The seventh annual Berkshire Theatre Critics Association Awards, known as the Berkies took place this week, where a total of 27 awards in 22 categories were presented for shows that were produced between Oct. 1, 2022 and Sept. 30, 2023 at theaters in and around the Berkshires.
The Sally and Robert Sugarman Award for a world premiere of a new play or musical was presented to playwright Mark St. Germain for The Happiest Man on Earth, produced by Barrington Stage Company. Kenneth Tigar’s performance in St. Germain’s play as concentration camp survivor Eddie Jaku earned him the award for outstanding solo performance.
Winners were announced Monday, Nov. 13, in ceremonies at Zion Lutheran Church on First Street, hosted by BTCA president J. Peter Bergman and Macey Levin.
From left, Louis E. Davis, Jonathan Feuer and Renee Elizabeth Wilson in the world premiere of Psalmayene 24’s “Monumental Travesties,” by Mosaic Theater Company. (Chris Banks)
What says ally-ship quite like a White man with Black Lives Matter emblazoned on his tighty whities? It’s a question you’ve probably never thought of asking. But playwright Psalmayene 24 nevertheless seeks to answer it — er, cheekily — in “Monumental Travesties,” the entertainingly transgressive comedy getting a world premiere by D.C.’s Mosaic Theater Company.
Psalmayene 24 (nee Gregory Morrison) has written an absurdist three-character satire poking fun at all the pieties about race, especially as espoused by White liberals looking for absolution from their Black friends and associates. The subject is as ripe for ribbing today as was sending up Archie Bunker’s bigotry on “All in the Family” in the 1970s. Some of Psalmayene’s plot contrivances, in fact, reflect the blatantly cringe-making pivots of vintage sitcoms.
But the conventions of bygone TV comedy provide a surprisingly safe space for a subject around which thoughtful people still tread lightly (even if Psalmayene and Reginald L. Douglas, his skillful director at the Atlas Performing Arts Center, might rethink the 90-minute play’s ending, which lands with a confusing thud).
“I grew up in a house that used to be a stop on the Underground Railroad!” protests Jonathan Feuer’s Adam, the overbearing White neighbor desperate to establish his worthiness to the Black couple (Louis E. Davis and Renee Elizabeth Wilson) next door. It is in the becoming D.C. home of Davis’s Chance and Wilson’s Brenda — brightly rendered by set designer Andrew R. Cohen — that “Monumental Travesties” takes place. And that’s where the story begins when Chance, a local activist/performance artist, bursts in the front door, bearing the head of Abraham Lincoln.
A real-life controversy inspires the mechanics of “Monumental Travesties”: Chance has severed Lincoln’s head from the Emancipation Statue in D.C.’s Lincoln Park, a monument dedicated in 1876 that in recent years has been decried as a humiliating depiction of White savior mentality. (Eleanor Holmes Norton, D.C.’s delegate in Congress, has introduced legislation to have it removed.) The statue features a godlike Lincoln astride a kneeling, formerly enslaved man in a loincloth — his servile gratitude could not be more apparent.
Renee Elizabeth Wilson and Louis E. Davis in Mosaic Theater Company’s “Monumental Travesties,” directed by Reginald L. Douglas. (Chris Banks)
The giant head, by props designer Deb Thomas, sits on Chance and Brenda’s coffee table like an emblem of history’s ossified portrait of slavery from a White perspective; Chance’s vandalism is part of his campaign to “deconstruct symbols of White supremacy.” At one point, he enlists the compliant Adam in reversing the postures of the statue, having Adam prostrate himself before Chance in his living room. “So this is what it feels like, huh,” Chance remarks, “being White in America?”
The sharpest junctures of “Monumental Travesties” involve Chance and Brenda bearing witness to Adam’s outrageously self-serving platitudes. He’s so evolved, he insists, that he considers himself “un-White,” whatever that means, and so attuned to the injustices against people of color that he can recite from memory testaments to the indigenous Anacostan people on whose land his pricey townhouse sits. Chance and Brenda are not, for their part, above using Black victimhood to gain social and economic advantage: Brenda, for instance, concocts for Adam a shameful lie about a relative’s murder to explain the money she got to buy the house. (The truth, Psalmayene 24 implies, would be harder for a White person to believe.)
What’s also implicit in “Monumental Travesties” is the notion that conscientious people both Black and White still have to “act” for each other, that what they say in each other’s presence is a varnished version of what they really think. (Although the dramatist also points out that Brenda and Chance harbor problems and secrets, too, that they’re not willing to confront.) Chance’s absconding with Lincoln’s detached head is, in a sense, a cut to the chase about race: Talk isn’t good enough, he’s declaring, not even about the father of emancipation. Only action matters.
Davis, Wilson and Feuer demonstrate their acumen concerning broad comedy; their roles are archetypes, somewhat short of three dimensions, much the way sitcom characters are defined by a single trait recycled in one episode after another. Costume designer Moyenda Kulemeka gives pleasing pizazz to Brenda’s outfits, particularly the historic garb devised for the play’s final movement, when Brenda introduces another factual detail that complicates Chance’s facile rationale for his crime.
Under Douglas’s guidance, the actors amiably navigate the plot turns, which become ever crazier. The dramatist packs in so many curveballs that some are inevitably going to be wild pitches. (“Monumental Travesties” has to be the first play to use the brain fog resulting from long covid as a pivotal narrative point.) But even with some bumps, Psalmayene has paved a way for comedy to be another dramatic tool for understanding.
Monumental Travesties, by Psalmayene 24. Directed by Reginald L. Douglas. Set, Andrew R. Cohen; lighting, Alberto Segarra; costumes, Moyenda Kulemeka; sound Nick “the 1da” Hernandez. About 90 minutes. Through Oct. 8 at Atlas Performing Arts Center, 1333 H St. NE. mosaictheater.org.
On Site Opera presented the world premiere of Lisa DeSpain’s Song of the Nightingale Friday in Brooklyn Commons. Pictured are Bernard Holcomb (The Curator), Hannah Cho (The Nightingale) and Chrystal E. Williams (The Collector). Photo: Fadi Kheir/Brookfield Properties
The grandiosity of opera culture—the stars, the spectacle, the stage machinery—often obscures the form itself, which depends on the fine details of things like harmony, dynamics, and individual performances to succeed.
The great value in small opera companies like On Site Opera is in their smaller scale, and how chamber sized productions are all about intimate details and nuances. With On Site Opera, those all take on a greater significance because the company’s purpose is not to bring audiences into an opera house, but to bring opera to people, wherever they might be able to stage a performance.
On Site got their new season started early Friday afternoon in just such a fashion: their latest production, the world premiere of Lisa DeSpain’s Song of the Nightingale, debuted in the outdoor public courtyard at Brooklyn Commons, the first in a series of free performances open to the public (and the elements). The opera was commissioned and produced by On Site Opera and Brookfield Properties Arts & Culture.
The results were impressive all around. DeSpain’s opera is a graceful, elegantly crafted piece for a cast of five singers, a modern fairy tale about the collision between contemporary materialism and nature. It bears no relation to Stravinsky’s Chant du Rossignol other than sharing the songbird as a subject and being full of melodies. Outdoor performances are already difficult, so the energy, concentration, and skill of the singers when it was 89º (with dense humidity), and the five-piece ensemble conducted by Geoffrey McDonald was near unbelievable.
The opera, with a libretto by Melisa Tien, opens with The Collector (mezzo Chrystal E. Williams) and The Curator (tenor Bernard Holcomb), discussing her desires. She relies on him for taste, he relies on her for money—the sweetness of the music belies their toxic codependency. The music is highly lyrical throughout, so even when the Williams sang lines like “Everything wants to be gathered,” the sound of it makes her nearly sympathetic.
But this is a fairy tale, after all. The two head out to the woods in search of a “famous performer,” enchanted by the sounds of nature. They run into the Frog (soprano Nicole Haslett, in costume designer Kara Harmon’s smart outfit of green hiking vest and backpack canteen) and the Cow (bass-baritone Eliam Ramos), and eventually find The Nightingale (soprano Hannah Cho). They convince the Nightingale to come to the Collector’s home as a featured performer. As beautifully as she sings—and Cho was ringing and expressive in the character’s two enchanting arias—the city is not for her.
She is rescued by Frog and Cow, the former disguising herself as a mechanical, singing statue, who with the press of a button delivers “I sing for you / I sing for me / I sing this tune / For all eternity.” This ditty is one of the subtle strengths of the opera, it’s pretty but it eventually, and convincingly, grows jejune for the Collector, who realizes the emptiness of her pursuit (the Curator himself leaves the city for the woods, and happiness).
Photo: Fadi Kheir
DeSpain’s new opera hit all the marks with a fine shape and pace, and a chorus at the end that wrapped it all up in satisfying fashion. Performing in the round, all the singers were terrific, projecting through the elements via Beth Lake’s fine sound design, with excellent articulation and an unflagging feeling of fun and joy. This all happens at close quarters, and director Katherine M. Carter had the cast moving fluidly about and around the crushed gravel circle and the central tree (McDonald himself was peeking around the trees to throw cues to the singers).
This was a winning combination of a score that was a pleasure because of its modesty and direct communication, a skillful cast that brought out every last bit of feeling and loveliness in the music, and On Site Opera’s intelligence, flexibility, and commitment to engage the public.
Song of the Nightingale will be repeated 2 p.m. and 5:30 p.m. Saturday in Brooklyn Commons; September 21-23 at Manhattan West; and September 28-30 at Brookfield Place. brookfieldproperties.com
There are some stories so brutal and emotionally draining that you fear hearing them.
The thing about such painful memories is that when expressed as art they can become tales that are so eloquent you are not only thrilled that you experienced it, but you want everyone to share in the experience.
That is how I felt leaving the world premiere performance of “The Happiest Man on Earth” playing at Barrington Stage Company in Pittsfield, MA. I hope the play has a long life after it closes here on June 17.
And, if it does, I hope it stars Kenneth Tigar who gives one of those performances in which actor and character merge to the point where you cannot tell one from another. Rarely have I seen an actor so inhabit a character than Tigar does with Eddie Jaku.
“The Happiest Man on Earth” is adapted from the memoir of the same name telling the story of Jaku’s experience in Nazi concentration camps.
Though those experiences take up the bulk of the play, the take away is how Jaku could let go of his hatred of so many people who thrived on committing horrid inhumane acts, as well as exterminating 6-million Jews.
By the way, the biography was published when Jaku was 100 years old.
Because Tigar, directed by Ron Lagomarsino, tells of Jaku’s beatings in such an articulate manner, the loss of his parents, his many attempts to escape and the soul crushing betrayals and other in unimaginable experiences become real when he speaks.
Certainly you are affected by the horrors he experienced. But even as you are often in despair wondering how human beings can be so cruel to each other, you also are in awe at the tenacity and will-to-live exhibited by Jaku, and others like him.
You are also in awe of the devotion and love of family and friends that Jaku experienced. His courage and generosity of spirit makes his story inspirational on many levels.
However, if there is a disappointment in the work, it is that we learn little of Jaku’s post-war life. He tells us he became the happiest man on earth, and we believe it. Yet, it seems to come like a bolt from the blue when his first son was born.
What is missing is how the man used the rest of his life as a philosopher of peace, love and happiness.
The play by Mark St. Germain is simply brilliant. He is a familiar voice at Barrington Stage having had 14 of his plays staged there. This, to me, is his finest play. He condensed years into a speedy 90-minutes, which likely explains the omission of Jacu’s later day accomplishments.
Again, condensing might explain moments which seem confusing and lacking in detail. One minute he’s naked and ill, the next he has money for bathing. However, what is important is the playwright never loses the essence of Jaku’s torturous life or his indomitable spirit.
St. Germain not only makes vivid the attempted extermination of a culture, he emphasizes the reason such atrocities could happen.
While condemning the specific actions of the Nazis, St. Germain makes it clear that the regime was successful because it bred fear and distrust among friends and neighbors while giving the populace a common enemy to hate.
It should go without saying the Holocaust must never be forgotten. St. Germain and Tigar make it clear the economic and social problems that permitted the Holocaust to happen seem dangerously contemporary.
In the play, a world-wide distrust of other nationalities is shown when Belgians refuse to help the escapee because he is German and possibly a spy.
Jaku realizes he is rejected in Belgium because he is German. But in his native country the Germans deny his origins and define him as a Jew. This taught him that any reason for cultural hatred is artificial.
For the rest of his life Jaku lived by his father’s guide to life. “Family first. Family second, and last. And everyone is family.”
“The Happiest Man on Earth” plays at Barrington Stage in Pittsfield, MA through June 17. For tickets and schedule go to barringtonstageco.org
By Roxanne Ray – May 18, 2023 – for the IE Examiner
When the International Examiner last checked in with playwright and actor Justin Huertas and composer Steven Tran, they had collaborated on a pre-pandemic musical entitled The Last World Octopus Wrestling Champion and then had worked on a video concept album called Swimming during the lockdowns of COVID-19. Now, the pair is teaming up again to present a World Premiere musical at the Seattle Rep: Lydia and the Troll.
Our lead character Lydia is a singer-songwriter who is dissatisfied with her life, which motivates her to take some new risks, and not necessarily in a good way. “The villainous troll is something that lives inside all of us,” Huertas said. “It’s the voice that tells you that you don’t look good enough, you don’t write well enough, you’re not cool enough.”
And Huertas can relate. “We’re pinpointing that time in Lydia’s life where that voice is at its loudest, which is absolutely something I’ve gone through,” he shared. “The more time that passes and the more distance I have from that time in my own life, the more I understand how I got stuck there and how I pulled myself out.”
Tran also feels a kinship to Lydia. “The protagonist Lydia and I are both music producers, and we both have a deep appreciation and respect for electronic and pop music,” Tran relayed. “Inspired by the multimedia aspects, my vision for the music is to bring studio-quality pop and electronic production to Justin’s songs.”
Of course, since this is Seattle, the troll in the show is not just any troll, but is of course the Fremont Troll. “How many cities can boast a magical, mythical troll living under the interstate?” Huertas mused. “The concept of how that troll got there has been on my mind for years.”
But this time, Huertas and Tran expanded their creative team, to include co-creator and director Ameenah Kaplan. “Ameenah and I met working on a show out at Village Theatre, and I fell in love with her artistry and leadership,” Huertas recounted. “When we were searching for a director for Lydia & the Troll, it truly felt like destiny.”
Tran agreed. “Ameenah is incredibly inspiring as a director, and it’s her multimedia film vision that helped originally inspire my desires for this pop electronic score as well,” the composer said. “The rehearsal room feels vivid and alive, and the art being made is a very cool thing to be a part of.”
Sarah Russell, Kirsten DeLohr Helland, Ameenah Kaplaand in rehearsal for Seattle Rep’s The Other Season reading of Lydia and the Troll (2019) • Photo by Angela Nickerson
Just as important, Kaplan also empathizes with Lydia’s journey. “Ameenah is an incredibly physical director, and a large part of our collaboration has been figuring out the visuals and the physical life of this musical,” Huertas said. “It’s very rare that I have a director as imaginative and collaborative as her, and she’s brought a lot of her own life experiences to Lydia.”
That physicality has dovetailed with Tran’s goal for the music. “I wanted to highlight the kinetic and transformative themes of the script with a score equally as electrifying and modern,” he said. “My vision is to authentically bring the sound of the recording studio to the stage with pre-recorded and mangled background vocals, samples and foley, and hyper-produced electronic tracks, to create a musical tapestry that I am sure will contain sounds and genres that so far have not graced the musical theater stage.”
Working together, the trio has found the development of this new work to be organic. “My experience growing up here as an artist, growing through art, growing through relationships, all of that kind of told me what this story is about,” Huertas said. “I think when people meet Lydia, they’ll see those moments of growth that both Ameenah and I have gone through, and those are the changes we’ll see Lydia experience even as she’s hunted by a troll.”
This evolution is paralleled by Huertas and Tran’s progress as a musical-writing duo. “With each new project, it seems that we are continuing to push our boundaries and grow together as a musical team, both in terms of artistic scope as well as scale,” Tran said. “We’ve never done anything ‘traditionally,’ and Lydia and the Troll feels like a culmination so far of this sonic experimentation and artistic growth.”
Lydia and the Troll runs from May 5 to June 4 at the Seattle Repertory Theatre, 155 Mercer Street, Seattle.
