"Alice in Wonderland"

Theatre review
"Alice in Wonderland" at Cornell University Schwartz Center
The Ithaca Journal
February 7, 2008
735 words
"‘Alice in Wonderland' captures absurdity of tale"

full text here

‘Alice in Wonderland' captures absurdity of tale
By Mark Tedeschi
Special to The Journal

A few short decades ago, American culture was rife with daring, high-profile explorations of jarring unease, commonly drawn out of the artistic consciousness by the conflict in Vietnam. The present Iraq War seems to remind us of that strange but human hunger for absurdity, that need to bulldoze convention just to make a point.

The inescapable comparison of today's sociopolitical climate to yesterday's brings with it, at least in Ithaca, a desire to pay homage to the theatrical creations of the ‘60s and ‘70s. This past summer, the Hangar Theatre staged the classic “Hair”; this month, Cornell's Schwartz Center presents an equally delightful and free-associative celebration of commentary disguised as nonsense in “Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland.”

Based on Carroll's children's book, this production, directed by Norm Johnson, revives Andre Gregory's 1970 collaboration with his 10-person NYU theatre group, The Manhattan Project. Gregory had dissociated himself from mainstream theater in favor of avant-garde projects, and Cornell's version of his version of “Alice” adds its own flourishes while respecting his vision as well as, in portions, the original text.

The main story elements of “Alice's Adventures in Wonderland” are present (the mad tea party, the croquet match, etc.), as well as a few from “Through the Looking-Glass” (Humpty Dumpty's speech, the White Knight's antics). Much of the dialogue, though, is digressive and full of juicy puns and semantic dissection, so it can be befuddling to track what's happening when a scene transition first occurs.

Amanda Idoko leads the diverse ensemble as a naïve but vocal Alice; the rest of the actors (Jeffrey Guyton, Tyler Herman, Zach Mast, Natasha Pendleton, and Ariel Reid) each have a chance to shine - and do so with passion and joyful commitment, apparent in their intense physicality throughout - as one of several characters in the odyssean narrative. All the players draw upon improvisational roots for the high-spirited and often absurd pantomime involved in much of the action.

Johnson, a first-time Cornell director, hurls the cast in all directions (including upward) and even moves the mobile elements of Christa Seekatz's sparse but highly practical set design about the stage as well. The characters, clad in patchwork pants and long-tailed velvet jackets, like period clothing with a clownish twist (Lisa Boquist, costume design), swing inflatable carnival-prize gavels and cart around a staircase-cum-closet for silly but hands-on effect.

The most striking element of this “Alice” is the partially live, partially prerecorded videography by video artist Rachel Katz. A few TV screens and a projector adorn the walls; during important scenes, Katz either ventures out with a camera to show the cinematic point of view of someone inside the onstage chaos (a rare treat for an audience), or she plays a clip with forced perspective or special video effects to add a (sometimes psychedelic) visual punch to an especially weird occurrence. Most of the sound effects (Warren Cross, sound design) are provided by the cast's blowing kazoos and voicing other vocal tricks.

“Alice” is a pleasure for anyone, not just Theatre of the Absurd aficionados. Probably the only time the action slows is during the White Knight's Dylan-esque performance of a song that he wrote, but he warns at first that it'll be long-- and even while he sings, the glaze of comedy shines as he treks through a range of convincing emotion while spouting an assemblage of ludicrous lyrics.

That dedication to stream-of-consciousness storytelling is where comparison to “Hair” shows up (besides that they both speak an appreciation of “long, beautiful hair”); the lack of control felt in a wartime era mirrors the unstoppable bending of reality that Johnson found in Gregory's interpretation of Alice's illogicality. But political suggestion is where the comparisons end; the only time “Alice” gets directly political is during the “caucus race” (purportedly the best means of drying off): A few of the characters imitate the current presidential hopefuls but avoid decrying anyone.

Just as there's no telling whether Carroll's nonsensical story was at all influenced by drugs or a psychologically troubled subtext, we'll never know what he would have thought of this type of rendition of his work--though Gregory and Johnson certainly hold true to the deliberate absurdity of Alice's tale. And as this production proves, there will always be some thoughtful counsel found in other characters' responses to Alice's naivete. “I can't believe that!” she declares. The advice she's given? “Take a deep breath and try again.”

“Alice in Wonderland” runs through Saturday, Feb. 10 at the Cornell Schwartz Center for the Performing Arts. Call 254-ARTS for more information.

"Bed No Breakfast"

Theatre review
"Bed No Breakfast" at the Kitchen Theatre
Ithaca Times
January 23, 2008
786 words
"Light done right"

full text here

Light done right
By: Mark Tedeschi
01/23/2008

Brett Bossard, Jessica Flood, Tony Simione, Dan Kiely, Erica Steinhagen, Norma Fire and Jessica Carr in ‘Bed No Breakfast.’ (Photo provided)
"Bed No Breakfast," written and directed by Rachel Lampert. Music by Larry Pressgrove, lyrics by Rachel Lampert. Set by Steve TenEyck, costumes by Hannah Kochman, lighting by Brian Prather. Starring Norma Fire, Brett Bossard, Jessica Flood, Tony Simione, Dan Kiely, Erica Steinhagen, and Jessica Carr. Stage Manager, Stephen A. Wagner, Associate Director, Jesse Bush.

You have to go too far to find out how far you can go," deadpans Mrs. L. (Fire), the slouching, sagacious, old-lady proprietor of a B&B in Michigan's snow-encapsulated Upper Peninsula. She offers these "little sayings" intermittently in conversations with her guests, and the initial responses are almost always an awkward but thoughtful silence. Some of her maxims are borrowed, we find out, and others are her own; some are playful, others cynical, but all coax a "Hey, that's sort of true!" realization.

Her snippets of wisdom reveal a fondness for dry wordplay as well as a veiled desire to help people - to encourage them to unwind, to make them laugh, to stir their thoughts. Bed No Breakfast, the Kitchen Theatre's first production of 2008, does all of that to its audience. Also a world premiere musical by writer/director/lyricist Rachel Lampert, Bed No Breakfast refreshes as it calms.

As usual, there's a blizzard in the U.P., and six random folks have no choice but to seek shelter at Mrs. L's establishment. She voices disdain at the unexpected company, but denies entry to none. TenEyck's cozy set is mostly her living room, a nice little place with a sofa, a card table, a cluttered bookshelf, a wood stove, and ample room for candles, since the place is completely "off the grid." The candlelight/natural light cycle of several nights allows for some fluid blue-to-yellow changes in the overall homey feel of Prather's lighting design.

The first guests are Will (Bossard) and Marla (Flood), a yuppie, married couple considering divorce who tell the others they're an unmarried couple considering marriage. Their room is to one side of the set, so we can see how the awkwardness between them inflates once they're alone.

Next, there are the lone travelers: Henry (Tony Simione), an enthusiastic accountant who is less shy than but as nerdy as he claims, and Greta (Carr), a squirrelly college girl who takes it upon herself to emcee any ice breakers or parlor games she can think of.

That leaves just Jake (Kiely), a dreadlocked globetrotter, and his pregnant sister Chance (Steinhagen), a single woman raised on a farm, who arrive together but let everyone believe they're a married couple in order to avoid confusion. Naturally, that (perhaps gratuitous) decision only creates more confusion, but not too much - the story of Bed No Breakfast transcends the farcical in favor of a quieter story about six people who, without Mrs. L.'s unique brand of hospitality, might not otherwise look twice at one another, let alone develop a solid friendship.

The peculiar music in Bed No Breakfast, written by Pressgrove and directed by Montgomery, functions differently through the show. Sometimes the lyrics pronounce one or more characters' analysis of another, like in "How Bad Can It Be?", a song that gets too on-the-nose with lines like "There's something about him / He's so at ease." Other songs, such as "In The Middle of the Night," combine that internal monologue with actual conversation. "Charades," a protracted number in which the group begrudgingly commences a game of gesticulation to break up the tension and monotony, requires commitment to precise timing; because of the actors' exciting delivery, at the climax you'll become as invested in the game as the characters are.

Most of the tranquil slower songs captivate just as well as the more upbeat numbers. "Time," in particular, includes crisp harmonies and a home-hitting message of enjoying when time is ample, a real feat for the characters who can think about little else than when the state road will be reopened so they can leave. "All About the Ride" is less gripping - the imagery is nice, but its lyrics lack the variety present in, say, "A Second Honeymoon."

Fire has probably the least powerful voice (and Flood the most), but that's a flaw easy to look past; her character's subtle style has its own power that comes from understatement married with a tinge of mystery. When she speaks, attention locks on: "Dinner will be done by 8... and begun by 6." That means dinner is at 6pm exactly, but she's joking about being so insistent. Or is she?

Some characters float in and out of likeability (don't worry, they realize their flaws like any good comedic personas), but all come from dissimilar backgrounds; each of their contributions to the collective group offers a distinct and interesting flair. The all-around success of this show lies in its relaxed suggestion: Step back and appreciate what surrounds you, no matter where you are, who you're with, or what you plan to do next. I'm a sucker for light done right, and the Kitchen should be proud of Bed No Breakfast.