Though the pay may be less, the dressing rooms cramped, and doing eight performances a week can get exhausting, live theatre offers something that working in film and television lacks: the ability to interact with an audience that changes at every performance.
- An audience can keep actors on their toes, while showing support during a tough moment and providing valuable feedback to an artist.
- An audience creates an instant community of people sharing an experience that is unique to time and place.
- An audience is willing to suspend disbelief in order to participate in a storytelling event.
- Last, but not least, a live audience shows its appreciation for a performer's craft.
Noted stage director Mary Zimmerman (who recently returned to Berkeley Repertory Theatre to stage a revival of Metamorphoses nearly 20 years after she directed her play there in November 1999) explains that:
"Classic texts address the eternal human condition, which is a permanent state of change, loss, and in some ways renewal. We’re just trying to find that object that’s buried under the ground, that already exists in a way through virtue of the people that we are. I think of the process as being archaeological because, in an archaeological dig they’re not really swinging axes, they’re brushing carefully. If we hurry, panic, and try to move too fast when we’re developing something, we’ll damage the object that’s under the ground. On the other hand, if we’re lazy, slow, and inattentive, we might arrive at opening night with dirt still on the object because it’s not yet fully uncovered.”
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Based on the Roman poet Ovid's myths (and taken from the translation by David R. Slavitt), Zimmerman's play was first staged in 1996 in a pool at Northwestern University in Chicago. In 1998, the play moved to Chicago's Lookingglass Theatre Company before being performed in the Zellerbach Playhouse at UC-Berkeley. Subsequent productions in Los Angeles, Seattle, and Off-Broadway led to a 2002 run of 400 performances at Circle in the Square (a production which won the Tony Award for Best Direction of a Play).Rodney Gardiner (Silenus) and Benjamin T. Ismail (Bacchus) in a scene from Metamorphoses (Photo by: Kevin Berne) |
Because Zimmerman's adaptation is tied to a theme involving water, a large pool is the central playing area for actors who walk around its perimeter, stand in the water, splash around and disappear under the water while bringing their characters to life. Although this presents several challenges for costuming, it helps audiences to suspend their disbelief because the sheer theatrical craft on display is so exquisite. As Zimmerman explains:
“In Metamorphoses, we do a lot of things incredibly simply, the way children would do them in the back yard. It’s visual poetry. There’s a moment when two lovers turn into birds, and we just do it. We pretend to be birds, but in a kind of slow, transform-y way. There are practically no special effects (it’s just pretend) and it is surprisingly effective. But it’s also about the audience. We have to hold hands across the footlights in order to create this image together. We give the suggestion of an image, a fragment of it (a bird, a boat, a tree), but it’s up to the audience’s collective archetypal pool of experience and memory to complete it.”
Sango Tajima and Felicity Jones Latta (Aphrodite) in a scene from Metamorphoses (Photo by: Kevin Berne) |
“The audience knows what a real bird looks like. They know what it’s like when birds soar above the waves and they know what it’s like when they come on shore. We all understand that. That shared imaginary completion of a fragment of reality creates a real intimacy with the audience, between all of us, because we’re understanding things without words, without explanation, in the way that lovers, close friends, and relatives do. We look at the suggestion, and understand it because we’re all drawing on a common body of knowledge of the world, of how the world looks. We’re completing the metaphor ourselves, internally, without it being described in words. I tend to gravitate toward those kinds of visual moments of inventiveness or ingenuity.”
Steven Epp as Morpheus in a scene from Metamorphoses (Photo by: Kevin Berne) |
Anyone who doubts the relevance of Ovid's myths need only watch how Zimmerman stages the story of King Midas and the Golden Touch. Considering the political environment in which we live, it's impossible not to see the parallels to the shortsightedness and overwhelming greed of Donald Trump.
Rodney Gardiner (Phaeton) in a scene from Metamorphoses (Photo by: Kevin Berne) |
The current production (a shared effort with the Guthrie Theater in Minneapolis) features several actors returning to the roles they performed at Berkeley Rep two decades ago. Working on the handsome unit set designed by Daniel Ostling (with costumes by Mara Blumenfeld, lighting by T.J. Gerckens, and sound design by Andre Pluess), the cast includes many faces familiar to Bay area audiences. Steven Epp delivers powerful performances as Erysichthon, Cinyras, Morpheus and Zeus, while Rodney Gardiner brings some welcome comic relief as Silenus and Phaeton. Benjamin T. Ismail shines as Hermes, Vertumnus, and Dionysus.
Benjamin T. Israel (Vertumnus) and Louise Lamson (Pomona) in a scene from Metamorphoses (Photo by: Kevin Berne) |
Others in the cast include Raymond Fox as King Midas, Felicity Jones Latta as Aphrodite, Louise Lamson (Alcyon, Pomona), Alex Moggridge (Ceyx, Philemon), and Lisa Tejero (Therapist, Baucis). Standout performances come from local actor Sango Tajima as Eurydice, Myrrha, Hunger, and the daughter of Midas.
Steven Epp (Cinyras) and Sango Tajima (Myrrha) in a scene from Metamorphoses (Photo by: Kevin Berne) |
Some myths (Orpheus and Eurydice, Eros and Psyche, Narcissus) will no doubt be more familiar than those involving Alcyone and Ceyx, Erysichthon and Ceres, Pomona and Vertumnus, or Myrrha and Cinyras.
Louise Lamson as Alcyone in a scene from Metamorphoses (Photo by: Kevin Berne) |
However, the sheer beauty of the production and the strength of Zimmerman's ensemble make this the kind of performance no theater lover should miss. Performances of Metamorphoses continue through March 10 at the Berkeley Repertory Theatre (click here for tickets).
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During the summers that I worked at a YMCA sailing camp in Rhode Island, one of the counselors loved to entertain people with his tongue-flicking imitation of a lizard. Recently, while surfing YouTube, I came across a clip of Scottish comedian Danny Bhoy describing his hilarious encounter with a gekko lizard in a motel room in Northwestern Australia.Watching Danny Bhoy's performance was a perfect prelude to attending the opening night of American Conservatory Theater's new production of Seascape, the 1975 play which won Edward Albee his second Pulitzer Prize for Drama. I've always wanted to see this play but was never in the right place at the right time. To say that this production (with costumes and scenery by David Zinn) was well worth the wait would be a severe understatement.
Ellen McLaughlin as Nancy in Seascape (Photo by: Kevin Berne) |
The plot's premise is deceptively simple. A newly-retired couple is relaxing on a beach trying to decide what to do with all the free time at their disposal. Nancy (Ellen McLaughlin) is trying to paint a seascape while filled with adventurous thoughts now that they have fewer material possessions and are healthy enough not to be confined to a nursing home. As she fantasizes about spending the rest of their lives living on the world's most beautiful beaches, her husband, Charlie (James Carpenter), tries to discourage her from packing up and setting off on a grand adventure the following morning.
James Carpenter as Charlie in Seascape (Photo by: Kevin Berne) |
Nancy's impetuous behavior is not news to her husband. After a long career, Charlie (who, in his youth, dreamt about living in the sea) just wants to relax and get some rest. He would also probably prefer to do without Nancy's constant needling. As he tries to unwind, an occasional jet plane passes overhead as it takes off from a nearby airport with a thundering roar that is quickly followed by a welcome stillness. Then something happens that will change their lives forever.
Two lizards (Sarah Nina Hayon and Seann Gallagher) look down on Charlie (James Carpenter) and Nancy (Ellen McLaughlin) in a scene from Seascape (Photo by: Kevin Berne) |
At first it just looks like two heads peeking over a nearby sand dune. But what Nancy thinks may have been the people she saw further down the beach turns out to be two human-sized lizards capable of speaking English. Though their vocabulary may be limited (they've never heard of emotions like love), they are very much a couple.
There are differences, however. Once the initial shock wears off, Nancy introduces the two lizards to the custom of shaking hands. While the lizards inquire about the humans' skin (clothing), Nancy and Charlie attempt to make small talk as they would with anyone else.
Things start to get a little weird when Nancy asks Sarah (Sarah Nina Hayon) about children and discovers that Sarah has no attachment to her offspring because, although she has laid more than 7,000 eggs, they all drifted off in the water and were never seen again. Sarah also confesses that her mate, Leslie (Seann Gallagher), is extremely proud of the size of his tail. When Leslie starts talking about how much he hates fish (because they're stupid and keep overcrowding his world), Charlie accuses him of being a bigot.
Ellen McLaughlin and James Carpenter in a scene from Seascape (Photo by: Kevin Berne) |
After awkward attempts to explain some things about life on land (airplanes, cows, cooking, liver paste) the subject turns to evolution as the two lizards explain why they decided to venture out of the ocean and come up onto dry land. Although Leslie is inclined to go back in the water, Nancy and Charlie try to convince the lizards to stay, understanding that if they do it will dramatically change all four of their lives.
The production’s set and costume designer, David Zinn, suggests that “these lizards are kind of like marine iguanas crossed with the Creature from the Black Lagoon.” A.C.T.’s new Head of Movement, Danyon Davis, further explains that:
“As a movement coach, I function like an editor: I help the actors to be clearer in their expression, adding things that were previously unaccounted for or stripping away something extraneous. The biggest part of my job is to help the actors make artistic choices that fall in line with the director’s overall vision for the play. People often confuse ‘movement work’ in theater with dance or choreography, but they are actually two distinct art forms. In dance, the body is used to illustrate mood and convey emotion (shapes and gestures are often imposed on the performer by the choreographer). In theater, however, the body must serve the text. Physical actions onstage must help actors to clarify intentions, deal with obstacles, and obtain objectives. The actors themselves make choices in action and these actions pertain directly to the exact circumstances of the play and what the actor knows about the nature of the character.”
Ellen McLaughlin and James Carpenter in a scene from Seascape (Photo by: Kevin Berne) |
“Pam MacKinnon has emphasized the need to help the actors discover the physical life of a lizard. Like any good coach, I make sure the players are mentally prepared and capable of sustaining a high quality of effort. The work is successful if I am enhancing strong artistic choices, not necessarily providing them myself. We’ve talked about the ‘enteric brain’ (the instinctive part of our brains that contains the hardwiring for our emotional lives). Most animals act immediately on their feelings -- there isn’t a whole lot of protracted consideration or debate. Part of my task will be to help the actors to bypass the ‘control tower brains’ above their shoulders and connect more with the immediacy of their ‘gut-brains.’”One of the biggest surprises is how funny Seascape can be. If you pay careful attention, you'll notice that Albee's lizards (who have been coupled for quite some time) roll their eyes when their partner does something ridiculous and apparently have a reptilian version of "Yes, dear." Watching Nancy and Charlie assume what they suppose are non-threatening and submissive positions only makes the lizards wonder if the humans are preparing to eat them. While Nancy and Sarah are able to strike up some kind of feminine bond, the males (as usual) are not particularly skilled at communication.
Veterans Ellen McLaughlin and James Carpenter dominate the evening with a natural grace, with Sarah Nina Hayon scoring points as the female lizard. Though he may have the least lines in the script, I got the most laughs from Seann Gallagher's oddly endearing portrayal of Leslie as a fairly macho lizard who is curious about, yet easily confused by new vocabulary.
James Carpenter and Ellen McLaughlin in a scene from Seascape (Photo by: Kevin Berne) |
MacKinnon's solid direction helps to put evolution in a new light, guiding the audience to a realization that lizards may be capable of more intelligence than humans suspect while humans may have some distinctly reptilian instincts of their own. A.C.T.'s production is enhanced by Isabella Byrd's lighting and the magnificent sound design by Brendan Aanes. Performances of Seascape continue through February 17 at the American Conservatory Theater (click here for tickets).
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