Fathom Events: Met's "La Cenerentola" A Trilling Performance

The Metropolitan Opera's "La Cenerentola"

The Metropolitan Opera HD broadcasts, from Fathom Events to a local theater near you, are winding down for the current season (with some encore presentations over the summer). Whether you’re a Bostonian or a Plymouthian, this is an offer you couldn’t refuse; for less than the cost of an entrée at your favorite restaurant (and equally nutritious, at least for the soul), at a fraction of the cost of the Lincoln Center venue, you have virtually front row seats to one of the world’s most respected opera companies. The HD season ends with Rossini’s “La Cenerentola”, which is much more widely known as Cinderella, but this isn’t the usual Grimm version (or, more precisely, the fairy tale by Charles Perrault that it’s based upon). Since first performed in Rome in 1817, it has been a special favorite of bel canto opera fans. It's arrived with every thrilling trill intact.

Those unfamiliar with the story of Rossini’s heroine may need a brief synopsis to distinguish this version from the more familiar fairy tale. Firstly, our heroine’s real name is Angelina (mezzo Joyce DiDonato), though she’s called Cenerentola by her stepsisters Clorinda (soprano Rachelle Durkin, a riot upon encountering a recalcitrant sofa) and Tisbe (mezzo Patricia Risley). Angelina lives with them in the castle of their father Don Magnifico (baritone Alessandro Corbelli). The tutor of the kingdom’s Prince, the philosopher Alidoro (bass-baritone Luca Pisaroni) arrives, disguised as a beggar, and only Cenerentola gives him food and drink. A bit later, the prince himself, Don Ramiro (tenor Juan Diego Florez), arrives dressed as a servant, to check out prospective brides. His valet, Dandini (baritone Pietro Spagnoli), follows also in disguise (as the prince), whom the rest of the family fawn over. (If you’re keeping score, that’s three characters in varying disguises). The family is all invited to supper at the palace, even Cenerentola, with whom the real prince is smitten. She leaves the palace telling the prince that if he wants her he must find her. Later, during a storm, the prince’s carriage breaks down outside Don Magnifico’s castle, and Cenerentola and the prince reaffirm their love for one another. They are married at the palace, and Cenerentola asks to be acknowledged by Don Magnifico as his daughter. She invites her family to join them in living in the palace, swearing off those days of weeping and sweeping by the fireplace.

There are no mice, no transformed pumpkins, no fairy godmothers, and no glass slippers. (Though there are an angelic tutor, a couple of bracelets, and a levitating elevator). All of the magical elements of the fairy tale are gone, but this surreal, effective production pays homage to Magritte. What magic there is, however, is a great deal of very beautiful (and challenging) music, as sung here by a stellar cast. DiDonato’s Angelina is a special treat from her opening aria (“una volta c’era un rè ”), to her duet with Diego Florez’s prince (“un soave non so che”). Diego Florez, having missed several previous performances due to illness, is in fine form once again, and deserved the lengthy ovation he received mid-act. The ensemble shone in the sextet, “Siete voi?”, as well as in the final chorus “tutto cangia a poco a poco” about the fact that everything in life changes and that it’s fortune’s little joke to change sadness into joy. Throughout, the Metropolitan’s Orchestra played well under the controlled and balanced direction of Principal Conductor Fabio Luisi. The Production by Cesare Lievi, Set and Costume Design by Maurizio Balò , Stage Direction Eric Einhorn, and Choreography by Daniela Schiavone were all up to the Met’s usual standard, as was the Metropolitan Opera (male) Chorus under their chorus master Donald Palumbo. The production moved briskly, without undue speed, with DiDonato (earlier described by her stepfather as “Venus of the ash can”) summing it up in glorious voice as the triumph of goodness and forgiveness.

The story, despite Rossini’s disdain for the more supernatural aspects of the source material, remains faithful to the legend’s basic charm, with a healthy dose of humor. This production of “La Cenerentola” is a visual delight, ending with the happy couple showered with rice, united atop a huge wedding cake. This was quite appropriate, as there was so much that was worth celebrating.

New Rep's "On the Verge": Can We Trek?

Paula Langton, Christine Hamel, Adrianne Krstansky & Benjamin Evett
(photo: Andrew Brilliant/Brilliant Pictures)
 

New Rep’s current production, “On the Verge”, may be the perfect presentation of the word “romp”. In this 1985 work by Eric Overmyer (better known as a television writer), the focus is on language as opposed to development of characters or plot. It’s the story of three female explorers (or “sister sojourners”, as they call themselves) in the late nineteenth century from “somewhere east of Australia and west of Peru” who set out in search of Terra Incognita in the Pacific, somehow becoming warped into 1955 and American pop culture. Previously escorted over glaciers and mountains, and through jungles, by men, now they are on their own, without any guides: no sherpas, no porters. With the momentous exhortation, “Let us trek”, they’re off and running, “whacking the bush” and observing numerous novelties such as “suburban charred meat festivals” and “moose mousse”, encountering countless alliterative anecdotal anachronisms, like incorrigible dirigibles and imaginative native images. Their wise and witty banter borders on the Stoppardian. They are fascinated by the mysterious interior (of the world both without and within). What they are about is wondrous wordplay. And as one of them says, “I have seen the future, and it is slang”.

This trio of divas includes Mary Baltimore (Paula Langton), Fanny Cranberry (Adrianne Krstansky ) and Alexandra Cafuffle (Christine Hamel). Mary is the oldest, a spinster who is preoccupied with mating rituals, “anthropological smut”. Fanny, the only one who is married, as well as conservative, disapproves of many “immoral” things, such as women wearing trousers. Alexandra (whose last name means a commotion), the youngest, tends to malapropisms and loves novelty, especially new words. Each engages in “osmosing”, that is, gathering information from the future. Along the way they meet seven characters ranging from Alphonse (with a German accent, and not what he at first seems), to a Yeti (in a brief mute walk-on with much growling and roaring), a Gorge Troll (a Brando-like beatnik who writes poetry), Mr. Coffee (the angel of death), Gus (a teenage ball player in a place called Peligrosa who directs ladies to Nicky’s Bar & Grill) and finally Nicky Paradise (a lounge lizard who owns a resort for swingers). Fanny also dreams of Grover (her shy banking husband). All three actresses are mesmerizing, as are all seven actors (that is, all played by the incomparably versatile Benjamin Evett).

One will find no dramatic resolution of conflict here, but mere frivolity and fantasy. If you love this sort of wordplay, you’ll be delighted despite the monochromatic optimism. What evil there is in the world, in the end, is there “to thicken the plot”. Like three Alices in Wonderland, they take us on an imaginative journey accompanied by manners and machetes, always with a pleasantly pithy point. As Mary says, “We’re not short on pith”. It doesn’t have much in the way of earthshaking messages, except some gleefully subversive feminism. Coherent drama it’s not; it‘s less a play than it is a play on words, and it could use some trimming, especially in the second act. One cut is already evident in the absence of the character of Madame Nhu (a purveyor of fortune cookie wisdom, most likely cut since it was criticized in earlier productions for its politically incorrectness for Asian Americans). Still, the work is truly funny, as ably directed by the company’s Artistic Director Jim Petosa. The technical crew are all firmly on board, from the wonderfully wacky Scenic Design by Christina Todesco (mismatched chairs and lots of industrial strength bubble wrap), to the amusing Costume Design by Nancy Leary, to the complicated Lighting Design by Mary Ellen Stebbins, and subtle Sound Design by David Remedios.

To love this play you have to appreciate the ladies’ “nostalgia for the future”, and marvel along with them at the “residue from the future”, such as Cool Whip. The last scene of the play is titled “The Geography of Yearning”, as Mary warns that “theatre threatens to disintegrate into anthropological kinship studies”. As the playwright states elsewhere, paraphrasing the French surrealistic author André Breton, “perhaps the imagination is on the verge of recovering its rights.” Go along for the ride and you’ll be transported. Bring too much baggage to this play (“you must carry what you collect”) and you may not enjoy it at all. For those theatregoers with a love of language, as the ladies would have put it, “Via con Dios“; you’ll have a fabulous time in both senses of the term. In the final words of these intrepid pioneers, “that’s not annoying at all."

Zeitgeist's "Good Television": It's Unreal

Jenny Reagan (Brittany) & Christine Power (Connie)
(photo: Joel W. Benjamin)
 

Zeitgeist Stage Company’s current production of “Good Television”, the New England premiere of a play by first-time author Rod McLachlan, might seem to be an oxymoron at first, but the title refers not to the quality of a television series but the good intentions (or lack thereof) of the people creating it. McLachlan writes of what he knows, as his wife was a field producer for the highly successful Arts and Entertainment Network reality show “Intervention”, which ran for thirteen seasons. With expert Direction and Set Design by the company’s Producing Artistic Director David Miller, this is an impressive first work by a very promising new playwright (and actor). Like most if not all so-called reality television, the programs are as un-scripted and spontaneous as WWE (that’s World Wrestling Entertainment, to the uninitiated). Such broadcasts are easy targets given their blatant lack of authenticity, but the unreality of such fare isn’t McLachlan’s focus. What he’s presenting is the complicated dilemma of a well-meaning producer whose stated idealistic intentions for successful rehab come under scrutiny when the goals of the network are far from any idealism. “Rehabilition”, the series in question, has three million viewers a week, and is coming under pressure to provide twenty-two episodes in the same time frame and with the same resources as prior seasons of fourteen. Added to this is the fact that the network powers-that-be aren’t as interested in treatment as they are in what makes for good television, as in ratings.

Ratings, like elections, have consequences. No one knows this better than producer Connie (Christine Power) who knows the territory from personal experience. She’s arranged with South Carolina housewife Brittany (Jenny Reagan) to record the story of her brother Clemson, “ev’rybody calls me Clemmie” (Benjamin Lewin), and his five-year meth addiction. Her motivation, she claims, is a positive outcome from rehab, but this is challenged by newly-hired Tara (Tasia Jones). Connie’s boss Bernice (Shelley Brown) supports her, but is about to jump ship for a job offer with Fox. Her replacement Ethan (William Bowry) has no illusions about outcomes other than maintaining the popularity of the series; according to him, “carnage and wreckage make great T.V.” He even offers to come along to the shoot before he’s on payroll (one of the more implausible plot points) and ends up assaulting Clemmie’s litigious older brother Mackson (Olev Aleksander) in easily the least credible moment of the play. Meanwhile, the unexpected arrival of Clemmie’s father MacAddy (Bill Salem) further complicates matters, until the “big reveal” (not to be disclosed here) which is partially predictable. We are left with unresolved issues for several characters, not the least being Connie herself. Is it possible to change people’s lives through television by “showing the truth”, as Ethan puts it? Are the participants “selling their life rights for detox” as Mackson sees it? Is the “trade-out” of providing rehab rigged if the chosen addicts are qualified as “already destined for recovery”, as Tara charges?

These are but a few of the questions, both explicit and implicit, that the playwright raises. The cast of seven by and large meets the many demands of this ethical quandary. Power herself noted elsewhere that “You’re still controlling the story, even if you’re letting things evolve as they would naturally evolve…after the TV show is gone, how do they deal with it all after?” She’s very believable as the complicated center of the play, as are her cohorts Brown (providing some comic relief) and Jones (earnest and honest if naïve) and Bowry as the clueless new boss. Reagan makes the most of her character who could have been a stereotype. The same could be said for Lewin, moving and vulnerable, and the menacing Aleksander (perhaps too attractive for a stereotypical redneck). Salem’s character arrives too late and hastily to make enough impact, but he does what he can with an undeveloped role. Miller’s sets are clever and natural, as are the Lighting Design by Jeff Adelberg, the Costume Design by Jez Insalaco and the Sound Design by David Wilson. They all enhance the fascinating insights into one art form by another.

Whatever the future of this play and its playwright, which if there is any justice in this world should be successful, “reality” television will undoubtedly survive, given its enduring bottom-line results and its relatively inexpensive (well, all right, cheap) requirements. As Ethan correctly proclaims, “Television is always in charge”.

BLO's "I Puritani": Bellini with a Dollop of Caviar

Elvira (Sarah Coburn) & Arturo (John Tessier)
(photo: Eric Antoniou)

Without being too puritanical about it, to say that the libretto for Vincenzo Bellini‘s opera “I Puritani” strains credulity would be quite an understatement. The composer himself instructed his librettist Carlo Pepoli that this shouldn’t be a concern, as he was more interested in making beautiful music. And so he did, as evidenced by Boston Lyric Opera’s new production of Bellini‘s bel canto masterpiece. Conducted by the company’s music director David Angus, with Stage Direction by Crystal Manich, this is a thoroughly enjoyable and immersive piece despite the incongruities of its plotting. While it’s often performed in three acts with two intermissions, this version is presented with its three acts done in two parts with only one intermission, a sensible decision given the length of the first act and the relative brevity of the other two acts. Not only does this make for a shorter evening, it also makes dramatic sense of what survives the nonsensical dramaturgy. It does present a challenge for the singers in an already daunting score both in its length and its vocal demands. It’s one of the reasons this opera is not done more often. Suffice it to say that, in the right hands, Bellini’s tenth (and final) opera is as much a delight to hear today as it must have been in 1835 at its Parisian premiere. Happily, opera lovers are truly blessed with this particular cast, but more about that later.

First, for those needing a refresher, here is a brief synopsis. Based on Ancelot and Saintine’s “Les Têtes Rondes et les Cavaliers”, the story takes place in the mid-1600’s in Plymouth (England, that is) after the execution of King Charles I, with the loyalists (Cavaliers) still fighting the Puritans (Roundheads). The opera centers around Elvira (soprano Sarah Coburn) and her impending wedding. She had been initially promised to Riccardo (baritone Troy Cook), but subsequently given a dispensation to marry Arturo (tenor John Tessier) by her father Gualtiero (bass Liam Moran), despite her Puritan background and Arturo’s status as a Cavalier. Riccardo, quite understandably overwhelmed with grief, is consoled by his friend, the Puritan soldier Bruno (tenor Omar Najmi). Elvira’s father reports that he will be unable to attend the ceremony since he will be accompanying the late king’s wife Enrichetta (soprano Chelsea Basler) to prison and probable death. On learning this, Arturo sneaks Enrichetta out of the castle disguised as his bride. When he disappears, Elvira misunderstands and goes mad. (This is Bellini, after all, and a Victorian opera). Her Uncle Giorgio (bass-baritone Paul Whelan) tries to support her, convincing Riccardo to overcome his desire for revenge. When Arturo returns, though accused of treachery, Elvira begins to understand and pardons him, having received news of the defeat of her enemies via a sort of “deus ex littera”, seemingly paving the way for their wedding. (This production ends uniquely, which may be a shock for those familiar with the piece). Never mind the absurdity of an impediment to marriage having been inexplicably removed, or a subsequent (and equally inexplicable) pardon. As Bellini himself attested, he was more interested in the lyricism of the music than the coherence of the plot.

Now about the cast: That dollop of caviar refers to the rare talents of these singers who are wonderfully capable of delivering such delicious coloratura. The reunion of Coburn and Tessier (lauded for their part in BLO‘s “Barber of Seville” two seasons ago) was a stroke of genius, as they have obvious chemistry together and again prove their virtuosity, especially in Arturo’s paean to his prospective bride, “a te, o cara, amor talora”, as well as his troubadour song, “corre a valle, corre a morte”, and in Elvira’s mad scene aria, “qui la voce sua soave”. The entire opera can be a breathtaking (almost literally) endurance contest for the singers, especially the lead soprano (so much so that by all rights many feel the opera should have been entitled “Elvira”). While they may not sustain the highest notes as long as some singers in beloved studio recordings, they impress with their passion in character. Not only is their sound lovely, but their diction is estimable; one needn’t be multilingual to appreciate the beauty of the Italian language. Whelan’s Georgio is a commanding presence, and both Moran and Cook provide strong support. Najmi and Basler, both part of the Emerging Artists program with the company, are fine in supporting roles. (Basler will be featured next season in the Boston premiere of Frank Martin’s “The Love Potion”). The chorus, except for a rough entrance at one point, did great work, though the women in the ensemble were at times involved in some rather odd movement. The Set Design by John Conklin, composed of stylized fragments and moving panels, was serviceable, aided immensely by the effective Lighting Design by Paul Hackenmueller. Angus conducted with a firm understanding of the text and the orchestra responded in kind.

This was, in the end, a throughly enjoyable presentation, musically and emotionally (given the libretto’s shortcomings) of this rarely performed Bellini gem. It’s a production no serious opera lover should miss.

Goodspeed's "Damn Yankees": You Gotta Have Art

The Red Sox in "Damn Yankees"
(photo: Diane Sobolewski)

Be careful what you wish for. We‘re all familiar with the phrase, yet we constantly discover examples of hastily-made wishes with unintended consequences. So it was for Faust in the legendary fifteenth century German tale when he sold his soul to the devil in exchange for limitless knowledge and pleasure; so it is also for the hero of the Tony-winning musical “Damn Yankees”, wherein one very average Joe (claiming to be from Hannibal, Mo.) trades up (then down) for a limited-time-only run as a baseball hero. This musical version of the legend bowed in 1955, with Music and Lyrics by Richard Adler and Jerry Ross (who died just six months after the opening), and Book by George Abbott and Douglas Wallop (with an un-credited assist from Richard Bissell, who just the season before had co-written “Pajama Game” with Abbott), based on Wallop’s novel “The Year the Yankees Lost the Pennant”. Conceived largely as a dance show, and presenting Gwen Verdon in her first starring role, the original ran over a thousand performances, winning a total of eight Tony Awards including Best Musical. A 1958 film (wisely) kept most of the original cast intact although it (unwisely) miscast a non-singer, Tab Hunter, as the hero, with decidedly mixed results. A revival in 1994 with Bebe Neuwirth and Victor Garber (with Jerry Lewis for part of the run) was more successful. At its heart are two warm and bittersweet love stories, for a spouse and for The Game.

The current production at Goodspeed Opera House has been updated and adapted (subtitled “The Red Sox version”) by Joe DiPietro (known for his libretti at Goodspeed for “They All Laughed” and “All Shook Up”). It was a brilliant choice, making the plot topical and the newly minted jokes hilariously hip. As directed here by Daniel Goldstein and choreographed by Kelli Barclay, its locale is 1955 Boston; thus this must be the first musical in history with scenes at Fenway Park. (The show begins with a scrim with a stylized view of what suspiciously resembles a certain Green Monstah). The Boyds, Joe (James Judy) and Meg (Ann Arvia) are watching a Red Sox/Yankees game on television. Suddenly, Joe is visited by one fiery character, Applegate (David Beach), who makes him an offer he can’t refuse. He transforms Joe into the considerably younger Joe Hardy (Stephen Mark Lukas) who will save the Sox if he sells his soul. With Applegate‘s henchwoman Lola (Angela Reda) he clearly intends to prolong the terms of the contract. Also in the cast are (the voice of) veteran Sox Announcer Joe Castiglione, Coach Van Buren (Ron Wisniski), sports reporter Gloria (Lora Lee Gayer), Sister (Kristine Zbornik), and Doris (Allyce Beasley). The Ensemble, who deserve special mention for their dancing skills, consists of Timothy Hughes, Danny Lindgren, Michael Mendez, Victor J. Wisehart, Sean Ewing, Joven Calloway, Ryan Cavanaugh, Steve Geary and Alfie Parker, Jr. They’re quite a team.

The cast is all terrific, but special mention should be made of the charismatic Lukas and the lusciously sexy Reda, with abs and curves to spare, respectively. And speaking of abs, there’s a wonderfully funny, even inspired, shower scene that won’t be spoiled here. It’s also worth noting that Beach ignites the stage in his “eleven o’clock” number. The supporting players Beasley and Zbornik continually bring the house down, even at intermission (again, no spoilers here). It never ceases to amaze what wonders can be created on such a relatively small stage; surely the Red Sox have never danced this well.

Truth be told, the score is not the most memorable ever composed, although it does boast a few standouts, such as the seductive “Whatever Lola Wants”, the rousing “Those Were the Good Old Days”, and the barbershop quartet “(You Gotta Have) Heart”. Other tunes serve as accompaniment to dance numbers, such as “A Little Brains, A Little Talent” and “Shoeless Joe from Hannibal Mo.” (The somewhat dated number, “Who’s Got the Pain?”, was dropped). The remaining songs are pleasant, such as “Six Months Out of Every Year”, “Goodbye Old Girl”, “A Man Doesn’t Know”, “The Game”, “Near to You”, and “Two Lost Souls”. What makes this show is the dancing, as well as the production values; to overcome its relatively weak score, it needs a lot of theatrical art to succeed . With expert Music Direction by Michael O’Flaherty, in his twenty-third season at Goodspeed, and the truly fine Orchestrations by Dan Delange, as well as the ingenious Scenic Design by Adrian W. Jones, the clever Costume Design by David C. Woolard, the complex Lighting Design by Brian Tovar, and the effective Sound Design by Jay Hilton, this “Damn Yankees” is a well balanced success.The Boston accents may be (intentionally) a bit thick, but it works, even if you have to keep an ear sharpened for such lines as “I find your question (where on earth did you find him?) mundane”. Ouch.

If you’re not familiar with Goodspeed, where such shows as “Annie”, “Man of LaMancha” and “Shenandoah” were given birth, you ought to be. This is the forty-sixth (and last) year in the producing career of the legendary Michael Price. The venue is near enough to Boston to attend a matinee, or better yet to make it an overnight getaway. In this localized “Damn Yankees”, the devil is a Yankees fan (but then we knew that), which, as Sister might put it, is a wicked good idea, or as Applegate himself might say, it’s a helluva show.

Huntington's "Becoming Cuba": Paella with Rum and Coke

Brandon Barbosa, Juan Javier Cardenas, Christina Pumariega,
 Christopher Tarjan & Rebecca Soler in "Becoming Cuba"
(photo: T. Charles Erickson)

Sometimes a rare evening of theater is like a healthy helping of paella, filled with nourishing, sometimes indescribably exotic ingredients, expertly mixed and seasoned. “Becoming Cuba”, a new work by Huntington Theatre Company Playwright-in-Residence Melinda Lopez (whose play “Sonia Flew” was presented by Huntington in 2004) is the ultimate theatrical buffet. Having had its world premiere last year at San Diego’s North Coast Repertory Theatre, this much-revised version is directed by Huntington’s Associate Producer M. Bevin O’Gara. In its present state, it’s a fascinating amalgam of forms, part comedy as well as tragedy, part naturalistic as well as magically realistic. It really defies pigeon-holing, somehow managing successfully to be all things to all men, and, especially, women. In a very subversive way, it even becomes a feminist statement about an atypically vocal protagonist, a widow facing change, both within herself and without, and how events and emotions produce an inescapable metamorphosis in her life. In many unexpected ways, this is an unforgettable triumph for Lopez.

It’s the story of the Cuban widow Adela (Christina Pumariega) and her choices between family and country loyalty. Intensely personal and passionate, it’s inspired by the playwright’s own great grandmother’s experiences. Due to Spain’s overtaxing of Cuba (and Puerto Rico) to fund war losses, Cuban revolutionaries proclaimed independence in 1895, supported by the countryside “campesinos”, leading to the Cuban War of Independence (known here in the U.S. as the Spanish-American War, though our involvement was quite late on the scene). By 1897, guerilla warfare and disease hinted at victory for the rebels, but the U.S. intervened anyway. A short year later, the U.S. and Spain signed the Treaty of Paris granting Cuban independence. Against this historical background, the fictional story of one family is explored.

In 1897 Cuba, Adela leaves the country home where her father, her half-brother Manny (Juan Javier Cardenas, doubling as the character of the Little Conquistador) and sister Martina (Rebecca Soler) were active in the rebellion against Spain. Adela heads for Havana, marries a Spanish pharmacist, and takes over his pharmacy when he’s killed in the war. Despite difficulty getting supplies due to a blockade of the harbor, she is unwilling at first to get involved in the rebellion. She has several visions (or ghosts or apparitions), such as folk hero Hatuey’s wife (Marianna Bassham, doubling as the noblewoman Fancy). Another pivotal character is that of the American journalist Richard Davis (Christopher Tarjan), based on real-life journalists such as Sylvester Scovel of The New York World, and Grover Flint and Richard Harding Davis of the New York Journal. Also appearing, doubling as the youths Chucho and Mambi, is Brandon Barbosa. At the beginning (and end) of the play, the Conquistador (Christopher Burns, doubling as Fancy’s husband Isidore) ominously proclaims: “Blood will have blood”, then refers to English as a “language of grunts and farts”. It’s just the first of many swings of words and moods in the play. All of the cast are at the top of their form, especially Pumariega in the central role of the evolving Adela; it’s impossible to take one’s eyes off her. It is she who describes thirty years of war as not a metaphor, but background noise. Near the end of the play, she admits that she is “becoming Cuban, I suppose”.

O’Gara’s direction, as in her previous work at SpeakEasy Stage with “Tribes” and “Clybourne Park”, is remarkable. The other technical credits are equally fine, including the impressive Scenic Design of the Havana pharmacy by Cameron Anderson, precise Costume Design by Andrea Hood, and Lighting Design by Yi Zhao and Sound Design by Arshan Gailus.

As Lopez has stated, the play questions whether freedom is something we all want. It deals with what happens when people awake to take action, and when the American intervention complicates affairs leading to “unintended circumstances”. After a hearty dose of theatrical paella, one might want to follow up with a restorative rum and coke, which of course goes by the name of “Cuba libre”.

New Rep's "Our Lady": It Gets Bitter

James Fluhr in "Our Lady"
(photo: Andrew Brilliant/Brilliant Pictures)

“Our Lady”, an intensely moving presentation of performance art now at New Rep in Watertown , is the creation of one James Fluhr, who conceived it, wrote the piece, and performs it. He even provided (with Courtney Nelson) the wonderful Scenic Design. If popcorn were being sold in the lobby, one suspects this multi-talented wunderkind would be out there popping. And “out there” he certainly is, in several meanings of the term, for this is an extraordinarily personal (as in autobiographical) self-described “fairy story” of one young gay man’s coming out. Asked to elaborate on his tale, he deemed it seductive, sparkling and stark, and it’s all of that. At ninety minutes with no intermission, it covers a remarkable bit of territory, with a journey by Fluhr (a recent graduate of Boston University) from his initial emergence to full-fledged and feathery defiance.

Along the way, Fluhr provides some terrific insights into the roles played in his development by his mother (a complex, truly nuanced Southern belle), his father (at first the object of his anger) and his late beloved lover Aspen. It’s a moving, often heartrending, progression, but the key to it all is how he accomplished it. The writing of this piece was the beginning of his road to inward and outer peace. To conquer the ignorance of “The Monster” that is the bigotry of his father and much of today’s world, he conjured up the power of “Our Lady of the Ashes”, rising up (and raising us up with her) like a phoenix, to heal and to hope. If at first his reaction is to get bitter (especially given the horrific reality of young gay suicides), Fluhr’s redemption in his own eyes as well as others starts with his admission that he still loves his father and remains proud of him despite his narrow-mindedness.

As fundamentally idiosyncratic as this work is, the play succeeds best when it transcends the personal and encompasses the greater world of being gay in a homophobic world. If the emphasis is first on the intimate look at one man’s fear of finding and fulfilling love, it morphs stunningly into a universal outcry for overcoming fears. It’s revelatory, as the current New Rep production, the second in a series of three plays (the others being “Tongue of a Bird” and “In Between”), as well as other play readings, that all together form the First Annual New Rep Black Box Festival. "Our Lady" is a promising continuation, due in large part to the contributions of Fluhr’s technical team, including the crucial Lighting Design by Dan Alaimo, fabulous Costume Design by Ameera Ali and Costume Construction by Chelsea Kerl, Sound Design by Yi-Chun “Iggy” Hung and mesmerizing Projection Design by Matthew Haber.

The greatest enemy of freedom is complacency; “Our Lady” raises us up from the comfortable to the confrontational. It’s a timely reminder, for those of us who live in a relatively liberal bubble (Saint Patrick’s Day parade ugliness aside) in our Commonwealth, that while much has been accomplished historically, much remains in the fight to gain the dignity and respect due all of us. Here we have an amazingly gifted actor and author to remind us once again: It gets better.