Kendall Maxwell

Southbank: Seeing ‘Red’ in Black and White

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By John Lyle Belden

American-born actor Ira Aldridge was the first man of African descent to play the lead role in Shakespeare’s “Othello” on the London stage in 1833.

(The tragic character Othello, as most know, was a Moor, dark-skinned from African heritage. But especially as he is the title role, even when Black actors were available in England he was always played by a White man in blackface.)

The play “Red Velvet,” by Lolita Chakrabarti, presented by Southbank Theatre Company, is about this and more, taking measure of a complex and controversial artist with particular emphasis on one of his many milestones.

We open and close the play in 1867 with Aldridge (Daniel Wilke) on what would be his final tour of Europe, performing “King Lear” in Lodz, Poland. We learn he has been a celebrity throughout the Continent and in the U.K., where he also managed a theatre. Turning 60, he is impatient, blustery, and forbids any press interviews (we’ll understand why later).

A young Polish reporter, Halina (Hannah Embree), manages to make her way into his dressing room, talking the actor into taking a few questions. Feeling her to be impertinent, he then sends her away. However, the memories have been triggered, and our scene switches to London, more than 30 years earlier.

During a sold-out London production of “Othello,” famed actor Edmond Kean, in the title role, has collapsed on stage and will never tread the boards again. Theatre manager Pierre LaPorte (Brant Hughes), a friend of Aldridge, sees a chance to make theatre history. Politically progressive company member Henry Forester (J Charles Weimer), who also supports the demonstrations against slavery in the British Empire raging at the time, likes the idea, but fellow thespians Bernard Ward (Doug Powers) and especially Kean’s son Charles (Matt Hartzburg) – who plays the Moor’s murderous rival Iago – do not.

It is argued that the British stage is for escapist fantasy, where a regular (White) person can pretend to be something he is not. This form of stark realism, Ward remarks, is as absurd as a real simpleton playing Caliban or a real Jew as Shylock. Still, LaPorte is adamant and the show goes on, with Aldridge baring his natural face.

While the men seem to fit archetypes one would expect to see in a story of shaking up things in a treasured institution, the women each take an intriguing perspective.

Ellen Tree (Liz Carrier), like the tragic female lead Desdemona that she plays, seems caught in the middle. She must act opposite Aldridge, the focus of this controversy, and she is the fiancé of Charles Kean, who threatens to walk out in protest. Her allegiance is to the company, and she seems intrigued by this American’s approach to the play and its characters. Wilke and Carrier, like the actors they portray, skillfully present themselves as professionals rehearsing a married couple who must stand close and touch each other as they are bonded by love and destroyed by jealousy. Is that all we see? Neither they nor Chakrabarti’s script under the direction of Donna McFadden give us an easy or definitive answer.

In a role of sublime subtlety capped by the profound moments when she finally speaks her mind, Kendall Maxwell is exquisite as the servant Connie. Just her presence at the back of the room – standing in contrast to the man of color who is treated as a peer and equal to the others who only see her as little more than a tea-serving automaton – speaks volumes.

Rachel Kelso plays Aldrige’s wife, Margaret, casually trusting and true to her famous husband. Her understanding helps buoy our feelings for Ira Aldridge, who in turn expresses genuine affection for her, especially when she is no longer with him.

Embree is also impressive, giving us a character having to power through her own issues in a society determined to limit her.

Also, in the 1867 scenes Weimer amusingly plays a randy German stagehand, while Powers is Aldridge’s longsuffering personal assistant.

Hughes delivers a sharp performance as one struggling to keep both a career and a friendship without losing both. His character’s Frenchness makes him a sufficient outsider to be the catalyst of change, still, he’s all (show) business for his role in these events.

We come to find in the play’s title an aspect of Aldridge’s life’s arc. He recalls peering through velvet curtains as a boy to see his first plays; as an adult, he dons a crimson velvet cloak as the Moor. (Just one of many excellent costumes by Karen Cones.) Turning convention on its head, in preparing to play the aging King, he applies greasepaint to lighten his skin.

A reflection and commentary on racial and gender discrimination that has us considering how much has truly changed, and what it has taken to change it, wrapped in an intriguing portrait of a historic individual, “Red Velvet” has one weekend of performances left, Thursday through Sunday, May 1-4, at Shelton Auditorium, 1000 W. 42nd Street, Indianapolis (Butler University campus).  Get info and tickets at southbanktheatre.org.

Southbank takes up Quixote quest

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By John Lyle Belden

“Take a deep breath of life and consider how it should be lived.”

These words spoken by Miguel de Cervantes as his creation Don Quixote in the musical “Man of La Mancha” help sum up the method behind the madness of the deluded knight at the center of the story – and is perhaps his most lucid advice.

Southbank Theatre Company and its founder, director Marcia Eppich-Harris, present the man, the madness, and the dangerous times in which this celebrated satirical novel came forth in their current production of the Broadway classic. Written in the 1960s by Dale Wasserman with music by Mitch Leigh and lyrics by Albert Marre, the story is loosely adapted from Cervantes’s 1605 book, portraying the author working through select scenes and characters in the more sweeping novel.

In the late 1500s, the dreaded Spanish Inquisition has arrested Cervantes (Paul Hansen), along with his servant (Anthony Nathan), not for a certain book he has yet to finish, or for being an actor or playwright, but because in his temporary employ as a tax collector, he tried to foreclose on a church. This lands him in our principal setting, a spacious communal dungeon in which the other prisoners mill about, seeking to cure their boredom. Their Governor (Scott Hall) declares the newcomer should stand trial for charges of the criminals’ choosing.

Cervantes seizes the opportunity – both to buy time and see how his stories are received by others – and “defends” himself by putting on our main story, the play within the play. Pasting on gray whiskers, he declares himself Don Quixote, with his servant now the farmer-turned-squire Sancho Panza. Other prisoners join in as various characters as needed.

If you know nothing else of this tale of an aging minor nobleman who reads one too many medieval romances and thinks himself the last defender of Chivalry, you have probably heard about the windmill. It’s actually a small part of the story, and Quixote’s charge against the four-armed “giant” happens quite soon in the musical. This is how we theatre folk get you, casual fan: come for the windmill tilting, stay for the meaningful stuff.

The plot really gets rolling when Quixote and Sancho arrive at an inn, which our knight sees as a castle (naturally). The Innkeeper (Hall) humors them, and we meet the other guests, a gang of muleteers led by Pedro (Kevin Caraher) who harass Aldonza (Jessica Hawkins), the wench serving up drinks, and maybe something more if the price is right. Quixote sees the woman, envisioning a high-born lady whom he declares to be “Dulcinea.”

Meanwhile in La Mancha, Quixote’s niece Antonia (Ashton Driscoll) and housekeeper (Yolanda Valdiva) enlist the help of a priest (Jericho Franke) and Dr. Carrasco (Rachel Serago) to find the man and bring him back to his senses.

The cast also includes Kendall Maxwell, Scott Stockton, Amalia Howard, Susannah Briscoe, Aaron Henze, Andrea Haskett, and Will Harris, who also plays guitar in coordination with the backstage orchestra, led by Seth Young.

A notable aspect of Cervantes’s satire is the comedy of good intentions gone awry, usually with others hurt while our oblivious old man goes blithely onward. This especially hurts Aldonza, who ironically becomes the one who most gets the point of this pointless adventure in the end. Thus, the musical asks a lot of Hawkins, and she is more than up to the challenge. She is compelling and commanding as a woman coming to terms with the possibility that her horrid past and present don’t define her future.

Veteran actor Hansen captures that perfect mix of maturity and whimsy to tackle his double-role. In both modes, he exudes confidence that stays a step ahead of the fear of a darker reality. Nathan, who must have been a court jester in a past life, is totally in his comic wheelhouse here. Serago, who as a prisoner is Cervantes’s “prosecutor” at trial, keeps one guessing if maybe the good Doctor is getting a kick out of tormenting Quixote in his efforts to save him.

There is much to unpack thematically, especially the simultaneous folly of and need for striving for a higher ethos. Perhaps this is why its most famous song, “The Impossible Dream,” resonates so much for so many. Hear it in context and see the “Man of La Mancha” at remaining performances Thursday through Sunday, March 14-17. at Shelton Auditorium, 1000 W. 42nd St., Indianapolis (edge of Butler University). For tickets and information, go to southbanktheatre.org.

Troy story gets musical treatment, giving the women their say

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By John Lyle Belden

“Troilus and Cressida” is regarded as one of Shakespeare’s “problem plays,” problematic for both its blending of comedy and tragedy, and the unclear resolution of the title characters’ story. But it is set during the myth-shrouded events of the Trojan War – and war is messy.

In crafting “Troilus & Cressida: The Musical” for Southbank Theatre Company, Marcia Eppich-Harris adds to her adaptation a series of songs she wrote and composed, giving the production an operatic feel and allowing her to emphasize the plight of those who suffered most: the women of Troy.

Our narrator is the prophetess Cassandra (Yolanda Valdivia). True to legend, her words are frequently ignored when they don’t say what Trojan (male) leaders want to hear. Therefore, it is up to us to listen.

Seven years into the siege of Troy, the Greeks – led by Agamemnon (Rachel Snyder) with Ajax (Kendall Maxwell), Ulysses (Kevin Bell), Diomedes (Nick Asher), and fights-only-when-he-wants-to Achillies (Brant Hughes) – seek a way to break the stalemate so they can sack the city and go home. A challenge for single combat between champions is offered, and the Trojans – led by Priam (Karen Webster-Cones) with sons Hector (Robert Beltz), Paris (Natalie Marchal) and Troilus (Matthew Walls), and military leader Aeneas (Aaron Henze) – take the bait.

There is also romance: As her father has gone over to the Greeks, Cressida (Amalia Howard) is cared for by her uncle, Pandarus (Paul Hansen), who cleverly arranges her courtship with Prince Troilus. Love blooms – until a prisoner swap nips that in the bud.

There is also comedy: Agamemnon’s Fool, Thersites (Anthony Nathan at his goofy best) takes up no sword but employs his rapier wit, and juggling, to survive and mock the senseless goings-on.

There is definitely tragedy, such as the lengths Achillies’ servant and lover Patroclus (Will Harris) will go to for his master.

And never forget the women, as Cassandra, Cressida, Hector’s wife Andromache (Jennifer Kaufmann), and Helen (Carolyn Rae Lynch) for whom the Greek ships arrived, lament their position – even in nobility – of being little more than property.

Lane Snyder is unforgettable as Agamemnon’s daughter Iphigenia, especially in the role she takes on in the second act (the Bard’s five acts are condensed to two).

As in the Shakespeare original, the play ends with little more than death and disillusionment. The legendary climax to the war – a kingdom for a horse, as ol’ Will would say – is only hinted at. For its moment, though, Eppich-Harris’s musical lets us dwell on the grinding endlessness of human conflict, and the innocents (and innocence) destroyed.

Four performances remain: Thursday through Sunday, July 20-23, at Shelton Auditorium on the southwest corner of Butler University, 1000 W. 42nd St., Indianapolis. For information, see southbanktheatre.org. Tickets are available through Butler’s site.