REVIEW: Workshop Theatre's CATS

CATS … finds success with a cast that exhibits unflinching commitment to the task at hand (and they seem to be having a rather good time while they’re doing it).

Workshop Theatre of South Carolina opened their production of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s CATS last weekend, starting a three-week run of this show which ran for 18 years on Broadway. As the resident community theatre troupe at Columbia College’s Cottingham Theatre, the Workshop presentation is a special collaboration between Workshop and the Columbia College Dance Education and Dance Studies program - creating a unique opportunity for community actors and dance students to work together. 

Based on T.S. Eliots Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats, Webber’s CATS has been performed for over 40 years and had a feature film adaptation in 2019. For those reasons, we’ll spare you a synopsis and move right along.  

CATS, under the direction of Julian Deleon, finds success with a cast that exhibits unflinching commitment to the task at hand (and they seem to be having a rather good time while they’re doing it). This ensemble, which consists of over 35 performers, hits their marks, are constantly engaged in catlike activities, and ultimately offers an energetic performance that feels dutifully rehearsed.  

Actors Bobby L. Rogers (Munkustrap), Katherine Brown (Bombalurina), Carly Siegel (Demeter) and Blythe Long (Jellylorum) hold the audiences’ hands (read: paws) throughout the production as their characters are charged with introducing us to many of the characters or informing the viewers about the history and traditions of the Jellicle Cats. All four performers have truly lovely voices that are fitting for Webber’s vocal score, and they all lead the proceedings with poise and control that makes the audience feel welcome to their secret society.  

Lisa Baker, as Grizabella, does an admirable job in this production. Baker’s performance of “Memory” satisfies fans of the song due to her powerful vocals and purr-fect tone (sorry, we had to) that throws comforting nods to the Betty Buckley performance we’ve heard countless times over the last four decades.  

The performances of Nathan Jackson (Mungojerrie) and Jessica Roth (Rum Tum Tugger) are also winning moments for this production. Jackson’s Mungojerrie feels incredibly familiar to folks who have experienced the original production of this piece. He’s fun, mischievous, and quite comfortable with his dance duties. Roth’s Rum Tum Tugger deviates from the usual characterization that mixes Tom Jones with glam rockers of the 80s and provides audiences with a Janis Joplin-esque rock-n-roller that is delightful when she takes the show over.  

Without a doubt, Choreographer Erin Bailey was responsible for a larger part of the production than is usual with most musical theatre works. Bailey has created a lot of movement for the cast that allows the trained dancers to wow us when they take the spotlight, and for the “movers” in the cast to look their best throughout most of the production. While some moments aren’t as successful as others, there is a lot of varied movement throughout the production and your eyes don’t get tired seeing a large cast execute it.  

To that end, Emily Jordan (Victoria on March 9th), Katherine Brown (Bombalurina) and Jack Thompson (Mistoffilees) gave us professional performances in regard to dance in the production. They lend Bailey’s work the talent that it desires, and they give longtime CATS fans a glimpse into the choreographic focus with which the show originated.  

Music Director Taylor Dively, in his first time navigating the music for a full-length musical, shows promise in that the vocals of CATS are rather good - especially when regarding the soloists. However, the sound design makes the proceedings uncomfortable at times as the sopranos are too high in the mix - which can make certain moments feel like a caterwaul rather than the good blend coming from stage. On March 9, the band was unfortunately not meeting the cast’s performance level, as the show began with wrong notes on the keyboards, destroying the iconic opening melody. These sorts of accidents occurred often throughout the evening, leaving us hoping that the musicians will realize that they are being paid to be there, and should therefore be just as prepared as the cast who is donating their talent. 

Ultimately, despite the efforts of the cast, this production suffers from a design concept that simply does not work. The show has been promoted as “not your mother’s CATS” - and this is truthful advertising. Our mother’s CATS had humans in fully committed feline-wear, and the illusion worked rather well to make such a bizarre concept a Broadway and West End hit. Workshop’s cats have painted noses with headbands or hats that have “cat ears” attached. Our mother’s CATS had fun set pieces that allowed the cast to create a train out of oversized junk pieces laying around the set along with other moments of inventive whimsy. Workshop’s cats had bare bones structures with some castored scaffolding that left us thinking we were watching CATS on a scaled down set of RENT. The show asks for many moments of reveal, surprise, inventiveness and magic that, in this production, were simply absent. We were not tricked into thinking Macavity was in disguise as Old Deuteronomy. We did not believe we had witnessed magic when Mistoffelees motioned for the cast to wheel Old Deuteronomy back on stage when he’s supposed to be miraculously summoned. The same lack-of-illusion applies when Grizabella is wheeled off stage left as she finally ascends to the Heaviside Layer. Where’s the thrilling sleight of hand? The possibility of that felt lost in the first 30 seconds when a crew member, portraying a human in the wrong alley, walked across the stage making it clear the felines were the same scale as he.  

Cast member Harrison Ayer’s bio briefly and aptly reads that Ayer “is a human, acting like a cat dressed like a human.” That’s pretty much what you get with this directorial concept. If it was a big idea that didn’t come to fruition due to the immensity of the project, then it can be forgiven. However, if this production meets the vision of those who created it - then perhaps this CATS shouldn't have been let out of the bag. Doing “different” is welcome, but only when there’s a relatable or inventive perspective that exposes something newly relevant or unexpected about a cherished work.

We always invite patrons to challenge our reactions by taking the time to see the work themselves. Art is entirely subjective, and you may have a very different experience. If you want to see a fully committed cast giving you undeniable energy in tandem with some rather talented dancers that are performing one of the theatre industry’s most successful works, then you should book your tickets to see Workshops’s production of CATS. The show runs through March 23rd at Cottingham Theatre on the campus of Columbia College. You may buy tickets at www.workshoptheatreofsc.com. Also, don’t forget that the theatre is taking donations for animal shelters, so be sure to bring some treats, litter, or toys with you.

REVIEW: A New Brain at Workshop Theatre

William Finn’s 1998 Off-Broadway musical, A New Brain, paints an autobiographical portrait of a struggling writer who, while attempting to pen two children’s show songs, suffers a rupture of the arteriovenous malformation in his brain. Upon realization he needs a life-threatening craniotomy, he has to reckon with what he has yet to accomplish as musician, son, and lover.

Workshop Theatre’s production relies on a cast rife with Workshop veterans, and even those new to Workshop are not new to the stage. This stands out in the production, and each cast member brings a take on their character that feels real and lived in. Jocelyn Sanders makes good decisions as director, and though there are places where the play falters, it overall shines. 

In terms of elements that don’t work as well, let’s get the major one out of the way: the screens are weird. The set design itself, led by Patrick Faulds, is bare but works for the small stage. The stage is set with two Plexiglas walls with a major object or two (like a hospital bed) that shifts in the foreground. Two small screens on either side of the stage are used to flesh out the background, and they are certainly unique and at times fun, but they are ultimately awkward and distracting. They are a bit too small to really serve as a backdrop and seemed confused in purpose. At times they display what would be in the background of the scene, like Gordon’s messy apartment; however, there are moments where they show elements already on stage. For instance, the hospital room screen shows an empty bed even though there is already one stage, or when Mr. Bungee – the frog – is on stage, there is also a cartoon frog on the screen. Additionally, one of the two screens unfortunately failed about 30 minutes into the show, showing an error sign, which was eventually turned off and had to be fixed during intermission. Of course, technical errors happen all the time, but it seemed like an avoidable issue when, with the intimate stage, strong props, and solid blocking, the set design works just fine on its own. 

The other background elements work well. At times, the stage feels crowded, but this claustrophobia works with the tone of the musical. There were a few moments of stillness, but for the most part, Saunders’ direction and Crystal Aldamuy’s choreography works at ensuring there’s movement across the stage. Further, the lighting, also led by Faulds, keeps the stage and characters consistently well-lit. The live band is fantastic, and the sound—managed by Dean McCaughan—is overall good. The balance of the live music and the singing is great; however, when many people are singing at once in background, the central solo can be hard to understand. In terms of costuming, Andie Nicks picks outfits that all seem appropriate to the respective characters. A highlight is Mr. Bungee, whose green suit, multicolored vest, and frog head fit the character perfectly. A weak point is the Homeless Lady’s clothes that, while good in general styling, are far too pristine for a homeless woman: unwrinkled and unstained.

 When this show shines, though, it really shines, and the highlight of this show is, without a doubt, the singing. The production had a vocal coach (Lou Boeschen), and it shows. Nearly all notes are hit (with a few occasional weak soprano notes), most of the actors’ notes are consistently supported, and the harmonies are fantastic. Similarly, the acting is good, though not as stellar as the vocals. The actors are overall better singular versus together, with chemistry being a weaker point. This being said, each actor brings a special take to their relative character that makes each one a joy to watch on stage. 

Taylor Diveley as Gordon is great as main character—strong on vocals with good comedic timing. He often uses micro expressions that shine among Gordon’s typically flat affect, and he does a good job of building his expressions as the character grows over the production. The mom, Mimi (Kathy Seppamaki), and the best friend, Rhoda (Grace Farley), were good, but they didn’t stand out until their scenes in Gordon’s coma dream. The mom lacked some variation in emotion earlier in the show, but her tone of gentle acceptance in her final solo brought heart. Farley as Rhoda was fantastic in the puppet scene, showing prowess in facial expression, vocals, and body language—a definite show highlight.  

The nurses helped flesh out the humor and added variation. Heather Hinson, who plays the “thin nurse” (as well as the waitress and an assistant to Mr. Bungee) has great body language and is fun to watch on stage. Adai’shun Cook, who plays the “nice nurse,” is genuinely hilarious and really plays with his voice as instrument—though sometimes he can be a bit hard to understand. Gordon’s boyfriend, Roger (Craig Allen), serves as a nice foil to Gordon, and Allen does a good job at embodying the character—particularly during the “Sailing” scene—but the audience may end up wishing for a stronger connection between the couple. Pat Gagliano as the doctor and Mr. Bungee is solid at the former but really shines at the latter, with a sardonically honest take on the character that really works well. The Minister’s (Samuel Eli McWhite) presence feels very neutral on set, but his vocal prowess is evident.

The standout in the cast, however, is Sheldon Paschal as Lisa the Homeless Lady. Her facial expressions are fantastic, and she really knows how to play the crowd. She is in control of her body and her voice, and both her scenes breaking the fourth wall and interacting with characters on stage are strong. Her vocals were wonderfully supported, and she has a great mix with a light vibrato—her solo “Change” won several rounds of applause from the crowd.

Overall, this is a play with heart. Sound, lighting, set design, and blocking may not be standout but are solid—save for the screens. The individual characters feel understood, realized, and nuanced, even if the chemistry could have been worked on. Regardless, patrons are in for a treat in witnessing these vocals. Fans of the production should enjoy this local take, and those unfamiliar with the musical are still likely to find it a fun and worthwhile way to spend 2 hours of their weekend.

REVIEW: A New Realization of a Classic Work -- The Glass Menagerie at Workshop Theatre

Workshop Theatre opened its 56th Season with Tennessee Williams’ The Glass Menagerie on Friday, September 15th at Cottingham Theatre at Columbia College.  As this 78-year-old play is frequently included in high school literature curricula and regularly produced at community and professional theatres around the country, it is likely that many audience members have already had an experience with this play. It continues to relevantly examine escapism, unfulfilled desire, and familial responsibility in an old American South that is in conflict with modernity and advancement. Friday’s audience seemed to enjoy the production, leaning into the intended comedy of scripted moments, while also finding levity in moments that seemed absurd to contemporary audiences. For example: one of the biggest laughs came when a character decided to put a newspaper on top of a rug in order to “catch the drippings” of a candelabra that was being used to combat a blackout. The audience seemed to scream with their laughter: “Somebody call the Fire Marshal! This guy is nuts!”

          A quick recap of the story: The Wingfields live in St. Louis, Missouri. The patriarch has long since abandoned the family, leaving them to fend for themselves. The matriarch, Amanda Wingfield, is an overbearing mother hellbent on refining her modern children and pushing them towards the life she wishes for them. Tom, her son (and the narrator of the play), is the main bread-winner of the family – working a very unsatisfying job at a shoe factory. Amanda is constantly badgering him about pretty much everything. Laura, the daughter, is an incredibly timid young woman who spends most of her time indoors with her phonograph and her animal figurines made of glass (cue title of the play). Amanda obsesses about Laura’s future, and after learning that her daughter’s anxiety has kept her from her typing classes – she insists on Tom finding a gentleman caller for his sister. He says he will, and indeed this former high-school hero, Jim O’Connor, comes to the house for dinner. Go see this production if you are not aware of what happens next. 

          In the first scene of the play, Tom Wingfield, played by Lamont Gleaton, steps onto his “safe place” – the fire escape outside of his home. Here, he tells the audience that what follows is a “memory play,” and that “nothing is real.” Thus, Williams has explicitly told the audience to expect the unexpected, while also freeing a director and production team to dream outside the constraints of slice-of-life realism and engage in the magic, idealism, romanticism and, sometimes, regret that memory can conjure. Workshop’s production, under the direction of Bakari Lebby, intentionally exercised creative freedom with their production rendering a thoughtful dive into the memory-world of the play that truly made this a 21st Century production - with mixed results.

          Workshop’s The Glass Menagerie is performed by an ensemble comprised of Columbia-based actors Lamont Gleaton (Tom Wingfield), Katie Mixon (Amanda Wingfield), Carly Siegel (Laura Wingfield), and Marshall Spann (Jim O’Connor). Contemporary productions of Williams and Arthur Miller plays are being cast more frequently with Actors of Color in the past 20 years here in America – offsetting the decades long practice of casting only white actors to portray the families that these playwrights created. The multiracial casting of Workshop’s Menagerie invites the audience to engage in a different kind of discomfort when witnessing Amanda Wingfield’s talon-tight grip on the old Southern way of life. When insisting she clean the table after a meal in Scene II, Amanda uses a racial epithet to describe her domestic services to the family – something that creates a unique tension on stage and in the audience as a white mother says this to her non-white children. The casting also begs more questioning of Amanda’s southern-fried prejudices within the context of her relationship to her now-absent husband. These questions provide good fodder for post-show conversation, but do not overshadow the author’s original intent during the performance – which focuses more on universal and poetic themes.

          As Tom Wingfield, Lamont Gleaton was taxed with a large order to play an iconic character from the American canon. Having wowed audiences this time last year with his portrayal of Lola in Workshop’s Kinky Boots, this seems to be Gleaton’s first foray into non-musical theatre. He shines in scenes with other actors – letting his cool-heeled naturalism serve the play throughout. He particularly brought control to a scene where he returns home drunk from “going to the movies” – realistically exhibiting a man on a bender who is returning home to live a lie.  Gleaton does seem to struggle with inviting the audience into the poetic monologues that connect the scenes all evening. Gleaton might gain more command as the production continues if he realizes that this story is Tom’s to tell.

          Katie Mixon in the role of Amanda Wingfield was an audience favorite – she confidently commanded the stage as her character created most of the conflict in the play. Her portrayal was theatrical, outrageously comedic – and the audience rewarded it with laughter. However, this choice makes it seem that Amanda is not only in a different world in her head – it feels as if she is in a different play. Gone is the brutality and seething criticism that the character garners on the page, leaving the stakes low for Tom’s need for exodus and freedom, and completely eradicating the possible indications that Amanda’s narcissistic abuse exacerbates her daughter’s severe insecurity and anxiety. Still, when Mixon took her final bow – she was met with audience members who were inclined to stand to show their appreciation.

          As Laura Wingfield, Carly Siegel was one of the strongest performers in the production. Siegel emphasizes the affliction of Laura’s anxiety disorder – a condition that, as we understand it today, can be a crippling disability. Though the character is traditionally portrayed with a limp or costumed to wear a leg-brace, this Laura does not. In 2023, we can totally acquiesce to the concept that this character’s timidness and fragility (a trait she sees in her glass figurines) is a product of her own anxiety which is made more severe through her mother’s scrutiny. Seigel beautifully executed the moment in the play when her “gentleman caller” accidentally causes the destruction of one of her beloved glass animals. She grows in the moment right in front of the audience – controlling her response and avoiding a sure panic attack.

          Marshall Spann was a solid choice for the prized gentleman caller, Jim O’Connor, who finally enters the play in Act II. His charming portrayal of the character makes him a magnetic interest for Laura, while also welcoming allure from Amanda (and possibly Tom?). The scene in Act II in which Spann and Siegel are left alone on stage is very rewarding, with both actors creating a welcome tension between the possibilities of the future and their ultimate hopelessness.

          Director Bakari Lebby and the design team present a very thoughtful concept of this memory play – accepting Williams’ scripted invitation to be inventive in creating the world on stage. A painted portrait of the absent father changes over the course of the play, with each following iteration becoming more and more abstract. The Wingfield home is a foundational structure that is faced with reflective material – making the set a literal glass enclosure from which the characters cannot escape. The sound design proffers a delightful mix of period-appropriate jazz that is peppered with contemporary music – drawing modern connections to the story and giving the audience permission to see how moments in the story could feel like “here and now.” Most notably, the media used in the show is instrumental in this production’s presentation of memory. Film clips that were filmed and edited specifically for this production were featured throughout the performance, giving the audience glimpses into the minds of these characters. These inventive and well-produced clips were shown on two TV’s nestled in the on-stage structure.

          Ultimately these production design elements put a unique stamp on Workshop’s production of The Glass Menagerie. One can feel that these elements were intended for a larger presentation. Perhaps more specific lighting and projection mapping on the set could have elevated these elements to a more effective level for the audience. In the end, this production seems like a laboratory or workshop for a future production. Whether it was lack of resources or technical capabilities, this production suffers from a grander vision not being realized. This production should be seen and supported, because there is quite a bit of thought and inventiveness that went into it. The stylized concepts, though they could have been pushed much farther, do present Columbia with a new realization of this classic work. Tennessee Williams continues to prove that he was a skilled auditor of the human condition, and we can still see ourselves in these characters. The Glass Menagerie runs through September 24th at Cottingham Theatre at Columbia College, and you may book tickets at workshoptheatreofsc.com.

REVIEW: Chad Henderson's HUNDRED DAYS at Workshop Theatre

This is a show for those who love live music. Even if you don’t typically like musicals this is a show for you. Honestly if you have ears and a heart this is the show for you. I’m only partially kidding, but I have a hard time imagining anyone not enjoying themselves. Hundred Days feels like a concert, but better, and tells the real-life love story of Abigail and Shaun Bengson through songs they wrote as a family band. I won’t go into details, but their love story, like most, is not easy. This musical memoir illustrates well what happens when past trauma and anxiety go head-to-head with true love. 

Director Chad Henderson consistently delivers great theatrical productions to Columbia, and this was no exception. He has pulled together an excellent cast of local musician-actors, and it was obvious he had been thinking about producing this show for years. Well-known local actress and musician, Katie Leitner, was the perfect choice for lead, Abigail Bengson, and probably one of the few actors in Columbia with the vocal chops to play her. Katie along with the band elevate Abigail’s songs and put a polish on them that make them sound more modern than the original cast recordings. Her incredible voice and magnetism on stage draws you in so much so that this could have easily become the Leitner show. Thankfully, Henderson balanced the show well and cast co-star, Taylor Diveley, to play Shaun Bengson. Diveley held his own next to Leitner with equally exceptional vocal ability and a number of endearing qualities.  

Making up the rest of the family band we have singer and cellist Catherine Hunsinger, front-woman for local band Rex Darling, and multidisciplinary director and performer, Bakari Lebby, on bass. Both have speaking roles throughout the show, providing levity where needed, and sing harmony on the majority of songs. At times, the harmonies in these songs were overwhelmingly good – chill inducing and magical. USC professor, musician and musical director for the show, Tom Beard, sings, speaks, and plays accordion as well as synthesizer throughout the show. Drummer and vocalist, Patty Boggs, rounds out the band with near perfect dynamics. Both are stellar musicians and great in their roles.  

Musically the songs in this production run the gamut from Indie folk to electronica with several more traditional musical numbers sprinkled in. Be warned you will leave with songs from the show stuck in your head.  

The hour and a half performance kept the audience’s attention the whole time, and in the age of TikTok with our ever-shortening attention spans this is an impressive feat. Patrick Faulds the lighting and set designer did an impressive job of making the stage feel like a music venue, while also keeping it interesting. There were constantly little things I noticed on stage throughout the show, and like any good modern concert, video was a big part of the performance. Screens on the stage complemented each song and reinforced major themes throughout the show.  

100 Days runs through May 27th and is definitely worth the ticket price and your time. It is moving, fresh, and thoroughly entertaining. Learn more about the show at Workshop Theatre’s website.

Workshop Theatre Premieres Contemporary Musical Memoir Hundred Days Directed by Chad Henderson

“It's Columbia. We are better served by seeing something for the first time rather than a variation on what we've seen before. We've all seen that. We need new, we deserve it. We deserve the newest things now.”

- Chad Henderson

Hundred Days is a musical memoir based on a true story that premiered for the first time in 2018. This fresh, contemporary take on the goal of loving and living fully is coming tomorrow to Workshop Theatre. Running from May 12 – May 27, the show is directed by Chad Henderson with music direction by Tom Beard and a cast that features Katie Leitner, Catherine Hunsinger, Taylor Diveley, Kari Lebby, and Patty Boggs. 

The show has been described as “luminous,” “exhilarating,” and “raw,” and Leitner herself asserts that “people can expect to be immersed in a multi-media, emotionally gut-wrenching story accompanied by powerful folk- blues ballads, dense and haunting harmonies, uplifting folk pop toe-tappers, and clap-along rock tunes.” 

Jasper sat down one-on-one with director Henderson to get more details on the show.

JASPER: How did you decide to direct this show? 

HENDERSON: This show has been a three-year journey for me. My friend and collaborator Jonathan Whitton sent me an email about this play with a message that read something like "You need to know about this. You're welcome." He was right. It is entirely the type of work I seek and savor. I kept my eyes on the licensing for the show, because in this market you are at the whims of the licensing companies. This was all before the closures of the pandemic. Fast-forward some time later, and Workshop Theatre took my submission seriously. They were willing to produce a "little musical that would be one of the hardest things to achieve." I'm so glad that Jeni McCaughan and the script selection committee committed to this production—they have been absolutely amazing to work with.

JASPER: What makes you excited about this musical, specifically? 

HENDERSON: Honestly, this is the kind of work that I gravitate towards, having spent four years in a rock band and being a lover of live music. I have directed theatrical works like "Hedwig and the Angry Inch," "Spring Awakening," "Passing Strange" and "American Idiot." These all have a special place in my heart because they closely align with my personal aesthetic and have an impactful connection to the type of storytelling that moves me as an artist.

JASPER: Why this story here? Why now? 

HENDERSON: It's Columbia. We are better served by seeing something for the first time rather than a variation on what we've seen before. We've all seen that. We need new, we deserve it. We deserve the newest things now. Also, love is timeless—and that is still (somehow) a revolutionary thing to explore presently.

JASPER: How long have y’all been working on this?

HENDERSON: I've been working on this for three years now in my mind. I've been dreaming of a local cast for that long as well. I'm very lucky that two of the original people I dreamed of are working on this production (Katie Leitner and Catherine Hunsinger). Even luckier to have one of my favorite collaborators, Tom Beard, reach out to me to ask, "what are we doing next." Then after a string of auditions and conversations we found the remaining alchemy that this production needed: Taylor Diveley, Kari Lebby and Patty Boggs.

JASPER: Have there been any unique challenges in this show? 

HENDERSON: Once the casting was complete, the challenge fell to the actors. They have to be a band. They have to create that synergy. They also have to be open to the unknown due to the fact that the show is a live set from a band, and the story that arises from their performance must be a sneak attack.

JASPER: What’s special about your rendition? 

HENDERSON: I'm me and this is me doing what I love to do: make it as hard as possible for everyone. So, while the cast is rehearsing tirelessly to become a band with 90 minutes of music and banter to memorize—while also being able to live truthfully in the moment—we have added a film element to the production. We spent three weekends filming auxiliary storytelling that is presented through on-stage media.

JASPER: Have there been any exciting “oh my god this is it” moments? 

HENDERSON: I've had many "Oh My God" moments. They've happened at every rehearsal, which is a testament to this cast. Damn, they're good!

JASPER: The music in this show is described as “anthemic folk-punk music” — what can a not music-savvy person expect?  

HENDERSON: If you have heard the works of Mumford and Sons, Ani DiFranco, Frou Frou, Queen, Jump Little Children, Son Volt, or anything else that sounds totally relatable but also entirely singular—that's what it sounds like. The music lifts your heart because the compositions have that effect. It's also very Americana. There's no banjo or mandolin, but plenty of cello and accordion. It also doesn't sound French. I don't know...the music is singular. It's the Bengsons [group who originally created and performed the show]. Just come hear for yourself or get a taste on Spotify or Apple Music.

JASPER: How would you summarize this story in your own words? 

HENDERSON: It's about love (cue memories of Christian in Moulin Rouge). It's about the rewards, challenges, magnetisms, insanities, and fears of love. It's about the weight of commitment: the work that comes with it, but ultimately the joys.

JASPER: Why should people see this show?  

HENDERSON: Simply put: It's one of the few contemporary shows you can experience in the coming months. To call it a musical is misleading. You're coming to see a band. A very good band. It just so happens they are going to make you relate to their crazy story in 90 mins flat. Also, the bar is open throughout the show because...that's just civil, isn't it? It's a show and space where you'll be comfortable, and you'll leave with plenty to talk about. You might even kiss somebody (if they consent).

It’s hard to describe what to expect, but in attending Hundred Days, you are guaranteed a once-in-a-lifetime story. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll groove. For more details about and to get tickets, visit Workshop Theatre’s website.

REVIEW: A Chorus Line at Workshop Theatre

"I’d be proud to be one of them. They’re wonderful. They’re all special. I’d be happy to be dancing in that line.” — Cassie, A Chorus Line

The 1975 musical A Chorus Line has been a beloved musical since it opened on Broadway nearly 40 years ago, and last week, it opened at Workshop Theatre. Directed by Hans Boeschen, the musical brings together over 20 local actors as it delivers the familiar plot: a tense fight for individuality veiled behind humor, sweat, and tights. 

These personalities are stepped into well, for the most part, by the cast. The humor is certainly the part best received. Craig Allen and Adai’shun Cook, as Bobby and Richie respectively, are fabulous at using body language to command the stage and complement the jokes in their dialogue. Gracen Cabiness, who plays Kristine, is fantastic at facial humor, pulling out many a laugh from the audience in her rendition of “Sing.”

When it comes to embodying the almost character actor element of this play, the cast shines, but they do struggle at times in the nuance of the performances. Shelia and Val, for example—portrayed by Reign Capers and Tajiana Nechelle—are great in stepping into the shoes of confident vixens who know what they want and aren’t afraid to take it. However, when there are moments for these women to be vulnerable and for doubt to creep in, the performances don’t seem fully taken advantage of.  

Though at its heart A Chorus Line is a musical about potentially losing ourselves in our journey to be seen, it’s a show outwardly focused on singing and dancing—two things this production did decently but not exceedingly well. 

This cast only includes a few professional dancers, and choreographer Erin Bailey certainly did a fair job creating dance moves where every person could produce the moves and still look identical. Sometimes, however, the moves were a bit awkward, even in solo scenes that felt like a time to show off. For example, Cassie’s solo is meant to highlight her acting and dancing chops—and Katherine Brown, who portrays her, has a professional background in dancing—so it would have been nice to see some more striking, powerful movement. 

That being said, Katherine Brown was a standout in the show. Cassie demands an aesthetic and energy that is set apart from the other dancers, and Brown brings this to the role. The speech in which she reveals why she has returned to the chorus line felt genuine, and her vocal performance, though not transcendent, was one of my favorites—along with Gaby Walker’s solos as Diana.  

All-in-all, there were pockets of highlights in the show where someone’s voice hit just the right pitch and tone or there was a dance move that caused you to hold your breath, like Katie Page’s brief tap dance routine as Mikah during “I Can Do That.” However, looking the show as a whole, there were several hiccups with the song and dance that was exacerbated by issues with sound. The mics produced feedback at several times during the performance, and the music was a bit too loud and partially muffled the actors’ singing/talking. The visuals, though, worked well, with the traditional mirrored dance room backdrop and scattered gym bags defining the space (set by Patrick Faulds).  

Further, the costume design, led by Andie Nicks, was deft, showcasing pieces that well reflected the individual character’s personas while also looking like what one simply would naturally wear to practice dance, which made the performance as a whole feel modern and real from the start—and which gave the final change into matching uniforms the punch the closing scene requires. 

The one thing this performance certainly has going for it is heart. It was funny, and it was passionate. Being there as a patron was a joy, simply to exist in the audience where fellow audience members laughed out loud and ended the performance with loud claps and screams of joy and support. They made it clear Workshop is doing something right. 

Overall, if you want to support the arts and local talent, it’s worth the drive to Cottingham Theatre at Columbia College to see it. Even though it is not a flawless production, it is passionate and real and showcases a group of people whose individuality deserves to be recognized.

REVIEW: Torch Song at Workshop Theatre

Torch Song began its evolution as three one-act plays, the first of which, International Stud,  opened off-off-Broadway way back in 1978. It was followed by Fugue in a Nursery the next year and finished with Widows and Children First. The three were combined into Torch Song Trilogy which made its Broadway debut in 1982. Harvey Fierstein’s groundbreaking piece took home the Tony for Best Play in 1983.  In his acceptance speech, Producer John Glines openly acknowledged his lover and the show’s co-producer, Lawrence Lane. This, kiddoes, had never been done before.  

Join me and Mr. Peabody in the Wayback Machine. (IYKYK)  It’s the late 70’s and early 80’s. AIDS has just started to ravage the gay community, aided and abetted by the nonchalance of the straight community. (Thanks, Ron & Nancy. I digress.) We’re just over a decade past Stonewall. In this environment Harvey Fierstein spins the (largely autobiographical) story of one Arnold Beckoff. He addresses issues such as gay marriage and adoption, which were unheard of 40 years ago.  Look how far we’ve come…(hold that thought) 

In Workshop Theatre’s production, Arnold is played lovingly and endearingly by Julian Deleon.  The show opens with Arnold in his dressing room at International Stud, transforming himself into Virginia Ham. (Pay attention to the list of drag names with which he peppers his opening monologue. You. Will. Love.)  Deleon’s delivery of this exercise in self-analysis is fast and furious and funny, and absolutely spot-on. It would be so easy to turn Arnold into a caricature. This piece was, after all, written by and originally starring Harvie Fierstein. DeLeon never steps over that line.  His Arnold is maddening, infuriatingly needy, manic, frustrating, and utterly and completely loveable and heartbreaking.  

Arnold meets one Ed Reiss up in da clurb. Ed is a charming fellow, a school teacher who must be circumspect in all things, as we are not yet a “woke” world. Arnold falls head over heels in love with Ed, because of course he would. Because a Torch Song by definition cannot have a happy ending.  

Ed is set up on a blind date with the lovely and hapless Laurel and falls head over heels into the easy out, which is to marry the straight girl of his parents’ dreams. Ed and Arnold remain “friends.” At Laurel’s invitation, Arnold visits the lovebirds at their farm in upstate New York and brings along his new love, Alan. Interesting conversations ensue.  

Enter Mother. Dear, strict, conventional, conservative Jewish Mother. Hurtful, passive-aggressive, put upon Mother. Debra Haines Kiser plays this role with such conviction and passion. When she makes one jab too many and Arnold can take no more…. I thought I’d accidentally wandered into George and Martha’s study. Kiser and Deleon work beautifully off each other. Their scenes snap, one line on top of another, until we are all exhausted.   

Crouch has assembled a good, solid cast. Brady Davis plays David, Arnold’s soon-to-be-adopted son. His David is such a 15-year-old gay boy – sassy, bitchy, rebellious, outspoken, and very loving. (Can we do something about poor David’s suit? He’s about to be adopted by a drag queen with mad sewing skills. Arnold would not have allowed him to leave the house in a suit two sizes too big.)   

I wish Marshall Spann’s Ed had been more… energetic? Ed is supposedly so charming that both gay men and straight women cannot resist him. I wanted to see more of that charm.  

Beth DeHart’s Laurel is enigmatic. She vows to have fallen in love with Ed and has come to terms with his bisexuality, but has she?  Arnold and Alan visit the farm on her invitation, not Ed’s. To what purpose? Is she proving herself to herself? Is she testing Ed’s dedication to being straight? Is she deliberately taunting Arnold? There is no incorrect answer.  

Taylor Diveley creates a perfectly adorable Alan with whom Arnold cannot help but fall in love.  He’s a smart, gorgeous cocker spaniel puppy. You want them to be together forever and ever and ever. (This is a Torch Song) 

Set, costumes, and music come together nicely.  (Please make a mix-tape of the show’s music and sell it in the lobby). I tried to figure out a way to sneak the kitchen table and chairs out of Arnold’s Act 3 apartment but wasn’t able to make it work.  

I shall now pick a nit. Please. Please. Please. When food and drink are mentioned in a script, have food and drink onstage.  It isn’t that difficult to whip up a pot of instant mashed potatoes to put on plates and have water/tea/coffee in a pitcher or kettle to pour into cups. After all  the tremendous care and effort put into a production, it’s annoying to see actors trying to block the fact that they are serving imaginary food.  

Fierstein has written, and Jerry Crouch has lovingly directed a show about what we all ultimately want - to be loved and respected for who we are.   

Torch Song runs through January 29.

Jasper Reviews Workshop Theatre’s Production of Death of a Salesman

Nearly 75 years after its original premiere, what many consider to be the defining play of modernism comes anew to Columbia. While he may not be Willy Loman, Patrick Michael Kelly (Director) certainly seeks to make his intangible tangible as he brings Arthur Miller’s Death of a Salesman to a 2022 Columbia, South Carolina, audience.

It's surely nearly impossible to predict the audience for this particular production of Miller’s 1949 work—in this city you could draw anyone from curious supporters unfamiliar with the play to longtime lovers and scholars who have chased it to Broadway and published work on it. What’s pervasive though is the tale itself and what it says about the America we live in. 

As Kelly asserted in our show preview, his goal was to tap into this relatability of the play through the act of  “decoloniz[ing] and deconstruct[ing]” it, which he did through diverse casting and a simple, shifting stage. The casting of the actor that performs best versus the one who may be expected is always refreshing—and this cast certainly is incredible. The stage design highlights this cast, with the small stage (designed by Patrick Faulds) being used smartly, its minimalism emphasizing the failure of the house—an image so important to the story—with rooms feeling collapsed and seemingly every space and place in the play existing on top of itself. At the same time, some added claustrophobia to the apartment or some more emphasis on the monolith that is New York City could have added to the character of the piece, and some set choices, like the decision to use a briefcase in lieu of a headstone in the closing scene, feel a bit on the nose.

Right on the money are the costumes, led by Andie Nicks, which fit the period while also having a somewhat timeless quality. All-in-all, though, they are understated and wisely don’t overwhelm the characters. Characters and outfits alike were clear in the lighting (also led by Faulds), which was consistent throughout the show, with the occasional flourish, though some variation in the opening scene would have been apt; for instance, going lights down on the bedroom with inactive parties and lights up on the bedroom with active dialogue could have added dimension.   

Fortunately, character dimension is not something this production is lacking. Deon Turner and Jon Whit play convincing brothers as they step into the shoes of Biff and Happy, respectively. Potentially recognized by Columbia audiences as recent lead and supporting actors in Trustus’ True Crime Rep, Turner and Whit bring heart and passion into the Loman sons. Turner, specifically, aptly embodies the bubbling rage threatening to spill over on his father at any given moment.

Libby Campbell is a tour-de-force as Linda, not surprising giving her varied, lengthy background as a performer in the city. She is gentle and firm, protective of her husband to a fault, but still very much her own person. Campbell has a distinct control and mastery of her facial expressions that are both easily readable and consistently poignant. And stepping into the shoes of Willy Loman himself is Paul Kaufmann, another Columbia acting veteran who convincingly throws himself into the desperation of a man losing every ounce of hope and possibility he once saw in the world. Kaufmann plays Loman loud but delicately; he has a presence on stage that is electric though not exactly nameable—he’s one of those figures you can’t really look away from, which is perfect for portraying the failing salesman.

Rounding out the cast is a delight of supporting characters, who each hold their own in a script of individually perceived larger-than-life figures. Jeff Smith plays an almost mythical Uncle Ben; Ripley Thames and Jonathan Yi excel as the neighboring father-son duo; and Roderick Haynes Jr., Emily Meadows, and Caroline McGee succeed at making individual their multiple characters each.

The four main cast members play well off of each other, feeling very much like a family, though one in which there is disconnect. This disconnect, for the most part, does feel intentional, as this is a story about people who just can’t see each other regardless of how hard they try. What the audience is left longing for, though, is added nuance in the performances. Whether a result of directorial decisions or simply logistics of performing without mics, there isn’t much variation in the level/tenor of speaking. Sure, during the arguments and climactic moments the yelling is quite distinct—and quite good—but there’s a certain consistent bravado to everyone’s performances that doesn’t quite seem earned.

This is a play about four people who are constantly struggling to know who they are, who are building themselves from foundations that were never stable, and over the course of only a day (about 2.5 hours sans intermission in real time), slowly hurtle (oxymoron intended) towards the reckoning of their foundational façades. This movement asks for a similar movement in the performances, which is not always present. Happy, for instance, is a little too, well, happy. Happy Loman is an ironic figure because he is so desperate to please that he doesn’t even realize how inherently unhappy he is, which is pervasive throughout the script, but only comes out in glimpses in the production. More quiet movements and comfort with silence and pauses in all the Lomans may have created a more apt tone. In fact, there are few plays where the tone is as important as this one.

And, ultimately, even amidst the strong acting, the tone is where the play falls short. There appears a desire in this production to make the play humorous—not to make it a comedy, but to lean into potential comedic moments and emphasize tone and brief beats as if to elicit and expect laughter. Willy’s comments on arresting those who cut down his trees or his anger at Charley for playing a card that he thinks is his aren’t meant to be funny. Of course, this is completely up to the director to interpret; however, it’s disconcerting hearing the audience laughing along when you know what’s to come, and although this isn’t inherently problematic, the humor minimizes the bone-chilling persistent longing and desperation throughout the script. These moments feel in conflict even with elements of the production itself, like the sound design, also led by Kelly, which keenly upholds the eerie nature of the script.

Perhaps the director and cast wanted new audiences who enjoy various genres to have multiple avenues of entry into the story. Perhaps the goal was to highlight the humor to make even starker the dark moments. However, this is a play about a man who has given all of himself away for a dream that never existed, a reality that never was or will be. He has projected it onto his wife and his children, created a rot that seeped into the house and that this family may never be fully free from—mortgage paid or not. This play ends with Willy Loman’s final attempt to make his way ‘into the jungle,’ to make tangible its distant diamonds by giving away the only thing he ever really had a stake in: his own life. The script knows this. The family knows this. This rooted rot has not just now begun to seep. Every word spoken by a member of this household is speaking with the pervasive, inherent knowledge that disillusion can no longer be staved off—regardless of to what degree they explicitly recognize it. The continued distractions of this through making light of certain lines of dialogue or interactions may make the play appear dynamic on the surface but, in the end, misses the mark. Even whipped cheese and bad flirting cannot cut through the tendrils wrapped thick around this family, which makes these decisions feel out of place.

The attempts to bring this story into 2022 are best done through the moments that stay the truest to the script itself. Willy and Biff’s climactic shouting and crying match strikes right to the heart of the audience. Happy’s assertion that he will be able to avenge his father’s death fills the viewer with dread and unease. And Linda’s echoing, closing “we’re free” only convinces the audience that they certainly are not. In these moments, the production shines—it’s effervescent.

The fact of the matter is, though Death of a Salesman may be a relic of its time, it is simultaneously timeless. It doesn’t need tonal flourishes to bring it into an era it is still so reflective of. We all already are the “dime-a-dozen” Willy Lomans whose only potential way forward is to accept who we are—and even in that there is no promise. There is nothing bigger than that. There doesn’t need to be.

Miller’s play has and continues to speak for itself, and Kelly’s production at times aptly emphasizes this, and at times undermines it. The strength of its actors is sure to strike pride in Columbia audiences, and it’s a feat that, even with its occasional moments asking for more nuance, locals should not miss out on. For those new to the play, it is likely to be an experience rife with passion that fills viewers with a spectrum of emotions. For Death of a Salesman lovers, however, the heart of Miller’s script, though there, remains, in part, intangible.

PREVIEW: DEATH OF A SALESMAN AT WORKSHOP THEATRE BY JON TUTTLE

The grinding wheel of American capitalism has become a Catherine Wheel: if you’re not helping to turn it, you’ll get lashed to it. This is what Miller called, in his eponymous essay, the tragedy of the common man: “the disaster inherent in being torn away from our chosen image of what and who we are in this world. Among us today this fear is strong, and perhaps stronger, than it ever was.”

The watershed moment for American drama occurred at about 10:30pm on January 22, 1949, at the Locust Street Theatre in downtown Philadelphia. It consisted of a stunned silence.  

Arthur Miller’s Death of a Salesman had been in rehearsals for several weeks but came to Philadelphia for a tryout before opening at the Morosco on Broadway. It would go on to win the Pulitzer Prize and Tony Award for Best play, as well as a raft of other awards, and would be remounted on Broadway five times—including right now at the Hudson Theatre, with an all- African-American cast. There is no official count of such things, but it is surely one of the most-produced plays in history. At any rate, it ranks at or near the top of lists—such as a recent one by the Denver Post—of the most important American plays.  

But when the when the curtain came down on the first public performance of The Great American Play, there was no applause, no response at all. In his autobiography, Timebends, Miller recalls the strange moment: “Strange things began to go on in the audience. With the curtain down, some people stood to put their coats on and then sat down again; some, especially men, were bent forward, covering their faces, and others were openly weeping. People crossed the theatre to stand quietly, talking with one another. It seemed forever before someone remembered to applaud, and then there was no end to it. I was standing at the back and saw a distinguished-looking elderly man being led up the aisle; he was talking excitedly into the ear of what seemed to be his male secretary or assistant. This, I learned, was Bernard Gimbel, head of the department store chain, who that night gave an order that no one in his stores was to be fired for being overage.”

Salesman tells the story, of course, of Willy Loman, the disposable American Everyman who measures his worth only in dollars, and of his wife, Linda, whose every encouragement hastens his suicide. His sons, Biff and Hap, represent the competing halves of his personality and of the American psyche—one a rugged outdoorsman still invested in pre-Depression ideals of hard work and camaraderie, the other a wannabe cut-throat executive who equates price with value. Reunited for twenty-four hours, the Lomans can no longer live together under the same roof. By the end of the play, the family home—the artifact upon which the American mythos is based--is paid for—but empty.

We are living in the fallout from unchecked capitalism and patriarchy - burnout, classism, exploitation, income and wealth inequality, housing shortages, climate crises. We are poorer now than our parents were at our age, and without significant and sustained changes to our system, the future looks more uncertain than ever. Social media has turned many of us into salespeople, selling the version of our lives that we want others to see, angling for as many likes as we can get to increase our self-worth, believing as Willy does that it's important to be well-liked.” - Patrick Michael Kelly

“Attention, attention must be paid,” says Linda of her hapless husband, and by extension of every well-meaning, faceless citizen failing to fulfill their obligations to the economy, and that’s truer now than it was in 1949. The grinding wheel of American capitalism has become a Catherine Wheel: if you’re not helping to turn it, you’ll get lashed to it. This is what Miller called, in his eponymous essay, the tragedy of the common man: “the disaster inherent in being torn away from our chosen image of what and who we are in this world. Among us today this fear is strong, and perhaps stronger, than it ever was.” 

Patrick Michael Kelly, who is directing the Workshop Theatre production opening November 4, concurs. “Salesman speaks to many of the issues we grapple with today,” he says. “Miller sought to deflate the idea of the American Dream - that anyone could achieve anything with hard work and determination. My generation and younger generations believe less and less in that idea, and this play underscores our disillusionment. We are living in the fallout from unchecked capitalism and patriarchy - burnout, classism, exploitation, income and wealth inequality, housing shortages, climate crises. We are poorer now than our parents were at our age, and without significant and sustained changes to our system, the future looks more uncertain than ever. Social media has turned many of us into salespeople, selling the version of our lives that we want others to see, angling for as many likes as we can get to increase our self-worth, believing as Willy does that it's important to be well-liked.”  

Kelly’s production will emphasize, he says, the concept that originally informed the play—the stream of consciousness running through the mind of its protagonist. Miller composed the first act of the play in a single night in his backyard shed in Connecticut—emerging the next morning, he said, aching and exhausted. His working title was The Inside of His Head, and he imagined the setting of the play as an enormous face which would open, like French doors, to reveal the interior of the Loman household. Designer Jo Mielziner prevailed upon Miller to do away with the cranium, but the operative principle that drives the play—that Willy cannot separate his illusions and memories from his realities—remained part of its DNA. It’s that element that Kelly’s production will emphasize. 

“We are highlighting that much of the play takes place in Willy’s mind,” says Kelly, “in his memories, with moveable settings to illustrate the fleeting nature and impermanence of memory and time. Beyond a few period accents, our set largely eschews reality and instead looks to illustrate Willy’s true passion for building things and his desire to get ahead. A skeletal staircase to nowhere is the only permanent fixture - a visual metaphor for his thwarted dreams, which Biff declares in the requiem as being ‘all, all wrong.’” 

What’s different about this production, however, is that Kelly is seeking to “decolonize and deconstruct” it as much as possible. The cast is racially diverse because “we want audience members of all backgrounds to see themselves in this story,” and his set is “somewhat Brechtian” in its minimalism and desire to keep the audience asking the right questions. “Salesman is almost entirely devoid of references to race,” Kelly says, and is primarily “focused more on classism. Racism was very much alive in the ‘40s however, so it cannot be ignored, and casting this play with a diverse group of people presents new dynamics and problems that were not originally intended. At the end of the day, I wanted to work with the best actors I could find, and I believe I found them. We’ve got a stellar team.” 

Veteran Columbia professionals Paul Kaufmann and Libby Campbell as Willy and Linda head that team. “I always love working with my longtime friend and colleague Paul Kaufmann,” says Kelly. “Paul is a wonderful artist and will bring his expertise in creating a more sensitive version of Willy Loman, balancing the ferocity of his fears with his sweetness and sentimentality. This play is the third time I’ve had the pleasure of directing him. [And] Libby is Columbia theatre royalty. This is my first time working with her.” 

Kelly notes that Deon Turner (Biff) and Jon Whit McClinton (Happy) are fresh from Trustus Theatre’s True Crime Rep--Jason Stokes Composure and Charlie Finesilver’s House Calls, and that “Jonathan Yi (Bernard) was one of my students last year at the University of South Carolina, and actually played Biff in scene study in that class, so it’s a treat to work with him on this play. Ripley Thames (Charley) is an actor I’ve admired for some time, but never gotten to work with. Same goes for Emily Meadows (Woman/Letta). Caroline McGee is a 2022 UofSC theatre graduate, and Roderick Haynes, Jr. stepped in late in the process and has been a joy. Mostly, it’s just an honor to get to tell this story - it’s one of the greatest American plays for a reason, and it’s a privilege to get to work on it intensely. It’s intimidating, but I love a challenge, and I hope audiences love what we’re creating for them.” 

Likewise, he relishes the opportunity to work once again—in a new venue--with Workshop, for whom he’s performed in Some Girl(s) (2017) and The Little Foxes (2002). This production is the culmination of conversations he’d been having with Jeni McCaughan, Workshop’s executive director, about remounting American classics. “I don’t think we go back to the dramatic classics enough,” he says. “I am a champion of new work. I think fostering new voices and nurturing new plays is the most important work a theatre can undertake, but we can still learn a lot from producing the plays of Arthur Miller, Lorraine Hansberry, Tennessee Williams, and many others.”   

And he is “thrilled” about Workshop’s partnership with Columbia College. “I know it’s going to benefit both organizations in a big way - and I’m excited to direct a show in the historic Cottingham Theatre. It’s a beautiful space and an actor’s dream as far as acoustics are concerned. I’ve never directed in a true proscenium theatre that has wings and fly space before either, so it’s a real treat.” 

Workshop Theatre’s production of Death of a Salesman will run November 4 through 13 at Cottingham Theatre on the campus of Columbia College. Tickets are available here.

REVIEW: Kinky Boots at Workshop Theatre

Originally a smash Broadway hit, Kinky Boots is a musical about two people finding common ground in an unusual way: through shoes. With the book by Harvey Fierstein, Kinky Boots is the story of two seemingly different individuals who discover that they have more similarities than differences. Charlie Price (Taylor Diveley) inherits the family’s shoe factory just as he is attempting to start his life elsewhere. Unfortunately, the factory is bankrupt and may close. A chance encounter with Lola (Lamont Gleaton), a drag queen and cabaret performer, leads to an unconventional solution to save the business.

Jocelyn Sanders has done an admirable job of pulling together a talented cast of performers for a fun evening of theatre. As the leads, Diveley and Gleaton balance each other nicely and then shine beautifully during solo numbers. Gleaton dazzles as the outwardly confident Lola, taking the stage by storm with a larger-than-life persona and performance. At other times, Gleaton easily reaches the introspection necessary to convey the depth of Lola’s sometimes painful journey to true self-understanding. Diveley takes some of the same opportunities, as he energetically leads his factory workers to believe in the dream of success and then anguishes over his own shortcomings.

The supporting characters and cast play beautifully in the background of Charlie and Lola’s story without pulling focus away from those characters’ journey. Evident in their body language, the factory workers are initially tired and demoralized, anxious about what is around the corner. After Lola enters the scene, the factory comes alive with energy. Jessica Roth (Lauren) presents a nicely nuanced performance, a tad daffy when required and thoughtful and kind in other important moments.

Lola’s Angels do exactly what they’re supposed to do. They bring fun and energy to the stage through their marvelous dancing and sassy personalities. Mandy Applegate’s overall choreography is fun and sexy and gives all performers a chance to shine.

The live band is terrific, led by Chrystine McClellan, who is also the Music Director. McClellan has taken a group of varied performers and created not only a lovely ensemble performance but also has led individual performers to shine where their talents lie. The only sound drawback is that at times, it is difficult to hear certain dialogue and portions of songs.

When you first arrive, you find yourself looking at the exterior of Price and Son, the factory which Charlie inherits. During the opening number, the building opens to reveal an aging industrial space in which most of the action takes place. Both the set and light design are by Patrick Faulds, and both beautifully deliver an important underlying aspect of the show. The lighting seamlessly moves with the performers, capturing them as they move to different levels and areas of the stage, which is a credit to the design and designer. As the locations change, Faulds has designed clever movable set pieces, practically moved by cast members in character, adding to the overall success of the design.

The costumes, designed by Andie Nicks, also play a nice supporting role, and then step to the front to take a bow when appropriate. Nicks has chosen a basic monochromatic theme for most of the clothing of the factory workers, leaving it to Lola and the Angels to dazzle the eyes. The varied costumes sported by the Angels bring real life to their personalities, and Lola’s outfits . . . . Well, let’s just say “fabulous” is insufficient.

Kinky Boots runs about two and a half hours, with one fifteen-minute intermission. It runs through October 8 at Cottingham Theatre on the campus of Columbia College.

REVIEW: Workshop Theatre Welcomes Audiences Back with New Work - The Campaign, written and directed by Crystal Aldamuy

In Shakespeare’s day, Elizabethans went not to see a play, but rather to ‘hear’ a play.  If the mark of a listenable story is its strength of dialogue, Crystal Aldamuy has the gift of gab. She puts words into her characters’ mouths that make us feel as though we are eavesdropping through a tenement wall. This is more than evident in her latest feat of derring do, a two-act relationship drama called The Campaign produced by Workshop Theatre. Not only does Aldamuy exhibit an acumen for how people talk, but she also proves a competent craftsperson in the construction of plot.

The Campaign tells the story of Kyle McMillian, an ambitious thirty-something who embarks on entering a local city council race, and his life with his flamboyant partner, Seth Williams. The two young men grapple with the universal vagaries of keeping their love alive while cohabitating in somewhat claustrophobic quarters. Their relationship is further challenged by Kyle’s meddling mom, Naomi, whose raison d’etre appears early on to be shopping for her son and picking out just the right sofa pillows.  

At the outset, Kyle and Seth present as a familiar trope of ‘gay odd couple.’ Kyle’s reticence is juxtaposed by Seth’s inability to keep anything to himself. When the moment arrives for Kyle to announce that he has thrown his hat in the ring to be a local politician, Seth has become disillusioned by the reality of their relationship. Seth now must compete for Kyle’s attention and must ‘campaign’ for his true loyalty. This conflict reaches a fever pitch when a man named Timothy enters the picture later in the game.   

Aldamuy’s two main characters’ wants and drives become clearer as the play progresses. Though the inclusion of Kyle’s mother, Naomi, appears first as a single-dimensional plot device, her development of personae is enriched by a touching scene wherein she connects for the first time with Seth at the kitchen table. No spoilers here, though.

Josh Kern as the earnest Kyle McMillion, son of the apparently legendary politician, Walter McMillion, is excellent. He moves throughout the play with ease, giving us a protagonist who desires far more than simply being a domestic AC repairman.

Julian Deleon sparkles with quick one-liners and hilarious mood swings. Deleon may well be the audience favorite as he maintains a type-A drama queen personality who is culinarily challenged and suffers panic attacks during failed attempts at assembling Ikea shelves.

Tiffany Dinsmore is delightful as Naomi McMillion, a mother who strives to insert herself into her son’s life and relationship with the best of intentions. Dinsmore is believable and never over-plays her hand in a role that could so easily have become a caricature.

As a playwright, Aldamuy delivers and gives us some firm bones.  

Missing, however, are clear and smooth transitions between scenes that could better convey the passage of time. These moments, when actors enter and exit depositing and retrieving props in half-light, were confusing.

Act One seemed to take a while before any significant conflict gave its characters the impetus for action. It might also have been technically stronger had Aldamuy directed Josh Kern to vocally project more as he was difficult to hear at times, keeping us on the edge of our seats for the wrong reasons. This took nothing away, however, from Kern’s powerful exchange with Deleon at the end of Act II, two scenes back-to-back that were worth the price of admission alone.

The script struggled to present a narrative that is socially relevant in 2021 with scenes about condoms and AIDS prevention (though certainly still a part of world we live in) giving us tired theatrical territory, once an important innovation in the eighties by dramatists such as Larry Kramer and William Hoffman, but by now a trope with which audiences are overly familiar.

Challenges aside, however, The Campaign is well-worth your time. Workshop Theatre has another winner here with local stalwarts Aldamuy, Kern, Deleon, and Dinsmore at the helm. Remaining performances are few. Do not miss this one!

Fri, Oct 8 8 PM, Sat, Oct 9 8 PM, Sun, Oct 10 3 PM

Tickets at Workshoptheatre.com

 

Christofer Cook is an active member of the Dramatists Guild of America. He holds an MFA, an MA, and a BA. An internationally produced and award-winning playwright, his latest work is “Amityville, 1925” which opens at Theatre Mysterium on October 21st.

PROCESS: Theatre Artist Elena Martinez-Vidal Writes about Auditioning for the Role of Maria Callas in Terrence McNally's MASTER CLASS

Elena Martinez-Vidal as Maria Callas

An important part of the Jasper Project’s mission is to bring the process of creating art to life for our readers. It’s fascinating learning how many hours of work go into creating a ballet or releasing an album. When we look at the various processes of creating art, no matter the discipline, we come to understand and appreciate the final product much more thoroughly.

To that end, we are always excited when artists share their methodology in a way that we can share it with our readers.

Today, theatre artist Elena Martinez-Vidal shares with us her experience of auditioning for the role of Maria Callas in Terrance McNally’s 1995 play, MASTER CLASS.

The premise of MASTER CLASS is that the larger-than-life soprano, Maria Callas, is teaching a masterclass to vocalists in the last years of her life while she also reminisces about her life and career. Callas was born in 1923 and died of a heart attack in 1977 at the age of 53.

Playwright Terrance McNally, often referenced as the Bard of American Theatre, died of COVID-19 in March of 2020. The author of such critically successful plays as Kiss of the Spider Woman, The Full Monty, and Ragtime, was the recipient of five Tony Awards and enjoyed a career that spanned six decades.

-CB

Master Class 

The Audition

By Elena Martinez-Vidal

"Art is domination. It's making people think that for that precise moment in time there is only one way, one voice. Yours." ~ Terrence McNally, Master Class

Every actor either loves or hates auditioning.

au·di·tion: /ôˈdiSH(ə)n-an interview for a particular role or job as a singer, actor, dancer, or musician, consisting of a practical demonstration of the candidate's suitability and skill. ~ Oxford Languages

I am one of those who tends to be terrified most of the time. Or at least, I used to be. But as the years have gone by, I don't really fear them as much anymore. And sometimes I don’t have to audition, I just get the part!

Hilary Swank is quoted as saying: “All you have to remember is 'audition' is synonymous with 'opportunity. I mean, if you absolutely hate auditioning, do you also hate opportunities? That wouldn't make much sense.”

She didn’t make sense to me. Auditioning is usually torture.

I liked what Robert De Niro said: “Auditions are like a gamble. Most likely you won't get the part, but if you don't go, you'll never know if you could've got it.”

That’s why you have to do them even if they are torture. If you don’t try, you can’t win!

There is a theory that auditioning is your way of doing a mini play. You show yourself off and try to earn a role.

"Think of every audition as a chance to perform and you will have fun doing it."

~ Erica Schroeder

As a speed-reader, I have to slow myself way down or I get tangled up in the words. And I am always terrified that I am doing it wrong.

I could write an entire piece just on auditions I have done. Some have been hilarious since I never even read the play, so my intentions were all wrong. Sometimes I even got the part.

And every once in a while, there is a magical audition! Where it all comes together, and you feel it. Where all the planets and stars align, and it just works! I have only had that happen twice. And this is a short story about one of those times.

When I read about auditions for Master Class by Terrance McNally at Workshop Theatre in Columbia, SC in 2001, I did what all good actors do, I skimmed the play. And I wanted to do it!

What a glorious piece of writing; what a fabulous part!

After announcing my intentions, I was told not to bother because every opera singer in town was going to audition.

But here's the thing - she doesn't sing in the play, except for one small line from Verdi's Lady Macbeth. The stage direction is: "What comes out is a cracked and broken thing".  I figured I could do that. My singing tends to be cracked and broken unless I really am working on it.

I knew I was a little heavy and definitely too short. But I can lose weight and I can act taller! (I do that all the time.) So, I read up on Maria Callas. And I read the play, not just skimmed it. It’s daunting since most of the play is Maria onstage speaking to the audience all alone.

I knew the director and she directed opera also. I was a bit bummed because of being told not to even go for it. BUT I knew I could act it. Oh, and I so wanted to act it! So. after prepping, off to the audition I went.

The room was long, and I seem to remember light coming in from the windows, but that could be a false memory.  I just remember being alone in that room with Ellen, the director.

I don’t remember what I read, not a single line. I know I didn’t try any kind of dialect just heightened American.

What I do remember is that it was magical! All the lines, all the emotion behind and underneath the lines, everything was working! I felt her, I was her! I was transported!

And then I left.

I don’t remember when she called me and offered me the role. I do remember being elated! I do remember that I had to lose weight.

The Rehearsals

Learning Lines

Learning lines is the most horrifying part of acting for me. I don’t have an eidetic memory. I don’t have the ability to learn them instantly. Everyone has some sort of process. Some people write them down. Some people record them. I just recite them over and over and over and over.

I once read about Anthony Hopkins and how he learns lines. Here is an excerpt:

When it comes to preparing for a role, Hopkins delves deeply into the words of the script. He is known to go over his lines sometimes over 200 times until they’re absorbed into his psyche. “I learn the text so deeply that I think it has some chemical effect in my brain,” he says. “I believe in learning the text which is there. Once you know it so well that you can improvise and make it real, it’s easy. 

I recognize this. This is what I do. Go over the lines so much that somehow, they stick with me. At least that is what I want! But unfortunately, I never quite get them. There is usually a phrase or a word that escapes me. I hate it because I want to say the lines like the author wrote them. An actor is not to adapt the lines to themselves, but instead adapt themselves to the lines. Within the lines, over and underneath, is where the character is found. The rhythm, the pace is all-important. Alas…

I began by learning lines. Nevertheless, at the same time I was researching. 

The Research

I read every single book I could find on Maria Callas. Some I borrowed from the library and some I bought.  I still have them.  I wrote notes about the information I gleaned; two notebooks full. I watched interviews. I even bought her music and the EMI Callas La Divina Complete Limited Edition Box set.

To be clear, the Maria Callas of the play is merely a representation of the real Maria Callas. So why did I do all that research? Because I wanted to understand the real Maria so I might apply some of it to the character. I have to understand the inner life.

It is important to create the inner life in order to “live” the character, so all references in the play needed to make sense. To do that I had to learn about her life: where she lived, what she did, how she did.  That is part of the connection to the role.

While I still do not enjoy opera (much to Ellen Schlaefer’s chagrin!) I do love Maria Callas’ voice while singing opera. I still listen to her.

Maria Callas

Elena Martinez-Vidal as Maria Callas in Terrence McNally’s play Master Class

Losing Weight

 Step one: Stop drinking beer

Step two: Workout

Yes, that was it. I lost about 20 pounds as I recall.

What workouts did I do? Denise Austin was one. I don’t remember which specific video, but I remember lying on my tummy with my arms, head, and feet up in swimming position. (“Little fishies” or “little swimmies”)

The other was, believe it or not, Body Flex by Greer Childers. Yes, it is cheesy as hell, but it did seem to work.

Working with Ellen Schlaefer 

Because much of the play is just Maria standing on stage talking to the audience, Ellen and I worked one on one a lot. I remember leaving work and going to Workshop. We went through the script word by word, page by page, dissecting everything. Then we would go outside to have a cigarette break. I would then relate it all to something in my life. This is my version of emotional recall. Once I can relate emotionally, I can make decisions about subtext.

Subtext is especially important to the way I act. If I don’t know what is underneath the words, then I can’t play the actions and reactions. Then it’s just surface and not real for me. Again, part of it comes back to the research and part of it is relating to me as I relate to the character.

We really excavated her life! 

 

Physicality 

Ellen brought in a real opera singer to teach me the correct posture for Maria. Very straight, very taut in the stomach. This posture, to this day, can put me right back into Maria!

In the play, Maria says: “It’s important to have a look…Get one.”

Therefore, I did. Aided by David Swicegood.

My hair length was fine but needed to be lifted up on top and backcombing wasn’t going to do it! David created a little wiglet to blend into my own hair to give me that lift on top! Hard to see in this picture but you might be able to tell. I let my bangs grow out to go up over the wiglet.

More Rehearsals 

Closer to opening it was full on rehearsals with everyone else at Workshop Theatre. I was full on terrified at this point. Still memorizing lines and praying I would remember them. I think some of the others who were real musicians and singers thought I was a dud. I had to prove them wrong.

Now to her interviews. Maria Callas, the real one, spoke with a combination of Greek, Italian, and Brooklyn. She had a wacky dialect. I was trying to duplicate it. So difficult.

Greg Leevy (Bougie!) came to a rehearsal and afterwards there was a conversation about the dialect. We all agreed that I sounded like I was trying to do a dialect badly. So, I settled on a British/Italian sounding dialect. Whew, that was much, much easier!

Opening the Show 

Terrified!

Going over the script every single day!

Praying I could do this and not lose it!

Opening night, I remember every single line except one phrase!

The second I left the stage, Ellen said “you forgot ‘big Greek dick’ my favorite line!”

Yep, that’s the one I forgot.

While doing the show, it was like a marathon! And sometimes I lost my way!

One night I got completely boggled up and realized that I was talking but I had no idea what came next.

I turned around and there was Andy Zalkin, who walked on once he realized what was happening! Thank you, Andy, for getting me back on track!

One night I walked off the stage and the whole cast was there. They parted like the Red Sea, and there was my father!

My father, who never quite got why I wanted to do theatre, and who loved opera, came down from Pennsylvania to see me in Master Class. And he finally got it! He was so proud! And I was astonished, surprised, and thrilled!

Afterword

 We taped the show five times. Not for public use. Just for us. I have watched a bit of one of them. I still have them.

I am amazed! I am so removed in time from the show, that I impress myself!

I am grateful to everyone who worked on the show but most of all to Ellen who had faith in me.

“No applause. We’re here to work. This is not a theatre. This is a classroom!”

~~~~~~~~~

Elena Martínez-Vidal is an actor, director, and teacher. Recently she was in Montgomery, in 2019. The last show she directed was Marjorie Prime in 2019. Trustus Theatre is her theatrical home since appearing in a show in 1989 when the theatre was on Assembly street. She was a Company member from 1993 to 2019, then transitioned to Company Emeritus. Elena has a BA in French and Theatre Arts from Dickinson College, PA, and an MFA in Theatre: Acting from USC. She also has 30 hours of courses in Communication and a Certificate of Leadership in Higher Education from USC. By day, Elena works at Midlands Technical College.

REVIEW: Belles Ring True at Workshop Theatre by Patrick Michael Kelly

“… guided by the steady hand of Robin Gottlieb, whose extensive experience and sweet touch show through in this polished production .”

Workshop Theatre rings in the springtime with Mark Dunn’s Belles, a Southern comedy about keeping family ties over long distance. At a matinee on its first weekend, an attentive crowd laughed and cried along with the action at the Cottingham Theatre at Columbia College.

Belles weaves a story of six sisters spurred by an unfortunate encounter between their elderly mother and some bad tuna fish. Written in 1989, Dunn’s script is filled with zingers, one-liners, and Southern touchstones. Some humor doesn’t stand the test of time and makes for some awkward moments, but the play has a lot of heart, and it goes to some places you might not expect if judging a (phone)book by its cover. Underneath, Belles is a meandering portrait of a family broken by alcoholism and the telephone wires that, also, barely hold it together. The sisters are haunted by the ghost of their abusive father and scattered memories of their fading mother. The lives they choose all fall within the spectrum of trauma recovery. If this all sounds rather bleak, rest assured that there is plenty of hope to balance it out, guided by the steady hand of Robin Gottlieb, whose extensive experience and sweet touch show through in this polished production - her first in the director’s chair at Workshop.

At rise, we meet Peggy, the eldest sister and caretaker of mama (whom we never see but whose influence permeates every scene) as she calls up each of her other five sisters to give them the latest news. Over the course of the two-hour’s traffic, we watch the sisters communicate - with each other, with friends, and even strangers - giving us a window into each woman’s life and slowly revealing to us a larger context of the bonds of family and the wounds of time. Belles is largely a series of interwoven monologues, but it’s at its best when it employs dialogue. The scenes between two sisters (and sometimes two pairs of sisters), with the characters talking to each other directly even though they are hundreds of miles apart, are when the play really sings.

As is any monologue-heavy play, Belles is a showcase for its actors, and Gottlieb has provided us with a solid group.

Allison Allgood shines as Audrey, the performer of the family, with a strong sense of timing and full commitment to her character’s passions. Audrey dotes on Huckle, her wooden partner and surrogate child, and polishes their act in preparation for their big break. When things go off the rails, Audrey finds solace in her strong marriage, and Allgood’s engaging quirks become grounded in love. 

Katie Mixon brings her all to the most out-there character as Dust, or the sister formerly known as Sherry. Mixon focuses on the fickle eccentricity of her character and it pays off. The ongoing drama with her various paramours - most of which she handles solo - provides a lot of levity to the play, and the scene where she gives baby sister Paige relationship advice is a standout.

Kira Nessel is winning as Paige, the baby of the family who is now a grad student with impossibly high standards and a chip on her shoulder. Paige tries her best not to get too emotionally invested in an eager suitor, holding out hope for a more perfect specimen, but her sisters’ perspectives challenge her to be open to opportunity. Nessel’s journey as Paige is relatable and we root for her every step of the way.

Krista Forster’s Roseanne is facing a dissolving marriage, transitioning from stability to doubt and uncertainty. As such, Forster is tasked with some heavy lifting and she answers the bell, bringing full emotional availability and curiosity to her character. She also does an admirable job of communicating many of the more dated jokes. A particularly successful scene finds Forster personifying her sisters as various items in her kitchen as she decides which of them to call.

Raia Hirsch is well-cast as the most successful of the sisters, at least in terms of bank accounts. Hirsch’s Aneece works hard and drinks harder to cover up the traumas of her upbringing. A particularly powerful couplet of scenes in the second act stir up the family drama and reveal the reason for Aneece’s prickly exterior, and Hirsch succeeds in truthfully relating her character’s pain. Hirsch’s speech imagining a phone conversation with her mother is gutting.

Zsuzsa Manna grounds the cast - and the family - in her turn as Peggy. Manna has the most scenes in the play as Peggy is the hub through which all information gets filtered. Manna displays a lot of range between a heated argument with Aneece over their mother’s parenting and lending a concerned ear to Roseanne and her situation, however a promising scene where Peggy receives a lewd late-night caller could have gone further.

Gottlieb’s production has a savvy production team behind it as well, and she blends their contributions nicely. Dean McCaughan delivers an eye-catching set, with multiple playing areas on different levels, each space featuring vivid colors and curated details to distinguish each sister’s world. McCaughan pulls double duty as sound designer, and the combination of clever and unobtrusive analog-era tunes with a chaotic array of dial tones, busy signals, and automated messages is becoming of the material. Lighting by Patrick Faulds is simple but effective. Amber Westbrook’s costumes help date the play appropriately and further define the characters for the audience.

The many roles the sisters in Belles play to overcome the trauma of their upbringing - the caretaker, the workaholic, the homemaker, the performer, the flake, the commitment-phobe - all serve to paint a complete portrait of a family in recovery. By the play’s end, each sister is a little closer and more empathetic to the others, and a reunion appears on the horizon. While this 31-year-old play doesn’t break any new ground, it does prompt examination of our own paths, and may inspire you to call your loved ones a little more often. Workshop’s Belles is well-worth ringing up.

Patrick Michael Kelly is the new Theatre Editor for Jasper Magazine. For more about Patrick read athe spring issue of Jasper releasing mid-April.

Belles runs through March 15th at Workshop Theatre at Cottingham Theatre on the campus of Columbia College.

For more information contact Workshoptheatre.com.

REVIEW -- Workshop Theatre Raises the Bar with Other Desert Cities

“In a bold step outside of musicals and light comedies, Workshop has taken a chance with a more serious dramatic piece, and the payoff is a moving, thought-provoking, and occasionally unsettling production which closes on a hopeful note.”

Marshall Spann and Dell Goodrich

As always, I will open by disclosing that I am a frequent director and member of the Board of Trustees for Workshop Theatre, which is of particular importance in the case of Other Desert Cities. Organizational affiliations aside, I strive for neutrality and objectivity with all of my reviews, and do my best to put on blinders concerning friendships and professional connections with cast members, performing companies, etc. That said, here’s my take on the production, which runs through Sunday afternoon at Columbia College’s Cottingham Theatre.

Wow.

Under the skilled guidance of Jefferey Schwalk, who makes his Columbia directorial debut, this finalist for the 2012 Pulitzer Prize for Drama comes to glorious, heartbreaking, and oft-hilarious life through the work of a uniformly strong and experienced cast. While known for quality and high production values, Workshop has set a new standard for itself and its audiences with this distinguished and compelling drama/comedy which spends the first quarter of the show providing subtle exposition through a series of intelligent wisecracks and bitingly witty exchanges, gradually morphing into a dystopia of family secrets and suppressed resentments. Unless you were lucky enough to grow up in an extremely happy and conflict-free home, you’re likely to recognize at least some of the dysfunction, which makes Other Desert Cities relatable to almost everyone. (Seriously, while the script is brilliant, it could be mildly to moderately triggering to those with unresolved family-based emotional wounds. There’s no physical violence onstage, but as far too many of us know, words can sting much more than a slap to the face.)

The plot is a straightforward one, so I won’t risk creating spoilers with an in-depth synopsis, but the basics are that Brooke Wyeth (Dell Goodrich) is a writer from NYC, visiting her childhood home in California for the first time in six years. There she encounters her acerbic mother, Polly (Debra Kiser), who openly criticizes Brooke’s liberal politics and presumably humble lifestyle. Brooke’s father, Lyman (Bill Arvay), is a former B-list cowboy/detective film star who has made a name for himself as a GOP politico representing the “old guard Hollywood” brand of conservatism. Clearly based on the Reagans, Polly and Lyman both reference time spent with “Ron and Nancy,” and drop a few more right-wing names throughout the script, with Lyman presenting himself as the more reasonable and decent parent while Polly revels in her dragon-lady persona. Polly’s brother, Trip (Marshall Spann), and fresh-out-of-rehab aunt, Silda (Resi Talbot) complete the family circle, as the quintet attempt to spend a pleasant Christmas Eve together despite their differences. Looming over the holiday is the shadow of Henry, the deceased third Wyeth sibling. As with most families thrown together at the holiday season, age-old irritants quickly surface, and resentments are only somewhat tempered by the Yuletide spirit. While substance abuse doesn’t directly drive the plot, drugs and/or alcohol are frequently consumed, subtly contributing to the aura of desperation each character brings to the situation. Through the course of the show we discover more than a few hidden psychological scars, a couple of turnabout motivation revelations, and a second-act reveal that forces the audience to rethink prior assumptions about the entire family. If you’re looking for a morality tale with clearly-defined “good guys and bad guys,” you won’t find it here. Each of the Wyeths has secrets, and everyone shows the capacity for cruelty and kindness, often within the same sentence or two.

The performances are uniformly solid, with Goodrich’s Brooke as a particular standout. The events unfold from (presumably) her point of view, and Goodrich wrings pretty much every emotion out of her character as the story progresses. (Having seen and admired her work for years, I must say that this is one of her strongest roles to date.) Brooke is the adult child who never fit in with her family, which Goodrich clearly conveys without ever resorting to melodrama. Part of what makes Other Desert Cities so impressive is its commitment to stark realism, and the cast never flinches or sugar-coats the subject matter. Arvay’s commanding stage presence and imposing physique lend themselves perfectly to the ascot-sporting benevolent patriarch whose explosions are few and far between, but Vesuvius-like when they do occur. Kiser’s performance dovetails nicely with Arvay’s, bringing a constantly nagging but easily dismissed balance to the parental team. One can easily envision them having (perhaps unknowingly) having raised their children by the “good cop/bad cop” technique. As Silda, Talbot creates a sassy, aging peacenik with flower-child sensibilities. While battling her own demons, Silda serves as an advocate for Brooke, yet holds a few of her own cards out of sight. Having seen her in mostly musicals and comedies, I was most impressed with Talbot’s dramatic acting chops. As does Goodrich, she takes on a character that could easily drift into caricature, and portrays a three-dimensional human being whose life choices took her down a different path than the one her sister chose. Spann’s Trip, who exudes a friendly enough persona, is arguably the only glue binding Brooke to the rest of the clan. At times cynical, and at others genuinely hopeful, Spann artfully captures the spirit of a young man who has accepted his mundane yet lucrative life as the producer of a courtroom reality show. Given that Lyman’s film career was financially rewarding but undistinguished, it makes sense that Trip would see himself as having similarly “succeeded” in show business, and Spann subtly incorporates touches of Arvay’s aura of undeluded self-satisfaction. The script has each of them acknowledging that his work is anything but high art, yet neither approaches this admission with shame or resignation.

On the technical front, the unit set, designed by director Schwalk and Patrick Faulds, is fully realized and realistically furnished. Not only does the family room appear cared for and complete, it features various books, works of art, and bric-a-brac contributed by the cast (including a painting by the late Gerald Floyd, a Columbia theatre icon.) This touch of personalization will likely go unnoticed by most, but I suspect it provided an extra element of actor familiarity with the space, which added a layer of believability to the performances. Another nice touch is a series of framed movie posters depicting Lyman’s silver screen days. Costume Designer Alexis Docktor brings her well-established skill to the production, with an outstanding use of color, dressing Brooke in shades of grey and black, with the rest of the cast in bright pastels and primaries. Brooke is the only family member not living behind some manifestation of a façade, and freely admits to having been hospitalized for depression, while the others (at least initially) suppress and hide their respective dark experiences. Lighting and sound are ably handled by Dean McCaughan, who does a particularly nice job of side-lighting the small section of the outdoors glimpsed through the room’s French doors, and Stage Manager Jeff Morris keeps everything moving at a steady pace while coordinating a prop-heavy show.

Other Desert Cities is almost flawless, but I would be remiss not to mention the minor issue of occasionally having found the more intimate moments of conversation a bit difficult to hear. Cottingham Theatre’s acoustics are not ideal, and the actors perform without mics, so if you want to catch every word, I would suggest taking a seat somewhere around audience center or closer.

In a bold step outside of musicals and light comedies, Workshop has taken a chance with a more serious dramatic piece, and the payoff is a moving, thought-provoking, and occasionally unsettling production which closes on a hopeful note. It may not be “happily ever after,” but by the epilogue, it looks as if the Wyeth family may finally be at peace with itself.

Tickets for Other Desert Cities may be purchased online at Workshoptheatre.com, or by calling the box office at (803) 799-6551.

Frank Thompson is proud to serve as Theatre Editor for JASPER.

We Welcome You to Munchkinland—Elisabeth Gray Engle on Directing This Summer’s Children’s Musical The Wizard of Oz

 

Lions, and tigers, and bears! Oh My!

Sixty-five children of all different ages from the Columbia area came together this summer to bring you the youth edition of a beloved classic, The Wizard of Oz through Workshop Theatre.

“We are very excited to be doing The Wizard of Oz this summer! There are so many magical elements to this show already, so that is really fun to explore. But the real magical feeling comes from the cast members. We have a very large cast of kids of varying ages and schools who come together to create this show. They form bonds and friendships, and the excitement and energy that they bring to rehearsal is the real magic of the show,” director Elisabeth Gray Engle says.

The range of experience and ages might often lead to complications in the directing process, but Engle uses each child’s unique talents and personalities to create their own interpretation of such a well-known show.

“…Many of our roles are double cast, so there are two actors who alternate the role. This is really fun because you get to watch these two young actors create two very different characters from the same material,” Engle explains. “So much of the humor of our production has come from the actors, and I think that is what makes our production unique. We have a very talented group of kids who each bring something different to their characters.”

While the 4 to 18-year-olds bring a lot to the theatrical table, the production team has also put their own spin on things. With people like Alexis Doktor doing costumes and Baxter Engle doing set, the wonderful land of Oz is sure to excited audiences aesthetically.

“I cannot say enough good things about our Oz Team. Katie Hilliger (Choreographer), Jordan Harper (Musical Director), Jeni McCaughan (Producer), Braxton Crewell (Stage Manager), just to name a few, make this experience so positive and meaningful for our kids. We have high expectations for our cast, but we have a lot of fun along the way,” Engle affirms.

Engle, herself, is no stranger to the stage or directing. She is a company member at Trustus Theatre where she has taught, performed, and will be seen next in the world premiere of Big City. On top of all that, this is Engle’s 5^th summer production through Workshop, her 11^th year directing youth theatre, and she continues to teach theatre at Heathwood Hall Episcopal School.

“I love working with kids in the summer because it is such a joyous time of year in their lives. The summer musical is different than a school musical or a show during the year because the kids (and adults!) have that special energy that can only exist during the summer,” Engle elaborates. “…They come together during the summer to create this show, so that [in] itself sets the experience apart from school year productions. It’s really exciting to see so many kids from so many different schools who love musical theatre come together. They get along so well, and they love being with ‘their people.’”

The show runs June 25 through June 28, with both evening and matinee performances at the Heathwood Hall Episcopal School auditorium. Go to workshop.palmettoticketing.com for times and tickets!

“Theatre always has a unique way of bringing people together, and we have certainly seen that this summer with our cast,” Engle endearingly states. “Our cast is made up of kids from varying backgrounds, schools, locations, and experiences, and we have loved seeing them come together to create art.”

By Haley Sprankle

Eugene Strikes Back! "Broadway Bound" at Workshop Theatre Completes Acclaimed Neil Simon Trilogy

"Being in love can be a real career killer.”

That's a classic quote from the beloved Eugene Morris Gerome, the protagonist of Broadway Bound, the final play in Neil Simon’s autobiographical trilogy, which opens this Friday, January 16 in The Market Space at 701 Whaley.   University of South Carolina professor David Britt, who directed both previous installments for Workshop Theatre, returns to finish out the series.

USC senior Ryan Stevens steps into the lead role to complete the Eugene trifecta.  “First and foremost, it’s a real honor to get to step in and be the culminating Eugene," says Stevens.  "Jared Kemmerling, who played him in Brighton Beach Memoirs, really created a very youthful, energetic portrait of Eugene as a kid.  Jay Fernandes, whom I’ve gotten the pleasure of working with personally, carried him through into young adulthood in Biloxi Blues.  They both, in their respective shows, had to show Eugene growing up and adapting to different things - to the Depression, to the War, etc.,” Stevens says.  "For me, in Broadway Bound, he’s older now - he’s starting his proper adult life. He’s got a chance here, a chance for efficacy. In the previous two plays, Eugene was really more observant, of family drama, of drama in his unit. With his career here, with the chance to become a writer, he’s getting an opportunity to actually do something for himself, for everyone to see.”

As a member of USC’s improv troupe Toast and a playwright himself, Stevens is no stranger to comedy and to the trials that a writer such as Eugene may face.

“I’m about his age, and as a senior here at USC, I’m about to be in a pretty similar career situation.  I know how he feels, absolutely!  When you’re writing, you want to believe what you’re writing in, and sometimes that carries over into a sort of syndrome where you just decide ‘This first draft? It’s flawless. Final draft. Done.’   Eugene’s brother, Stanley, in a lot of the scenes they share, is poking holes in the logic of what Eugene writes. Every critique he has is valid, but for Eugene, it’s infuriating!  Any writer, in having their work reviewed, has that feeling of ‘Dammit, I know the logic is weak and this joke didn’t land and there’s a huge plot hole there, but I’ll be DAMNED if someone who isn’t me is going to tell me!’ I like to think that I, as Ryan, have gotten better at taking critique, but Eugene still bristles a little when he has to do the dreaded thing that haunts all writers’ dreams: edit,” Stevens elaborates.

Alongside all these comedic moments there is still a serious story to be told.

Simon is “very deft at handling all the clashing moods that happen inside this little house," Stevens explains. "David Britt has been great at reminding us that all of the humor comes from the same place as the drama, because it comes from us, the characters, the people and our relationships to one another. Neither humor nor drama really occur in a vacuum -- there has to be the human element to tether it, to make it feel real (and) relatable,”

While the story may be set in a decade different to our own, audiences today can still cherish the lessons learned through the eyes of a young writer similar to Stevens himself.

“Right now, these days, there’s all this talk about how this generation is the worst generation ever, that we’re lazy and entitled, and all this nonsense, which I really think is nonsense, because we didn’t do any of this! We didn’t create the world’s problems - the generation before us did, and we’re just the ones footing the bill. But by the same token, we’ll stand a much better chance of solving our problems and closing this hostile generation gap if we quit believing it ourselves. A lot of people my age have heard it so much that they’ve started believing it themselves,” Stevens says.  "Broadway Bound is very clear in the fact that the previous generation of adults is always just as backwards and screwed up as the current one. It was true in the 1940’s, it’s true today, and it’ll be true in the future. There are always generation gaps. Broadway Bound wants the younger generation to realize that their parents are fallible, yes, and fallible because they’re people too. The age range in the play is at the point where the youngest character is 23, and therefore, nobody is a child anymore. Everyone is sort of on an equal playing field. Which is how it should be, for young and old. There’s no talking down in this play, there’s no pretension or condescension to anyone. The kids and the parents are on the same plane. Does that level of emotional honesty have some blowback? Of course. But it’s still better than acting like the people of yesterday, today, and tomorrow are too divided to communicate.”

Broadway Bound's cast includes Samantha Elkins and Lou Warth Boeschen, returning from 2013's production of Brighton Beach Memoirs, again playing Eugene's mother Kate and her sister Blanche respectively.  William Cavitt,who appeared in Britt's 2014 production of Biloxi Blues in a different role, will portray older brother Stanley, while Chris Cook, last as seen as Lear opposite Cavitt's Edgar in this past fall's SC Shakespeare Company production of King Lear, plays father Jack. David Reed, who performed with Cook and Cavitt in the 2013 High Voltage production of Dracula, rounds out the cast as grandfather Ben. Reed in a way comes full circle with this performance, having played Jack in a 1990 incarnation of Broadway Bound at Town Theatre. The original Broadway production ran for over two years, and was nominated for four Tony Awards and four Drama Desk Awards, winning two of each, and was a 1987 Pulitzer finalist. The original cast included Jonathan Silverman, and Jason Alexander (who went on to star in The Single Guy and Seinfeld respectively) as Eugene and Stanley, with Linda Lavin (a Golden Globe winner for the long-running tv series Alice) as Kate.

Workshop Theatre's new production of Neil Simon's Broadway Bound will run January 16-25 at The Market Space at 701 Whaley. Tickets can be purchased through the Box Office at (803) 799-6551, or online at www.workshoptheatre.com .

~ Haley Sprankle

Five Guys Named Moe: Workshop Theatre Opens New Season at 701 Whaley - by Haley Sprankle

New beginnings spark for Workshop Theatre as they open their 2014-2015 season with the  jukebox musical Five Guys Named Moe.   The biggest change the company is facing is their new  performance location in The Market Space at 701 Whaley Street.

"Five Guys Named Moe is the first production in this new space," says the show's director, Lou Boeschen.  "No precedents have been set indicating how we should transform this completely empty space into an intimate theatre. This  can be both good and bad. You are open to think outside the box and set the stage any way you  like, but you don't have the experiences of a prior production to show what works or doesn't  work in the space.”

This new space opens up vast opportunities for inventive, fresh new staging opportunities, which add a new level of artistry that audiences may not have seen at Workshop before. Each director is able  to completely create his or her desired environment, allowing a lot of liberties with blocking and  staging.

“When I first started to visualize Five Guys Named Moe, it was difficult not to see it in the  familiar setting of Craft Auditorium at the corner of Bull and Gervais Streets," said Boeschen.  "After meeting with  set designer, Lee Shepherd, I was able to quickly adjust my thinking. I came to Lee with several  ideas about how I wanted the stage area to be arranged with different levels and a dedicated  place for the band. He took those ideas and, using his expertise for building a set off-site and  moving it into a performance space, came up with a fantastic design.”

Not only will the new space be created to fit the musical and the vision that Boeschen has, but it also  must accommodate a live band, which is not always the case with every theatre.   “There will be a live band led by our musical director, Roland Haynes, Jr. He's assembled a quintet of  talented musicians, a few of whom he plays jazz gigs with regularly," explained Boeschen. "The music is the core of this  piece, a character in a sense. It is important to me that the band be a part of the action on stage.  From their bandstand on the right side of the stage area, the cast members are able to interact  with Roland and the other musicians.”

The cast has been rehearsing in the Workshop Theatre rehearsal space on Elmwood Avenue, and will be able to  move into the theatre just a short four days before they open.

“Throughout the rehearsal process, I referred to the ground plan design often when explaining  blocking and spacing to the cast," Boeschen recalls.  "The cast is using some of the smaller set pieces already in the  rehearsal space, which is not much smaller than the area that will be set as a stage at 701  Whaley.  Joy Alexander, the choreographer, has worked hard to create perfect choreography for  this style of show, but she has also kept it very flexible. The first night on the set, Sunday, will  be used for blocking and adjusting choreography spacing. I am anticipating needing to  make a few adjustments, but nothing major,” said Boeschen.

Along with all the adjustments and accommodations that the theatre faces as they debut in their  new performance space, Boeschen will also debut as a director.

“I felt it was time to get my feet wet and direct a show. I didn't want to tackle a huge musical  production my first time at the helm, however, so a small revue-style show seemed like a good  starting point. I submitted my interest to direct and was chosen by the play selection committee  at Workshop to direct Five Guys Named Moe. I love Louis Jordan's music, and the story written  by Clarke Peters that connects the songs is genuine,” said Boeschen.

Although Workshop has produced Five Guys Named Moe before, this new cast brings a fresh  take on the musical.  “There are a couple of names and faces in the cast that audiences will recognize from previous  productions at Workshop, Town Theatre, Trustus and even Opera USC, but we have some  newcomers as well. The guys all have rich musical backgrounds, which is a blessing for a show  like Five Guys Named Moe. I've enjoyed working with both the seasoned performers and the  first-timers, as they each bring a distinct energy and eagerness to the process,” Boeschen said.

Five Guys Named Moe runs September 18-21 in The Market Space at 701 Whaley. Regular priced adult tickets are $22, senior and active military tickets are $20, student tickets are $16,  and children (12 & under) are $12.  Come out for a new experience at a new location with an old friend, Workshop  Theatre.

~ Haley Sprankle, Jasper intern

From press material:

The Story: His woman left him, he’s broke, and it’s almost five o’clock in the mornin’. But don’t be worryin’ ’bout our hero, Nomax. Out of Nomax’s ’30s-style radio pop Five Guys Named Moe. They cajole, wheedle, comfort and jazz him with the whimsical hit songs of Louis Jordan, one of the most beloved songwriting talents of the twentieth century. With more than fifty top ten singles on the rhythm and blues charts, this great composer and saxophonist brought a popular new slant to jazz that paved the way for the rock-and-roll of the 1950’s.

Five Guys Named Moe show dates and times: Thursday, September 18 @ 8 pm Friday, September 19 @ 8 pm Saturday, September 20 @ 3 pm and 8 pm Sunday, September 21 @ 3 pm and 8 pm

Go to workshoptheatre.com to purchase tickets online or call the Box Office at 803-799-6551 between noon and 5:30 pm. Workshop Theatre’s Box Office is located at 635 Elmwood Ave., Columbia, SC, 29201. Box Office hours are from noon to 5:30 pm. Reservations can be made online 24 hours a day through the website.

In Jasper Vol. 3, No. 4: Curtain Call: Workshop's Leading Ladies Look Back

"'All we are trying to do is to present good theatre.' So said unnamed 'leaders' of Workshop Theatre, in a 1968 newspaper article which assessed their first season and promoted the second. It's almost impossible to imagine that the group often referred to the upstart or breakaway theatre, founded by rebels or young Turks, is nearing the half-century mark, and harder still to imagine that soon the curtain will fall on their familiar location at Bull and Gervais Streets. Still, audiences know that a second act always follows that curtain, and that a theatre is far more than a building, however beloved that building may be. In keeping with this issue's theme of women artists, we thought it only appropriate to consider all that Workshop has meant to so many people over the years, and to tell its story through the eyes, ears, and memories of some - only a handful out of dozens, hundreds even - of its most distinguished leading ladies. ..." - August Krickel For the full story and photos, check out page 30 of the magazine below:

"Biloxi Blues" at Workshop Theatre - a review by August Krickel

Last spring, Workshop Theatre audiences were introduced to the young Eugene Jerome, a horny, wisecracking, young teenager with a sensitive, intellectual side in Brighton Beach Memoirs. The alter-ego for playwright Neil Simon in his acclaimed and semi-autobiographical "Eugene trilogy" (also referred to as the "BB trilogy"), Eugene has now matured. Into a horny, wisecracking older teenager with a sensitive intellectual side. It's 1943, and he's in boot camp in Mississippi, experiencing Biloxi Blues. Director David Britt returns with a strong and age-appropriate young cast to track this next step of Eugene's journey. The tone is intentionally uneven, alternating between classic sketch comedy, sweet romance, and intense, character-driven drama, and the language and themes are at times as R-rated as you'd expect from the setting, but it's an amazingly honest memoir from Simon.

As Eugene, Jason Fernandes strikes the perfect tone as a young man in the process of finding himself. He still has an incredible gift for wordplay and funny observations about life, which, as in the earlier play, he often delivers to the audience directly, narrating the play's action which stops long enough for him to break the fourth wall. Yet Eugene now knows he wants to be writer; he's read all the great authors whom he hopes to emulate, and in his journal, his observations on life and human nature are fairly deep and insightful. Matthew Broderick played the role on Broadway to great acclaim just before filming Ferris Bueller's Day Off, and Eugene is a wittier (if less mischievous) Ferris, if Ferris were a Jewish New Yorker. (In one of those "Awwww" moments, Broderick evidently brought cast mate Alan Ruck, who played Pvt. Carney on Broadway, along to Hollywood, where Ruck played Ferris's best friend Cameron.) Fernandes's bio indicates he is from Long Island and a freshman in college, so he already has the accent and age down pat.  Resembling a young Adam Sandler, he successfully navigates the tricky jumps in tone from wisdom to naiveté to working the crowd like a Borscht Belt comedian.

Another standout in the cast is William Cavitt as Wykowski, ostensibly the gung-ho bully in Eugene's platoon. Unrecognizable from the dapper British gentleman he played in High Voltage's Dracula last fall, Cavitt also excels at revealing the humanity in what could have easily been a stereotypical stock character. Stephen Canada also has some good moments as sad sack Carney, and like Cavitt, does a great job with capturing the Northern accent. Canada and Fernandes have a surprisingly touching scene which shows how clearly, yet simultaneously subtly, Eugene is growing up.  Seemingly insulting Carney as untrustworthy due to his constant vacillation, Eugene explains that they are both about to be in combat situations where decisiveness can save their lives, which is a very mature observation for a kid just a few weeks into basic training.

As local hooker Rowena, Jennifer Moody Sanchez is appropriately sexy and vampy, showing trace elements of compassion as she realizes that she will be Eugene's first. (As above, part of the honest nature of this play is that we find ourselves rooting for an innocent kid to lose his virginity to a hooker.) Her Southern accent drips with magnolia blossom honey, much like Park Overall's film portrayal, and almost seems too extreme, but we've all known ladies from that era who drawl with great pride, plus this is a memory play, and that's surely how all Southern accents sounded to both Simon and Eugene.

Winsome Haley Sprankle shines as Daisy, the adorable sort of red-headed Catholic school girl that we'd all go fight Hitler for in a heartbeat. Her scenes with Eugene are a great example of Simon's excellence with dialogue:  Eugene, as the surrogate for the playwright, has the advantage of a middle-aged Tony-winner from the 1980's writing his snappy lines, while Daisy speaks like the heroine of a 1940's war movie.  The way they flirt at a USO dance by bonding over literature is just incredibly well-written, and well-acted by these young performers: he is familiar with Fitzgerald's Daisy Buchanan and Henry James's Daisy Miller, she counters that she also likes Tolstoy's Anna Karenina and O'Neill's Anna Christie, and of course he points out that he likes writers named Eugene. That's the basis for true love right there, or what passes for it when millions of young men were shipping off to war, with no guarantee of return. Fernandes, Cavitt, Canada, Sanchez and Sprankle are also uniformly strong with projection.

A pivotal subplot involves misfit Pvt. Epstein (Colby Gambrell) and the harsh discipline of Drill Sgt. Toomey (Lee Williams.) Eugene acknowledges Epstein's criticism that he is too much of an observer, recording his life experiences with a writer's skill, but rarely taking the lead. Both characters suffer from the anti-Semitism of the era, but Eugene finds a way to blend in via his wit and social skills, which is a recurring theme, and source of guilt, for many Jewish authors. Eugene rarely jokes in his diary entries, and writes that he admires Epstein, but suspects that he is a homosexual, which bothers him - and it bothers him that it bothers him. Which is about as eloquent and honest a line as I can imagine.

Toomey goes through the expected tyrannical procedures familiar to us from a hundred movies, and from the war stories of our fathers and grandfathers, but again, Simon shows his dramatic gift via tiny nuances of characterization: no matter how harsh Toomey is on his men, the one time he will come to someone's defense is if anyone within the unit is anything but supportive of his fellow soldiers. And sure enough, halfway through the play, no one is complaining about the physical rigors of boot camp any more, and the aggressive barracks-room banter has acquired a sort of rough camaraderie and acceptance. Epstein is often called the central character of the piece, but Gambrell rushes a lot of his lines, and more often cedes focus to Fernandes. Williams likewise has got the right anger and aggression for Toomey, but I never quite accepted him as a tough non-com, although he'd make a terrific rigid captain or major. That said, he is quite convincing in an unexpectedly tender moment when the platoon loses one of their own, calling the youth "son" as only a leader can.   Williams has had a baptism by fire in his first two years of local theatre, tackling challenging roles in works by Henley and Albee, and I look forward to more from him in the future. I also suspect that a few run-throughs with a live audience by the time you read this will have given Gambrell the opportunity to even out a little of his delivery.

As above, several scenes are Simon's chance to lend his considerable comedic talent to vintage skits about fresh recruits bantering with their drill sergeant, and GI's with a weekend pass at a whorehouse. Other scenes, however, are genuinely moving drama, with Simon demonstrating that his career could have gone in the direction of his idols like Fitzgerald, had comic genius not been his meal ticket to fame. Simon is of course famous for his comedies, but we need to remember that he has more Tony and Oscar nominations than any other writer in the world. He has won the Pulitzer, and four Tony awards, including one for this very play, which beat out  Tracers, As Is, and new works from August Wilson and David Rabe, for best play in 1985.  The juxtaposition of jokes and raw emotion may be a little unsettling for those looking for The Odd Couple, as will the language and frank sexuality, but the pay-off is worth it.

A couple of random notes: I commend the male cast for fully committing to their roles - all sport military buzz-cuts, significantly helping the show's authenticity, and all manage to do some intense push-ups on stage while not dropping a single line.  Also, full disclosure, I may not be entirely impartial here, because a lifetime ago I played Eugene's older brother in the third play in this trilogy, and when Eugene declares that there must be at least 52 sexual positions, since he once saw a pack of dirty playing cards, I instantly thought "Well, his brother had to have given him those!"

Biloxi Blues runs through Sat. March 29th at Workshop Theatre; call the box office at (803) 799-6551, or visit http://www.workshoptheatre.com/BiloxiBlues.html for ticket information.

~ August Krickel

Brian Childers plays Danny Kaye this weekend at Workshop Theatre, and talks about his roots in local theatre

This weekend, award-wining professional stage performer Brian Childers brings his critically-acclaimed one-man performance as Danny Kaye to the stage of Workshop Theatre for two shows only.    An Evening with Danny Kaye is co-sponsored by The Katie and Irwin Kahn Jewish Community Center as a fund raiser for the theatre. Show dates and times are: Sat. December 7 at 8 pm, and Sun. December 8 at 3 pm.

Childers, a Columbia native and veteran performer on local stages, took time recently to talk with Jasper about his career and this special production.

Jasper:  Tell us a little about your background, and how you became involved in theatre locally.

Childers:    I was born in Columbia, SC, and graduated from Irmo High School.  My first "role" was in a production at our school assembly. I played the Narrator, and my mother says there was no stopping me. I was singing from the time I was able, and sang in church and school all the time. I did my first children's theatre rroduction with (Bette Herring's) Upstage Children's Theatre in Columbia many years ago, but I really cut my teeth on working with such theatres as Workshop Theatre, Town Theatre and the Lexington Arts Association.

Jasper: What were some especially memorable shows at Workshop, and some people you really enjoyed working with?

Childers:  Growing up in Columbia, I always wanted to be in a show at Workshop Theatre, and I got the privilege to be in several shows there.  I did And the World Goes Round, a play called Scotland Road, Scrooge, the Stingiest Man in Town, and one of my all time favorite theatrical experiences was playing John Adams in 1776 at Workshop. I worked with such directors as David Swicegood, Cindy Flack, and Clarence Felder. I loved every set I have ever seen built by Randy Strange. I really love the staff and crew at Workshop.

Jasper: At what point did you make the transition into acting professionally?

Childers:    I finished college, and came back home for a year and a half, not sure what was the next step to take. I actually did a full season and a half of back-to-back shows at Town Theatre and Workshop Theatre. Those were some of the best times that I can remember. After that season I decided it was time to head up north and try my wings in show business.  I decided not to move directly to New York. I had many friends who had up and gone to the Big Apple and had not worked since!  Instead, I decided to move to Washington D.C.    There was, and is, a thriving theatre scene there. I thought that if I couldn't get cast in Washington, I certainly was not going to get cast in New York. I was incredibly lucky in Washington:  I worked constantly for the next 5 years.  (After) my first audition, I landed the role of Emory in Boys in the Band at my first professional theatre company, The American Century Theatre. It was this theatre that brought about the life changing role of Danny Kaye.

Jasper:  You first played Kaye in Danny and Sylvia; how did you initially get cast?

Childers:  I was in a production of Hollywood Pinafore with The American Century Theater.  I was playing the role of Raif Rackstraw. When Jack Marshall (the show's director and the artistic director of the theatre) and I discussed what to do with this character, unbeknownst to us at the time, we really shaped him as a Danny Kaye-type without meaning to. There was one scene in particular that Jack saw me play and apparently the lightbulb went on.  Jack had had the script on his desk of Danny and Sylvia, but was convinced he needed someone who really could be Danny. So when Jack saw the scene in the show he ran back to me at intermission and said, “You are going to play Danny Kaye, and I have a script on my desk.”  I immediately said "Oh, I love Danny Kaye", but the truth was I knew very little if nothing about him. I went home that night and googled Danny Kaye... and then I thought "WHAT HAVE I GOT MYSELF INTO??"   Once we started rehearsals with Jack Marshall, I knew all was going to be fine. He directed me and taught me how to play Danny Kaye.  And that was the start of this incredibly long wonderful journey. I have been playing Danny Kaye on and off for over 13 years.

Jasper:  Kaye was a huge star at one point, but perhaps not as well known now to modern audiences, apart from his iconic role in White Christmas. What do you think about him as a performer, and then as a character to play?

Childers:  Danny was really a genius. He could sing, dance, act, clown, and hold an audience in the palm of his hand. He was a true entertainer. That word isn’t used much these days. You have a singer, or a dancer, or even a triple threat, but Danny was much more than all those things. At one point he was the highest paid actor in Hollywood.  Danny conducted symphony orchestras, was a professional Chinese chef, a pilot and was fascinated by surgery of any kind. Versatile was definitely a way to describe Danny.

Playing Danny as a character has been one of the greatest challenges and most fulfilling things I have ever done as an actor and performer. Danny was complicated offstage and yet was so wonderful with an audience onstage. It's a dream for any actor to dive into a role like that.

Jasper:    What are some particularly enjoyable roles and shows that you have done?

Childers:  Of course playing Danny Kaye Off-Broadway for three years was pretty spectacular. Danny still remains my favorite role. When I first arrived in DC, I landed the part of Emory in Boys in the Band. Perhaps because it was my first real professional experience,or just the great character that it is, I loved that role. I was fortunate to be cast in a brand new musical called 90 North at the Kennedy Center, which made me a member of Actor's Equity, the theatrical union. I played Tom Sawyer on the National Tour of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, and loved the cast and the role.  And starring in a national tour was a very big learning experience.   I actually loved playing John Adams at Workshop Theatre in 1776. When I got the call that I was cast, I was floored.  I told the director I was entirely too young, and I was performing with some terrific actors in the theatre scene there at the time. He told me trust him, and it would be fine. I did, and I loved the role and the cast of that show.

Jasper:  What can audiences expect from this performance in Columbia?

Childers:  An Evening with Danny Kaye is just as it sounds. I have been in several different book musicals of his life, (including) Danny and Sylvia and another very successful show I did called The Kid from Brooklyn. Both covered his life story. This show is not that.  Danny used to perform one-man concerts all over the world. Many people over the years came up to me and said "Why don't you do a show that was like the concerts he used to do?" So I put together this show. The idea is that the audience is coming to see Danny in his one-man concert.  There is nothing but music and stories. I perform some of his greatest material, from  "Tchaikovsky", "Minnie the Moocher" to  "Hans Christian Andersen" and of course "White Christmas". The show is filled with great music and laughter - a fun and exciting evening at the theatre. My hope is that it will bring nostalgia to some and for others (introduce) this great performer to a new generation.

Jasper:  Finally, why do you feel organizations like Workshop Theatre are important to a city like Columbia?

Childers:  I believe that theatres such as Workshop play a vital role in both the community and in the cultivation of young talent. Community theatre enriches the lives of those who take an active part in it, as well as those in the community who benefit from live theatre productions. On either side of the footlights, those involved represent a diversity of age, culture, life experience, and a strong appreciation of the importance of the arts. Places like Workshop Theatre are essential and must be preserved and nurtured. I know that I would not be where I am without actively taking a part in Workshop Theatre. It is a privilege to be able to return and perform at Workshop Theatre.

...................

Brian Childers won the Helen Hayes Award for Best Actor in a Musical for  Danny and Sylvia: A Musical Love Story, as well as the Mary Goldwater Award for his portrayal. The  New York Times wrote that this was "an outstanding performance by Brian Childers as Kaye," while Talkin’ Broadway said: "Childers makes you feel as if you are watching the real Danny Kaye. Every gesture is perfect and he has mastered the mimicry and dialects that were such a great part of Kaye's performances."  In 2014, Childers will play the title role in The Jazz Singer Off-Broadway.  You can also learn more about his career at http://www.brianchilders.net.

Details on this special performance can be found at the Facebook event page  and at the Workshop Theatre site.  Tickets are available online,  or call the Workshop box office at 803-799-6551.

~ August Krickel