I have thee not, and yet I see thee still.

The Caroline set is being struck.  Kushner & Tesori are back in NYC (their presence at the second-to-last performance, which you may have seen on Chris Jones’s blog here, was a complete surprise to the cast and staff–everyone but Charlie, who was sworn to secrecy).  The cast is moving on to other shows, middle school, or childbirth.

And here in the office we are getting ready to welcome SITI Company back to Chicago.

The last time SITI was here was exactly two years ago, when they brought Hotel Cassiopeia, a gentle and moving exploration of the effects of deceleration, quiet, stillness, and non-narrative emotional storytelling disguised as a biographical play about Joseph Cornell.  Not every audience found a way in to the piece, which opened with Barney O’Hanlon softly reciting a list of sugary foods while a Satie Gymnopedie unfolded underneath his voice.  I saw Hotel, I think, seven times.  Something about being asked to slow myself down, to contemplate images instead of following events, and watching SITI’s peculiar performance style (characterized by the performers’ extraordinary physical control and spatial awareness) was an aesthetic palette cleanser for me.  I was engaged, yet calm, and my mind was given plenty of room to wander around the space while I watched.  It reminded me that “Twice as fast, twice as loud: twice as good!” is not actually an immutable rule of theater (though it is an immensely useful note under some circumstances).  Every time I saw Hotel I left refreshed, like I’d meditated or taken a bath.

Radio Macbeth isn’t going to be like Hotel Cassiopeia.

For one thing, instead of the curious, wandering, everyday poetry of Charles Mee, the text is entirely Shakespeare’s.  What SITI brings to the text (beyond the de rigeur and aforementioned physical control and awareness derived from their unique training method), and what makes it “Radio” is a new staging that emphasizes not only the play’s spooky horror elements but also its history as theater.  Because unlike, for instance, Orson Welles’s “voodoo” Macbeth or any number of other high concept productions that layer the trappings of a particular world onto the play, Radio Macbeth works by appearing to strip the play down, removing the theatricality, and showing you a group of actors, in street clothes, in a theater.  Except not really–there’s still a set, and a costume design, and the world isn’t our own, nor is it Shakespeare’s.  It’s a world where all productions cohabitate, where the thousand versions of Banquo’s ghost sit on top of each other and watch the play, comparing notes.  What’s it like for an actor to step into four-hundred-year-old blood-sogged shoes, aware of every Mackers before him, but unable to change the story’s course for all his knowledge?

Because most of us have seen it before, many times.  Why bother pretending it’s all happening for the first time right now, like we don’t all know exactly how it ends?  Do we need another Macbeth like that, even if the soldiers are carrying guns or their uniforms are vaguely Nazi or the witches are made up like (scary nurses/prostitutes/schoolmarms/fill-in-the-blank)?  By acknowledging the play’s history, SITI Co. are actually asking a bigger question, one with more immediate implications than “Can Macbeth murder his way to the throne?” or even “To what lengths will unchecked ambition drive a man?” or whatever other dramatic question you want to make the spine of your production.  They’re asking “Why have we been watching this for all these years?  What is it in this brutal, insane play that we want to see so badly?  What is it in us that wants to see it?”

See what Caroline can do

Caroline, Or Change is going strong! While reviews and audience comments have been pretty focused on the spectacular voices and engaging performances by the cast and band, I think it’s worth taking a second look at the visual components of the show–the designs and staging–and how they contribute to its extraordinary effect. (All photos by Michael Brosilow)

JFK

Above we’ve got the “JFK” sequence, when Stuart’s parents come to the house to announce the President’s death. Upstage is the Moon, harbinger of chaos and change, in a pool of blue light that spills out onto the stairs. Notice that Charlie has separated Grandpa and Grandma Gellman on either side of the basement square, even though they arrived together and are ostensibly in the same room. Abstracting the space this way allows for heightened moments like Dottie delivering her lines to Grandpa Gellman, as you can see here, even though there is no diagetic reason for the two of them to be interacting.

Introducing the Washing Machine

This shot is from the beginning of the show, when we first see the Washing Machine doing her work. The text on her dress is ad copy from 60s washers–the dryer has similar text on his costume. The references to early-century work clothes are contrasted with the color choice–a 60s-ish pale green.

Nat King Cole

And here we have the first moment of really heavy theatrical lighting–you’ve probably seen this picture on ads or in e-blasts. The dryer is doing his thing–a gesture with a much bigger footprint than the relatively compact movements of the Washing Machine. The Dryer’s ability to take over the environment of the basement with heat and humidity is his major feature in the text.

Why you like me? I ain't never nice to you.

Caroline and Noah can’t help thinking about one another–in this scene they share an imagined conversation, each of them in his or her own house, late at night.

Have you seen the show yet? What did you think?

What’s it like under water?

Brittany A. Little, Production Dramaturg:

Let me tell you, this has been a fantastic experience for me–hectic and a little intimidating, but fantastic. Being a third-year History major at the University of Chicago and an artist, the chance to really dig deep into a work like Kushner’s, with a cast and production team as wonderful as this one (Charles Newell and E. Faye Butler…what more can you ask for in life?) has allowed me to bring my academic and artistic lives together.

I’ve been working with Court for a while now. I started as an intern in the Development office (hey guys!), went on to work as the Assistant Director of last season’s The First Breeze of Summer with Resident Artist Ron OJ Parson (One of my favorite people) and then I found myself trusted with this position, one usually handled by someone older and with a lot more experience than I. But that’s why I love Court–they give younger people like me, the opportunity to learn new things and grow under their guidance.

So, it was either sink or swim and I was determined to swim because I could not let Court down. I must admit, it was daunting at first. I had to balance a fellowship with a theater across town, make time to wrap my head around all of the complex themes that are featured in Caroline, and present them in the most informative and beneficial way possible.

Complexity is a feature of Tony Kushner’s work and Caroline is no exception. This musical touches on so many topics that are rarely seen in theater that my job was difficult (rarely, for instance, do we see African-American women at the heart of a full-scale show). With Caroline, I found myself elbow deep in books, microfilm and documentaries trying to find images and written accounts of these silently suffering Southern maids who seldom got to tell their stories. Add that to other themes like the Civil Rights Movement, racism, segregation, poverty, JFK, Jewish/Black relations, music of the 1960s, the Jewish American, Louisiana and domestic appliances and you end up with stacks and stacks of some of the most interesting material that a Dramaturg could ask for.

To work on such a huge show with a cast and crew this experienced made me nervous, and I rarely doubt my abilities. How much is too much and how much is too little? These worries plagued me until I sat down with Charlie and realized that he liked his research short but informative. Answer his inquires, send out anything that I find interesting to the team and give the actors a 20-page packet with lots of great pictures. Charlie gave me freedom to explore and share my findings and I really began to fall in love with the material.

By the time rehearsal came along, I was so excited that I was ready to share everything with the cast (whether they were interested or not). So, I put up a table full of books and historical research in the rehearsal room but honestly thought that the cast wouldn’t even glance at. I was wrong–they actually checked items out and wanted further information! That is what is so great about having an extraordinarily talented and intelligent cast. They really worked at their characters so that they could present the best show possible. They asked such fascinating questions that I was excited to find the answers for them. The cast and the entire production process motivated me, as a student and an artist.

There is nothing like watching the indescribably fabulous E. Faye Butler and Music Director Doug Peck work through a song note by note, Kate Fry find the subtlety in a phrase, Harriet Nzinga Plumpp flow effortlessly between characters, Iris Lieberman execute perfect comedic timing or the child actors scramble through their hilarious first act number. Being able to add to that experience in my small, complicated way feels amazing. As I sit and watch the final product, I can see a little Martha and the Vandellas in the Radio, know the significance of the oil that fries the latkes, and understand the desperation in Caroline. It makes me realize how much insight Caroline, Or Change has to offer to the audience.

Gibbous moon tonight

I read somewhere once that the health of a society can be measured by the health and behavior of its frogs. When the frogs are acting out of character, something is up. I don’t remember where I read that…I assume it’s bunk, but it’s a compelling image.

Anyone seen a CAROLINE preview yet? What’d you think?

For those who haven’t, we’ve got photos coming up, and a post by our production Dramaturg.

You gotta let go of where you’ve been (ALSO: CONTEST!)

The preview process at Court Theatre is my favorite part of working here. If you’ve ever seen a Court show twice, once in early previews and once later in the run, you may understand why. If a Court show doesn’t change wildly during previews, it’s an anomaly–I can’t remember the last Charlie show I saw where the ending at the second performance was the same as the ending at opening. The first ten minutes of Titus were completely rethought in response to the first audiences’ experience (if you caught that show in early previews you saw a glitzy party of decadent youths, which by opening had transformed into a highly ritualistic military exercise), and the ending of Arcadia (and thus that show’s final communication on the subject of its themes) was different almost every night during that first two weeks (I’m personally still dubious about the dramaturgical justification for the two eras’ dancers connecting so directly in that moment, but of the choices we tried, it was the strongest by far).

I wonder sometimes if preview audiences get how necessary to the process they are–some patrons look on previews as “less-than” or incomplete, but actually I think they should be considered a totally different experience from seeing a show after it opens. Audiences during the run are, of course, directly participating in the creation and sustenance of a piece of live, four-dimensional art, and the theater does not exist without them. But preview audiences are participating in the building of the piece, teaching the cast and designers how the show works. When you’re bored, or engaged, or offended, or moved, we know it just by being in the room with you. And the audience is never wrong.

Caroline starts previews in just under a week. And to encourage you to think about preview performances as not just a less-expensive ticket for a less-polished show, I am going to give away a pair of tickets to a first-week preview (Sept. 11-14). In order to get these tickets, post a comment with the names of the seven Court Theatre productions represented at the top of this page. That’s right: A CONTEST!! The first reader to get all seven will get two free tickets to help us figure out the ending (or maybe the beginning, or maybe the big Channukah party scene) of Caroline, or Change. TO THE COMMENTS!

This house got a basement

The set is built, hung, and painted. It is gorgeous–I can’t wait for you to see it. The cast starts working on it Thursday afternoon, spending one day getting used to the space, and then we’re in technical rehearsals starting Friday, integrating lights, sound, costumes, and props.

What follows is my condensation of the design concepts presented at first rehearsal, with images of the set model by Scenic Designer John Culbert, and renderings by Costume Designer Jacqueline Firkins. Caveat: this description is based on notes I took way back on August 12th. Staging ideas have undoubtedly developed, changed, been scrapped and rethought since then.

The anchor of the set design is the central location of the basement, a sunken cement square that can also function as, for instance, the kitchen in the Channukah Party scene. In order to accommodate the band and still have floorspace for all the staging the show requires, the design includes a wide balcony space, on which the Radio ladies and the Moon will also do the bulk of their work. The stairs upstage center will be Stuart’s primary domain, evoking his characteristic sense of being trapped in a state of transition, unsure of where and how to land.

Set model by John Culbert

Notice the image covering the rest of the floor. This is a photograph of the early-evening Louisiana sky, taken through the trees. The disorienting up-is-down effect and the high contrast of the light blue sky and dark green foliage create an abstracted theatrical space in which a variety of locations can be evoked through simple furniture and creative staging. While initially, as you can sort of see in the photo, the design called for a photo-realistic painting, the gesture has since simplified into a more painterly, abstract pattern, which will be covered with a high gloss. The center ceiling panel contains some surprises that I won’t spoil here. The bottom face of it will be covered with the same painted image as the floor.

The costume design incorporates gestures from two different worlds. The first is, of course, the standard historical realism of 1963. This is mostly what you see in the photo.

Costume renderings by Jacqueline Firkins

But take note of two images: the man in the far right-center of the photo, and the woman in the gown in the middle, surrounded by reference photos. The man on the right is the Dryer, and he, along with the Washing Machine, is being dressed in a vocabulary reminiscent of early-century work clothes, with a few theatricalizing surprises thrown in (spellcheck doesn’t recognize “theatricalizing”, but if it’s not a word, it should be). In the center we have the Moon, in elegant evening attire that sets her apart from the other characters, both “real” (Caroline, Dottie, Noah, etc.) and anthropomorphized (Bus, Dryer, etc.). This dress connects the Moon somewhat with the similarly-stylish Radio, whom you can see sitting in the center of the balcony in the set model (by the way, in case you didn’t notice, the figures in the model are built from copies of Jacqueline’s renderings–the woman just upstage of the basement square with the headdress? That’s the Washing Machine).

Charlie Newell: “One of the biggest design challenges inherent in the show is this question about the Washer and Dryer. If you put an actual washer and dryer on stage, does that make it easier for the audience to understand, or not? Because then you’ve got the actors on stage singing and you’re asking, who the hell are those people standing next to the washer and dryer? And most of the time the actor is saying ‘I’M A WASHING MACHINE.’ So that’s kind of a clue. We’re in two worlds: 1963 and the world of ‘What is human about these other characters?’”

Jacqueline Firkins: “These are people, they have human qualities, and they have sensibilities. So we want them in clothes, we don’t want to say this is not a human, this is not a soul.”

My daily task is done

Hi, I’m Harriet Nzinga Plumpp. I am the Washing Machine and the Moon in Caroline, or Change.

Well, let’s see….where to begin. First off, I want to say how happy I am to be back on my feet in rehearsals. My son is 11 months old and I have not done a show since my first trimester with him in the Winter/Spring of ’07. Our cast is full of parents so I feel a great sense of support–Yay to that!  It’s an even bigger delight to be in rehearsals at Court Theatre.  Caroline, or Change is my third musical at Court (I had the pleasure of working on Man of La Mancha and Raisin).  It is great to be back.

Just yesterday I was conversing with Melanie Brezill, who plays Emmie in the show.  We were discussing how valuable the rehearsal process with Charlie Newell is for us as actors. At Court, the musical is treated first and foremost like a play.  This theatre definitely strives to present a strong, focused point of view. Many of us have been in this business for many years and have experienced a rehearsal process that does not allow time to explore and to ask questions about who you are as your character.  It should be natural…second nature. For me as an audience member, it’s much more enjoyable to follow an actor’s journey when every breath, every gesture and thought has intent behind it. Oooweee, don’t get me wrong, this is not an easy feat–but, it’s a great thing to strive for.  In rehearsal, Charlie gives us this time to explore. Which is, as Charlie says, “fantastic!”. So, hopefully, by the time you see the show our instincts are settling in. You can feel our anguish, our joy, anticipation etc… This takes a lot of energy, focus, and patience from everyone and can be exhausting.

We did our first run-thru of the show two days ago and I was exhausted afterward, in a good way;-)  Because I am playing the Washing Machine and the Moon I need to figure out how to separate the two vocally, mentally, and physically.  This past weekend it dawned on me that whatever energy Caroline (E. Faye) has I must feed off of it for the Washing Machine to work.  The W.M. is truly a part of Caroline.  Once that clicked, I was able to start taking the W.M. and the Moon on their own separate journeys.

I’m off to rehearsal now, so I look forward to seeing you in the house.  Enjoy the show!  I have a great feeling that you will.

Peace, Harriet Nzinga Plumpp

We’re scientific people

Rob Lindley, actor playing Stuart Gellman:

“My father is a clarinet” says Noah about my character Stuart Gellman, based on Tony Kushner’s own father, Bill, who was a concert clarinetist. Stuart is often in a practice room playing the clarinet and brings his clarinet with him to the family Channukah party. The clarinet is one of the ways my character expresses himself.

I wish you could all be in the rehearsal hall right now. All of the actors are on a 20-minute break and musical director Doug Peck and our clarinet player Adam DeGroot are going through the music for the big Channukah Party in CAROLINE, OR CHANGE. The music is just thrilling!

I played the saxophone all through school, so when I was cast as a woodwind player I thought, “perfect – maybe I can play some of Stuart’s clarinet licks.” I soon discovered that it wasn’t going to be nearly as easy as I thought! But I have been meeting with Adam (for my clarinet lessons) so that we can perform the long clarinet solos (every thing from traditional Jewish Klezmer music to a Mozart concerto) as a unit. I am planning on videotaping Adam playing so that I can do my best to replicate the fingering of the solos and know when Adam is going to take a breath so that we can truly be in sync. Think of Glenn Close lip syncing to Kiri Te Kanawa in “Meeting Venus” – or something like that.

This is definitely one of those special shows that makes me feel like I’m sitting on a big secret that I can’t wait for other people to see. The rehearsals are breathtaking. I can hardly wait to see what the actual performances will be like.

Gonna pass me a law

Doug Peck

August 23, 2008

Hello from Doug Peck, music director of Caroline, or Change.  This is my seventh show at Court (James Joyce’s The Dead revival, Guys and Dolls, The Importance of Being Earnest, Man of La Mancha, Raisin, Carousel), and it gets better and richer and more fulfilling every time.  Collaborating with Charlie and the amazing casts we always manage to assemble is the highlight of my year.

We’re just about to finish the second week of rehearsal, and it’s going very well.  Because of the difficulty of the music, we have really taken our time learning the score.  For those readers that don’t do musical theatre for a living (that means you, Jack Tamburri), you usually get less than a full day to learn the music and then off you go into staging.  However, in assembling Caroline, we spent a full day just reading the lyrics out loud, two full days discussing all of composer Jeanine Tesori’s musical markings, and then three full days actually learning the twelve complex scenes.  Now, as we stage each scene (we finish scene six tomorrow), we review music at the start of each day.  I’m so proud of the cast as they are patient with themselves.  I started several rehearsals saying “No one here is dumb, no one here is untalented” just so no one felt defeated by the high level of musical difficulty.

I’m thrilled we were able to take this time (many theaters have much shorter rehearsal processes than Court), because it means we are not only going to perform the score accurately, but we are taking the time to figure out WHY Tesori and Tony Kushner made these compositional choices.  For example, if the score says we should get softer and faster, we’re not just executing it, we’re discovering the character and story-telling reasons to do so.  I’m proud of Charlie on his journey in directing musicals, because his eyes and ears have become very sensitive to these kinds of things and it’s wonderful how he reflects them in the staging and character work.

It goes without saying that being back in the room with E Faye Butler is a thrill.  We’ve done two Court galas together, as well as Chicago Shakespeare’s production of Seussical.  One of the things I love about Chicago theatre is the diversity of roles our actors get to tackle.  I don’t think you’d ever see Tonya Pinkins as the Cat in the Hat or Cathy Rigby as Caroline Thibodeaux!  The great thing about tackling a score this intricate with an actor this wonderful is that you really feel like you are working together, discovering each nuance and dynamic.  As E Faye memorizes the material and gets the pages out of her hands, she is amazing to watch.  Her Caroline is already fascinating and deep (and amazingly sung).

One musical highlight is the quartet in scene eight between Melanie Brezill (Caroline’s daughter Emmie), Rob Lindley (young Noah’s widower father Stuart), Harriet Nzinga Plumpp (the omniscient moon), and Kate Fry (Stuart’s new wife).  It is a perfect blend of pop and Jewish and classical styles of music, and the four singers work so well together.  Dennis Kelly, our Mister Stopnick, commented that it’s refreshing to hear young singers sing in the center of the pitch.  I would add that, beyond the perfect singing, they’re all working together so beautifully, following every dynamic in Tesori’s music and every twist in Kushner’s words.

Tomorrow we finish staging scene six, working with our terrific young performers Malcolm, Jack, Donavan, Micah, and Greg as well as Harriet, Melanie, and E Faye.  We’re working toward a work through of Act One on Sunday, which will be very exciting.

Thanks to Jack and everyone at the Court for setting up this blog, so those of us involved with the production can share our excitement about this production.

Nothing ever happens underground

Charlie Newell, addressing the cast of Caroline, Or Change at First Rehearsal:

‘Welcome, everyone!  The start of the season is always a peculiarly exciting time, and this year is my 15th at Court Theatre.  It feels to me like it really took us 15 years to get to this room with this cast doing this show.  Everything happens in its time.  I can’t imagine a more appropriate show to open our season.

‘Caroline, Or Change is the largest single production that Court Theatre has ever attempted.  We tried to do it in the past, we tried to figure out when and how, and only now have the stars aligned to make it possible.  Don’t do Hamlet unless you know who’s gonna play Hamlet.  With Miss E. Faye Butler we have our Caroline.  The first time I ever worked with E. Faye I put her on roller skates and threw ping-pong balls at her.  (E. Faye: “I thought you were insane.  But I did it.”)  When E. Faye and I worked together on Little Foxes we found that her character turned out to be the heart and soul of that entire production.

‘When we knew we were ready to do Caroline, we got an email from Tony Kushner, saying, essentially, “I’m so glad it’s finally happening in Chicago and I’m especially glad it’s gonna be at Court Theatre.  Can I do anything to help?”  Now, I mostly deal with dead playwrights.  And we talk all the time, but not like this.  I called Tony and he gave me incredibly helpful advice, insights, thoughts about how the piece developed, what’s happened to it—it’s been all over the world.  He’s seen many other productions besides the original Broadway that George Wolfe directed.  I have not seen any productions of this piece.  Actors and musicians will hear from Tony throughout rehearsal, as I took detailed notes during that conversation.  For today’s chat I want to share the following:  Tony wrote this story out with no caps, no punctuation, single spaced; 12 scenes with an epilogue, and he handed it to Jeanine Tesori.  She went away and she composed the first draft.  Tony characterized his relationship with Jeanine as “psychotic admiration.”  She took his autobiographical story, this incredible text that he wrote out, and she created this completely sung-through story with music.  Doug and I are only beginning to understand the level and depth of the leitmotifs–there are phrases/ideas/themes/melodies/gestures/words that are established and then return in different ways by multiple people throughout the piece–variations on variations, and the density and complexity, as Tony said, is like Wagner.  It’s the complexity of opera.

‘In a letter he wrote for the London production, Tony says, “I never like to say what a play of mine means or what it’s about.  I certainly don’t write plays to make this or that point.  I began Caroline guided by a sense of loss, both personal and political.”

‘He doesn’t want to talk about what it means, but I’m gonna take a stab at it.

‘So, change.  One of the ways we define ourselves as human beings is through an understanding that change is constant.  We are constantly in a place of change.  Kushner, through his own sense of loss, his own politics, grapples with a very complicated idea about how we humans handle/manage//respond to change.  Most difficult is change you can’t control yourself.  I’m a director, so I’m a control freak.  So I often say, “I love change!  Let’s try something different!  We already did that, we’re gonna do something new!”  But then I encounter change I can’t control; change I have to manage in all my ridiculous stupid humble doubt.  And this piece taps into that in so many complicated ways.  Don’t make any mistake—it ain’t just about Caroline’s managing of change.  It’s about all of the people in this world.  Everybody is dealing with change in profound ways.  Everybody is dealing with profound loss.  Loss is the kind of change you can’t control.  Clearly Kushner & Tesori were interested in creating a musical which, at the eleventh hour everybody doesn’t end happy.  It doesn’t end like a fairy tale.  It’s a very mature, human story that carries you all the way to the end through music.  And we’re taking a risk because people want musicals to do something else.

‘I’m a visual guy, so I look at the score—and it’s dense.  On any given page there’s four things going on at once, just in the vocal lines.  And that density is what excites me.

‘I want to be clear, even as much of this story is catalyzed out of loss, just listen to the music.  It’s an incredible affirmation of human capacity–a celebration (I use that word carefully) of life as we deal with these complicated issues.  That spirit infuses the piece from the top, a celebration of life even as these human beings are managing change.

‘We have a lot of work to do.  We’re gonna have a hell of a good time.  We have an open rehearsal policy, so there will be people around, observing.  And if you come to watch, I’m gonna ask your opinion.  Because we’re always pushing to the next place, making it better, clearer, and more complicated.’