The thea-tah.

In the past few weeks, Tim and I have really stepped up our theatre consumption.

Our first stop was in early February was The Wake at Chemically Imbalanced Theatre (polished review here). Acting was 7 out of 10 for most characters, especially those over 40 years old. There was a child actor in the play and every line sounded like "Aunt Schmancy I wuliturd my schief!" Rushed and mumbled. But I kinda liked that, because that's how kids talk, and it was a small stage and house, so it was okay.

HOW SMALL WAS IT? So small that I was nearly a piece of the action every time an actor exited stage right, depending on which way my legs were crossed. Seriously. It was distractingly small, and Tim's favorite part was when an actor poured a cup of coffee down the kitchen drain and you could hear it dribble into the five gallon bucket placed underneath. Heh.


On to bigger and better things. HOLY GEEZ we went to another production on Friday for the Goodman's celebration of Eugene O'Neil. The Hairy Ape by The Hypocrites.

Amazing. Just amazing. To me, the difference between a play and a production is the lighting and sound design. In ND, it was usually accepted that these were not a necessity, so when I see productions where the sound design is just as important to setting the scene as the actors on the stage, it creates an experience that extends my willing suspension of disbelief. Meow. Chris Sullivan, the actor who played Yank, was FRIGHTENING. It was great. I can't wait to see more of this company.

NEED MORE THEATRE THIS WEEKEND? Good. Because I dragged Tim out to another play on Saturday night (I'm falling in love with Chicago). Teatro Vista had their preview weekend for Our Lady of the Underpass. This was the first new work I have seen in Chicago, and Tim and I were both pleasantly surprised. It would have been even funnier if I spoke Spanish. While a young woman was relating that she had run out of sexy things to say to her non-Spanish speaking finance in bed, Tim leaned over and whispered "she said, 'I'm going to the store to buy papayas.'" Audience cracks up, Ruth nods slowly.

The play was a series of monologues of people that have visited the Virgin Mary-looking salt stain on the Fullerton Avenue underpass, just a couple blocks from our apartment. A young Latino man who appointed himself operations manager of the alter, a Polish nurse protecting her mother, and a homophobic, jogging Chad gave us an insight on the different opinions of Chicagoans regarding worship of a cement wall. Lots of inside jokes, including a reference to the house on Logan Boulevard with twenty electrified reindeer perched on the lawn November through January, made me feel like a real Chicagoan. Mmm. Warm fuzzies.

Coming from North Dakota, I have a very low set of expectations for theatre. I'm hoping to see more and more, and hopefully volunteer to learn more about stage direction, lighting, and most specifically, sound design. Less on the costume and make-up, more on the nuts and bolts. I'm also hoping to see the following productions in the next month:

Beer - Neo Futurists produce a show in a brewery. WITH PUPPETS!

The Little Foxes - Shattered Globe Theatre

Strange Interlude - Another Eugene O'Neill, but this one is over five hours and incorporates a dinner break. YES.