarding school. The playwright is Tarell Alvin McCraney of the excellent Brother/Sister trilogy that Pillsbury House Theatre has produced in its entirety in the last several years. While those plays have an epic, mythical quality, Choir Boy is more grounded in reality, but just as beautifully written. Add in musical direction and arrangement by Sanford Moore and direction by Peter Rothstein, an expert at using music in the best possibly way to enhance the theatrical storytelling, and you have something quite special going on in the Guthrie's Dowling Studio.

Choir Boy centers around five young men at Drew Prep School, a fictional African American boarding school (of which, the playbill tells us, only four exist). We witness their lives over the course of a school year, beginning with graduation at which Pharus (John-Michael Lyles) proudly leads the choir in the school song, until distracted by some homophobic heckling by his classmate Bobby (Darrick Mosley), who happens to be the nephew of the Headmaster (James Craven). This causes some tension in the choir room when the boys return to school in the fall, and newly appointed choir leader Pharus kicks Bobby off the choir, while allowing his sidekick Junior (Kory LaQuess Pullam) to stay. Pharus has a sweet friendship with his roommate AJ (Ryan Colbert), and some unspoken history with David (Nathan Barlow). A new (white) teacher (Robert Dorfman) comes in and tries to shake things up, challenging the boys to think about things in a new way. As graduation rolls around again, these five young men are in a different place in their lives, a bit older, a bit wiser, a bit more lost or a bit more found. It's really a slice of life kind of play, where you can imagine these characters' lives existing before the actions of the play, and continuing after the actions of the play, in a direction that's not clearly spelled out. We don't know the full stories of their lives, but getting to watch a year of their lives over the course of 90 minutes is a fulfilling and rewarding experience.

This play truly depicts the universal struggle of being a teenager and trying to figure out who you are and what your place is in this world, when so many external sources are telling you what to do, be, and think. This is conveyed through the specific challenges of being a young gay man in a strict Christian African American boarding school. And the music, which is absolutely beautiful and essential to the piece, really helps to create the specific world. Under the direction/arrangement of Sanford Moore, these five young men create some beautiful harmonies and fascinatin' rhythms on these traditional gospel and spiritual songs with a modern twist. The music is placed perfectly to enhance the storytelling, whether the song is mournful or joyful, and happens organically in scene transitions, rehearsals, or performances.

the Choir Boys (Darrick Mosley, Ryan Colbert,
John-Michael Lyles, Nathan Barlow, and Kory LaQuess Pullam,
photo by Heidi Bohnenkamp)

John-Michael Lyles is the one member of this excellent seven-man cast who's new to the Twin Cities theater scene, and he's just perfect for his role. He creates a real and well-defined character in Pharus, alternately frustrating and sympathetic (if the Drew choir is Glee, Pharus is Rachel Berry, full of talent and not afraid to say it). The four other young men are bright young local talent seen on various stages around the Cities in the last few years, and it's nice to see them all shine as individuals and as a group in this piece. James Craven always makes everything better, here as the stern Headmaster who truly cares for these boys at the same time he's frustrated, perplexed, and annoyed by them. Last but not least is Robert Dorfman, his portrayal of the eccentric teacher in nice contrast to the otherwise strict boarding school environment and providing some comic relief - bumbling, putting his foot in his mouth, but passionate about his job and reaching young minds.

Michael Hoover's sharp set simultaneously represents five different settings (dorm room, Headmaster's office, showers, classroom, and yard) on multiple levels, making great use of the upper story balcony in the Dowling Studio. And what was it that Chekhov said? If you show a shower on stage, you must have a shower scene? Both Damn Yankees and Choir Boy deliver on that promise, although the latter with more realism.

I saw Choir Boy last Saturday night at the Guthrie Theater, home of three stages in one building. It also happened to be the first preview of The Music Man, and the joint was jumping! Even though I was annoyed to find my usual parking level full, and people clogging the escalator, hallways, and bathrooms, like the man I rode the elevator with said, it's nice to see so many people out supporting the arts. And three such different plays on the three stages - a 90-year-old Irish play that is departing Artistic Director Joe Dowling's swan song, one of the most beloved American musicals, and this exciting new play about young African American men coming of age. Some 2000 people, all gathered together in one space to share in the experience of live theater - what a beautiful thing (thanks again Joe Dowling!). Choir Boy continues through July 5.


This article also appears on Broadway World Minneapolis.

"Marcus; or the Secret of Sweet" by Pillsbury House Theatre and The Mount Curve Company at the Guthrie Theater

With programming on three beautiful and very different stages, the Guthrie Theater provides a great opportunity to see multiple shows, even on the same day. And with free wifi, multiple dining options including a lovely little coffee/snack bar, and plenty of cozy places to sit, the Guthrie is an inviting place to spend the day. I took advantage of this opportunity this week and saw a matinee of The White Snake in the Proscenium Theater followed by an evening performance of Pillsbury House Theatre and The Mount Curve Company's Marcus; or the Secret of Sweet in the Dowling Studio (next week: The Heidi Chronicles on the Thrust Stage). Neither of these two shows are Guthrie original productions, but both are such beautiful and unique expressions of what this thing we call theater can be, from a Chinese legend of a snake that takes human form, to a new and very modern play that draws from Nigerian mythology. You can read my thoughts on The White Snake here, but now - Marcus.

I've been eagerly awaiting the conclusion of Tarell Alvin McCraney's Brother/Sister trilogy, having seen the first two installments presented by Pillsbury House in the Guthrie's Studio theater in the last few years. All three tell universal stories of love, loss, family, and relationships through a specific set of characters in Louisiana, who are named for gods in the Yoruba mythology of Nigeria. We first meet this interrelated cast of characters in the first play, In the Red and Brown Water, which focuses on a young track star named Oya and the choices she is forced to make. The Brothers Size is a smaller cast, focusing on Oya's ex-lover Ogun, his brother Oshoosi, and their friend Elegba. Marcus returns to the large cast format, with the title character being the son of Elegba, long deceased (a handy family tree in the program helps explain the characters and relationships). Many of the characters from the first play, or their offspring, return in this one. The three plays are each stand alone pieces, but seeing all three of them provides a richer understanding of this world that is so specifically created in McCraney's unique voice.

Marcus and the boys
(Nathan Barlow, Mikell Sapp, and Aimee K, Bryant)

This play is a coming of age story about 16-year-old Marcus, who is dealing with the death of a family friend, questions about the father he never knew, growing independence from his mother, an impending storm, and coming to terms with his homosexuality. Marcus' father Elegba, who may also have been "sweet," could dream the future, and Marcus might have inherited that skill. He dreams about a man in a rain storm and doesn't know what it means. This short 90 minute play feels epic and mythical, with Marcus' universal story told in specific detail. This play has a much more hopeful ending than the previous two plays, as if finally Marcus can realize the dreams of those that came before him. Dreams of happiness and love and a life fully realized.

This excellent ten-person cast shines under the direction of Marion McClinton (who has directed all three Brother/Sister plays for Pillsbury House). Rising young talent Nathan Barlow is excellent as Marcus, conveying all the uncertainty of a young man struggling with his identity and his family, as well as the determination to come out on top of that struggle (someone referred to this as his "breakout performance," they obviously didn't see Passing Strange). Lauren Davis and Joy Dolo give a couple of spirited and charming performances as Marcus' best friends, one of whom is more accepting of his truth than the other, and Thomasina Petrus is strong and powerful as Aunt Elegua, who knows more about Marcus than she shares. James A. Williams is the only cast member to appear in all three plays, and his presence is warm, welcome, and familiar as he provides a connecting link between the stories in Ogun Size.

Talented young playwright Tarell Alvin McCraney has such a unique vision and voice, and these three plays create such a specific world with people that are familiar and beloved. A unique feature of McCraney's writing is that the characters speak stage directions (Marcus smiles, Ogun exits), which may take a minute to get used to but really give more insight into the characters. When characters are not in a scene, the actors sit on the sidelines in lawn chairs observing, continuing to witness the story.

Marcus; or the Secret of Sweet continues through October 5. You needn't have seen either of the previous Brother/Sister plays to enjoy this beautifully written and acted play. But definitely if you did see either of the two previous plays, you'll want to see Marcus to see how the story ends and continues. The final moments are a beautiful payoff.

"The Brothers Size" by Pillsbury House Theatre at the Guthrie Studio

The "Brother/Sister Plays" by young playwright Tarell Alvin McCraney are a complex and intense "series of stories" that tell universal stories of love, loss, family, and relationships through a specific set of characters in Louisiana, who happen to be named for gods in the Yoruba mythology of Nigeria. Pretty heavy stuff, and pretty rich material too, with which Pillsbury House Theatre is doing a pretty amazing job. Last summer they presented the first play in the trilogy, In the Red and Brown Water, at the Guthrie Studio Theater. This fall they're doing the second play, The Brothers Size*, which includes two of the same characters but a different focus. I can only hope they'll complete the trilogy next year with Marcus; Or the Secret of Sweet. I'd really love to see all three done in repertoire, which would be a huge undertaking, but also hugely rewarding to see all the stories and characters within a short time period. It takes a moment to get into the language and the structure of the plays, in which characters speak their own stage directions ("Oshoosi sleeps," "Ogun exits"). But once you do you really come to know and love (or hate) these characters.

In the Red and Brown Water tells the story of a young track star named Oya whose dreams are put on hold when she stays home to tend to her dying mother. It ends pretty tragically for Oya, and The Brothers Size picks up where it left off, although not with Oya**. The focus of this play is her ex-boyfriend Ogun Size and his brother Oshoosi, along with her little friend Elegba who is now grown and has befriended Oshoosi in prison. They're both out now, and Ogun is trying to get his brother back on track, giving him a job in his "carshack." Unfortunately, Elegba is there to drag him back in. This one ends pretty tragically too. Oshoosi and Elegba are best friends and share a lot in prison (just how much is only hinted at), but the truest relationship in this piece is between the brothers. Their parents died when they were young, so they've only had each other their whole lives. Elegba tells Ogun how Oshoosi cried for him when he was first imprisoned, and it's just heartbreaking. Ogun feels responsible for his brother; when Oshoosi went to prison he felt like he let him down somehow, and is determined not to let that happen again.

This play features a three-person cast, much smaller than the last one, and they're all spectacular. Gavin Lawrence is a captivating actor (including a dynamic portrayal of the poet Langston Hughes earlier this year). This version of Elegba is less likeable than what I remember from the last play, but just as compelling. James A. Williams also reprises his role from In the Red and Brown Water, and is convincing as the loving but frustrated brother. Namir Smallwood is new to the trilogy but not to Pillsbury House; he appeared in Buzzer earlier this year (which will be reprised at the Guthrie Studio next year). His Oshoosi is young and playful, but with a dark undercurrent from his years in prison. You can definitely feel the strong bond of family between the brothers Size.

Music is woven into this play in a really lovely way. There's a bit of singing, including a very entertaining version of "Try a Little Tenderness" by the brothers. In addition to the singing, Ahanti Young (who I've known previously as an actor, but who it turns out is also a very talented drummer) plays percussion throughout the piece, adding a soundtrack to accentuate what's happening on stage. He's playing as the audience files in before the show, which makes the pre-show waiting much more pleasant.

The Brothers Size is playing at the Guthrie Studio through the end of the month. If you saw In the Red and Brown Water last summer, you'll want to see this one too. But even if you didn't see it, it's certainly not necessary to appreciate this well-acted, well-written, moving, intense, and unexpectedly musical piece.



*I received two complementary tickets to The Brothers Size as part of the Guthrie's "Blogger Night."

**Oya was not a character in this play, but her portrayer, the lovely and talented Christiana Clark, was in the audience. I wonder if she was as upset about poor Oya's fate as I was!

"In the Red and Brown Water" by Pillsbury House Theatre at the Guthrie Studio

When I go to the Ivey Awards this fall, I'm going to recognize many more theater companies and productions than I usually do.  In the last year I've attended many shows by theater companies that I was previously unfamiliar with, and last night I crossed another one off the list: Pillsbury House Theatre (thanks to the Guthrie Studio Theater for bringing many of them into a space I'm familiar and comfortable with).

How can I describe In the Red and Brown Water?  Fortunately there was a post-show discussion that helped me understand it a little better.  On the surface the story's pretty simple.  A young woman loses her mother and her dream of becoming a track star, and wanders through her life looking for something to cling to.  The staging is very simple too; there's nothing on stage but a dozen lawn chairs on an upward sloping reddish brown floor.  But the themes are more complex; it feels like a piece I need to see a few times to fully comprehend.  Lucky for me, Pillsbury House Theatre is producing the play again in 2012, along with the other two plays in the Brother/Sister trilogy by emerging playwright Tarell Alvin McCraney.  I really grew to know and love these characters over the course of the play, so I'm curious to find out what happens to them next.  Stay tuned.

The characters in In the Red and Brown Water are named after gods in the Yoruba mythology of Nigeria; the child/prophet Elegba, the attractive bad boy Shango, the good and stable man Ogun, and our heroine Oya.  A unique feature of this play is that the characters speak their own stage directions aloud.  "Shango enters," "Elegba exits," "Oya weeps."  It was a little jarring at first, but once I got used to it I really liked it.  As was discussed in the talkback, it's another opportunity to more deeply understand the characters.  The way the actors say the stage directions gives the audience insight into their feelings: sad, angry, confident, joyful.  Towards the end of the play Oya begins to say everyone's stage directions, perhaps because she's starting to take control of her own life.

Oya is a high school track star from the projects in San Pere, Louisiana.  She turns down an opportunity to run for the state college so she can stay with her dying mother.  Oya is devastated by the loss, but is comforted by the love of Shango.  She's devastated again when that relationship ends, and her sweet friend Ogun helps pick up the pieces.  Having missed her chance at her dream of running, she clings to a new dream - starting a family with Ogun.  But that never happens either, and Oya goes to drastic lengths to give something of herself to someone.  She is completely depleted.  And then she gets up and starts running.  As director Marion McClinton said in the talkback, sometimes it's the running of the race that matters, not the outcome.  There's glory in the running.  (I'll be thinking about that as I run my fourth half marathon in four weeks on Sunday in Minneapolis, in a race I like to call the Run to the Guthrie. :)

This is a top-notch production and the cast is amazing; I will definitely be checking out other productions at Pillsbury.  Christiana Clark plays Oya.  Not only does she look like an athlete, but she also beautifully embodies Oya's spirit - her confusion, desperation, and determination.  Gavin Lawrence plays the delightfully devilish Elegba, who grows from a boy to a young man.  Elegba is one of those characters who seems simple, but is actually quite wise and profound (the title of the play comes from a dream he has about Oya's future).  Gavin is very convincing in that transition, and has a lovely voice when he sings for Oya.  From Sonja Parks as Oya's mother, to Ansa Akyea and James A. Williams as her suitors, to the great Greta Oglesby as her aunt, to every last member of the ensemble, the cast is just beautiful.

I can't say it better than this, from the Guthrie's publicity postcard about the show: "Lusciously theatrical and boldly original, this play weaves together elements of urban contemporary realism with West African mysticism for a lyrical experience that is at once joyous and challenging, raucous and raw, and brazenly beautiful."