St. Louis Eats and Drinks

Elsinore

Another premiere of a new play in town? Yes, Elsinore comes to us via Prison Performing Arts. Their alumni group, aided by some professional actors, shows off The Chapel’s improved acoustics with this play from David Nonemaker and Eric Satterfield.

It’s the prequel to Shakespeare’s Hamlet, taking us from Hamlet’s adolescence forward. Shakespeare scholars argue over just how old Hamlet would have been at his demise – sorry if that’s a spoiler, but at least it’s not occurring in this play – but Elsinore covers about fourteen years. And if it does nothing else, it offers an explanation of why Hamlet’s mother and his uncle marry soon after his father’s death. Yeah, it’s always creeped me out, too.

When Elsinore opens, our hero the adolescent Hamlet (Oliver Bacus) has come to his uncle Claudius (Eric Satterfield – one of the authors), full of fire and fury over how his father treats him. He’s not interested, he whines, in settling down and learning how to be a king, he wants to follow his own Best Life. Uncle and nephew truly seem to have a close relationship and when Claudius suggests some time at university for the prince, that seems to be a possible answer. King Hamlet (John Wolbers), ye olde father, whose irritation at his son seems a mile wide and equally deep does agree reluctantly to shipping the young one off. Queen Gertrude (LaWanda Jackson) is more sympathetic to the boy, but can’t do much because of her husband’s bad temper and sharp tongue. And so we have the basic setup, aided by Claudius’ wife Colette (Julie Antonic), pregnant with a much-wanted child, courtier Polonius (David Nonemaker – and here’s the other author), Polonius’ daughter Ophelia (Summer Baer), and the ever-popular Rosekranz (Ryan Lawson-Maeske) and Guildenstern (Joey File), here in the employ of Claudius and sent off to school on his dime to keep an eye on the impulsive prince.

For all its serious ancestry, there’s certainly some humor here. Wolbers’ King Hamlet is mostly, and seemingly quite deliberately, over the top, making us even more sympathetic to the young prince. (And doesn’t it bring vague memories of a similar situation the world may have heard about a few decades ago?) The Nonemaker take on Polonius is a long-winded sycophant with the most deadpan face imaginable. Ophelia, courtesy of Summer Baer and the script, is a Modern Young Woman, interested in learning and willing to speak her mind when encouraged. And File and Lawson-Maeske bring the dynamic duo of R&G to the point of near-giggles.

The language, while Shakespeare-esque, isn’t so hard to follow as the original, for those new to this sort of thing. Particular kudos to Ellie Schwetye, sound engineer for this production, who knows the venue’s quirks well from much work there previously. Erik Kuhn’s lights and Liz Henning’s costumes helped pull it together.

Still, the biggest round of applause needs to go to Christopher Limber, the director and retiring artistic director at PPA, whose good work is surely appreciated.

The play only ran this past weekend, but if it pops up again, as sometimes happens with such things, it’s a worthwhile evening.

 

Elsinore

Prison Performing Arts

http://www.prisonperformingarts.org

Craving Cookies

Hooray! Helen Fletcher, pastry goddess, has a new cookbook about to be available. It's Called Craving Cookies. I loved it, and you can read more here/

The Zoo Story/The Dumb Waiter

When it comes to timelessness in playwrights, the gold standard is Shakespeare. So flexible, goodness knows – but then there’s that language, beautiful but clearly dated. Ibsen? The misogyny, so painful to watch, but thankfully from another time. (At least we hope so.)

So it was interesting to realize that St. Louis Actors’ Studio’s opening presentation this season is a pair of one-act two-handers that date from before most Americans were born. And there’s only one giveaway to their age. SLAS has placed the show in the capable hands of veteran director Wayne Salomon.

Edward Albee’s The Zoo Story takes place in Central Park, where Peter (William Roth), a successful Upper East Side resident, is quietly reading on a park bench. Up wanders Jerry (Joel Moses) – and since it’s Albee, you know the fireworks will start quickly. Jerry’s been to the zoo and wants to talk about it. Peter, following New York style, wants minimal interaction with this guy. Jerry’s nervous. Or something. Joel Moses’ Jerry is as mesmerizing as a snake who keeps coiling and uncoiling. Is he crazy-malevolent or merely malevolent? How much of his story is true? What does he really want? Peter seems as hypnotized as we are. Well, for a while.

From across the pond comes The Dumb Waiter, an early work from Harold Pinter. A couple of yobs with working-class British accents are on cots (in the American sense of the word, not baby cribs, the British usage) in what seems to be a basement. They’re waiting for the word to finish an assignment, apparently a murder of some sort. They’ve done this before. As we meet them, Ben (William Roth), fully dressed, reads a newspaper. Gus (Joel Moses), the younger guy, has his tie untied, shirt tail out and is putting on his shoes after a nap, a particularly fine bit of wordless physical comedy. Still, this is Pinter, so there’s some fine wordplay, too. Even the title – dumb as in mute? Dumb as in not smart? Waiter waiting on tables or waiting for something to happen? Patrick Huber’s fine and extremely versatile set even gives us what is almost a third character in the basement.

Moses is clearly an actor to keep one’s eye on. It’s only his second St. Louis appearance onstage – he did the Aphra Behn Festival in 2020 – but he steps right up and owns the parts, particularly in Zoo Story. For Roth, his unshakeability in both plays becomes intriguingly frayed in the Albee and we see it balancing off the craziness of the Jerry character. Salomon is directing them like Leonard Slatkin handles his baton.

What? The dated thing? Both these edge-of-your-seat plays were written and opened in the late 1950’s, The Zoo Story in 1958 and The Dumb Waiter from 1957. The single thing that dated them, to my ear, was Roth’s Peter in Zoo Story admitting to Jerry that his salary – which kept up an apartment big enough for his wife, two daughters, and their pets in the Upper East Side of Manhattan – was $18,000 a year. Another commonality? Both were considered so radical at the time that they weren’t first performed in their countries of origin. The Pinter opened in Frankfurt, the Albee in Berlin. (And for trivia buffs, the original off-Broadway company in New York, ca. 1960, had William Daniels as Peter and George Maharis as Jerry.)

A fascinating, amazing double feature.

 

The Zoo Story/The Dumb Waiter

through October 3, 2021

St. Louis Actors’ Studio

Gaslight Theatre

360 N. Boyle

314-458-2978

stlas.org

Dreaming Zenzile

The Rep reopens – and with a world premiere. Dreaming Zenzile is based on the life story of Miriam Makeba, the singer-songwriter-activist. Probably a couple of generations are saying Who’s she?

A Black woman born in the townships of South Africa, she began singing with groups and was participated in Come Back, Africa, a film that was in the Venice Film Festival in 1959. She was brought to Venice for the festival. That kicked off her international career. Harry Belafonte was her mentor, she moved to New York and began singing in the New York jazz clubs, merging jazz and African styles. Record contracts and national television followed. Living in South Africa during apartheid would probably be enough to make anyone super-socially conscious, but when she tried to go home for her mother’s funeral, she found her South African passport had been canceled because she’d spoken out on racial issues. Over time, she became as well known as an activist as she was as a musician.

This is the woman that playwright Somi Kokoma introduces us to on the Rep stage. Kokoma, a singer and songwriter herself, plays Zenzile Miriam Makeba, whose first name was dropped as she began to sing professionally. Four other actors, Naledi Masilo, Phindile Wilson, Aaron Marcellus and Phumzile Sojola portray different people in Makeba’s life and are credited as the Sangoma Chorus – sangomas are traditional healers in southern Africa. We’re also in full sight of the musicians, Herve’ Samb (music director and guitar), Toru Dodo (piano), Sheldon Thwaites (drums) and Pathe’ Jassi (bass).

The story isn’t linear, but it’s fairly easy to follow, even though much of the first act isn’t in English. The music certainly is universal and comes from many sources, from Zulu through Afropop and the Great American Songbook to her own compositions. She sang in Swahili, Sotho and Xhosa, and, yes, Xhosa is one of the languages with the “click” consonant. In fact, one of Makeba’s hits was a traditional song that she recorded as “The Click Song” - you can hear it here . There’s also ululation, the warbling, high pitched back-of-the-mouth sound found through much of Africa, the Middle East and parts of Asia. I believe it’s the first time it’s heard on the Rep stage.

Kokoma certainly has the pipes to play Makeba; she sounds wonderful. And the chorus, especially singing a capella, are remarkable. The arrangements of the songs, many of which are done by Kokoma and Samb really resonate. And it’s fun to watch the band during the numbers that swing.

Lileana Blain-Cruz directs the ensemble. The set, a concert stage in Italy, is by Ricardo Hernandez with lighting by Yi Zhao and projections designer Hannah Wasileski, all very subtle to contrast with the music and action. Mimi Plange’s costumes move well, particularly in the second act.

The fly in the ointment for this otherwise-satisfying show is that the sound, especially in the first act, is often blurry, with the music overriding lyrics, even in English and the spoken word not resonating. This is not a house that generally has acoustic problems, so it’s particularly notable.

Still, a worthwhile evening for music lovers and those who want to learn more about a world-renown activist. You can learn more about Miriam Makeba on this from the Rep's website.

 

Dreaming Zenzile

through October 3

Repertory Theatre St. Louis

Loretto-Hilton Center for the Performing Arts

130 Edgar Rd., Webster Groves

314-968-4925

repstl.org/

Sweat

The Black Rep starts the ‘21-’22 season off with a bang. Lynn Nottage’s Sweat is definitely a play that talks about lots of things we struggle with. Nottage takes on racism, classism, the perfidiousness of corporate management, all in one sweeping evening. Substance abuse is just a sort of garnish to everything else.

Alas, she hasn’t got a cure for those things, but that’s no excuse – at all – for not talking about them. Director Ron Himes, the founder of the Black Rep, has pulled it all together for an enthralling evening.

It’s a blue collar world in Pennsylvania, mainly a bar, where the action takes place. Three women, regular patrons, have worked in a local factory for decades. Two of them have sons considering getting jobs there. Life is thrumming along, although one woman has just finally thrown her husband out because he’s again relapsed with his drug use. A fair amount of alcohol is being consumed, but the bartender, who’s obviously known them for a long time, is unflappable. It turns out there’s a job posting for a manager. Much joshing bout who should apply, and eventually two of the three do just that. Only one, of course, can get the job, and since there are men applying too, the outcome is up in the air.

Cynthia (Velma Austin), the one who’s bounced her husband, gets the nod to leave her slot on the floor and move into the office. She’s Black. That factor isn’t a component for a while. As time passes and the plant looks more and more like it’s going to have some serious layoffs or shut down entirely, it raises its ugly head. Management is trying to hire replacement workers if the union walks out over the company’s demands – you’ll hear the word “scabs” used to describe the replacement workers, if you’re unfamiliar with the term. Tensions rise everywhere in the community. The people whose jobs are in danger seem in denial at first and then cannot understand why their one time friend can’t fix this, why the union is helpless

Austin, Amy Loui and Kelly Howe are the trio of women, and the rowdy group navigates the changing emotion of the time period – from 2000 to 2008 – extremely well. Blake Anthony Edwards is the bartender, a remarkable, graceful referee in an establishment whose walls hold everything from dancing to threats. Oscar, his right-hand guy, is Gregory Almanza, who fleshes out Oscar’s increasingly important story as the show progresses. Franklin Killian and Brian McKinley play the two sons, one more curious about the outside world than the other, but both wanting to protect their mothers. And A.C. Smith as the banished husband exhibits his considerable ability to go from charming to explosive in a nanosecond, as he has often shown Black Rep audiences.

David Simon, who created “The Wire” was discussing the late actor Michael K. Williams in The New York Times. And he said this:

It’s about the death of work, I told him. When legitimate work itself dies in an American city, I argued, and the last factory standing is the drug corners, then everyone goes to a corner...it’s about economics and the collapse of the working class – Black and white both.

This is a painful, important and truthful play. The Black Rep gives it full respect. Great work from all concerned.

 

Sweat

through September 26

The Black Rep

Edison Theatre at Washington University

https://www.theblackrep.org/

The Ville: Avengeance!

Those who do not remember history are doomed to repeat it. Much argument about this quote, its exact wording and original source, to be sure, but the message is the same: We need to learn history. St. Louis Shakespeare Festival annual event Shakespeare in the Streets is back after a year’s hiatus, giving us the remarkable piece The Ville: Avengeance! There’s lots of relatively unknown history in it.

As is the tradition, it’s outdoors, with some seating, but mostly BYO lawn chairs (or blankets, but the street is blocked off for the audience, and most of us would be mighty uncomfortable). The stage is the lawn of Annie Malone Children and Family Services’ lovely Georgian-style building in the midst of the historic Ville neighborhood.

Playwright Mariah Richardson (a graduate of nearby Sumner High School and the author of, among many other things, Love at the River’s Edge, a previous SLSF Shakespeare in the Streets) brings us the ghosts of Annie Malone (Michelle Dillard) and a young man named Hopeless (Tylan Mitchell) who was killed nearby. They both appear before two guys visiting the neighborhood. Hamlet (Brandon Ellis), who’s inherited a house his grandfather owned in the Ville, has brought his buddy along from North County to take a look at the property. They hadn’t bargained on a couple of ghosts.

But it’s the ghosts that bring it to these suburban guys, talking about the Ville, complete with honest assessments of things like segregation, redlining and urban crime. The stories of the neighborhood that supported Black businesses and cultural institutions are mostly news to Hamlet and Heratio, and probably to some of us as well – despite how well we think we know St. Louis history. The story is clearly, vividly told, including Hamlet’s grandparents. The fictional Grandma (Arthurine Harris) was a graduate of Homer G. Phillips School of Nursing, which I can tell you from personal experience produced some extraordinary women; his grandfather (Carl Overly, Jr.) quite a persistent charmer from Mississippi. Alex Jay, as the narrator, rounds out the cast, all of whom can be pretty much described as enthralling. Nevertheless, Dillard’s Malone stands out, a formidable woman who tells the story with powerful restraint.

In addition, there are two music breaks from The Legend Singers, whose long history goes back to Kenneth Billups, who taught music at Sumner, and who was certainly a legend himself. They add immensely to the experience.

Thomasina Clarke, who also has deep, deep roots in the Ville, directed. The history of the neighborhood is enhanced by the set from Peter and Margery Spack, using multiple smaller white screens upon which are projected illustrations of photos, advertisements and newspaper clippings relevant to the story. Bryant Powell deserves credit for the lighting, which moves the story along smoothly.

A delightful and important piece of work that contributes greatly to the understanding of life in St. Louis. Alas, only running for three nights, closing Saturday, September 11. Do your best to see it if you want to learn a lot and have a fine outdoor theatre experience.

 

The Ville: Avengeance!

through September 11

St. Louis Shakespeare Festival

https://stlshakes.org/production/theville/