A Time to Open Up

Content warning: This post discusses assault, rape, abuse (physical and emotional), toxic behavior, and codependency. Please take care of yourself while reading and please reach out if you need to talk.

After getting involved in the CTC boycott, I’ve sat with the idea of opening up and sharing my experiences of being an assault survivor. I’ve continued to argue with myself about timing, if this is something I really need to share, if it’s appropriate, and so on – all the techniques that have kept me silent until now. I know I don’t have to share but I want to in the hopes that it will help someone – a survivor trying to take action or cope, or someone who is struggling to understand how what happened at CTC doesn’t just disappear.

When I was quite young – likely no older than four or five  – I stayed over with my grandmother while my parents went to a concert in another city. My grandmother had remarried (my grandfather having died long before I was born). Her second husband’s name was Ed. He lived on a house on a lake and I remember him having a seaplane. I have always remembered this lake, long before I remember where this memory was from.

My memory of what happened is fuzzy and jumbled. I remember a bedroom in a wood-paneled room and lying on the bed with someone beside me. I remember wearing a faux-denim dress with no back and someone’s hand resting on my bare back. I remember a pink sparkly bikini swimsuit and taking it off in a bathroom. I remember suddenly refusing to wear both of these clothing items later on and feeling sick and revolted at the sight of them. I remember a figure standing in a doorway at night, silhouetted by light behind them.

This is all I remember. It’s more than what I could recall a year ago. In fact, I would have never remembered much of this except for a series of events that unfolded over time – my parents mentioning rumors from my aunt that Ed had been to court due to allegations of pedophilia, which confirmed some fear I’d had of a name of a person I’d all but forgotten. That I had always ben Ed’s “favorite.” Hearing my grandmother relive her experiences of abuse at the hands of her second husband. And then the sudden intense end last year – my grandmother dying a week after my then-boyfriend broke up with me, citing a return of repressed memories of familial abuse as to why he couldn’t be in a relationship. Later that summer, I met up with my ex for a painful night (in more ways than one). The following night, while celebrating the end of grad school, I had the worst panic attack of my life, triggered no doubt by not being sober but also from events the night before. In between thinking I’d been drugged or that I was going to die, I had cyclical memories return about my ex and about Ed until I fell into the arms of one of my friends, screaming.

Here is what I know:

  • I will probably never remember entirely what happened at Ed’s. I was young and whatever occurred is deeply buried somewhere deep in the recesses of my mind. Whatever did happen, it was bad and my mind is still fumbling to understand it.
  • I have struggled with body image – from my weight to body dysmorphia to feeling like my body is not my own to feeling like I didn’t belong in my body/sort of dissociation. This came from somewhere. And given that I refused to wear anything that revealed my back until late in high school and didn’t wear a bikini again until after college, I have drawn the conclusion that whatever happened with Ed planted this in me.
  • I have had some questionable encounters and made questionable choices in my life. I have felt inferior to every partner I have been with, whether through their treatment or my own treatment of my body. I have had encounters that became nonconsensual at some point and I continue to struggle at how to describe them. As people discussing these issues continue to say “nonconsensual encounters are not a thing – just call it rape” – I feel like a terrible feminist for not wanting to use that word. I also feel like it is not mine to use – that some how it is a far worse thing than what I have experienced. But at what point, when something starts as consensual and becomes nonconsensual and you never feel that you can or should speak up to stop it, do I need to stop worrying about how to describe the experiences and care more about how I felt and how to move on from them? Or do I need to know how to define them? How much do my words matter if I only share these stories with myself, running the narratives over and over in my mind until I feel like I can’t breathe?
  • None of my partners know about my past trauma or about my feelings of nonconsensual activity with them. I never got the chance to discuss it with any of them, though I planned to with my recent ex and never got the opportunity.
  • I am still recovering from all of this, especially the break-up in what I now see was a toxic and codependent relationship. He is going through is own experience with trauma but, at some point, his dealing with it was harmful for me. It is a difficult situation and one I still struggle to discuss openly – perhaps because I fear what words can do, what talking about something had so many ambiguities might do. Some memories cause more pain than others – perhaps the one I continue to struggle with is a conversation is the first night we met up when he discussed a scene in a Fringe show he’d done a few years back, describing a scene people thought was a rape scene. He argued it didn’t depict rape, that instead it showed when things go too far between couples. At some level I think I knew this wasn’t right but I made myself agree, thinking that maybe I didn’t understand, didn’t know enough. And I made myself believe this for too long.
  • I don’t have answers. I only have my experiences, trying to open up about this, and more questions than I know what do do with.
  • Certain pop culture elements in my life have made me realize what kept me in a place of toxicness and what helped me wake up. “Jane Eyre,” “Twilight,” and and other Gothic romantic narratives gave me poor expectations as a teen, but now read like warning signs I didn’t quite see. “Jessica Jones,” the book Goodbye, Sweet Girl, and the poetry of Amanda Lovelace helped me realize the trauma that lived beneath the surface and gave me a place to sit and feel all the emotions I had buried beneath the surface.
  • I have learned that abuse doesn’t always look the way it does in film or TV. Sometimes it’s dark and insidious and hard to see in the moment. It’s hard to talk about now, because the narratives of Ed and my ex are so intertwined, with both “waking up” moments (so to speak) in my mind occurring at the same time. They are very different experiences and yet they mirror each other in an abuse of trust. Ed is now dead (he died a good ten years ago or more) so I have no fear talking about him. But talking about my ex – and issue I continue to dodge and avoid, for fear of sounding like a broken record who can only harp on about the same issue, for fear of what happens when people learn who he is and what I think, for fear of repercussions, of not being believed, for being criticized for not knowing better, not speaking up … the list of fears go on and on.
  • I have waited too long to talk about these experiences. I wanted to wait until I would feel comfortable, trying to write them in diary entries and deleted blogs and plays I never finished. There are numerous nonfiction pieces and abandoned novels sitting on my laptop that I can never return to because they’re just too painful. I was never going to feel comfortable talking about this- I decided today to dive in and do it, because it’s been a year since this all came to light in my mind. And it’s time to get it out of my mind and truly find a way to move on.

I would be lying if the moment I hit the publish button on this post, I won’t shake and panic. Talking about this is the scariest thing I’ve done. I’ve tried to make this post more readable, make it clearer, more concise, less jumbled. This is not a story or a set of experiences that can be made clear. I can go only so far to share my experiences here – this is so much left unsaid, so much I haven’t described, only because some details are too much for the online world. And they’re too much for me for what I’m ready to tell. If anything, I hope that this gives a better understanding for what kind of struggles survivors carry with them. I have only recently begun to understand how trauma has shaped my life and framed my experiences. I have only recently begun to resist the expectations my anxious mind has made for itself. I hope that if anyone out there reading this is a survivor, it gives you the confidence to keep fighting and to know that you are not alone.

Handled

Facebook
Source: Wildwood Theatre

About the Show

Penny is returning home after six weeks of residential treatment. In her absence, her mother, Melanie, created a Twitter account (@Shiny_Penny_1999) to help her meet people at the new school Penny will be attending in the fall and give her a foundation of where to start after treatment. Penny, however, doesn’t want to be shiny and feels outraged at her mother’s insistence at performing that everything is fine when Penny is truly battling depression on a daily basis. Tensions flair when Penny creates an alternate account (@Bad_Penny_69) to combat the forced persona of her mother’s account.

Why I Chose to See It

Wildwood Theatre is a new company in town, focusing on telling stories about mental health and combating the stigma around them. As “storytellers bound to reignite empathy,” they’re doing the kind of work I feel compelled to do in my own writing and I’m excited to see a new lens for theater and new work in general in the Twin Cities.

My Response

This is the sort of play I wish I’d seen about ten years ago, when I was undiagnosed with anxiety and struggling to come to terms with accepting that mental illness is A) far more common than we think, B) can affect anyone, and C) nothing to be ashamed of. This play is smart and funny, weaving Penny’s teenage growth and transition with transitioning to a life of self-care and openness. I have a lot in common with Penny – we express our struggle to communicate with anger (I cannot tell you how refreshing it is to see young women express anger on stage. It’s something I haven’t seen enough in theater), we spend a great deal of our time reading, and we want to talk openly and candidly about our mental illnesses. Having this character onstage alone is groundbreaking in a lot of ways. But it isn’t just Penny’s character who’s doing incredibly work (though I feel so much empathy for her I think it skews my view of everyone else). There’s Melanie, who’s reluctant to let go of the image she has of her daughter in her mind, which doesn’t match up to who Penny feels she really is. There’s the tension between creating an entire persona online versus having a mostly authentic persona (or as authentic as one can get in a limited amount of Twitter characters). There’s @IWantCandy, a high school student Melanie and Penny interact with online who appears to be a stereotypical bright, happy high school girl but is her own unique woman with her own unique struggles. Both Twitter Pennys are portrayed by actors who perform the Tweets, blending cyber life into real life in a way I really appreciate as a playwright (and something my MFA pal Allyson would really appreciate, making me wish she could see this show). Perhaps in the biggest surprise for me was Laura, Melanie’s coworker. I thought her firmly on Melanie’s side, pushing for Penny to be less troubled and just be happy. So imagine my surprise in Act 2 when (SPOILERS) Laura pulls out pill bottles from her purse and explains to Penny that she has had similar experiences.

At times, I really struggled with Melanie’s character only because she was so real to me. The play might require a certain suspension of belief that a parent would really create a Twitter profile and control a child’s life so much that she would dictate how far away her daughter could go to college. However, I know parents who told their kids what they could and could not major in, what classes they could take, etc. And as someone who’s experienced codependent relationships in my life, I can see a sort of codependence between Penny and Melanie. I do wish I had more backstory on Melanie and Penny’s relationship – not because I think it’s lacking in the play but because I just want more of it. I live every day of my life in the complex world that Melanie and Penny’s discussion inhabit so seeing that onstage is wonderfully comforting. It’s hard to hear at times, but so incredibly important to have stated and heard in front of an audience.

Overall

This play was really enjoyable and deals with mental illness, social media, and who we are versus the perceptions people have of us/who others believe us to be in a really lively, energetic way. I’m open about discussing my mental health but after seeing this show, I felt twenty times more open and immediately wanted to jump on Twitter (even though I rarely use the site) and use all the #endthestigma hashtags. Unfortuantely I wasn’t able to get this review up soon enough (the last performance is today at 2pm) so I can’t implore you to go see it. But you should absolutely keep Wildwood on your radar and seek out their future productions (hint hint: they have one in July). I’m so excited to see this theater creating work and I really look forward to seeing what else they create.

General Information

Handled is written by Shayne Kennedy and directed by Sarah Catcher and David Albino. It ran from April 25-28th at Off Leash Art Box. For future productions and show information, please visit their website.

The Korean Drama Addict’s Guide to Losing Your Virginity

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Source: muperformingarts.org

Note: I’m trying a new reviewing format. Like it, love it, dislike it – let me know!

About the Show: This title really says it all. Gao Hlee is a personality coach working with CEO mogul Benedict to improve his personality. Gao Hlee is infatuated with Korean dramas and uses them to express her desire to loose her virginity before she turns 30. As she and Benedict work around cultural barriers and cultural etiquette obstacles, fate fortune, and fantasy clash against what both of them desire.

Why I Chose to See It: I love Mu Performing Art’s work. The title alone intrigued me and how often can I say I’ve seen a world premiere play written by a Hmong woman playwright? Basically never. As a playwright myself, I love seeing new work, especially by women and people of color.

My Response: I absolutely loved this show. There were moments where I had no idea where things were going and was always surprised and delighted by the twists and turns in the story. There’s a certain kind of quality to it – I don’t want to call it melodrama, but it’s akin to that, mimicking the emotional quality of the Korean soap operas it channels from – that’s really delightful (though at first might feel like overacting to an audience). The piece is incredibly well-acted by the whole ensemble, though Katie Bradley steals the show. Dexieng Yang is also wonderful (and I’m excited to see what she does at Augsburg in their theater program as a recent Augsburg MFA grad myself). This piece is incredibly funny, there’s ghosts and shamans and karaoke (shout out to Brian Kim as Benedict for nailing my dream karaoke scene of someone singing Journey’s “Faithfully” to me), and as someone who didn’t start dating until my mid-twenties, I deeply related to Gao Hlee’s struggles (though my form of escape was Jane Eyre, not Korean soap operas. I regret this choice – Korean dramas seem way more fun).

Overall: Go see this show. You’ll laugh. You’ll sigh. You’ll never think about ramen the same way again. Best of all you’ll enjoy celebrating how relationships grow, change, and work to overcome obstacles. And you also might want to take up the habit of watching Korean dramas, which I’m doing ASAP.

General Information: The Korean Drama Addict’s Guide to Losing Your Virginity is written by May Lee-Yang and directed by Randy Reyes. It is running now through August 19th at Park Square Theatre. Tickets are available on Mu Performing Art’s website.

 

Updates and News

Hi friends –

You might have noticed that things look a little different around here. That’s because as I finish up grad school and move towards… well, whatever comes after, I’ve decided to start a website where I can share my work as a playwright and dramaturg. I’m also looking into revamping this blog. I’ll continue to refer to it as The Room Where It Happens (I still own that domain and searching for it should still bring you here? I have lots of things to parse out around that) and I’m still planning to do some reviewing – however, it’ll look different. I’m far less interested in telling you if a show was good or bad and if you should see it. I’d rather talk about how it emotionally affects me and what sort of impact it leaves me with. I’m also hoping to do a lot more with discussions of theater creating – especially surrounding my own writing and works in process.

So, we’ll see where that all goes. Stay tuned!

Vietgone

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Source: twitter.com/mixed_blood

Without a doubt, Vietgone is my new favorite show. I’ve known Qui Nguyen’s writing from She Kills Monsters, a favorite script of mine that (while I’ve yet to see staged) I cherish for its female protagonists and humorous perspective on D&D and geek culture. But I wasn’t prepared for the hilarious, heartbreaking, and sexy world that Vietgone creates.

How do I begin to describe this performance? Well, for one, there’s the stellar cast of characters – the playwright (Sherwin Resurreccion) introduces us to Quang (David Huynh) and Tong (Meghan Kreidler), who met each other in a refugee camp in Arkansas. Tong and her mother (Sun Mee Chomet) have come to America in order to escape the collapse and fallout of US Troops pulling out of Vietnam. Quang, a helicopter pilot for the South Vietnamese forces, has come to the US against his will after he and his friend Nahn (Flordelino Langundino) landed on an US military vessel and had no way of going back to Vietnam. Quang wants nothing more than to find his way back to Vietnam while Tong believes the life that’s best for her, where she can become who she wants to be, can only be found in the US. Despite their differences, they become “friends with benefits,” then fall in love. But the struggles of being an immigrant, a refugee from war, in the United States complicates their lives and their relationships.

Chomet and Kreidler steal the show with their hilarious mother-daughter relationship (especially Chomet, whose punch lines and physical humor will make your sides ache). This entire cast is incredible, moving between bold, honest sexuality and painful loss with boldness and delicacy. Punctuating certain scenes are rap numbers, feeling half Doomtree, half Lin Manuel Miranda. They highlight inner thoughts the way a monologue would but add an energy and musical element that fuels and powers the show in its rich, vibrant language and environment. In a nonlinear narrative, the raps also work to tie different scenes together as they occur out of time sequentially.

Language is used wonderfully in this show – playing with American words to give the idea of what English sounds like to those who don’t speak it, replacing sentences with words like “Tater tots! Nixon!” Playfully and seriously making fun of the US, the criticism is not just about American culture but how refugees are treated, how one finds a home in a country that promises things it cannot deliver, and the complications of US military involvement. I learned essentially nothing about the Vietnam War in school, except that most people think that it was a mistake. This play clues us in on a different perspective – that South Vietnam needed US military intervention in order to keep the VC from destroying them, and that one cannot simply painting a war as right or wrong. Showing life in the camps scattered throughout the US, camps I never knew existed, not only presents overlooked history, but at a different kind of immigration story – one that complicates the narrative we think we know.

With amazing design by Paul Whitaker (set and lighting), Abbee Warmboe (properties), Mandi Johnson (costumes), and C Andrew Mayer (sound), this production creates a world that shifts easily between time and space, allowing for everything from a motorcycle trip to California, profanity-filled mother -daughter arguments about the camp, and movie-referencing sex scenes (including Say Anything, When Harry Met Sally, and Titanic to name a few) all set to the soundtrack of Redbone’s groovy “Come and Get Your Love.” You really just have to see it.

This show is sensual, heartwarming, provocative, and challenging, making its audience question not only what we think we know about sex and relationships, but also what we think we know about history and about the US. It’s one of the funniest shows I’ve ever seen while also giving voice to a story that until now, I’ve never heard. Some argue that theater should be entertainment, some argue it should say something important about being human, some say it should allow for different voices and different perspectives to be heard. Vietgone does all of that and more. It absolutely should not be missed.

Vietgone is written by Qui Nguyen and is directed by Mark Valdez. It is playing now through April 30th at Mixed Blood Theatre. Ticket and show information can be found on Mixed Blood’s website. For every performance, tickets are available free of price, first come/first served, two hours before the show through Mixed Blood’s Radical Hospitality program.

Local Music Scene: Geoffrey Brown

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If you’re like me and you just realized it’s the end of February, then you might be thinking about attending this month’s Local Music Scene at Bryant Lake Bowl. But first, here’s a very belated look at January’s event with Geoffrey Brown, of the Dregs.

If you’re unfamiliar with the Local Music Scene, each month a local musician performs some of their songs while a team of improv artists brainstorm scenes based off the lyrics. After the songs, the artists perform the scenes. Geoffrey Brown, who describes his songwriting as, “I specialize in sad songs with catchy melodies” provided the audiences with songs perfect for our “post-truth” era about lying, truth, and poverty, as well as stories about pretending to play the banjo and giving advice of choosing adventure “because safety’s boring.”

The improv scenes that accompanied were wonderful, playing off the themes of truth, adventure, and reminding us it’s a bad idea to tell your sister you can totally play the banjo at her wedding when you can’t play at all. If you’re looking for an opportunity to take life a little less seriously and enjoy some local music, certainly check it out. They’re back at Bryant Lake on the 27th with Amanda Costner as their music guest.

Ticket and show information can be found on The Local Music Scene’s Facebook page or Bryant Bowl’s website. For more of Geoffrey Brown’s music, check him out on Gigsalad.

 

Local Music Scene: John Genz

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Source: facebook.com/thelocalmusicsceneimprov

If you haven’t heard of about the Local Music Scene at Bryant Lake Bowl, listen now. Once a month, Bryant Bowl hosts this mash-up of improv scenes based off the lyrics of songs performed by a local musician. This month featured John Genz, described as a “violent lamb of a man” whose music hovers somewhere between folk and punk.

I was unfamiliar with Genz’s music before hand but am certainly a fan now. Penning lyrics that capture heartbreak, angst, isolation, and anxiety, I have a lot of personal reasons for enjoying the lyrics. And, as the questions asked throughout the show about the musician (which breaks down the traditional divide between performer and audience) we learn about the inspiration for the songs, the musician’s view on the world, and other random fun facts (like Genz is a Cultural Studies and Comparative Literature major. As I’ve got my undergrad in that, I feel like that’s important to mention).

The improv scenes that occur after the songs and Q&A were hilarious, creating math jokes, a complicated relationship between a man and his dog, seeing VHS rental stores as museums, and surprising amount of mentions of Mogadishu. You kind of had to be there. Nevertheless, the wonderful combo of music and humor is the perfect mix and a great way to spend a Monday evening in Uptown. They’ll be back at Bryant Lake on January 30th with Geoffrey Brown will be their guest and certain to be a night of great songs and lots of laughs.

Ticket and show information can be found on The Local Music Scene’s Facebook page or Bryant Bowl’s website. For John Genz’s music, check out his Bandcamp page.

La Natividad

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Source: In the Heart of the Beast

La Natividad, In the Heart of the Beast’s reoccurring Christmas show inspired by the gospels of Matthew and Luke, is one of the most poignant shows you’ll find this holiday season. Traveling to site-specific locations culminating in a procession to St Paul’s Lutheran Church near In the Heart of the Beast’s theater, this performance combines a Christmas pageant-style story with a remarkable music, puppetry, and masks.

I’ve never seen La Natividad before, but I was surrounded by many who had. It was wonderful to watch their experiences and hear them singing along with songs they had heard before as I took it all in for the first time. While I grew up Roman Catholic and am very familiar with the story of the Nativity, it’s never felt so relevant before. Drawing parallels with stories of refugees and immigration, this bilingual show, presented both in English and Spanish –  follows Maria and Jose’s trek grappling with Maria’s pregnancy while also dealing with Cesar Augustus’s call for people to return to their place of birth in order to be counted and accounted for. While filling out immigration papers, Jose proclaims, “Isn’t a person worth more than paperwork?” Meanwhile, King Herod hears about the coming of a child who will be “king of all kings” and, threatened by one who will be more powerful than he, attempts to bar entry to those seeking refuge in Bethlehem. There’s something very Trump-like about Herod, both in the costuming and in the words he delivers and, while In the Heart of the Beast confirms that this is the same presentation of Herod that they’ve had in years past, it seems my mind and those of others watching the performance couldn’t help but imprint current events onto Herod (the exaggerated gestures of his hands don’t help. Trust me, you just have to see it). It really emphasizes how stories of refugees and those who refuse to give them shelter repeat over and over and over again.

This performances is unlike any theater experience I’ve had before – perhaps because it’s more than just a theater experience. It’s site-specific, immersive, and personal. It doesn’t just break the fourth wall – it never feels like there’s a fourth wall to begin with. In between scenes as you travel from place to place, you’re able to chat with your neighbors and see what their reactions are to each scene. At the end of the performance, after a lush and magical scene in which the world welcomes the birth of Jesus, performers and patrons alike congregate for a fiesta, with warm food and drinks prepared by volunteers. I’ve never felt so welcomed into a community nor have I ever had so many strangers talk to me just for the sake of getting to know someone new. I’ve been spending more time on Lake Street this year for theater than I ever have before (frequenting In the Heart of the Beast, the Jungle, Frank Theatre’s site-specific show, and Pillsbury House) and I love the community I’ve found her.

While this show has its roots in Christianity and the New Testament, this performance is one people of all faiths can enjoy. I myself am agnostic and found the story affirming of the hope and beauty I’m looking for in the world right now, and also found it much warmer and heartfelt retelling than I ever experienced in the churches I attended. At the fiesta afterwards, audience members are welcome to record their responses to the show on a board and ask further questions – who would I shelter? Who would shelter me? Would I shelter an enemy? With our current political climate, these questions are more relevant than ever.

La Natividad is playing now through December 22nd in the Lake-Midtown neighborhood. Show and ticket information can be found on In the Heart of the Beast’s website. Group rates are available and no one is turned away for lack of funds.

White Christmas

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Source: ordway.org

I find it important to be honest in my reviews, even if I risk being unpopular. While most everything I’ve read about the Ordway’s White Christmas is full of positivity, remarking on its charm and holiday cheer, I had a far different experience with this show. I feel almost embarrassed, like the Grinch about to run off with Whoville’s Christmas decorations. But I believe overlooking the issues I have will do more harm than good and I believe it important to our theater community to consider the issues I have with this production, even if I end up being the only one who sees them.

Don’t get me wrong. This theatrical elements of this production are incredible. The costuming, set construction, lighting and effects are wonderful. The cast is fantastic, with some of the Twin Cities best – Brian Sostek, Dieter Bierbrauer, Ann Michels, Jenny Piersol, James Detmar, Gary Briggle, and Thomasina Petrus. But I’m not happy about the story told. I know it takes place in the 1950s and that “times were different.” I know that the source is a movie that can only be updates so much without completely leaving the story that so many know and love behind. Yet I’m still astonished how sexist the show was. From Phil Davis’ comments and smug flirting with Judy, to the portrayal of the twins Rita and Rhoda as unintelligent sex objects, to the moment a girl stretching at the piano freezes with her leg up in the air as General Waverly enters during rehearsal and ogles at her leg, making her body the punch line of a joke – all of this added up to make a very uncomfortable experience for me and my friend who accompanied me.

I really wanted to enjoy this show. I desperately wanted a moment of escapism for  just a few hours to leave behind this rough year we’ve had, to embrace the holiday cheer that is meant to be at the heart of this story. Instead, I felt like I was walloped in the face by the very things that I struggle with every day – women being objectified, harmful jealousies caused by women seeing the men they want to possess in the company of other women, believing that women have to force a  man to “settle down,” and benevolent sexism in its many forms. Theater doesn’t exist in a vacuum and when current issues appear in a script, they’re amplified by the cultural moment I find them in. Maybe it’s bad luck that White Christmas happened to be staged in a year when sexism is at the forefront of many people’s minds. But it’s also important to me what decision were made in this staging and I’m disappointed that these concerns didn’t seem to be at the top of mind. Perhaps the actors and artistic team dealt with these experiences internally during rehearsals (and I hope for the sake of the actresses onstage that they did) but I certainly didn’t get the feeling that they had from the performance I saw. Instead, I felt uncomfortable for them, for myself, and for the other women in the audience.

I’m sure that 90% of people who see this show will enjoy it and I’m sure that people will day I’m making a mountain out of a molehill. But representation matters. I’m one of the few people who had a negative experience with this show and I’m not going to pretend that I didn’t. I’m not going to write what I think people want to hear or shy away from criticism. I don’t want to overshadow the good work the Ordway does based off of one production, but I am disappointed by this show and expect better in a theater community that is usually very sensitive to issues such as these. I hope that by recognizing these issues in theater we can have better discussions about how to work around or change these issues in productions and recognize them, rather than ignoring them.

White Christmas is written by Irving Berlin, Dave Ives, and Paul Blake and is directed by Jame A. Rocco. It is playing now through December 31st at the Ordway. Ticket and show information can be found on the Ordway’s website.

Bluebeard’s Dollhouse

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Source: facebook.com/combustible-company

If you’re like me and love this time of year for its spookiness but don’t like the idea of going to an intense haunted house, then Bluebeard’s Dollhouse by Combustible Company at the James J Hill House is the perfect Halloween experience for you. Merging Henrik Ibsen’s A Doll House with the dark fairytale Bluebeard’s Wife, this immersive theater experience throws you into a psychologically tense and riveting journey through a house ridden with people trying to face their fears and struggle against the confines of the house, of relationships, and of society itself.

I’e never attended immersive theater before and this was a wonderful first experience. Expertly led by actors from room to room and split into groups so that the story unfolds in a different order depending who you’re experiencing it with, two stories (of Nora and Thorvold, and Bluebeard and his wife/wives) intertwine of a mesmerizing, eerie, and unsettling marriage. With an extremely talented cast of Isaac Bont, Beth Brooks, Karla Grotting, Paul Herwig, Erik Hoover, Renee Howard, Rachel Nelson, Lillian Noonan, Pearl Noonan, Anna Pladson,and Jonathan Saliger, all play different variations of Nora and Bluebeard/Throvold. This allows different versions of these characters to act out the story over and over, like they are reliving or retelling their past. They ask at end of the show, if you do something over and over, will it turn out different? And when it doesn’t, why do we think that it will? This refers not just to the horrors Bluebeard creates, but repetition in marriage, in communication, in hautings and what haunts us and, in a sense, in theater itself.

What’s so wonderful about this show is that since it’s immersive and sight-specific, you’re drawn deeply into this world and firmly rooted in this strange, otherworldly place where both magic and horror coexist. With astonishingly detailed costumes by Allisa McCourt and Nico Swenson, a soundscape of organ music and clock chimes, projections and videos by Jim Peitzman, vocal direction by Kalen Keir, and captivating writing and direction by Kym Longhi, for 80 minutes you truly feel you are caught in this house where secrets hanging in the air as thick as fog. This piece is wonderfully coordinated and I was deeply impressed with the flow (as well as the crowd control) of this performance and stage management of Caleigh Gumbiner. You also don’t have to know the source material to understand the show, but if you’re familiar with both Ibsen’s play and the fairytale, it’ll add an extra layer to this beautifully dense piece. And if you want some quick background before the show, the program has a wonderfully written essay by dramaturg William Banks.

I don’t want to say too much about this show because there’s different ways to interpret what’s going on (especially through the wonderful metaphors and symbolism through keys, mirrors, letters, dolls, veils, and knives). So go see it and tell me what you saw and I’ll tell you about my experience. I saw this in one order and I’d love to know how it feels in the other many possible ways that exist in seeing it.

Bluebeard’s Dollhouse is written and directed by Kym Longhi. It is playing now through October 15th at the James J Hill House. Show and ticket information can be found on Combustible Company’s website.