“Melancholy Play”

Posted by Gail M. Burns - November 2010

“If grief is all I can have of you
Let me have grief.”

- Trish Crapo*

Once upon a time there was a land where strong feelings were forbidden, and there lived a beautiful Princess who was very, very sad. And all the people of the realm, who had no sadness to call their own, lived on her emotions. They sighed with her, cried with her, consoled her, and loved her for her sadness. To thank her for her gift to them, they threw her a wonderful birthday party, and when she came to the party and saw how all the people loved her, her sadness lifted and she was at last happy.

Robbed of their cathartic embodiment of melancholy, the people withered. They became so small and sad inside that one by one they turned into almonds. This made the Princess sad again, and she cried as she pondered how to save her people. Then she realized that it had been their communal love that had saved her, and so she rallied everyone around to drink her tears and share in a communion of sadness which released them all to feel their own emotions and live together happily ever after.

That’s the plot of Sarah Ruhl**’s Melancholy Play (2001), except that its not a fairy tale. I told it like one, and Ruhl (1974 – ) tells it like one, and director Kristen van Ginhoven tell it like one, but it is not written like one. Telling and writing are two very different things, you know. Ruhl is telling a fairy tale, but she is writing about average contemporary young people, not princesses and their loyal subjects in imaginary lands and times.

That van Ginhoven and her superb cast recognize the mythic quality to Ruhl’s work is essential. It needs that lightness and childish ingenuousness.

We first meet the melancholy Tilly (Betsy Holt), a bank teller, in relation to her therapist, Lorenzo (Per Janson), whose mother abandoned him as an infant at a sweet shop in an unspecified European country. He therefore speaks with an unspecified European accent and, in spite of his claims to lacking in strong emotions, possesses a fairly specific style of excitability and passion generally attributed to the Italians. Needless to say, he also possesses a passion for Tilly and her melancholy.

Frank (Todd Quick) the Tailor is the next to fall under her spell, while hemming her trousers, and then her hairdresser Frances (Karen Lee) succumbs. Frances invites her home to meet her lover and life partner, Joan (Leigh Sreimbeck), a nurse. Both women are instantly smitten, which puts a bit of a strain on their relationship. But Tilly selects Frank as her lover, and their relationship starts her upward spiral into happiness. He sees this and it prevents him from joining the others at her birthday party, where her happiness is made complete during a game of Duck, Duck, Goose.

In the second act Tilly just gets happier and happier, to her friends’ increasing distress. When one of them does truly appear to turn into an almond (why not?) after drinking from a vial of Tilly’s tears the characters find their strength in community.

I was rather disappointed when, at the penultimate moment, Ruhl actually delivered a moral. Fables have morals, fairy tales are left nebulous but weighty. You know that they bear important truths, but they present them obliquely and allow you to discover them for yourself.

As Tilly, Holt generates a glorious blonde radiance. It says in her program bio that this a role that she a has long wanted to play. Actors don’t always have the best instincts about the roles for which they are best suited, but in this case Holt was dead on, and van Ginhoven was right to cast her. She is luminous and it is easy to see why all the other characters fall in love with her.

Janson, who is bright-eyed and narrow, is delightful as the very unspecifically European Lorenzo, and Quick, who is dark, solid, and romantic, is obviously Tilly’s match as Frank. Lee has a sensual beauty, while Strimbeck is her older and colder, but no less passionate, mate.

While this is not a musical, there is a score for solo cello – if there is a solo instrument more melancholy than the cello I don’t know what it is – written by Michael Roth and performed by the ethereal Erika Helen Smith, who also served as musical director. And there are moments when the cast sings. This is all very naturally integrated into the action and Smith eventually joins in as the seventh character, her cello having been the sixth.

There are no performances to hate in this production. Everyone is beautiful and lovable in their own way, which is wonderful and as it should be. I really loved both this play and this production. I know I say it often, because it’s true, but I see a LOT of theatre, and when I see something especially wonderful – or awful – I recognize it. Melancholy Play will not be everyone’s cup of tea, but for me it is one of the outstanding theatre experiences of my life, and will definitely rank high on my top ten of 2010.

WAM (Women’s Arts Movement) Theatre, founded by van Ginhoven and Strimbeck, donates a portion of the proceeds from each production to an organization that benefits women and girls, in this case the Women’s Fund of Western Massachusetts, which means that they do not spend unnecessary money on the production itself. And yet this is a physical production of the very highest standards. The New Stage Performing Arts Center is modest, and so is Juliana Haubrich’s set, but it is sturdy and serves van Ginhoven’s direction, Yvette “Jamuna” Sirker’s choreography and David Bunce’s fight choreography very well. I don’t think there is a corner of the space in which something doesn’t happen at some point in the play, and that requires expert and clearly focused lighting from Nick Webb.

I have to say that when I first entered the space, where I had never been before, my first thought was “Damn! There’s a pole in the middle of stage!” And there is. It holds up the roof and there’s not much that can be done about it. But van Ginhoven et al. neatly solved the problem by making this a play with a pole in it. What was apparently an obstruction became in integral part of the action. Now I think every production of Melancholy Play should have a pole in the middle of it!

But I was surprised and disappointed by the New Stage Performing Arts Center, which is a corner room above the Beacon Cinema and in no way suited to be a theatre. From the aforementioned pole to the encircling windows that must be blacked out and still emit distracting light and sound (again, van Ginhoven has incorporated these perfectly into her production), to the poor signage outside the building that resulted in me getting locked in a stairwell mere minutes before the curtain went up, this is a space that may only temporarily see theatrical use. With more than a half dozen deconsecrated Roman Catholic churches in the city of Pittsfield surely one has a performance space better than this??

The true technical star of the show is Yvonne Perry’s costumes, which are simple, gorgeous, and perfect. I loved how she and assistant Elivia Bovenzi used both color and the innate movement of the various fabrics to enhance character and emotion. No one is credited with hair and make-up, but the ladies’ hair definitely added to the palate of texture, color, and movement initiated by the costume design.

Melancholy Play is a fairy tale for 21st century Amreica – a land where emotion is codified as “disease” and medicated away. Lorenzo offers both Tilly and Frank various “happy pills,” and it is Frank who very appropriately points out to him that pills may help alleviate unexplained sadness, but it is normal to be sad when your heart is broken and therefore he does not need pills.

Ruhl posits that sorrow is alleviated and happiness is found in community, and that that community includes men and women, gay and straight, accepting and loving one another and letting go of insignificant details like whether or not they are almonds. I mean really, when you’re in love, does someone’s race, religion, or taxonomy matter? If you love an almond, or are an almond in love, that is who and what you are.

Just how is the transformation from human to almond achieved? I will not give away the secret, but I will say that, like everything else in this production, it is surprising and elegant and delightful.

If you love theatre – and if you read GailSez I would bet that you do – you will NOT want to miss this show!

The WAM Theatre production of Melancholy Play is performed at 8 p.m. on November 12 & 19, at 3 & 8 p.m. on November 13 & 20, and at 3 p.m. on November 14 & 21 at the New Stage Performing Arts Center above the Beacon Cinema, 55 North Street, Pittsfield, MA. A free post-show discussion with the actors and creative team will follow the Saturday matinees. The show runs two hours with one intermission and is suitable for ages 12 and up. Tickets are $25 for the general public and $12 for students and a portion of the proceeds will be donated to the Women’s Fund of Western Massachusetts. To book tickets, go to www.wamtheatre.com or call 1-800-838-3006

* Thanks to poet Trish Crapo of Slate Roof Press for permission to use these opening lines from her poem Epilogue.

** To learn more about playwright Sarah Ruhl, I encourage you to access these resources:

Surreal Life: The Plays of Sarah Ruhl
by John Lahr in The New Yorker, 2008

Paula Vogel on Sarah Ruhl

Audio Interview with Sarah Ruhl (1 hr. run time)

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