Trinity Rep's "Heidi Chronicles": Guarding the Chips

Angela Brazil in "Heidi Chronicles"
(photo: Mark Turek)

“The Heidi Chronicles”, a play by Wendy Wasserstein, was a watershed theatrical event when it premiered off-Broadway in November 1988, moving to Broadway a few months later. While it went on to win the Tony and Drama Desk Awards, as well as the Pulitzer Prize for Drama and ran over six hundred performances, it was the subject matter of the work that captured universal attention. Hailed as way ahead of its time, it was an on-point but gently skewering feminist event that has outlived its author, who tragically died too young (at only 55) in 2006. While Wasserstein had other successful plays such as “the Sisters Rosensweig”, “Isn't It Romantic” and “Uncommon Women and Others”, it is Heidi with her chronic wit who has so aptly endured, as evidenced in the current production by Trinity Rep. Humor is sometimes shrewdly effective in making cracks in glass ceilings, and this production is a lovely reminder of the power of theater to inform and entertain at one and the same time. Three decades later, this work, even while showing some creaks here and there, serves to rebuke us for not yet fulfilling its message.

The story of the titular art historian Heidi Holland (an excellent Angela Brazil) covers a twenty year span, from her high school years to her highly respected career. Each of two acts begins with a didactic prologue (presumably the “Heidi Chronicles” referred to towards the end of the play) about vastly neglected female painters. Along the way she encounters several characters who will become important to her over the two decades portrayed. At a high school dance with her friend Susan Johnston (Rachel Christopher) in 1965, she meets the closeted Peter Patrone (Charlie Thurston). Two years later she meets the other man destined to be a part of her whole life, Scoop Rosenbaum (Mauro Hantman) at a presidential campaign rally for Eugene McCarthy at which he, noticing her shyness, slyly asks if she is guarding the (potato) chips. Still later, she joins an encounter group, with Susan, run by radical feminist Fran (Anna Miles). Perhaps the best, and most devastatingly true, line belongs to Fran: “Every woman...has been taught that the desires and dreams of her husband, her son or her boss are much more important than her own”. Scoop chooses to marry below his aspirations, and Heidi eventually decides she doesn't need to be married in order to become a mother, somewhat reflecting the playwright's real life; it should also be noted that there are several humorous references to Brown University.

Brazil manages to convey the complex character that is Heidi, and both Thurston and Hantman play well off her, as does Christopher, especially as Heidi blossoms (or not). Also appearing in several roles are Ashley Monique Butler, Joe Wilson, Jr. and Rebecca Gibel (especially funny in interplay with Thurston, as talk show host April, though the scene itself is incredible in the bad sense of the term). All are in fine synch thanks to Director Vivienne Benesch. The minimalist Set Design by Lee Savage, Lighting Design by Dan Scully, Sound Design by Peter Sasha Hurowitz and evolving Costume Design by Tracy Christensen (with a recurring emphasis on changing shoe styles) all contribute to conveying a sense of the passages our heroine is making.

Benesch has commented that the play remains “fiercely relevant”. But while it's undeniably true that Wasserstein asks some serious questions (as we mature, how do our adult responsibilities affect our youthful ideals? Can one balance career and family? Is it OK to feel sad when our hopes are compromised?) that are still disappointingly evident in our culture today, the play itself frequently reveals how dated its writing is.. The emotionally fragile Heidi, in a famous Act Two monologue (superbly delivered by Brazil despite its excessive length), reveals in anecdotal form her feeling of being stranded, at the same time superior and yet worthless. Still, remarkably for a play dealing with such dated baby boomer issues as Vietnam, much of the playwright's targets are still fodder for discussion. There remain a few missteps, such as a talk show scene straining credulity, and some relatively lame lines (such as Scoop's “I never meant to hurt you”), but by and large the play still succeeds in moving us. As Heidi herself puts it, “all people have the right to fulfill their potential”; that is, as it might be put today, if roadblocks and glass ceilings don't prevent them. And Scoop notes near the end of the play, “America needs heroes”, and, when confronting how sad Heidi admits to being, “unhappy people who open doors usually are”. When he expresses the hope that his magazine, Boomer, will be his chronicle, he reminds her that her lectures were her way of putting women back into the narrative. Heidi ultimately finds hope for a more inclusive future in the daughter in her arms, “a heroine for the twenty-first” century.

There are others guarding those chips today, and we must let them fall where they may. Wasserstein herself may rest peacefully; contrary to her fears expressed through Heidi, her work, far removed from worthless, is funny, sad and superior.

Lyric's "Buyer and Cellar": Like Buttah

Phil Tayler in "Buyer and Cellar"
(photo: Mark S. Howard)

It was a summer night way back in 1964 that this critic first saw Barbra live in the musical “Funny Girl”. (If you have to ask “Barbra who?”, there's no need to proceed further). She was only 22 years old, and this was already her second Broadway musical, her first lead in a show after quite a triumph in a supporting role two seasons prior in “I Can Get It for You Wholesale”. It was also her last lead in a live theatrical production, as Hollywood beckoned, and stage fright took care of the rest. Her turn in “Funny Girl” was the stuff of legend, infecting most of us audience members with that persistent incurable condition known as diva-ticulitis. Hers was easily the greatest display of theatrical presence ever.

Until now. Or, at least, there's now a close second in Phil Tayler. In the current Lyric Stage production of “Buyer and Cellar”, a one-person play by Jonathan Tolins, this locally beloved actor gives the diva a run for her money. As Alex More, he's the sole employee in “The Mall of Malibu”, owned by that certain megastar known simply here as Barbra. Inspired by her coffee table book, “My Passions for Design”, it's a non-stop roller coaster of laughs. La Streisand set the bar high in the Broadway and film versions of “Funny Girl” with the unequivocal song “I'm the Greatest Star”. Tayler states that as a gay man (his character Alex, that is) worshiping her is, after all, “part of my birthright, my heritage” and warns us we'll have to do our parts imagining this stellar cellar designer; he suggests “you can fill in the rest”.

Not to worry, folks. His tour de farce performance goes down “like buttah” (with apologies to SNL). This shouldn't surprise. Tayler is no stranger to Lyric Stage audiences, having excelled in about a dozen or so past productions for the company, including “Follies”, “Kiss Me Kate”, “Working”, “On the Town”, “City of Angels”, “Stones in His Pockets”, “Avenue Q” and “Sweeney Todd”. This is to say that we already knew how prolific and versatile this triple threat (acting, singing, dancing) Boston Conservatory grad was, or so we thought we knew. That was before he took on, in this play, portraying Oprah, James Brolin, Beatrice Arthur and.....yes, even Barbra. (He's perhaps best as his boyfriend Barry, a much broader queen). He's got the diva nailed (right down to slightly longer-than-normal nails), as well as all the other characters, and his timing in every one of them is impeccable. It's a joy to watch his every facial expression, his fluid movements, that rather naughty glint in his eye, betraying how much fun he's having performing this role. But not as much as we are. It's extremely rare to experience a show that literally consists, as noted above, of non-stop laughs. It's Tayler's best role ever, and that's saying quite a lot. Attendance at this performance would be the greatest holiday present a theatregoer could give, either to herself or himself, or to others. It's a phenomenon, already the highpoint of this season.

 

Kudos to Director Courtney O'Connor, who's the co-creator of this impossibly hilarious, dead-on portrait. The creative team is in on the gags, from the wise and versatile Scenic Design by Anthony R. Phelps, to the just-right Costume Design by Rafael Jaen, and the perfectly-timed Lighting Design by Chris Brusberg and Sound Design by David Remedios. (And whoever dyed Tayler's locks in Barbra's favorite color). The original off-Broadway all-white-painted version lacked definition, which tempered one's enthusiasm; here everything contributes positively to the overall effect.

By the time the whirlwind winds down, Alex has grown to realize that the circle you can make with your arms outstretched contains what's most important in our lives; all the efforts, all the things that surround us, matter so much less; what may matter most is finding someone who knows what to do with one's down time on a Sunday. With just the right partner, you can fill in the rest.

Fiddlehead's "Little Mermaid": "Squid Pro Quo"?

The Cast of "Little Mermaid"
(photo: Eric Antoniou/Fiddlehead Theatre)

 

“Squid pro quo” is, as puns go, outrageous, one of many in the current Fiddlehead Theatre Company production of Disney's “The Little Mermaid”. Most of them went right over the heads of the sea of urchins (human, not the marine type) assembled for a recent matinee, but the adults in the audience lapped up the more painfully over-the-top lines. One's tolerance for this level of humor and the Borscht Belt delivery might be strained, but in the end a good time appeared to be had by all. It's their last stand at the Strand venue in Dorchester, so it will be interesting to see how they do in the Shubert Theatre with their mounting of “Showboat” next spring.

For the moment, thanks largely to the excellent Choreography by Kira Cowan Troilo, the inventive Costume Design by Director Stacey Stephens, the lively Music Direction by Charles Peltz, clever Scenic Design by Mac Young, and complex Lighting Design by Zach Blane, they're in a good place. There is also fine Sound Design by Brian McCoy and sometimes pesky Flying by Foy. It's in the source material where the show too often (you should excuse the expression) flounders, with hopelessly over-padded music and dialogue. The original film's Music by Alan Menken and Lyrics by Howard Ashman (with some additional lyrics by Glenn Slater) included several such top-drawer songs as “Part of Your World”, “Kiss the Girl” and of course “Under the Sea”. These three numbers continue to delight, but most of the musical numbers added for the stage are instantly forgettable (with the exception of “If Only” sung by the impressive Andrew Giordano as King Triton), some even irritating, such as “Positoovity”.

The cast, every member proficient both in singing and dancing, is led by Jesse Lynn Harte as Ariel, ably supported by Eric (Jared Troilo), Sebastian (Jay Kelley, especially notable for his movement in the “Under the Sea” sequence), and other characters with such names as Grimsby (Ray O'Hare), Flotsam (Chris Pittman), Jetsam (Carl-Michael Ogle), Scuttle (Eddy Cavazos), and, yes, even Flounder (Scott Caron). Standouts are the prance-on role of Chef Louis (Andy Papas) and the powerful voice of Ursula (Shana Dirik). In the acting department, most could profit from a dose of subtlety, but that might be too much to expect from a show with this target audience in its sights.

The main weakness of the show is the Book by Doug Wright, a real surprise, given his noted previous work (“I Am My Own Wife”, “Grey Gardens”). There are a few other relatively minor quibbles (the too-visible wires that make characters “fly”, the mermaids with quite discernible feet, the occasional mugging) but in the end it's the enjoyment of the children (and the childlike adults accompanying them) that truly matters. While the 1989 film remains far superior, and, though it sounds fishy, a non-animated film is in the pipeline, this version, in its across-the-nation popularity, has proven that Hans Christian Anderson's heroine still has legs.

Fathom Events' Met Opera's "Lulu": Iced Berg

Marlis Petersen as Berg's "Lulu"
(photo: Metropolitan Opera)

The Metropolitan Opera's latest HD Live broadcast is Alban Berg's "Lulu", his sordid tale of the complicated temptress who disrupts the lives of all who surround her. Unabashedly lurid, this is a challenging piece to say the least, especially with its relatively unapproachable music. It's not a particularly popular work, though its fans are avid. However, it's undeniably unsavory, and, as opera plots go, this one is a real lulu.

In a prologue, the Animal Trainer invites us to visit his menagerie, including “the serpent Lulu”, the cold-as-ice “heroine” of this story. Lulu (Marlis Petersen) is sitting for her portrait by The Painter (Paul Groves), with her lover Schön (Johan Reuter) in attendance, when her husband The Physician rushes in, discovers her and collapses in shock, dying. Later, after Lulu and The Painter are married, they are visited by the aged Schigolch (Franz Grundheber) who is either her father or a former lover, when she hears Schön has become engaged. Schön tells her husband about her lurid past, causing him to cut his throat. Lulu is indifferent to the suicide, convinced Schön will marry her. His son Alwa (Daniel Brenna) composes a ballet for Lulu to perform but she refuses when she sees Schön in the audience with his fiancée. Lulu convinces him to break off his engagement. Later, now married to Schön, she continues to attract admirers, including Alwa and the lesbian Countess Geschwitz (Susan Graham), causing Schön to insist that Lulu shoot herself to protect his reputation. Instead, she shoots and kills him. Committed to a hospital with cholera, she plans her escape by arranging for The Countess to take her place. Alwa reaffirms his love for Lulu and agrees to take her to his Paris mansion, where they have a raucous birthday party for her, broken up by the police just as she leaves. Later, Alwa, living in a cheap London garret, confronts Lulu, now a prostitute, as she brings home her first client. The Countess enters with Lulu's portrait. Lulu brings home yet another client, who is killed by Alwa. Schigolch drags away the body and disappears. The Countess contemplates suicide when Lulu brings home another client, who turns out to be Jack the Ripper (Reuter again). Arguing about money, they go into her room. Her screams are heard as she is killed by Jack. Attempting to help, the Countess is also stabbed by Jack, who leaves as the Countess, dying, cries out one last time for Lulu.

The Met is fortunate that Petersen, who has made this role her international signature, has consented to perform it for one last run. Even those opera fans who detest twelve tone works will find her performance, both in acting and singing, truly magnetic. The entire cast sang the difficult score very well, and Conductor Lothar Keonigs led the orchestra superbly. The creative team was another matter, as Set Designer Sabine Theunissen and Projection Designer Catherine Meyburgh, in this production by William Kentridge, repeated their work seen in the Met's “The Nose”, but overly so, producing very drab visuals. The same could be said for Costume Designer Greta Goiris and Lighting Designer Urs Schönebaum. The expressive Live in HD Broadcast Host was Deborah Voigt.

It may never be one's favorite opera, but as it stands in this current version, it's at least never boring. But then, sin at this level rarely is either.

Encore broadcast will be shown on Wednesday December 2nd at 6:30pm at a theater near you.

Huntington's "Confederacy of Dunces": Flatulence Will Get You Everywhere

Nick Offerman & Cast of "A Confederacy of Dunces"
(photo: T. Charles Erickson)

“Ignatius J. Reilly”; say it soft and it's almost like praying. Or so think some multitudes of avid readers (including this critic) of this antihero of the 1981 novel “A Confederacy of Dunces” by John Kennedy Toole. In the forward to the book by its primary advocate, novelist Walker Percy, Ignatius is described succinctly as a “slob extraordinary, a mad Oliver Hardy, a fat Don Quixote, a perverse Thomas Aquinas, rolled into one who is in violent revolt against the entire modern age...who between gigantic seizures of flatulence and eructations is filling dozens of Big Chief tablets with invective”. The title refers to a quotation from Jonathan Swift: “When a true genius appears in the world, you may know him by this sign, that the dunces are all in confederacy against him”. Percy was introduced to Toole's novel by the author's persistent mother years after her son's death by suicide at 31. Percy was blown away by it, championed it until it was finally published, and basked in reflected glory when it subsequently won the Pulitzer. It was the object of several proposals over the years for a film version, none of which ever saw the light of day, save for a reading of a Steven Soderbergh screenplay in 2003. Some began to believe the effort was jinxed, as alluded to in the non-fiction work by Cory MacLaughlin (“Butterfly in the Typewriter”) about the author's struggles with himself and the world. Now, at last, Huntington Theatre Company is presenting the world premiere of a fully staged version adapted by playwright Jeffrey Hatcher. Fingers and sphincters crossed, Ignatius' legion of fans waited in hushed anticipation mixed with more than just a touch of anxiety and dread.

They need not have been concerned. Though the concept of bringing this 300-pound bloviating bellower of bovine banality was a daunting one in thought, it's a haunting one in execution. Ignatius has been described as “excessive in all things”, “huge,obese, fractious, fastidious, a latter-day Gargantua”, “Falstaffian” with “echoes of Shakespeare and Wilde”, “a grand comic figure”, “a brainy, obnoxious, gassy, hefty center of gravity”, an outlandish “slovenly cynic whose snobbery is even more off-putting than his distinct lack of hygiene”, a “classic archetype”, and a “legend in his own mind”. On the page, he considers himself the center of the universe; on stage, he's all this and more. The play, as did the book, throws together the great social forces of the counterculture of 1960's America, such as race, and whether an original like Ignatius can outwit the nitwits. As Hatcher has said, “a lot of the people in this play are trapped. The way out for them may be success, it may be freedom, it may be leaving New Orleans. Ignatius is frightened of leaving New Orleans but he must. Like the rest of them, he's trapped and looking for a way out”. His is a difficult personality to embrace. Unless he's present in the person of one Nick Offerman.

Offerman is a perfect deadpan choice for our central character in a work full of characters of all sorts and sizes (fifteen or more). Though we're spared the book's describing his favorite flops of the cinema (such as two Doris Day films, “Billy Rose's Jumbo” and “That Touch of Mink”), he's still an omniscient critic of all in his wake. Offerman manages, with the raising of an eyebrow, the haughtiness of his tone, and his pontificating delivery, to embody this fantastic creature. Then there's his mother Irene (Anita Gillette, fondly remembered for delivering some of Irving Berlin's funniest lyrics ever, in the song “The Secret Service Makes Me Nervous”, from Mr.President). Gillette remains a cosmic comic force to be reckoned with. The remaining cast of characters: a caustic Burma Jones (Phillip James Brannon), an overly swishy Dorian Greene and wimpy Mr. Gonzalez (Arnie Burton), a domineering Lana Lee and protofeminist Myrna (Stephanie DiMaggio), a hilariously comatose Miss Trixie (Julie Halston), as well as Officer Mancuso (Paul Melendy), Mr. Watson and Mr. Clyde (Lonnie Farmer), Darlene (Talene Monahon), Claude Robichaux (Ed Peed), Gus Levy and Sergeant (Steve Rosen), Santa Battaglia (Lusia Strus, with a voice that could shatter glass), Mrs. Levy and George (Stacey Yen), a Bartending Pianist (Wayne Barker, who also provided Music Direction), and a Trombonist (David L. Harris). It's a cast of fifteen, an anomaly in these dramatically underpopulated days. As Directed by David Esbjornson they're mostly wonderful and crucial. Equally important are the creative team contributions: inventive Scenic Design by Riccardo Hernandez (with countless short scenes defined with the help of sliding panels), painstaking Costume Design by Michael Krass (with Ignatius' hunter's cap, suspenders, and untied boots, he's a vision in plaid), complex Lighting Design by Scott Zielinski (which also helps to designate scene changes), and, perhaps most vital, the perfect Sound Design by Mark Bennett and Charles Coes (reminisicent of movie post-production Foley sound effects work, with the cast's pantomiming replacing props, which are heard but not seen), excellent Original Music by Bennett (lending a helpful New Orleans feel) and fine but restrained Projection Design by Sven Ortel.

Thus there's a great deal of talent on display all around. The question remains whether the script itself is sufficiently insightful as to make its central character as unforgettable “live and in color” as he has been in written form. Hatcher has said that no one is indifferent to the book; people either love it or toss it across the room. A similar fate seems likely for this staged version. Audiences will love it and loathe it, depending on their tolerance for Ignatius himself. With consummate pagecraft, in written form he was weirdly lovable; with the parameters of stagecraft, Ignatius in living color is someone who, though still fascinating, wouldn't necessarily be one's first choice as a companion on a transcontinental road trip (or trans-city, for that matter). Many will welcome him; after all, nothing succeeds like excess. The play has already broken box office records, as the second highest grossing production by the company (after last season's wondrous Jungle Book).

All's well (or maybe not) that ends well as our hero presses Myrna's pigtail to his wet mustache in his poignant approach avoidance in the final scene. This adaptation is often brilliant, wildly creative and engrossing (in more ways than one). While at this point in time it needs a Weight Watchers regimen to reach its full potential, it's already a wacky wonder that captures the essence of a much beloved book as few such adaptations do. As was the novel, this play will have its advocates as well as detractors. In its present form, all signs lead one to hope for a leaner but no meaner future. Let Ignatius himself have the last word: “I refuse to 'look up'; optimism nauseates me”.

PPAC's "Book of Mormon": This Is the Place

Monica L. Patton, David Larsen & Cody Jamison Strand in "Book of Mormon"
(photo: Joan Marcus)

Have faith. The “Book of Mormon”, that outrageous musical that took Broadway by storm (and continues to do so with sold-out performances), is back proselytizing the Book, Music and Lyrics by Trey Parker and Matt Stone (South Park), and Robert Lopez (Avenue Q). Irreverent, blasphemous and bawdy, it was a huge commercial and critical hit, surprisingly so when one considers some of the words and plot points. Against all odds, this raunchily creative wonder won nine Tony Awards including Best Musical of the 2011 season. Now, four years later, it's still easy to see why it has been so successful. There are so many fine points to this show that you can easily overlook its over-the-top political incorrectness and in-your-face humor. If you haven't experienced it yet (or even if you have and need a refresher course of not-so-old-time religion), be advised that, to paraphrase Mormon founder Joseph Smith, one can safely say of the Providence Performing Arts Center that this is the place to be.

The story begins in ancient upstate New York, where the prophet Mormon gives golden plates (about the history of his people) to his son Moroni, who buries them in hopes that someone will someday dig them up. Fast forward to a few centuries later, and that's exactly what happens, as the Church of Latter Day Saints is founded when they are rediscovered by Joseph Smith (Edward Watts). The modern story concerns the assignments of a group of young Mormon missionaries (“Hello”), including Elder Price (David Larsen) who had hoped to be sent to Orlando but instead finds himself headed for Uganda, with his fellow missionary Elder Cunningham (Cody Jamison Strand), ("Two by Two”). Cunningham is the less confident of the pair, though Price has enough confidence for the two of them (“You and Me, but Mostly Me”). In Uganda they encounter their guide Mafala (James Vincent Meredith) and his daughter Nabulungi (Candace Quarrels), who joyously sing “Hasa Diga Eebowai” (and do not expect a translation here, there may be children present) as well as Elder McKinley (Daxton Bloomquist), who advises Price to go slowly (“Turn It Off”) and has yet to baptize a single convert. The local General (David Aron Damane), in fact, decrees that all of the tribal women must be circumcised. Meanwhile, although Cunningham has assured Price of his loyalty (“I Am Here for You”), the people are unimpressed (“All-American Prophet”) especially about the paradisiacal “Sal Tlay Ka Siti” (yes, that's Salt Lake City). Price and Cunningham have a falling out, leaving the missionary work in Cunningham's inventive hands, as he vows to “Man Up”.

The story continues in the second act wherein, thanks to a few major embellishments in his communicating the Mormon story (“Making Things Up Again”), Elder Cunningham manages to convince ten volunteers to be baptized (“Baptize Me”), rescuing Price from his depression (“Spooky Mormon Hell Dream”) and restoring his faith (“I Believe”). The Mormon authorities are thrilled until they learn exactly what stories the people have been told. Elder Price, said to have been eaten by lions, suddenly reappears before the people and they proclaim their belief in this miraculously reborn messenger prophet as he proclaims his oneness with the people (“I Am Africa”). The tribe puts on a pageant (“Joseph Smith, American Moses”) which exposes the made-up message conveyed by Cunningham. The Mormon heads are horrified and leave in disgust, while the people promise their new-found Book of Arnold (Cunningham, that is) will change everyone's life, for “Tomorrow Is a Latter Day”.

The show is a love letter to Broadway, with references, some subtle and some not, to such previous works as “Bye Bye Birdie” (in its opening number, “Hello”), “The Lion King”, and “The King and I” (with its hysterical take on “Small House of Uncle Thomas”). Thanks to the efforts of its Co-Directors, Parker and Casey Nicholaw (who also created the unforgettably lively choreography), as well as a swell cast led by the electric Larsen (a superb singer who moves extraordinarily well) and the powerful Quarrels, the show has been kept fresh in several senses of the word. Only the unrestrained performance of Strand detracted, though he seemed toned down in the second act, perhaps adjusting to the venue; he was hilarious, in fact, in his delivery of his mangled names for Quarrel's character, Nabulungi, from “Neosporin” to “Neutrogena”. The Set Design by Scott Pask, Costume Design by Ann Roth, Lighting Design by Brian MacDevitt and Sound Design by Brian Ronan were all on a par with the New York version, and all ended well save for the Doctor (Melvin Brandon Logan) whose repeated refrain was “there are maggots in my scrotum” (and no, that's not a typo).

One could understand why the New York Times reviewer proclaimed this (a bit prematurely) “the musical of the century”. The four years since have given us such milestones as “Fun Home” and, most especially, “Hamilton”. Nonetheless, this is way up there with the finest of Broadway-birthed productions, and to all its rave notices one can only respond Amen! Let's admit it: they had us with “Hello”.

ArtsEmerson's "U Carmen": Carmen's Marimbas

Ayanda Tikolo, Luvo Rasemeni, Pauline Malefane, Mhlekazi (Whawha) Mosiea,
Bongiwe Mapassa, Noluthando Boqwana & Zoleka Mpotsha in "U Carmen"
(photo: John Page)

 

ArtsEmerson's current offering is “U Carmen”, created and performed by the South African theatre company The Isango Ensemble, so memorable for their production last season of Mozart's “Magic Flute”. This time around they've adapted the popular 1875 opera by Bizet, setting it not in the bullrings of Spain but, as the program says, “a land which somehow borders France, Spain and South Africa”. (Elsewhere in the past in print it was identified as the Capetown township of Khayelitsha). At 100 minutes including a twenty minute intermission, it's a very truncated version of the original “Carmen”, which might profit from being presented as a one-acter. It must also be said that Mozart lent himself more to marimbas than does Bizet. One missed the more dramatic orchestrations that this story of passion necessitates.

This adaptation follows the narrative of the original opera reasonably closely, though some familiarity with it would be of benefit. Whether it was due to diction issues or the balance between musicians and singers, much of what remained of the libretto was incomprehensible, and might as well have been sung not in English but in Xhosa, one of the eleven official languages in South Africa. (Then again, perhaps this was a blessing given some of the intelligible lyrics such as “in this neighborhood your timing wasn't good”). But the singing was on the same extraordinarily level as it was on the company's visit last year in solos, duets, trios and choral work. While all were excellent, the standouts were Pauline Malefane as Carmen, the gypsy girl, and Mhlekazi (Whawha) Mosiea as Don José, corporal of the dragoons. Much of the singing was a cappella this time around.

Under the direction of Mark Dornford-May (who was also responsible for the adaptation from a translation by Rory Bremner), The Isango Ensemble shone once again, especially in the fabulous choreography by Lungelo Ngamlana and the lively Music Arrangement by Conductor Mandisi Dyantyis. The effective Lighting was by Chloe Kenward, with the set (unattributed) the identical one utilized last season for “The Magic Flute”.

Any visit from this talented ensemble is a welcome one, and “U Carmen” is a production that's been identified with the company from its inception. One looks forward to savoring an annual performance as the company develops and expands its repertoire. For now, one can sit back and admire the gypsy in their souls, and, since it's another unshod performance, their soles.