"The Glass Menagerie" at the Guthrie Theater

Long before I became a Twin Cities Theater Blogger, I became a Guthrie season subscriber. The decision to accept that telephone offer to see five shows for $100 changed my life. As a Guthrie subscriber, I began to see more than just the touring musicals and an occasional local show. I started to know and follow the local community of theater artists, I was introduced to other local theaters. The more local theater I saw, the more I found to see, and it continued to snowball until I just had to start writing about it. I'm now entering my 17th season as a Guthrie subscriber, and my 10th season as a #TCTheater blogger. How fitting to begin this milestone year with one of my favorite playwrights and one of my favorite plays. I first saw The Glass Menagerie at the Guthrie in 2007 (not counting when my high school did it), first wrote about it in 2010 at the Jungle, shortly after I started blogging, and have seen and written about it multiple times since. The Guthrie's new production, directed by Artistic Director Joseph Haj, is just as lovely, sad, and wistful as any I've seen.

"Suddenly Last Summer" at Theatre in the Round

It may be the beginning of the cold, dark, drab winter season here in Minnesota, but on stage at Theatre in the Round, it's still beautiful and lush late summer, with colorful flowers and chirping birds. But it's still pretty dark, this being Tennessee Williams' Suddenly Last Summer, a one-act play written in 1958. Like all of Williams' plays, it's beautifully tragic, or tragically beautiful. Flawed people, dysfunctional families, and a sense of despair. Oh, how I love it! Tennessee Williams is one of my favorite playwrights, but this was my first experience with this play. It was my second experience with Tennessee Williams at TRP (see also Summer and Smoke), and once again they have put on an excellent production of a sad, beautiful, disturbing Tennessee Williams play.

"The Glass Menagerie" by Theatre Coup d'Etat at SPACE

Tennessee Williams is one of my favorite playwrights, and all I ask of a production of one of his plays is that it leave me with that feeling of delicious melancholy. Theatre Coup d'Etat's production of The Glass Menagerie, my favorite Williams play, did just that. As I drove home last night and saw the big moon hanging heavy in the sky, I sighed and made a wish for something that would never come true. Just like the characters in Menagerie, Williams most personal play. Theatre Coup d'Etat's interesting staging with appropriate mood lighting and music really makes it feel like you're looking in on Tom's (aka Williams') memories of his family. Which is always a beautifully tragic rumination on the past, how memory works, and how the choices we've made continue to affect us.

"Cat on a Hot Tin Roof" at Pioneer Place Theatre Company in St. Cloud

"Mendacity is the system we live in. Liquor is one way out, death is the other." Oh Tennessee Williams, no one does tragedy quite so beautifully as you! Even though his plays are filled with despair, anguish, and pain, they make me so happy. Especially when the poetic language and tragic relationships are brought to life as beautifully as they are in Pioneer Place Theatre Company's production of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. Set in the back of a 100 year old building in downtown St. Cloud, "Central Minnesota's Premiere Professional Theatre" often attracts talent from the Twin Cities, as it has for this show. Directed by one of our best directors, Craig Johnson, this Cat features a cast full of Twin Cities favorites. So I happily made the one hour drive through a wintery precipitation mix to St. Cloud (where much of my extended family lives and where I went to college) to take in some quality theater at a new-to-me location (and eat the best pizza in the world at House of Pizza just across the street). If you're a theater-lover in the St. Cloud area, make plans to see this show before it closes this weekend. And if you're in the Twin Cities, I know there's more theater offered than one person could possibly see (believe me, I've tried), but if you're interested in some beautiful Tennessee Williams tragedy, this one is worth the drive.

"One Arm" by New Epic Theater at the Lab Theater

Thanks to playwright Moisés Kaufman (see also The Laramie Project), an unproduced screenplay written by one of my favorite playwrights, Tennessee Williams, was saved from oblivion and can now be seen on the stage. Williams published One Arm as a short story in 1942 and attempted a screenplay in 1967 that never went anywhere. Kaufman recently adapted it into a one-act play, and thanks to the new theater company New Epic Theater, Twin Cities theater-goers can now see this beautifully tragic piece of Tennessee Williams writing in a gorgeous production at the Lab Theater. A remount of one of my favorite Fringe shows last year, One Arm tells the story of a boxer who lost his arm, his identity, and his self-respect in an accident, and spent the rest of his short life trying to get it back. There are three levels of greatness going on in this show: Tennessee Williams' poignant and moving story, Moisés Kaufman's clever adaptation, and New Epic's inventive and thoughtful interpretation. All of it comes together for a completely engaging and engrossing 90 minutes of theater.

The man with the titular one arm is Ollie Olsen, a boxer who loses his arm in an accident that kills two of his friends. No longer able to box, he stumbles into hustling (a quaint and old-fashioned word for prostitution) as a way to survive. He finds that he's good at it, and travels around the country making an impression on many men, and a few women. But he's become dead inside, unable to feel anything for anyone, until he ends up in prison and is faced with the end of his life and the memories of past encounters. The story is told within the framework of a screenplay; a narrator begins the story carrying a script in his hands, and he and other characters read stage directions such as "exterior night," or "camera pans." It's almost as if you're watching a movie, or a movie acted out on stage, which adds another level of interest and originality to the storytelling.

Torsten Johnson and James Kunz (photo by Heidi Bohnenkamp)

The tight six-person ensemble (only two of whom return from last year's production), fluidly and seamlessly tell the story that jumps around in time and place. Taking over the role of Ollie is Torsten Johnson in an incredibly physical performance, saying as much with the way he writhes on the floor or climbs over the furniture as he does with his sparse words. It's an apt interpretation of a character who's defined by his physicality - his prowess in the boxing ring, his "mutilation," his job as a hustler.

Most of the story is told through a series of perfect two-person scenes with Ollie and the people he meets, all of whom are portrayed by the five other cast members. H. Adam Harris is the narrator, bringing to life Williams' (and/or Kaufman's) elegantly descriptive words, and also plays a man who is perhaps Ollie's only true friend. The other four actors sit in chairs behind the stage with their various props and wardrobe pieces around them, watching the scene until they're called to join in the action. The two returning cast members are the radiant Aeysha Kinnunen playing all of the Tennessee Williamsesque women, and Adam Qualls in several diverse performances including the callous prison guard and a nervous divinity student who wants to help but isn't quite sure why or how. Craig Johnson makes an impression (as always) as a wealthy and lonely john, a sleazy porn producer, and the crazy landlady. Rounding out the cast is James Kunz, who also choreographed the movement. There is no "choreography" as you typically think of it, but the way the actors move around the space is really quite beautiful and expressive.

Craig Johnson and Torsten Johnson (photo by Heidi Bohnenkamp)

Director and scenographer Joseph Stodola makes great use of the space at the Lab Theater, an even more appropriate setting that the Southern Theater was last year at the Fringe. The raised square stage has seating on three sides, giving the feeling of watching a boxing match, especially when two characters are in the box sparring verbally or physically. Some of the action also takes place outside of this box, near the chairs at the back of the stage, with the narrator wandering in and out through the audience. The stage is empty except for a metal frame bed, one chair, and a cart with an old projector on it, hinting at the screenplay nature of the original work. It all speaks to a thoughtful attention to detail that elevates the work.

It's worth noting that when I attended the show last Saturday night, I was one of the oldest people in the audience. This is a rare occurrence; at 41 I'm often one of the youngest people in the audience (nothing makes me feel younger than a Sunday matinee at BCT!). Perhaps it was the 9 pm start time - we older people have a hard time leaving the house after 8, and if I wasn't already out at a birthday party I probably wouldn't have made it either. Whatever the reason, kudos to New Epic Theater for drawing in a younger audience. But they deserve to be drawing in a larger audience than the one I was part of. I know they're a new company in a community rife with theater companies young and old, but trust me when I say that this one is worth your time. The director, cast, and creative team have created a gorgeous piece of theater based on the work of two fine playwrights. I hope that they're not a one-hit wonder and will continue to produce thoughtful, relevant, inventive, gorgeous work like One Arm. Performances continue tonight through this weekend only, so you have six more chances to see it (a few 9 pm performances but also some 7:30 shows for those with an earlier bedtime).

"The Glass Menagerie" at Lyric Arts

Tennessee Williams is one of America's greatest playwrights, and his most auto-biographical play, The Glass Menagerie, is an American classic and one of my favorite plays. All of William's plays are beautifully tragic, and this story of a fading Southern belle and her two misfit children is no exception. Lyric Arts in Anoka is opening their 2014-2015 season with this classic, and it's a fine production, although it didn't quite touch me as deeply as others have in the past. They played up the comedy a little too much for my taste; while there are some great one-liners, I like my Tennessee Williams dark and gloomy. Still, the cast does a fine job, and there are some wonderful musical effects and an interesting use of video projections. And The Glass Menagerie is always a play worth seeing, with it's stark and tragic beauty.

The Glass Menagerie is a "memory play," in which Tom (a stand-in for Williams himself) is a character in the play and also narrates from some time in the future. The play is therefore cast in nostalgia, wistfulness, and regret. The aforementioned fading Southern belle is Amanda Wingfield, one of Williams' best characters. She lives with her two adult children in a small apartment in St. Louis in the late 1930s. Tom dutifully supports the family by working at a shoe factory, where he feels stifled and bored with life. Laura has a slight physical impairment that has caused her to become reclusive, wanting nothing more than to stay in the apartment, listen to records on the Victrola, and arrange her glass figurines, her menagerie. Amanda is constantly nagging her children - telling Tom how to chew his food and how to sit at the table, cajoling Laura into leaving the house to attend business school or entertain a "gentleman caller." Because she's unhappy with the way her life turned out (her charming grinning husband left her with two children to raise), she talks constantly of her glorious past and happy youth. She wants Laura to be as popular as she was, but Laura is nothing like her, and the time and place in which they live is nothing like the one in which she came of age. When a gentleman caller finally arrives, "the long-delayed but always expected something that we live for," there is hope for a moment. But the experiment fails miserably, Tom leaves the family to find his fortune in the world, and Laura is left with her glass menagerie. Part of the tragedy is that Amanda really does want her children to be happy and successful, as she wishes on the moon, but she has no idea how to help them achieve that in this modern, Northern, and utterly foreign world.

Tom (Ty Hudson) and Laura (Samantha Haeli)

The Wingfield home is sparsely furnished, with just a hint of the outer walls and terrace where the family goes to smoke and gaze at the moon. Melancholy music plays at just the right moments, as Tom's narration makes you feel like you're peeking into a faded photo album of days long past. The video projections play on four broken pieces hanging above the stage, like the Wingfiends' broken lives. I'm not sure it's entirely necessary to see a candle flame or blue roses when such things are mentioned, but the effect is relatively subtle. The most successful is the photo of the long gone Mr. Wingfield, whose handsome grinning face hangs eerily over the family. As Amanda, Patti J. Hynes-McCarthy is fluttery and flustered and never stops moving, which is just how Amanda should be. Ty Hudson's Tom is boisterous and angry, outwardly expressing his frustrations with the situation. Samantha Haeli has the physical limp, hesitant voice, and lack of selficonfidence that is Laura, and also shows her beginning to open up in her own awkward way. Finally, as that all important gentleman caller, Randy Niles portrays All-American charm and confidence (not unlike his character in Picnic), a stark contrast to the rest of the family.

The Glass Menagerie continues through September 21, with discount tickets available on Goldstar.

Fringe Festival: "One Arm"

Day: 1

Show: 1

Title: One Arm

Category: Drama

By: Perestroika Theater Project

Written by: Tennessee Williams

Location: Southern Theater

Summary: An adaptation of a Tennessee Williams unproduced screenplay, in which a young boxer loses his arm and his identity, and turns to prostitution to survive.

Highlights: Like most Tennessee Williams plays, this one is a heart-breaker, full of tragic characters leading lives of despair. Ollie's (a compelling Bryan Porter) life is full of promise as a champion boxer until he loses an arm in an accident that kills two of his friends. Suffering from survivor's guilt and loss of identity, he falls into a life of hustling, traveling around the country to get by, not feeling anything. Until he ends up on death row, when the feelings come flooding back. The excellent supporting cast plays many well-defined characters in a series of perfect two-person scenes, including two of the tragic women that Williams writes so well (Aeysha Kinnunen), a well-to-do John (David Coral), and a seminary student visiting Ollie in prison (Adam Qualls). This is a fairly elaborate set for a Fringe show; it's clever and effective with a square made of pipes defining the small rooms, that can be lifted up and moved around to create a boxing ring or terrace or ship. One Arm is beautifully written, directed (by Joseph Stodola), and acted, and feels like a full and complete story despite it's under 60-minute run time. This moving portrait of a beautifully tragic character and the equally tragic people he meets is completely absorbing, an extremely professional and well done Fringe show, and a must-see for anyone who likes good quality drama in their Fringe.

"A Lovely Sunday for Creve Coeur" by Gremlin Theatre in an Apartment Next to Open Eye Figure Theatre

I love site-specific theater, when a play is produced not in a traditional theater space, but rather in a location where it might actually take place. A dark office comedy in an office, a relationship drama in what looks like a Brooklyn apartment, or an early 20th century story of the wealthy and the help in the basement kitchen of the James J. Hill House. These very real locations make it easier to suspend disbelief, so that you feel like you're actually witnessing real happenings in a real environment. But as Gremlin Theatre found out last week, this sort of site-specific theater is not as easy as it looks. They were set to produce Tennessee Williams' A Lovely Sunday for Creve Coeur in a house in St. Paul, when they were informed of occupancy and legal issues just a day before performances were supposed to start. They were forced to suspend the production indefinitely, but were luckily able to quickly secure another location, an apartment owned by Open Eye Figure Theatre, proving the old adage of theater - "the show must go on!" And it just so happens that this is the perfect location for this funny, touching, and wistful little play set in a St. Louis apartment. Kudos to director Jef Hall-Flavin, technical director and scenic designer Carl Schoenborn (who can currently be seen onstage in Savage Umbrella's Rapture), the excellent four-person cast, and the entire Gremlin team for making a seamless transition in such a short time. The play looks as if it was always meant to play in that space. I have really come to appreciate Gremlin Theatre over the last few years, everything they do is so well-done and they make interesting and unexpected choices, so I'm happy to see them continue on after losing their permanent home last year. A Lovely Sunday for Creve Coeur is a wonderful production and a welcome return.

Tennessee Williams (one of my favorite playwrights), is most well-known for the American Southern tragedies he wrote in the '40s and '50s - Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, A Streetcar Named Desire, and my personal favorite, The Glass Menagerie. Creve Coeur, written in 1979, is one of his later works but definitely bears a resemblance to those earlier plays. Set in St. Louis in the 1930s and focusing on one day in the lives of four women, it features the obligatory desperately and tragically in love Southern woman. Dotty has recently moved from Memphis to teach Civics in the local school, and is rooming with Bodey, a German woman intent on setting Dotty up with her twin brother (the title refers to the location of a picnic she's planning). But Dotty is in love with the school principal, and spends the day waiting for his phone call. Her friend and fellow teacher Helena drops by to collect money for the apartment they're planning to share in the nicer part of town. Helena looks down on Bodey and her shabby and colorful apartment. Bodey is fiercely protective of Dotty (and her plot to marry her to her brother), and tries to prevent Helena from telling her some devastating news. Complicating the situation is a visit from the upstairs neighbor Sophie, grieving the recent death of her mother and afraid to be alone in her apartment. There's no happy ending for any of these women (this is Tennessee Williams, after all), but as Dotty says, "We must pull ourselves together and go on. Go on, we must just go on, that's all that life seems to offer - and demand."

Suzanne Warmanen and Sara Richardson

The show is well cast. Suzanne Warmanen is always hilarious (see also: Pride and Prejudice and her many appearances in A Christmas Carol), but also gives Bodey a depth of feeling and heart beneath the busybody exterior. Sara Richardson, who can do broad comedy as well as intense drama, walks the line between the two and is pitch perfect as the classic Tennessee Williams Southern woman ala Blanche and Maggie the Cat. Sara takes Dotty from a happy and carefree young woman doing her daily exercises to a woman who's dreams have been crushed. As Helena, Jane Froiland is appropriately haughty, while also giving us a hint of what's underneath the polished exterior (see Jane in the hilarious locally filmed web series Theater People). Last but not least, Noë Tallen is equal parts humor (rushing to the bathroom because of what coffee does to her digestion) and pathos (wailing that she's "alein in der Welt" - "alone in the world") in her portrayal of poor Sophie.

All of this takes place in a very realistic apartment, because it is a real apartment. Walking through the door next to Open Eye, you are presented with a long narrow room with high ceilings. First are few rows of chairs and stools for the audience, followed by the living room area opening up to the kitchen behind. Stairs on the right go up to the upstairs apartment. Colorful wall hangings and props adorn the space, and it's hard to tell which came with the space and which were brought in for the production, so organic does it feel. The four women move around the space, from the open door letting in cold air behind the audience, to the living room, kitchen, stairs, and even bathroom (which the audience members can use before the show and during intermission). Bodey really fries chicken (you can hear and smell it) and makes deviled eggs in the kitchen. The period costumes (by Clare Brauch) also feel authentic, from the frumpy housedresses of the German women, to Helena's beautiful period dress and hat, as pretty and proper as she is, and Dotty's simple but pretty new dress. It all feels very real.

I once wrote "Tennessee Williams did not write comedies," although maybe he did, as this play is much lighter than his usual southern tragedy. But there are still elements of that tragedy, in a woman grieving her beloved mother, another desperately in love with a man who is not who she thinks he is, another hanging all of her hopes for happiness on someone else's possible relationship, and one who seems cold and selfish but is really just longing to not be alone.

With just 40 seats and a reduced performance schedule, tickets may be hard to come by (the performance I attended was sold out), but it's worth the effort. There are a few discount tickets left on Goldstar, otherwise call or get your tickets online at the Gremlin website. Don't miss this chance to see a lesser known work by one of America's greatest playwrights, brought to very real life by a great cast in an authentic location.

"Camino Real" by Girl Friday Productions at the Minneapolis Theatre Garage

I love the plays of Tennessee Williams - from the well known A Streetcar Named Desire and Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, to the lesser known Summer and Smoke, to one of my favorite plays - The Glass Menagerie. He has a gift for creating these very real worlds full of complex characters (women especially), stories of such tragedy and beauty and emotion, set in a specific time and place in history. At first glance Camino Real, in a rare local staging by Girl Friday Productions, bears no resemblance to the Tennessee Williams plays I know - surreal instead of naturalistic, with a huge cast of characters, some drawn from literature, no linear storyline, set outside of time and place. It's a strange trip through the 16 blocks of the Camino Real (purposely mispronounced as CAMino REal). At the end of it I was a little perplexed, but also moved in a way I couldn't quite explain. Camino Real is about death, love, fear, loneliness, hope, just like all of Williams' plays, only in a more abstract sort of way. Stick with it through all the craziness, and you might just find those moments of beauty, truth, poignancy, and tragedy that Tennessee Williams does so well.

At the beginning of of the play we meet the familiar Don Quixote and his sidekick Sancho Panza. They somehow end up on the Camino and see some scary things, but Quixote decides to stay, sleep, and dream. So begins this strange and surreal trip, with Quixote often watching from the edge of the stage and occasionally wandering through the action. The play is broken up into 16 blocks, or scenes, which are announced by the narrator and man in charge of the Camino, Gutman (the only one who looks and sounds like he belongs in a Tennessee Williams play). The closest thing we have to a main character is Kilroy, representing the typical American from the 50s in a grease-stained white t-shirt, blue jeans, and a boxing champ belt. Kilroy has just left his wife, the woman he loves, to spare her grief when his sick heart (as big as the head of a baby) eventually gives out. He finds himself on the Camino and has to figure out how to survive in this strange world, with hopes of getting out. Other characters include Casanova and the woman he loves, the courtesan Marguerite Gautier, whose only desire is to get out; the poet/rock star Lord Byron; a gypsy and her daughter; a pair of "street cleaners" who function as Death; and various other odd creatures that populate the street. Eventually the dreamer (Quixote) wakes up and leaves, with these final words:

Don't pity yourself! The wounds of the vanity, the many offenses our egos have to endure, being housed in bodies that age and hearts that grow tired, are better accepted with a tolerant smile - like this! - You see? Otherwise what you become is a bag full of curdled cream - leche mala, we call it! - attractive to nobody, least of all to yourself!

the cast of Camino Real
(don't worry, no crazy make-up
or purple capes in the show

There's not a weak link in the 14-person cast, ably directed by Benjamin McGovern (who also designed the sparse and surreal set). Eric Knutson is a great Kilroy, the likeable and relatively normal presence that leads us through the crazy trip. Alan Sorenson is smooth as the all-knowing Gutman, and Craig Johnson is compelling as the dreamer explorer Quixote, as well as in an amusing turn as an old man. Kimberly Richardson is always entertaining as she physically transforms into one odd character or another. The hauntingly beautiful voice of Laurel Amstrong adds to the ambiance of the Camino. John Middleton and Kirby Bennett (Girl Friday's Artistic Director) play out the most emotional scenes, between Cassanova and Marguerite, who bears the closest resemblance to the familiar Williams heroine - desperately trying to get out of the situation she's found herself in.

I haven't read any yet, but I've heard that this play has received mixed reviews, with some critics loving it, and some not so much. If anything that made me more excited to see it and decide for myself. It's definitely odd, and I wouldn't say it's my favorite Tennessee Williams play, but I appreciate the opportunity to see more of his work, especially this piece that's so seemingly different, yet has moments of familiarity. I found a lot to like. But it's weird for sure, and I can see how it's not everyone's cup of tea. For a theater company that only does one production every two years, this was a big risk for Girl Friday to take, and I have to admire that. This is a much different Street Scene than the one they presented two years ago. In my opinion, the risk paid off, and I can't wait to see what 2015 brings! If you're also intrigued by the response and want to see what the fuss is about, the play continues through July 27 at the Minneapolis Theatre Garage, with discount tickets available on Goldstar.

"A Streetcar Named Desire" by Ten Thousand Things at Minnesota Opera Center

Ten Thousand Things does theater like no other company I've seen, and Tennessee Williams wrote some of the best American plays of the 20th Century - full of drama and tragedy and beautifully written characters. Combine these two powerhouses and you have a pretty remarkable experience at the theater. A Streetcar Named Desire is one of Williams' best-known plays and deals with complex issues of family relationships, spousal abuse, rape, poverty, and mental illness. My first introduction to the work was a beautiful production at the Guthrie three years ago, a memory I try to hold on to in an attempt to displace the memory of last year's unfortunate Broadway production, which had audiences laughing at inappropriate moments. It was like Streetcar, the Comedy, and it was not good. The concept was a good one - an ethnically diverse cast - but the tone of the production was much too light. I thought perhaps it was also due to the unsophisticated audience that the TV actors on stage brought in, but I've learned from Ten Thousand Things that it doesn't matter if an audience member has never seen a play before in their life, or has seen hundreds. If you do it right - they'll get it. In addition to performing for the typical theater-goer like myself, TTT takes their shows into prisons, homeless shelter, schools, and community centers in an effort to bring theater to a wider audience. And they have a really wonderful and unique way of stripping the work down to the essentials and presenting it in a way that anyone can relate to, regardless of prior theater experience. They've done that with Streetcar, and the result is a brutally real and emotionally affecting two hours that's at times difficult to endure. Seeing Williams' tragic story so up close and personal is almost too much to bear. In other words - they did it right.

Austene Van as Blanche

This production of Streetcar focuses on the four main characters and removes several minor characters that don't factor into the main plot. The play begins with Blanche visiting her sister Stella and her husband Stanley in New Orleans. Blanche and Stella grew up in a wealthy Southern family, but hard times have caused Blanche to lose the home place, while Stella and Stanley live in two small modest rooms. Blanche is high-strung, to put it mildly. She takes long baths and drinks to calm her nerves, and can't possibly speak about the troubles in her past. She's a woman who's all about appearances; if things look pretty and put together, then everything must be all right. Reality is much too harsh for the world that Blanche lives in. Her young husband died tragically years ago, which, along with her family's financial hardship and the deaths of her parents, sent her on a downward spiral. No where else to go, she lands with her sister, with a trunk full of pretty clothes, fur, and jewelry, mementos of her past. Blanche finds companionship with Stanley's buddy Mitch; they're two lonely people who need someone. It's the beginning of what seems like could be a quiet, simple love, as opposed to Stella and Stanley's passionate but abusive love. Stanley is suspicious of Blanche and thinks that she's holding something back. He learns some gossip about her and uses it against her. In the end, Stella must choose between her husband and her sister. It's a tragic story with no happy endings.

Stella (Elizabeth Grullon) and
Stanley (Kris Nelson)

This fantastic four-person cast is directed by the equally fantastic Randy Reyes. All of these characters are interesting and complex, but none more so than Blanche, and Austene Van plays every layer. Blanche becomes more and more unhinged as the play goes on, and by the end, her eyes are just vacant; she's gone. Elizabeth Grullon is also great as Stella, always hot and frazzled and wanting to believe in her husband and sister both, until she has to make the terrible choice. Kris Nelson may not look like the Stanley Kowalski type, but he's got that sinister attitude in every word and look. He's one of my favorite local actors and usually has this great positive energy, but in this case he's turned that energy much darker in an almost scarily realistic way. Rounding out the cast is Kurt Kwan as the sweet and charming Mitch. All four of these actors have great chemistry with each other and play well together.

This is a fairly elaborate set by Ten Thousand Things standards. In case you've never seen a TTT show before, they create a "stage" by placing a few rows of chairs in a square. The space in the middle is where the story takes place, but it also spills outside the square as the fully lit room allows you to follow the actors as they leave the space. Dean Holzman has effectively transformed this empty square into the two rooms, with an imaginary curtain separating the tiny bed in one corner from the kitchen table in the other. Peter Vitale adds a soundtrack to the play, adding in jazz music playing on the radio or creepy carnival music when Blanche remembers her difficult past.

The last several shows that TTT has done have been on the more light-hearted side, which allowed the cast to play with the audience a little. But not so with Streetcar. The actors keep the intensity of the story and reside in the world they create, as if the audience isn't even there. Not since Doubt two years ago (also starring Kris Nelson) have they tackled such a serious drama. As always, I highly recommend that you go see it. I went with a friend who had never seen TTT before, and we're already talking about getting season passes next season (which includes A Midsummer Night's Dream, The Music Man, and a new play by Kira Obolensky). Warning: the kind of real, raw, intimate theater that Ten Thousand Things does can be addictive.

"Summer and Smoke" at Theatre in the Round

Tennessee Williams is one of my favorite playwrights. He has created several memorable women (or perhaps versions of the same woman), among them Amanda Wingfield, Blanche DuBois, and Maggie the Cat. I have recently become acquainted with Alma Winemiller in Theatre in the Round's sublime production of Summer and Smoke, and I am utterly charmed by her complexities and heart-broken by her plight. Like all of Tennessee Williams' women, Alma is a genteel Southern woman with clear ideas of the way life should be, whose story turns tragic when reality doesn't live up to her expectations. 

I love a good unrequited love story, and this is one of the best I've seen. The kind that makes you think maybe things can work out for these two crazy kids, and then dashes your hopes to the ground as reality sets back in and it all falls apart. The prim and proper minister's daughter Alma is in love with the boy next door, the playboy doctor's son John, who grew up to be a doctor himself. Alma is not the type of woman John usually keeps company with, but he's drawn to her. Alas, theirs is a love that can never be. She wants him physically, but she can't admit that even to herself because it doesn't fit into the world she's created for herself. He wants her soul, but he doesn't even know what that means because in his clinical, earthly world the soul doesn't even exist. This creates an attraction and tension between them that can never be relieved, and it's unbearably tragic to watch it all unfold. There are some light and funny moments in the play as well, especially in the first act. But Tennessee Williams did not write comedies (one misguided Broadway production of Streetcar notwithstanding), so we know there's no chance for a happy ending for our couple.

John and Alma
(Casey Hoekstra and Joanna Harmon)

The show is all about Alma and John. Yes there are other people onstage and several of them have nice moments (including Karen Bix as Alma's childlike mother, Ty Hudson as Alma's sweet but boring suitor, and Tara Lucchino who almost succeeds in making me like Alma's rival for John's affection), but the success of the play hinges on the performances of Joanna Harmon and Casey Hoekstra as Alma and John. And boy do they deliver. Joanna, a member of the inventive physical theater company Live Action Set, plays Alma with a nervous fluttery energy that never subsides. She puts her training to good use in this very physical performance; you can see the tension in Alma's body as she interacts with various characters. Casey, a graduate of the U of M/Guthrie program making his Twin Cities stage debut (to which I say welcome and please come back soon!), plays John with a relaxed intensity, all slow knowing smiles as he lounges and watches Alma. Whenever either was off stage I waited for their return, and the best scenes are the ones with the two of them together. Their relationship is so intense and complex, perplexing and familiar. One particularly intense love scene took place literally a few feet in front of me on the intimate Theatre in the Round stage, which made me wish I had one of those fans from the Winemiller's sitting room!

The busy and multi-talented Randy Reyes directed the play and did a beautiful job with the intricate dialogue and intense scenes. With a set design by Rob Jensen, the small stage is packed with set pieces that manage to create three distinct settings, two of which interact with each other as John and Alma stare out their windows across the yard at each other. The details are impeccable as the audience gets a close-up view due to the unique in-the-round stage (the usher led me right through the Winemiller's living room to my seat on the opposite side, and I was close enough to peek over an actor's shoulder at an authentic-looking photo album). The costumes (by Carolann Winther) are evocative of the time, place, and character, from John's white suit to Alma's conservative clothes to Rosa's vibrant red dress.

I've been to Theatre in the Round several times in the past few years for Fringe shows, but it's been a while since I've seen a Theatre in the Round production. Currently celebrating their 61st season, they are the longest running theater in Twin Cities. Even the Guthrie has only been around a mere 50 years! They were recently featured on one of my favorite shows MN Original (a weekly series on tpt that showcases local artists of all types of media). You can watch that feature online to learn about the interesting challenges presented by the in-the-round design. I will definitely be back to Theatre in the Round before next year's Fringe; they have several interesting shows coming up this season, including the Pulitzer Prize winning play Rabbit Hole in January. Unfortunately Summer and Smoke has already closed, so if you missed it, I apologize, because you missed a good one.

"Autumn Song" by George Maurer at St. Joan of Arc Church

As I've said before, I'm not really into poetry. I have a hard time getting anything out it when I try to read it. But when it's set to music, it's a whole different story. Accomplished local composer and pianist George Maurer has set several poems of German poet Rainer Maria Rilke to music, interspersed with a few poems by Tennessee Williams. This initially seemed like an odd couple to me, until I learned that Williams was a poet in addition to being a playwright (one of my favorites), and he was inspired in his writing by the writing of Rilke. George and director Jef Hall-Flavin have imagined a dream-like conversation between the two, consisting entirely of music and poetry. A cross between a concert and a theater piece, Autumn Song doesn't have much in the way of plot or story, but instead it brings the poetry of Rilke to life. It's a beautiful creation.

The evening begins with Jared Oxborough as Tennessee Williams entering like a character from one of his plays, like Brick or Stanley (and it was hot enough in the gym of St. Joan of Arc church to believe we were in Williams' Southern home). He begins reading a book of Rilke poetry, when the poet himself (played by Dieter Bierbrauer) appears as if in a dream. The two men interact and sing alternately or together, mostly Rilke poems and a few Williams poems as well. A few visions wander through, representing the objects of the two men's affection – Rilke's played by Dieter's real-life wife Anna, and Williams' played by Caleb Carlson, a promising young actor I've seen recently in Julius Caesar and Our Class. Despite the lack of dialogue or exposition, it's obvious that Williams takes inspiration from Rilke, so that by the time that Rilke leaves at the end of the piece, Williams is able to write again.

Tennessee Williams (Jared Oxborough) and
Rainer Maria Rilke (Dieter Bierbrauer) converse

There is much talent and collaboration present in Autumn Song. This is George's passion project, his Sistine Chapel (read a nice interview with George about the project here). He has done a beautiful job of setting these poems to music of varying styles in a way that makes them most clear and alive. George (on piano) and his band (cello, bass, drums, sax) sound fantastic, and he could not have chosen two better singers than Jared and Dieter, who both appeared on their day of from their current regular gig (Jared is in the lush old-fashioned musical Roman Holiday at the Guthrie, while Dieter is starring in the super-fun spoof Xanadu at the Chan – my two must-see musicals of the summer!). Individually, each of their voices are gorgeous, and matched by their acting skills. Blend these two voices together and you have some incredible harmonies (there's not much I like better in music than a good harmony). And their combined acting skill makes you feel the emotions of the characters, which is more important than the literal interpretation of what's happening. They don't just sing the songs, they portray the emotions behind the words and music. George's bass player Jeff Engholm takes the lead for the final song, "Autumn Days," (in what I like to call a "Purple Summer" moment), as Dieter and Jared add their harmonies. It's the first Rilke poem George set to music, and it's a glorious celebration:

Lord, it's time. The summer has gone by.

Darken the sundials with your shadows,

On the meadows let the wind go free.

Command the fruit to swell on tree and vine;

Grant them a few more transparent days,

Urge them on to fulfillment, and press

The final sweetness to the heavy wine.

As I've also said before, I'm a geek for the German language (see Werther und Lotte and Ich bin meine eigene Frau), having studied German at St. Ben's/St. John's like George did, where he was introduced to Rilke in his German classes. While Rilke's poems are translated into English for this piece, there's still that inherent German-ness in it that makes me want to attempt to read a few poems in the original language. I'm only marginally familiar with Rilke, and with Williams only as a playwright not a poet. So I appreciate getting to know both of these artists and their work a little better.

George and company will next take Autumn Song to the Tennessee Williams Theater Festival in Massachusetts. They have a Kickstarter campaign to help to fund this effort (click here to view video and back the project). I wish them much luck in this endeavor and am grateful to have gotten a sneak peek.

I'll leave you with a few poems my Rainer Maria Rilke, as sung in Autumn Song (you can read the entire libretto here).

I Love the Dark Hours

I love the dark hours of my being

My mind deepens into them.

There I can find, as in old letters,

The days of my life, already lived,

And held like a legend and understood.

  

I Live my Life in Widening Circles

I live my life in widening circles

that reach out across both earth and sky

I may not ever complete the last one,

but I give myself to

circling 'round God, that primordial tower

I've been circling ten thousand years long;

yet still I don't know:

am I a falcon,

am I a storm, or an unfinished song?

To the Beloved

Extinguish my eyes,

I'll go on hearing you.

And without a mouth, I can swear your name.

And without feet, I can make my way back to you.

Break off my arms,

I will take hold of you

with my heart as with a hand.

Stop my heart

and my brain will start to beat.

And if you consume my brain with fire,

I’ll feel you burn in every drop of my blood.

Sonnet 29
What is the deepest loss that you have suffered?
If your drink is bitter, turn yourself to wine.
Be in this night of a thousand excesses,
The magic at the crossroads of your senses.
In this night of a thousand excesses
Be what their strange encounter means
And when the world no longer knows your name?
Say to the earth: I'm flowing
Speak to the rushing water, and say:
I am.

"The Glass Menagerie" at Yellow Tree Theatre

The Glass Menagerie is the final play in Yellow Tree Theatre's fourth season, and it's a great conclusion to an entertaining season. Written by one of the greatest American playwrights (and one of my favorites), Tennessee Williams, this play is a nice choice for Yellow Tree and fits their intimate style and space very well. The Wingfield family's dysfunctions feel very real and close as you sit just a few feet away from the action. The Glass Menagerie has long been one of my favorite plays. It's a self-described "memory play" in which one of the main characters, Tom, introduces and narrates the action, as well as taking part in it. He has several soliloquies, filled with such beautiful language: "Yes, I have tricks in my pockets, I have things up my sleeve. But I am the opposite of a stage magician. He gives you illusion that has the appearance of truth. I give you truth in the pleasant disguise of illusion." Such is theater - truth in the disguise of illusion. Of all Williams' plays, this is the one that contains the most truths about his life and his past. Perhaps that's why it's so bittersweet.

A mother and her two adult children live in a small apartment in St. Louis in the late 1930s. Tom dutifully supports the family by working at a shoe factory, where he feels stifled and bored with life. Laura has a slight physical impairment that has caused her to become reclusive, wanting nothing more than to stay in the apartment, listen to records on the Victrola, and arrange her glass figurines, her menagerie. Their mother, Amanda, is constantly nagging her children - telling Tom how to chew his food and how to sit at the table, cajoling Laura into leaving the house to attend business school or entertain a "gentleman caller." She's a stereotypical fading Southern belle, who talks constantly of her glorious past and happy youth; she performs a memory play of her own for her children. She wants Laura to be as popular as she was, but Laura is nothing like her, and the time and place they live in is nothing like the one in which she came of age. The situation turns tragic as the gentleman caller experiment fails miserably, Tom leaves the family to find his fortune in the world, and Laura is left with her glass menagerie.

Tom (Jason Peterson) and his mother (Katherine Ferrand);
the looks say it all

Noted Twin Cities director Jon Cranney brings out the best in this fantastic four-person cast. Katherine Ferrand plays Amanda Wingfield, one of the greatest roles in American theater, and she knocks it out of the park. She's always talking, always fluttering about, telling endless stories, with lots of energy hiding a deep sense of desperation (like many of Williams' women). Katherine's sharp performance alone is worth the trip to Osseo! Yellow Tree Artistic Director Jason Peterson plays Tom, another great role. He speaks in memory-tinged melancholy as he narrates the scenes, with quietly controlled anger and restlessness in the scenes with his family. I was curious to see Carolyn Trapskin as Laura because her previous roles at Yellow Tree have been so crazy and over-the-top; this is a much more internal character than I've seen her play before, and she does it very well. Laura always breaks my heart, perhaps because I find myself relating to her, and this production is no exception. Finally, Josef Buchel is everything you want the gentleman caller to be - bright and charming, friendly and talkative with everyone he meets, but hiding an insecurity and uncertainty with life. Part of the tragedy is that Jim and Laura really do get along well, and she's able to open up to him somewhat, making them (and us) believe that things could have gone differently if the situation were different. But there are no happy endings with Tennessee Williams, only deep explorations of family, relationships, and societal bonds.

Laura (Carolyn Trapskin)
and her gentleman caller (Josef Buchel)

The stage at Yellow Tree is tiny, but they always seem to transform it into what's needed. This time the set (by Jeffrey Petersen) is a somewhat shabby but homey little apartment, with sloping wood floors and a small dining room separated by a curtain from the main living area, sparsely decorated with photos and mementos. I don't usually comment on (or notice) the lighting, but the candlelight scenes with Jim and Laura were beautifully done (lighting by Paola Rodriguez); it felt as if we were watching an intimate moment play out in the soft glow of candles.

Yellow Tree Theatre has recently announced their new season and it looks like another great one. I'm most excited to see Circle Mirror Transformation, a great character piece I saw at the Guthrie studio a few years ago which should be a great fit for Yellow Tree - intimate, funny, poignant, and full of awkward pauses and weird acting class exercises. And of course, nothing piques my interest like the words "new original musical," especially when the authors are one of my favorite local musicians, Blake Thomas, along with great Yellow Tree actors Mary Fox and Andy Frye. So if you missed out on this production (only two more performances, sorry for the late review), you have some great choices next season to visit Yellow Tree Theatre in charming Osseo, where good stories live.

"A Streetcar Named Desire" at the Broadhurst Theatre on Broadway

Tennessee Williams’ classic play A Streetcar Named Desire with a non-traditional (i.e., non-white) cast sounds like a great idea. And it is, but unfortunately for the production opening April 22 on Broadway, the execution is a little lacking. I saw the show in previews, so they still have time to make changes. And really the basics are all there – the cast (despite being filled with TV actors) is really quite good, and you can’t ask for much better material than Tennessee Williams. It’s the tone of the piece that’s off. This is a great American tragedy, and the audience was laughing and hooting like it was a romantic comedy. Perhaps part of the problem is that the TV actors draw an unsophisticated audience, but the fact is, if it’s done well, any audience should get it regardless of their background (see: Ten Thousand Things). I think the problem is that they play up the humor (which is supposed to be a dark, ironic humor) so that the audience is fooled into thinking this is a comedy. I heard laughs as Stanley was desperately and infamously calling “Stellaaaaaaa!” This is a moment that should not play for laughs. I even heard a few chuckles as poor Blanche was struggling on the floor as she was being hauled off to the loony bin. Somehow the audience missed the fact that this is a tragic and desperate situation – spousal abuse, rape, mental illness, poverty. I really don’t know how this cannot be apparent in any Tennessee Williams play, but somehow, to this preview audience, it was not. Perhaps in rehearsals the director and cast didn’t realize how this would play to an audience, and now that they’ve heard audiences laughing as the actors pour their hearts out, they’ll make some changes to remedy the situation. Or maybe I just was part of a weird audience that night. I think I would have enjoyed the play a lot more if there were no audience. Every time they laughed it took me right out of that deliciously tortured and poignant world of Tennessee Williams.

Blair Underwood, famous for playing smooth, sophisticated, beautiful characters on TV, is surprisingly good as the rough and violent Stanley, who passionately loves his wife even though he beats and belittles her. But he’s still beautiful, which may be part of the problem; some people may come to the show just to see him, and want him to be the romantic hero, which Stanley most definitely is not. It's not his fault that he can't get away from being Blair Underwood.  Daphne Rubin-Vega (who so wonderfully created the role of Mimi in RENT), is also good as Stella, especially as she grows more desperate in the second act. But this play is really about Blanche, and Nicole Ari Parker (in what appears to her stage debut) does a good job with this tough but fragile Southern woman whose way of life is disappearing as she tries to hold on by her fingernails. (It dawned on me that Blanch is Maggie from Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, if Brick had killed himself.) The last of the four main characters is Mitch, who should be a sad, lonely man who’s willing to settle for Blanche, a damaged woman who doesn’t really love him (at least judging by the excellent Guthrie production a few years ago). Wood Harris is miscast in this role. As much as I love my favorite drug dealer Avon Barksdale from The Wire (OK maybe second favorite, after Stringer Bell), he just doesn’t seem right as the guy who never gets the girl. There’s no way Wood Harris’ Mitch would be an aging, lonely, single man living with his mother.

I truly hope that they’re able to fix the tone of the play before the opening. Because I do love the non-traditional casting, and the good news is that a few minutes into the play you forget that there’s anything different about this Streetcar cast, and the implausibility of an African American family having owned a southern plantation for 100 years in the 1950s. That doesn’t matter anymore once you get into the story. Unfortunately with this production, there are other obstacles that get in the way of this classic.

"Cat on a Hot Tin Roof" at the Guthrie

In keeping with the theme for Valentine's Day, I followed the delicious Dial M for Murder at the Jungle with the Guthrie's production of  Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, a tale of not just one, but two dysfunctional marriages.  Also delicious, but in a much different and darker way.  Like Dial M for Murder, I hadn't seen this play before, or the 1958 movie, so I had no expectations. Except that I love Tennessee Williams; his plays are always so intense and really dig deep into human relationships.  That definitely holds true of this play as well.

For the one or two of you who, like me, have never seen the movie, here's a brief plot summary.  Big Daddy is the wealthy owner of a plantation in the Mississippi delta.  His two sons and their wives return home to celebrate his birthday.  Big Daddy dying of cancer, and everyone knows it but him and his wife Big Mama.  Gooper is the elder son, but Brick is his father's favorite, maybe because they're more alike.  Gooper and his wife Mae want to take over the plantation, but Brick's wife Maggie is determined not to let that happen.  Brick himself doesn't seem to care much about anything, except drinking, since the death of his friend Skipper, which he calls the one true thing he ever had in his life.  He's completely shut out his wife, and she's desperately trying to get back in.

I'm trying to decide who the star of the show is, but I don't think there really is one. Each character has their moment, and every actor in this cast is up to the challenge (even Gooper and Mae's five adorable children, who continually run across the stage hootin' and hollerin').  Peter Christian Hansen (Brick) always brings a wonderful intensity to his roles, but this one is much more subdued.  Brick mostly listens in apathetic silence as others go off around him.  He's constantly drinking, and moves around the stage on crutches with an awkward grace, his glass always in his hand.  But when he's provoked, he explodes.  Until he drinks enough that nothing matters anymore (click). Emily Swallow is wonderful as Maggie the cat, about to jump out of her own skin, desperate to make her marriage work so she doesn't have to return to the life of poverty.  Melissa Hart (Fraulein Schneider in Frank Theatre's Cabaret) is amusing and sympathetic as the loveable busybody Big Mama, who just wants her children to be happy, especially her favorite Brick.  And David Anthony Brinkley is marvelous as Big Daddy. Such a different role than the last time I saw him, as Big Mama Turnblad in Hairspray at the Chan.  It's no mystery why he left that show to do this one - it's such a rich, meaty role, and he inhabits it fully.  Chris Carlson and Michelle O'Neill as Gooper and Mae, whose only concern seems to be their inheritance, complete the dysfunctional family.  None of these characters are very likeable, but they're all fully realized people.

Once again, the Guthrie beautifully brings to life the complicated, messed up world of Tennessee Williams - mortality, mendacity, families, relationships.  You can almost feel the sweltering heat through the southern drawls, the set with the towering blue doors and windows, the 50s costumes.  It's not a world I would like to live in, but it's awfully engrossing to observe.