(Top Row: Jana Liles Passerby, Dani Bryant, Brian Bell, Morgan Christiansen, Kate Froechlich, Kathryn Daniels, Rebecca Zellar, Kelly Yacono, Taylor Mauch Center Row: Jill Thiel, Karen Gollrad, Lisa Wilson, Amanda Eaton, Jamie DesRocher, Annie Passinisi Bottom Row: Rebecca Mauldin)
Welcome our newest contributor to the dark world of Killer-articles, C.S.E. Cooney! As a huge theatre buff, writer, and performer, she was the perfect person to check out this latest Chicago play by The Greyzelda Theatre Group currently disturbing audiences.
Soon, the stage fills with visions from a fairytale that probably never made most shelves. Horse-heads and fanged pig-faces, blank angels, corpse girls and stately Green Ladies drift to the music of erratic breathing and a mournful violin.
The Dark Fairy “my fairy“ approaches a slumped bum and shrieks: "Are you dead? Are you DEAD?" Other creatures squat and cluck and click and sigh and tickle each other, creating an atmosphere both of threat and mischief.
SKRIKER, by Caryl Churchill, is a difficult script to wrest meaning from. For the first ten minutes, a monologue rambles like a nursery rhyme sung by an idiot. A dangerous idiot. As with Shakespeare, the ear needs this time to acclimate to Churchill's language, which is dense and poetic throughout but not quite as inexorably as those first ten minutes.
The Skriker, "a shape shifter and death portent," is played by Lisa Wilson. She opens the play in tattered long johns and a black cloak, moaning like a professional. Her cloak falls open, and we see she is breast-feeding a bundle of bones. This image, like her ensuing monologue, sets the tone for the rest of the play.
SKRIKER is not the horror of axes and arterial fountains. This is the horror of dark alleys, motherhood, madness and the danger of wishes. Good behavior is rewarded; bad behavior is punished. But whether you're vomiting gold coins for kissing an old hag, or vomiting dead toads for refusing to do so, the gifts of fairy burn on the way up.
The most intriguing part of this GreyZelda production is its ensemble. No matter if the scene being played is relatively normal in execution, the monsters are still looking on. There is always a girl in red shoes dancing in the shadows. Her expression is desperate: as if she knows she will only stop if both her feet are cut off.
Parts of the play do seem a bit hellish, in that you don't know when or if it will ever end. But for the most part I was captivated. There were some unexpectedly funny moments, as well as deeply creepy ones. Kathryn Daniels, playing the tough sister Josie, is grounded enough to bring Churchill's high-falutin' rants back down to earth. I particularly enjoyed Rebecca L. Mauldin's Dead Child.
I would recommend this show to adventurous and literary loonies. But remember: "Don't eat. Don't drink. Or you'll never get back!"
C.S.E. Cooney
Jill's p.s. This show runs until May 10th, for ticket and location details visit www.greyzelda.com"
Posted at www.killer-works.com" Caryl Churchill plays—always intensely verbal, Surrealist and heavy on choreography—can easily become trainwrecks, but GreyZelda’s production of one of her most difficult and strangest remains afloat, often inspiringly and always coherently—no small feat. The success of this "Skriker," a series of nightmarish scenes following a terrifying shapeshifter and her human victims, is due in large part to Lisa Wilson’s brilliant inhabiting of the title character. She remains magnetic and articulate, even as she spouts out verse after verse of Churchill’s sometimes almost incoherent monologues. The other actors keep up, and the show feels fresh in its exploration of gender, horror and dream, not least of all because of its strong interactive element; making audiences squirm in true Brechtian fashion, actors consistently break down the fourth wall in what could otherwise be an estranging production. The set and costumes are a bit uninspired, relying too heavily on tropes from Halloween costumes, but once the lines begin, it hardly matters."
And Now for Something Completely Different ....
THE SKRIKER "Caryl Churchill's 1994 play isn't easy going. It follows a "shapeshifter and death portent" bent on stealing the newborn child of teen mother Lily while avoiding the sometimes violent efforts of Lily's mentally-ill friend Josie to protect the baby. The creature says she's out to avenge the underworld, which has been left to wither and starve. But Churchill's multiply fractured narrative and Joycean wordplay communicate only a swirl of potentially provocative ideas that never realize their dramatic potential. Director Rebecca Zellar focuses most of her ensemble's energy on creating an underworld of childlike malevolence--part punk after-hours club, part dyspeptic kindergarten class. But even with a smart, committed cast, this GreyZelda Theatre Group production is comprehensible only in fits and starts." --Justin Hayford"You can hear their eerie cries as you climb the stairs at Angel Island's loft space, and if you linger in the lobby before taking your seats, you might see winged fairies fluttering at the windows. Inside the auditorium, you will find yourself confronted by a swarm of grotesque tricksters from Celtic/Saxon myth—ogres, brownies, kelpies, bogles, ghosts, ghoulies, long-legged beasties and other creatures you wouldn't want to meet in the dark. But that's before we're introduced to the queen of them all, the Skriker, who speaks in a curious echolalic-associative idiom ( calling someone a “toxic-waste-paper-basket case”, for example ) and who greets us by exhibiting the leftovers from her most recent meal of stolen infant. For most theater companies, a setting such as that invoked by English playwright Caryl Churchill's celebration of her national folklore would constitute an invitation to dazzle us with high-tech fantasy at the expense of the story. Not so this GreyZelda Theatre Group production, whose director, Rebecca Zellar, keeps the scale comfortably life-sized. Oh, Jeff Semmerling's masks, Tomas Medina's prestidigital instruction and Joseph Ravens' movement design for the athletic ensemble supply the requisite menace associated with apparitions stalking their human prey. But always at the center of the action are the two unwary mortals seduced by the shape-shifting Skriker, who assumes the guise of a street-beggar, orphan child or leather-jacketed butch as easily as she bewitches people into spitting money—or frogs. Immersion in this dramatic universe for almost two intermissionless hours could overwhelm an audience's suspension of disbelief, but for the copious assistance offered, not only by the ingenious spectacle employing an array of narrative arcs ( note the progress of the red-slippered dancer, or the humble janitor-boy, over the evening's duration ) , but the tightly focused performances of Kelly Yacono and Kathryn Daniels as ambivalent young mothers targeted by kidnappers from a literal Underworld. The tour de force in this ambitious project, however, is Lisa Wilson's portrayal of the top-ranked Weird Sister herself. In a role that could have come off like a Karen Finley-wannabe afflicted with the pip, Wilson remains the most charming and congenial of hostesses as she guides us on our tour of twilight realms too often ignored since the proliferation of intimate brightly lit playhouses put an end to shivery Things That Go Bump In The Night." | |
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British playwright Caryl Churchill pushes the limits of theatre in her epic theater plays, of which, her 1994, The Skriker, is a prime example. Churchill’s plays require loads of patience and strong heart. I find her work most exasperating and somewhat agonizing yet I feel compelled to see all her plays. The Skriker, directed with creativity by Rebecca Zellar, is too long, too dense and too vague—yet it intoxicates me.
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The show contains terrific work from the dozen fairies from the underworld and their leader, The Skriker (Lisa Wilson). She is a demonic shape-shifting fairy who covets a child. Josie (Kathryn Daniels) is in a psycho ward because she killed her baby. The Skriker, constantly changing forms, wants her sister Lily (Kelly Yacono) to give her baby to her once she gives birth. I think? Understanding a Churchill play is no easy task!
After a long stream-of-conscious monologue filled with gibberish and rhyming wordplay, the action erupts into many self contained scenes filled with eerie movements. The fairies crawl, saunter, dance and grope around the stage dressed in unique outfits with some wearing masks, some more animal than human. We hear this group comment through moans and groans to what The Skriker does. This marvelous ensemble works hard to give special characteristics to their beings with crafty body movements, scary, demon-like gestures and sounds.
Lisa Wilson, as The Skriker, propels the action as the evil demonic spirit leader bent on getting Lily’s new born. Kelly Yacono, as Lily, and Kathyn Daniels, as Josie, are effective as the sisters who cross the line into the underworld.
Kudos to Director Rebecca Zellar for the amazing stagecraft exhibited by her cast of fairies. Their costumes, movements and disciplined characterizations gave this show a lively and unpredictable element that was engaging. We never know what will happen next. The dozen fairies’ performances alone make this show worth seeing.
Churchill’s use of language pushes her works into a Brechtian style absurdist play. Many theatre patrons will find this play troubling while others will admire the creativity and craft of The Grey Zelda production. I usually end up finding Churchill’s plays irritating as I did this one but I’m glad I witnessed this provocative play. The production values are terrific.
Recommended
The mythic notion of babies being stolen by fairies is horrifying—and, indeed, morally deplorable—but on another level, it is also awesome. The extent to which you appreciate this may affect your enjoyment of Caryl Churchill's "Skriker," produced by GreyZelda Theatre.
Fairies, like angels, have suffered from centuries of Disney-style sanitization that has reduced them to being creatures of sweetness and cuteness, but in the words of modern mythmaker Neil Gaiman, "giggling, dangerous, bloody psychotic menace...is more like it". Rebecca Zellar's nightmarish staging, which makes good use of the intimate Angel Island space, is true to that vision and envelops the audience in it.
One of the truly great playwrights of the last half-century, Churchill has always expertly blended the mythical and the mundane; here, the titular Skriker (Lisa Wilson) is a living metaphor for death, madness and yearning. The play concerns the torments she inflicts upon two young women, Josie (Kathryn Daniels) and Lily (Kelly Yacono) and their infant children. Wilson plays the Skriker (when she is not taking on a variety of disguises) much like Linda Blair playing Robin Goodfellow by way of Gollum. The results are—unsettling.
This is a dense work, not so easy to comprehend at times, particularly due to the Skriker's bizarre but fun language patterns, in which the last word of a familiar phrase becomes the first of a new one (e.g. "gone with the window cleaner"). It is probably best read as well as seen, but seen it should be for its haunting, well realized atmosphere.
It's a satisfying meal for those who like their dark fantasy served extra dark.
When you’re a big talent like Caryl Churchill, the greatest danger lies in overplaying your hand—and that’s something she does here, especially in the eternity of this play’s opening moments, five minutes of expositional confusion. Of course, performance poetry has largely ruined the kind of Joycean wordplay she employs; it’s impossible not to hear that subgenre’s cadence of somewhat-clever, class-conscious expression in the titular faerie’s stream-of-consciousness inaugural monologue. But even on its own merits, Churchill’s typically challenging narrative doesn’t begin to take shape until about a half hour in, long after any audience members in their right minds would’ve stopped caring about what all the laughter-shrouded moaning might mean.
In broad outlines Churchill charts the tale of the Skriker (Wilson), a malevolent Celtic-style spirit menacing a couple of young women, perhaps in revenge for society’s vague environmental diss. There’s a genuinely creepy changeling motif on hand and some significant notes concerning the horror of fertility, but otherwise it’s all nonsense, a lot of movement and maskery in search of a purpose. Thankfully GreyZelda’s production is excellent, though Daniels as Josie should be crazier, and Wilson wastes some opportunities to humanize her inhuman role. That note notwithstanding, Wilson is still a small marvel in her embodiment of the shape-shifting villainess, delivering the goods in numerous incarnations.
The Beginning of the Underworld Scene - The Skriker (Lisa Wilson) and Underworld Creatures (Amanda Eaton, Dani Bryant, Rebecca Mauldin, Taylor Mauch, Kate Freuchlich, Annie Passinisi, Jill Thiel and Karen Gollrad)
"It's
It's is a contraction of "it is" or "it has."
It's time to go.
Do you think it's ready?
I read your article - it's very good.
Do you know where my purse is? It's on the table.
It's been a long time.
Its
Its is the possessive form of "it."
That's an interesting device - what is its purpose?
I saw Les Misérables during its initial run.
This stove has its own timer.
The bird lost some of its feathers.
Where is its head office?
The Bottom Line
The confusion between it's and its occurs because on virtually every other word 's indicates possession, so English speakers naturally want to use it's to mean "something belonging to it." But it's is only used when it's a contraction of it is or it has.
The ironclad rule - no exceptions - is that if you can replace the word with "it is" or "it has," use it's. Otherwise, it's always its."
Starting in the Month of June...The Mammals will be conducting a series of workshops to develop material for a performance based on the notions of dystopia.
We are looking for the following sort of individuals. Writers, Directors, Performance Artists, Self styled DIY innovators, Musicians, Puppeteers...
The goal is to get a group or approximately a dozen artists together to discuss and then create a series of short pieces on the theme of dystopia. Once we accumulated an evenings worth of material, the Mammals will then set out to produce the work as a full event.
Dates of the workshops will be determined once we have a roster of collaborators.
If you are interested in participating please contact Artistic Director Bob Fisher at devilvet@gmail.com
Also, please share this post with any artists you feel would have interest in the project!
Designed by Sarah Stec"Arthur Miller's play lends itself to a variety of interpretations: it can be viewed as drama verité, painting a picture of community life amid the Italian population of Red Hook, on the southwestern coast of Brooklyn. Or as a fable of dreams deferred, elders sacrificing so their young may flourish. One can find Freudian overtones in its exploration of blue-collar paternal affection subverted by incestuous impulses stemming from suppressed envy. ( Don't we, today, still see parents resentful of the privileges they shower upon their children? ) And how could the plight of “submarines”—illegal immigrants—seeking economic opportunities in America not resonate with audiences in 2008?
It should come as no surprise that this GreyZelda Theatre Group production does not fit easily into preconceived categories. Where some directors would instruct their actors to delve the possibility of sexual ambiguities in Eddie Carbone's possessive attitude toward his maturing niece and her effeminate ( by 1956 standards, remember ) suitor, Chris Riter never permits his subtext to wallow in sweaty speculation. Likewise, speeches that would, under other guidance, be delivered with operatic majesty are kept well within the vernacular idiom of their milieu.
Indeed, if this rendition of the familiar classroom classic has any prototype, it would be an early television play: the live-action scenes are almost wholly restricted to the Carbone family parlor, with only a suggestion of hall stairway and front stoop, all other exterior scenes being shown in video clips, courtesy of filmmaker Ed French. ( David Lykins' attorney Alfieri never addresses us except before the camera. ) Far from diminishing the story's impact, however, this multimedia approach further intensifies our acquaintance and, thus, our understanding of the social environment that turns fundamentally good men to violence and vengeance.
Opening on a frigid night only three days into the new year, the GreyZelda ensemble couldn't help but fall a bit short of its ambitious goals, emotions kindling too slowly before igniting. But Stage Left's intimate quarters permit the cinematic ambience of the prerecorded sequences to be carried over to the on-site performances—in particular, techniques associated with close-up shots that allow us to see thoughts cross characters' minds unspoken. Ironically, it is just this cozy brand of realism ( as contrasted with the glib repartee of extensively-drilled players confidant of their next words ) that invokes empathy without our being aware of its influence, so that when the inevitable strikes—and we, literally, see it coming—we experience the catharsis due all unnecessary destruction in an imperfect world."From Morgan Manasa, Babes with Blades Member and local
"Folks,
You must get over to Stage Left to see GreyZelda's production of A View from the Bridge.
This is one of my all time favorite plays and ... I had never seen it performed. It was lovely. Real, raw, charming and heartbreaking. Do yourselves a favor and see it before it's over! RUN. Don't walk."
From Tom Williams, chicagocritic.com:
"The acting was excellent with Aris Tompulis’ Eddie, Kelly Breheny’s Catherine and Tom Gordon’s Rodolpho particularly wonderful. The fine
From Lisa Wilson, GreyZelda company member and Chicago actor:
"The show is f@#*ing phenomenal.... I couldn't believe the tears I had in my eyes. I haven't cried in a theatrical piece as an audience member since I saw a studio workshop of
From William Scott,
"This young company is many exciting things. They are great actors and a tight ensemble in Miller's superbly crafted script .... Aris Tompulis’ Eddie is a big lug who you want to hug and punch alternately, but he is always human. Nicolle Van Dyke and Kelly Breheny, Beatrice and Catherine respectively, hold their own. They give hard, delicate and beautiful performances. See this play. Support this company. GreyZelda will be well served by continuing to take chances as long as they genuinely support the production."
From Dave Lykins, Alfieri in A View from the Bridge,
"The real treat is watching the live cast live this thing. It's probably the best cast I've ever worked with. Having a great cast means nothing without direction and Chris Riter has done a f#@*ing awesome job here. I'm really proud & lucky to be associated with these guys ... It's normal for an actor to pump up the show he's in but I am not really a self promoting type of guy. This is a great presentation of great play and it is only running until the 2nd of February. You'll be doing yourself a favor if caught this before it goes away."
I'll post more feedback as it come our way ... thank you to everyone who's seen the show so far!!!!
