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MEET MISS BAKER: CHAINS

Charley (Jeremy Beck) and Lily Wilson (Laakan McHardy) face a turning point in Chains

CHAINS
The Mint Theater at Theatre Row
410 West 42nd St. between Ninth & Tenth Aves.
Tuesday – Sunday through July 17, $35-$80
minttheater.org
www.bfany.org

As live theater slowly emerged from the long pandemic lockdown, I waited with bated breath for the return of the Mint, one of New York City’s genuine treasures. For the last two years, the Mint, founded in 1992 to resurrect lost or forgotten plays, has been streaming recordings of such relatively recent successes as Conflict, Katie Roche, and Women without Men. Artistic director Jonathan Bank and the troupe are now back with its first live presentation since 2019, an exquisitely rendered adaptation of Elizabeth Baker’s 1909 working-class drama, Chains.

The second part of the Mint’s “Meet Miss Baker” series, which began with The Price of Thomas Scott, Chains was originally scheduled for the spring of 2020; the production finally opened on June 23, and the events of the past two years make it feel excitingly fresh and timely, as if it were written yesterday.

During the lockdown, many New Yorkers were overcome with wanderlust, heading to less-dense areas of America, sometimes for good. As the coronavirus crisis declined — it is still with us, of course, one example of which are the vaccine checks and masks required to enter Theatre Row, where Chains continues through July 17 — people across the country began reexamining their lives and careers, suddenly leaving their jobs, even without other prospects, what has become known as the Great Resignation. According to a Pew Research survey released this past March, “Low pay, a lack of opportunities for advancement, and feeling disrespected at work are the top reasons why Americans quit their jobs last year.” Also cited was a better balance between work and family responsibilities.

All of those aspects are at play in Chains, which is elegantly directed by Jenn Thompson with a cunning wit — she also helmed Conflict and Men without Women — and impeccably performed by a nine-person cast, most of whom portray characters who are chained down in one way or another, whether they realize it or not, primarily by capitalism and social convention.

When Fred Tennant (Peterson Townsend), a kind lodger renting a room from Charley Wilson (Jeremy Beck) and his devoted wife, Lily (Laakan McHardy), announces that he is emigrating from England and starting a new life in Australia, friends and neighbors are mostly shocked and stunned. Tennant is single and on a career path to become head clerk at his firm.

“I’m sick of the whole show. I can’t stand it any longer,” Tennant tells Charley, who, a moment later, asks, “Do you mean you are just going out because you want a change?” Tennant replies, “That’s about it. I’ve had enough of grind.” Charley points out, “Well, perhaps you’ll get grind somewhere else.” Tennant responds calmly, “It’ll be a change of grind then. That’s something.”

Elizabeth Baker’s Chains is gorgeously revived by the Mint (photo by Todd Cerveris)

The Wilsons’ big, boisterous neighbor, Morton Leslie (Brian Owen), comes bounding over the fence of Charley’s small backyard vegetable garden and chimes in, believing Tennant’s a fool for giving up his cushy gig. “He’s going to throw it away!” he proclaims. “And then I suppose he’ll be out of work over there, and we shall be hearing of the unemployment in the Colonies! It’s just this sort of thing that makes a man a Conservative. It’s what I call getting off the ladder and deliberately kicking it down.” Ironically, Leslie has a problem with the garden ladder as he tries to get home.

Lily’s twenty-two-year-old brother, Percy Massey (Avery Whitted), is in love with Sybil Frost (Claire Saunders) and wants to marry her, while Lily’s sister, Maggie (Olivia Gilliatt), is being courted by wealthy but dull-as-a-doornail widower Walter Foster (Ned Noyes). When Charley’s coworker, Thomas Fenwick (Christopher Gerson), shares some unfortunate news with him, Charley starts thinking that maybe it’s time for him to give up the daily monotony, the awful commute, the nonstop grind and head to Australia for better opportunities, then send for Lily after he’s settled. The men’s discussion is eerily contemporary, centering on “low pay, a lack of opportunities for advancement, and feeling disrespected at work,” exactly what the Pew study exposed workers complaining about more than a century later.

Charley asks his wife, “Don’t you ever get sick of it? It’s jolly hard work sometimes.” But Lily seems content with being a homemaker, following the predictable lower-middle-class suburban lifestyle, as if there was nothing else to consider.

Learning of Charley’s wanderlust, Lily’s parents (Anthony Cochrane and Amelia White), who are just fine with the status quo, are surprised and disappointed. Mrs. Massey offers, “Suppose we all stopped work when we didn’t like it? A pretty muddle the world would be in. Charley is forgetting there is such a thing as duty. . . . We’ve got to do our duty, and the more cheerfully we can do it, the better for ourselves and everybody else.” Mr. Massey argues, “Father was a plumber, and if it was good enough for him, it was good enough for me.”

The only one who recognizes what Charley is going through is Maggie, a free spirit who appreciates that there is more than the never-ending cycle of school, work, marriage, kids, retirement. She tells Charley, “I can never understand why a man gets married. He’s got so many chances to see the world and do things — and then he goes and marries and settles down and is a family man before he’s twenty-four.” Charley replies, “It’s a habit.” Maggie adds, “If I were a man I wouldn’t stay in England another week. I wouldn’t be a quill-driver all my life.”

Puffing away on his pipe, Charley has a major decision to make that affects more than just him, a choice that many in the audience can relate to.

Wealthy but dull Walter (Ned Noyes) woos Maggie (Olivia Gilliatt) in Chains (photo by Todd Cerveris)

Chains switches between two locations: the Wilsons’ sitting room in Hammersmith, with a fireplace on the right, the kitchen table at the center, and a parlor in the back, and the Massey living room, with a comfy couch, a cozy nook, and a piano. Both sets are gorgeously designed by John McDermott; one of the Mint’s trademarks is its consistently beautiful stage design and its magical change of sets, which is usually done during intermission but here is saved for the beginning of the second act so everyone can experience its wonder. The Edwardian costumes are by David Toser, with lighting by Paul Miller and sound by M. Florian Staab. To further Charley’s sense of captivity, there are repeated images of small chains on the Wilsons’ wallpaper.

Beck, who starred in two of the Mint’s best recent productions, Conflict and Hindle Wakes, is sublime as Charley, bringing a Daniel Craig–like quality to the role of a man who abruptly decides that he needs more out of life, unsatisfied with his current circumstances and unhappy that it’s precisely what’s expected of him. When he looks at Tennant’s map of Australia, we are examining it with him, as if searching for our own possibilities of seeking something new.

The rest of the cast is superb, led by McHardy (The Wolves, Mac Beth) in her off-Broadway debut as the gentle, doe-eyed Lily and Gilliatt (Pushkin, Mother of the Maid) as her far more adventurous sister. Owen (Dog Man: The Musical, Baskerville: A Sherlock Holmes Mystery) nearly shakes the house as Leslie, towering over everyone else.

Thompson’s (The Gravedigger’s Lullaby, Abundance) direction is richly harmonic, allowing former stenographer Baker’s words to sing. It’s a song many of us have listened to, and many more are terrified of or reject outright. At one point, Fenwick says to Charley, “What can I do? Stay, of course — what else is there?”

What else is there? As Baker (Edith, Partnership), in her first play, reveals, there’s a whole world out there to be explored, onstage and off. And as we now know, sometimes it takes a pandemic for people to break out of the chains of their self-imposed bondage.

SNOW IN MIDSUMMER

Classic Stage Company’s Snow in Midsummer bites off more than it can chew (photo by Julieta Cervantes)

SNOW IN MIDSUMMER
Classic Stage Company, Lynn F. Angelson Theater
136 East 13th St. between Third & Fourth Aves.
Tuesday – Sunday through July 9, $70
www.classicstage.org

As an aficionado of Asian ghost stories — I’ve seen more than my fair share of horror flicks from Japan, China, South Korea, Taiwan, Vietnam, and the Philippines — I was looking forward to Classic Stage Company’s Snow in Midsummer, Frances Ya-Chu Cowhig’s adaptation of Guan Hanqing’s thirteenth-century Yuan dynasty drama The Injustice to Dou Yi That Moved Heaven and Earth. The play was originally presented by the Royal Shakespeare Company in 2017 as part of its Chinese Translations Project; CSC’s version, directed by Zi Alikhan, can’t find its way out of Cowhig’s overstuffed, undercooked narrative. While the central ghost story, involving grave injustice, works well, every aspect of the rest of the tale is overwhelmed by myriad social justice elements that just keep coming from every direction.

Three years earlier, in the remote factory town of New Harmony in Jiangsu Province, Dou Yi (Dorcas Leung) was executed for a crime she claims she did not commit. “If we still live on a planet that hates injustice, / Snow will fall from the clouds and shield my remains. / May that snow be the last water that falls on New Harmony until / Justice is brought to Dou Yi,” she proclaims, awaiting her death. “Officers — / Do you see the white flag flapping overhead? / If I am innocent, / Not a drop of hot blood will spill onto the green earth or / Stain my clothes, no matter how many bullets pierce this flesh / My blood will fly towards the Blue Sky and / Stain the white flag flying above. . . . I promise you — / It is the hottest time of the year, / But soon snow will tumble down like cotton / And New Harmony will experience the wrath of a drought for three years. / They say Heaven has no sympathy for the human heart — / The Blue Sky will answer my prayers. / Mother! / Wait until snow falls in June and drought lasts three years. / Only then will my innocent soul be — ”

In the present, a drought is threatening the very existence of the town. Tianyun (Teresa Avia Lim), a single mother who grew up in a nearby village, has returned to the area and purchased the factory previously owned by Master Zhang (Kenneth Lee), who Dou Yi was accused of murdering. Tianyun rose from teenage migrant to assembly line employee to operating the largest synthetic flower company in the country. As Master Zhang’s son, Handsome Zhang (John Yi), prepares to propose in public to Rocket Wu (Tommy Bo), his true love, Tianyun’s six-year-old daughter, Fei-Fei (Fin Moulding), warns, “Don’t propose during Ghost Month! It’s an invitation for spirits to visit!” Nurse Wong (Wai Ching Ho), who runs the local bar, replies, “Wasn’t the Cultural Revolution supposed to wipe out rural superstition?”

Things are set in motion when the ghost of Dou Yi appears to Fei-Fei and they declare in unison, “Heart of Sorrow, Tears of Suffering. How will you redeem my three-year rotting bones? / No rain and not an inch of grass has grown. Injustice killed this girl of youth and spring. No one on earth has avenged me. / Earth — why have you only mourned but not fought for me?” As Tianyun and Fei-Fei attempt to find out what really happened to Master Zhang, they are continually thwarted by citizens of a town who have a lot to hide, from Mother Cai (Wai Ching Ho), Nurse Wong, Doctor Lu (Kenneth Lee), and Judge Wu (Lee) to a trio of factory workers (Paul Juhn, Julian Leong, and Alex Vinh), the local police, and Handsome himself.

There are several creepy, eerie moments involving Dou Yi as she seeks her revenge, but they get lost amid a sea of social justice tropes immersed in overdramatized and overacted melodrama. Instead of focusing on the misogyny and abuse that led to the execution of Dou Yi and its extensive cover-up, Cowhig and Alikhan throw in police and government corruption, homophobia, illegal organ harvesting, income inequality, class and gender differences, deforestation, the death penalty, generational trauma, climate change, and other issues. This kitchen-sink approach drowns a play that otherwise has a solid core. The spare sets by dots are effective in their simplicity, and Jeanette Yew’s lighting maintains an otherworldly quality. Leung (Miss Saigon, Hamilton) and Lim (Junk, The Alchemist) stand out among the uneven cast, who are dressed in Johanna Pan’s unflattering costumes.

Perhaps Snow in Midsummer would have been more successful if it had been significantly cut down from its outstretched two-and-a-half-hour length (with intermission) and did not try to tackle most of the world’s current problems all at once; I could see it working well in a kind of modern-day Kwaidan omnibus, concentrating on Dou Yi’s tragic but, unfortunately, universal story.

ENOUGH. AN EVENING TO SUPPORT GUN SAFETY

Who: Dionne Warwick, Ira Kaplan, Macy Gray, John Cameron Mitchell, Amanda Palmer, Tash Neal, Gracie Lawrence, Loudon Wainwright III, Dar Williams, Paul Shaffer, Dida Pelled, Resistance Revival Chorus, DJ Logic, musical director Eli Brueggemann, more
What: Benefit concert for Every Town for Gun Safety and Moms Demand Action
Where: City Winery NYC, 25 Eleventh Ave. at Fifteenth St.
When: Wednesday, July 6, $50-$500, 8:00
Why: The battle over gun laws has hit epic proportions as the Supreme Court gets involved, there are more mass shootings at schools, and Republican congress members feature the use of guns in their holiday cards and campaign ads. On July 6, City Winery is hosting “Enough. An evening to support gun safety,” a benefit concert for Every Town for Gun Safety and Moms Demand Action. Among those performing to raise funds and encourage participation in the fight for stricter gun control laws are Dionne Warwick, Ira Kaplan, Macy Gray, John Cameron Mitchell, Amanda Palmer, Loudon Wainwright III, Dar Williams, Paul Shaffer, Dida Pelled, Resistance Revival Chorus, DJ Logic, and musical director Eli Brueggemann.

“We feel a responsibility to use our facility as a community-gathering space expressing our concern for the plague of guns in our country and importance of safety measures required given the Second Amendment,” City Winery CEO and founder Michael Dorf said in a statement. “Everytown.org and Moms Demand Action are doing remarkable work in this domain and we are bringing as much of a spotlight to their important work as possible with this event.”

Every Town for Gun Safety proudly proclaims, “We’re the largest gun violence prevention organization in America — and we’re winning. Gun violence touches every town in America. For too long, life-saving laws have been thwarted by the gun lobby and by leaders who refuse to take common-sense steps that will save lives. But something is changing. Nearly 10 million mayors, moms, teachers, survivors, gun owners, students, and everyday Americans have come together to make their own communities safer.”

Moms Demand Action, which was formed in 2012 in response to the Newtown shooting, “is a grassroots movement of Americans fighting for public safety measures that can protect people from gun violence. We pass stronger gun laws and work to close the loopholes that jeopardize the safety of our families. We also work in our own communities and with business leaders to encourage a culture of responsible gun ownership. We know that gun violence is preventable, and we’re committed to doing what it takes to keep families safe.”

Tickets for the event range from $50 to $500; a special bottle of Enough Benefit Cabernet Sauvignon will be available, promising, “The nose opens with fresh herbal notes of sage and eucalyptus, followed by black currant jam, hints of fresh blueberries, star anise, and cloves. On the palate, the wine is soft and smooth with lots of blackberries and dried cherries. Hints of vanilla, cinnamon, and allspice dance around the palate with a medium body and fine-grained texture. The finish cleans out quickly, leaving you ready for another sip.”

And, as Gray points out in the above video, “All I want for Christmas is a whole bunch of stuff / But anything that you can buy me won’t be enough / Because everything I’m hoping for is intangible / Like free health care and gun control.”

The bipartisan bill Congress passed on June 24 is far from enough; we need to keep fighting until the scourge of guns terrorizing America is over.

THE RISE AND FALL, THEN BRIEF AND MODEST RISE FOLLOWED BY A RELATIVE FALL OF . . . JEAN CLAUDE VAN DAMME AS GLEANED BY A SINGLE READING OF HIS WIKIPEDIA PAGE MONTHS EARLIER

Joe Cordaro and John Harlacher star in Timothy Haskell’s semibiographical play about Jean Claude Van Damme (photo by Nathaniel Nowak)

THE RISE AND FALL, THEN BRIEF AND MODEST RISE FOLLOWED BY A RELATIVE FALL OF . . . JEAN CLAUDE VAN DAMME AS GLEANED BY A SINGLE READING OF HIS WIKIPEDIA PAGE MONTHS EARLIER
The Pit Loft
154 West Twenty-Ninth St. between Seventh & Eighth Aves.
Friday – Sunday through July 17, $24.99 with discount code JCVD22, 7:30
thepit-nyc.com

I’ve seen so many meticulously researched plays about real-life figures and situations, wondering what is actually true and what has been tweaked — or just plain made up — for dramatic effect, that Timothy Haskell’s new work is a breath of fresh air. The title explains exactly what you’re in for: The Rise and Fall, Then Brief and Modest Rise Followed by a Relative Fall of . . . Jean Claude Van Damme as Gleaned by a Single Reading of His Wikipedia Page Months Earlier. Haskell checked out Jean Claude Van Damme’s relatively lengthy Wikipedia entry, then, a few months later, wrote a play based only on what he could remember, without doing any further reading or fact checking. “Absolutely no research was put into learning anything about the subject at hand,” we are told early on. “It was all gleaned from one cursory glance at his Wikipedia page, and just general knowledge of the man based on tabloid headlines.”

The result is a breezy, extremely funny look at fame, ambition, gossip, and celebrity, gleefully codirected by Haskell, set designer Paul Smithyman, and puppet master Aaron Haskell (Timothy’s brother). For about an hour at the Pit Loft, John Harlacher and Joe Cordaro, standing behind makeshift podiums, share the not-necessarily-true story of the Muscles from Brussels. Between them is an angled table with slots where they place cardboard cutouts on Popsicle sticks of Van Damme and people who have been part of his personal life and professional career — or have nothing to do with him. Behind them is a small “screen” on which they project photos and a few choice film clips, including a fantastic moment from 1984’s Breakin’ with Van Damme as an uncredited background extra.

Both actors play multiple roles, but the hirsute Harlacher (Bum Phillips, Dog Day Afternoon) is mainly the narrator, meandering through his overstuffed, disorganized notebook, while Cordaro (The Foreigner, The Tiny Mustache) is mostly the former Jean-Claude Camille François Van Varenberg, reacting to what the narrator says and occasionally taking center stage to act out various scenes, including JCVD’s infamous barfight with Chuck Zito.

Timothy Haskell and the narrator make no bones about what went into the scattershot though chronological show, which has a proudly middle school DIY aesthetic. Introducing the Breakin’ clip, the narrator explains, “There’s a pretty fun YouTube remix our author was lucky enough to stumble upon while limply researching another play about the movie Breakin’ that some guy did that looks like this.” The two actors dance along with JCVD, after which the narrator rhetorically asks, “Isn’t that fun?” Yes it is!

Repurposed action figures play a pivotal role in JCVD show at the Pit Loft (photo courtesy Aaron Haskell)

Commenting on JCVD’s battle with drugs, the narrator admits, “As for Jean Claude, he did that stupid thing in Breakin’ and then toiled away some more and did a ton of bullshit and got all kinds of high. Not on life either, brother. The man was a straight up smack head if smack head means you did lots of cocaine which the author is now not sure it does. Fed up and high as a Romanian glue-huffer he decided to make some bold moves. He decided to case Joel Silver’s office. Joel Silver was the producer of Road House starring Patrick Swayze that was later turned into a hit play by Timothy Haskell who thought after that he could do serious work but was wrong.”

As JCVD’s career rises and falls and rises and falls and so on, we (sort of) learn about his siblings, his wives, his martial arts mentors and heroes, his perhaps partially fabricated tournament record, and his hotly anticipated confrontation with Steven Seagal. We go behind the scenes of such films as Bloodsport, Kickboxer, Universal Soldier, and Timecop. Oh, and there is plenty of fighting, carried out by Cordaro and Harlacher with repurposed action figures, designed by Aaron Haskell, battling it out on a long, narrow fencing piste at the front of the stage. It’s like watching two young friends playing in the basement with their GI Joe dolls — the ones with kung fu grip, of course.

As a founding member of Psycho Clan, Haskell has presented such immersive horror experiences as This Is Real, Santastical, and I Can’t See. He has also directed James and the Giant Peach, Fatal Attraction: A Greek Tragedy, Road House: The Stage Play, and the upcoming graffiti drama Hit the Wall.

In an April 2014 twi-ny talk about his interactive Easter-themed eggstravaganza, Full Bunny Contact, I asked him, “What happened to you as a child? Based on the kinds of shows and events you write, produce, direct, and create, there had to be some kind of major trauma involved.” He replied, “Nothing unusual. My mother says she dropped a toy Ferris wheel on my head, and anytime I do something unusual she blames herself for dropping a heavy toy on my noggin.” That could explain this new work as well.

The show concludes with an extended monologue by JCVD, who begins by warning, “I know what happened. I am me. I don’t need to read a Wikipedia page to know who I am. I did, however. Thoroughly. Ya know, for safety.”

There’s nothing safe about The Rise and Fall, Then Brief and Modest Rise Followed by a Relative Fall of . . . Jean Claude Van Damme as Gleaned by a Single Reading of His Wikipedia Page Months Earlier. But there is a whole lot that is hilariously entertaining. And that person sitting behind you, laughing even harder than you, just might be Timothy Haskell himself.

CASCANDO

Pan Pan’s Cascando takes cloaked and hooded audiences through the Village (photo by Ian Douglas)

CASCANDO
NYU Skirball
566 LaGuardia Pl.
Through July 3, $35
nyuskirball.org
www.panpantheatre.com

“What are they!?” a young woman shouted on a recent early evening in Washington Square Park as we marched in a slow procession, more than a dozen people wearing long black cloaks and hoods. She wasn’t the only one confused by what was happening. As we took off from NYU Skirball, we had to wind past graduating seniors in purple robes celebrating with friends and family; hopefully they didn’t take our silent appearance as a sign of impending doom.

A few months ago, I experienced Chasing Andy Warhol, Manhattan-based Bated Breath’s immersive production in which a guide led an audience of no more than sixteen on a walk through Greenwich Village, encountering different manifestations of the Pop artist that played out in vignettes on the streets, where passersby could stop and watch and take photos and video even if they didn’t quite know exactly what was going on, though the multiple Warhols were obvious.

I went on a very different kind of theatrical walk last week, Dublin-based Pan Pan theater’s immersive, mysterious adaptation of Samuel Beckett’s early 1960s “radio piece for music and voice,” Cascando. We gathered, put on robes and headphones (under our hoods), and sauntered in formation as we listened to two thick, Irish-accented voices read Beckett’s words. In 1936, Beckett had written a love poem with the same title, which American poet Robert Pinsky, in comparing it to William Butler Yeats’s “Adam’s Curse,” explained in Slate, “More passionate than dismissive, too dire and skeptical to be read at weddings, yet ardent, these poems are explicitly in conflict with writing itself, yet embrace it.” Just like Warhol’s films, such as Kitchen and Empire, where narrative storytelling conventions are hard to find, much of Beckett’s work, including Cascando, does not incorporate standard plotting devices either. In essence, Cascando is about the art of storytelling itself, but only as Beckett can tell it.

The half-hour tale is told by Dan Reardon as Opener, Andrew Bennett as Voice, and Jimmy Eadie as Music, as Beckett equates voice and music, the former about meaning, the latter feelings. The first words we hear are Opener saying, “It is the month of May . . . for me,” as if it might not be for the rest of us. That is about as specific as the piece gets as it deals with starting and finishing, getting lost, vague memories, an abstract sense of place, and what goes on inside one’s head. The words spoken by Bennett lead right into Eadie’s tense, dramatic instrumentals, sometimes with extended breaks that can make you wonder whether the narration is over. (Marcel Mihalovici composed the original score.)

In their book The Collected Poems of Samuel Beckett, editors Seán Lawlor and John Pilling elucidate that the term “‘cascando’ is (rarely) used in music to distinguish a diminuendo in volume and/or tempo,” particularly as the end approaches. The repetitive text, however, doesn’t really have a beginning, middle, or finale, or at least not in the way theatergoers generally expect.

In a low panting, Voice begins, “—story . . . if you could finish it . . . you could rest . . . sleep . . . not before . . . oh I know . . . the ones I’ve finished . . . thousands and one . . . all I ever did . . . in my life . . . with my life . . . saying to myself . . . finish this one . . . it’s the right one . . . then rest . . . sleep . . . no more stories . . . no more words . . . and finished it . . . and not the right one . . . couldn’t rest . . . straight away another . . . to begin . . . to finish . . . saying to myself . . . finish this one . . . then rest . . . this time . . . it’s the right one . . . this time . . . you have it . . . and finished it . . . and not the right one . . . couldn’t rest . . . straight away another . . . but this one . . . it’s different . . . I’ll finish it . . . then rest . . . it’s the right one . . . this time . . . I have it . . . I’ve got it . . . Woburn . . . I resume . . . a long life . . . already . . . say what you like . . . a few misfortunes . . . that’s enough . . . five years later . . . ten . . . I don’t know . . . Woburn . . . he’s changed . . . not enough . . . recognizable . . . in the shed . . . yet another . . . waiting for night . . . night to fall . . . to go out . . . go on . . . elsewhere . . . sleep elsewhere . . . it’s slow . . . he lifts his head . . . now and then . . . his eyes . . . to the window . . . it’s darkening . . . earth darkening . . . it’s night . . . he gets up . . . knees first . . . then up . . . on his feet . . . slips out . . . Woburn . . . same old coat . . . right the sea . . . left the hills . . . he has the choice . . . He has only—” Opener responds, “And I close. . . . I open the other.” Then music.

Much of the rest of the text continues that pace and language, a story about a story about Woburn that opens and closes and veers off into puzzling tangents that occasionally relate to the procession. “Don’t lose him . . . follow him . . . waiting for night . . . night to fall,” Voice says, as if reminding us to stay right behind the person in front of us (our own personal Woburn, who is described as wearing the “same old coat”?) as, indeed, dusk approaches. “It’s in his head,” Opener points out, and of course, this is all happening inside our heads. The back-and-forth language is reminiscent of what the anonymous protagonist declares in Beckett’s 1953 novel The Unnamable: “You must go on. I can’t go on. I’ll go on.”

Poetic procession passes people who are perplexed, take pictures, or are simply nonplussed (photo by Ian Douglas)

As we go on, getting closer to the conclusion and are ambling determinedly through Greenwich Village back to Skirball, Opener says, “Then the return. Where? To the village.” During the journey, a few people stopped and took pictures or video, some cast sideways glances, curious about who we were and what we were doing, but mostly passersby just ignored us, as if there was nothing strange or different about our ceremony. One graduate laughed, put his purple robe over his head, and joined in for a few steps. Fortunately, no one threw rocks, which creator and director Gavin Quinn said had occurred when Cascando was presented in Düsseldorf. (It has also been performed at the Barbican London, the Beckett Festival in Enniskillen, the Galway International Arts Festival, and the Samuel Beckett Theatre in Dublin.)

I highly recommend fully immersing yourself into the walk and embracing designer Aedín Cosgrove’s costume; if you bring a purse, pocketbook, or shoulder bag, make it a black one, and try to keep it inside the cloak to avoid any bits of color forming a distraction. Also, even though you’ll be outside, wear a black mask to cover much of whatever part of your face is visible to others; it will add to the anonymity and enigma of it all as passersby ponder whether you’re in a demonic cult or en route to an Eyes Wide Shut sex party.

Beckett himself called Cascando “an unimportant work but the best I have to offer. It does I suppose in a way show what passes for my mind and what passes for its work.” Pan Pan, which has staged such other Beckett concoctions as Endgame, Quad, Embers, and All That Fall in addition to adaptations of William Shakespeare, Bertolt Brecht, Anton Chekhov, Henrik Ibsen, Aldous Huxley, and Oscar Wilde, has put together a unique pilgrimage with Cascando, a personal journey as well as an homage to Beckett, a melding of the interior and the exterior, held in an area of New York City bubbling over with life, promise, and hope.

SigSpace: EMANCIPATED STORIES

Who: Quiara Alegría Hudes, Sean Ortiz, Sean Carvajal, Dominic Colón, Kenyatta Emmanuel, Suave Gonzales, Renee Goust, David Zayas, Kenyatta Emmanuel, Renee Goust, Jamie Maleszka, more
What: Installation and pop-up events
Where: Signature Theatre, the Pershing Square Signature Center Lobby, 480 West Forty-Second St. at Tenth Ave.
When: June 29 – July 24, Tuesday – Sunday, noon – 5:00, free
Why: Last summer, the Signature Theatre reopened with the immersive installation The Watering Hole, which included Vanessa German and Haruna Lee’s “This Room Is a Broken Heart,” part of which involved choosing a postcard designed by an incarcerated individual and sending a note to someone living behind bars. This summer the Signature has taken that a step further by teaming with the Fortune Society and Emancipated Stories to present an installation focusing on words and art by incarcerated people. Founded in 1967, the Fortune Society’s mission is “to support successful reentry from incarceration and promote alternatives to incarceration, thus strengthening the fabric of our communities . . . through believing, building lives, and changing minds.” Emancipated Stories was started by prison reform activist and playwright Quiara Alegría Hudes and her cousin Sean Ortiz, who spent ten years behind bars, as a way for incarcerated people to have their voices heard through handwritten letters that are shared on Instagram and in special installations.

Hudes, the Signature’s premiere writer-in-residence and author of such works as In the Heights, Water by the Spoonful, Daphne’s Dive, and Miss You Like Hell, explained in a statement, “The thing that’s fun and safe about theater is that the basic rule of engagement is one of listening. The fundamental contract is: I’m going to listen, I’m going to pay attention. Similarly, what we’re seeking to create is a communal space of sharing and openness. Within this installation and the events we’ve planned, the lines between audience and performer are more porous; it’s more of a gathering, and there’s no fourth wall, and we put the original letters in people’s hands. When you hold someone’s piece of paper and it’s handwritten — and you feel the grooves — it’s like holding someone’s hand. It’s an instant connection that’s part of the liveness of it. Surprising heart doors come open in these moments.”

“The Fortune Society is thrilled to be in community and collaboration with Signature Theatre and Quiara Alegría Hudes to help bring this insightful and moving project to life,” Fortune Society director of creative arts Jamie Maleszka added. “The goal of Emancipated Stories is to center and celebrate the full humanity of community members who are currently and formerly incarcerated and to grow meaningful connections through storytelling. The project perfectly aligns with our mission to build people, not prisons, and invest in more just collective futures.”

“SigSpace: Emancipated Stories” will be open in the theater lobby Tuesday through Sunday from June 29 through July 24, from noon to 5:00; admission is free. In addition, there will be four pop-up events, free with advance RSVP, featuring actors, artists, activists, musicians, writers, and members of the Fortune Society activating the installation, which was designed by Yazmany Arboleda with Emmanuel Oni, through music, discussions, readings, and writing letters in response to those from incarcerated individuals.

Wednesday, June 29
Kick-off, with actors David Zayas and Sean Carvajal, artist and activist Suave Gonzales, and Felix Guzman and Daniel Kelly of the Fortune Society, hosted by playwright Quiara Alegría Hudes, free with RSVP, 5:00 – 7:00

Wednesday, July 13
Music Night, with composer Kenyatta Emmanuel, singer-songwriter Renee Goust, writer and actor Dominic Colón, and others, hosted by Quiara Alegría Hudes, free with RSVP, 5:00 – 7:00

Sunday, July 17
Family Day, with Fortune Society community members and actor Sean Carvajal, moderated by Fortune Society director of creative arts Jamie Maleszka and Quiara Alegría Hudes, free with RSVP, noon – 2:00

Wednesday, July 20
Quiet Writing Time, free with RSVP, 5:00 – 7:00

PAUL MAHEKE: A FIRE CIRCLE FOR A PUBLIC HEARING

Paul Maheke rehearses A fire circle for a public hearing before US debut on the High Line this week (photo by twi-ny/mdr)

Who: Paul Maheke, Morgan “Emme” Bryant, Lucy Hollier, Rafaelle Kennibol-Cox
What: High Line Art live performance
Where: The High Line at Fourteenth St.
When: June 28-30, free (advance RSVP recommended), 7:00
Why: “My work is always in reaction or in response to a certain space, a certain context,” multidisciplinary French artist Paul Maheke said in a 2018 discussion about his installation A fire circle for a public hearing at Chisenhale Gallery in London. “Often in my exhibitions, there is this notion of welcoming people in the space, whether they are collaborators or members of the audience.” Maheke is reimagining A fire circle for a public hearing for its US debut, taking place in the Fourteenth St. tunnel passage on the High Line June 28-30 at 7:00. He will be joined by dancers Morgan “Emme” Bryant and Rafaelle Kennibol-Cox and trombonist Lucy Hollier. The piece combines music, movement, and spoken word as Maheke explores marginalization, hypervisibility, erasure, and identity.

Paul Maheke’s A fire circle for a public hearing premiered at Chisenhale Gallery in London in 2018 (photo by Mark Blower)

“Paul’s work asks important questions about what it means to be a body onstage, and how a single person is able to hold many shared and overlapping histories in a single gesture. He encourages us to think about what is seen and what is not seen, both in the performance of a single person, but also in our wider cultures and histories at large,” High Line Art associate curator Melanie Kress said in a statement. Judging from a rehearsal I saw a few days ago, this is a powerful work with a lot to say about where we are at this moment in history.