The Dreams of Nebuchadnezzar is a gorgeous piece of serious choral music. On a dramatically lit stage, The Riel Gentlemen’s Choir, dressed simply in denim, sing and act out scenes from the Bible’s Book of Daniel. Show creator Jesse Krause and his brother, Thomas Krause, together form the new music ensemble Gerauschbiest. They sang solos beautifully. The vocal range and excellence of the choir and the soloists, sometimes chanting and shouting, at other times soaring melodically, brought about magical and deeply moving music. The Krauses also played a selection of intriguing wooden instruments, all hand-made. I asked about the processing and manipulation of the sound, and learned that the instruments were only amplified, not manipulated at all. 

The main text of the piece is drawn from Daniel chapters 2 and 4, in which King Nebuchadnezzar's eerie dreams of a huge statue and a tree to the sky appear. (I was very glad that I read the book to that point ahead of time, so I could follow the words and story clearly.) The king calls all his wise men, and insists that they prove their visionary powers by retelling his dreams to him and then interpreting them. None of them is able, but the Judean Daniel, (named Bel’shazzar by the king), living in exile in the king’s household, fulfills the task. The relationship between Daniel and the king, shown in simple gestures while the text is sung by the ensemble, is both tenderly intimate and, when Daniel has a terrifying future to report for the king, powerful and strange, with the king, as it says in the Bible, humbled before Daniel. Soloist Sara Clefstad appears dramatically to sing Daniel’s own apocalyptic vision, Chapter 7 of the Book of Daniel. In the Bible, emphasis is placed on God as the source of Daniel’s wisdom and the course of history. In this piece, God is not the focus, with our attention drawn instead to the emotional power and mystery of dreams and visions.

Along with the dramatic lighting and the rich singing, we see the choir manipulate some simple, mysterious props – large pieces of fabric and planks of wood, which at points symbolize the statue and the tree from Nebuchadnezzar’s dreams. The overall experience is powerful and beautiful.

The American Songbook

The American Songbook glows with love. Writer performer Melanie Gall sings a stream of songs, most of them, as she reminds us at the top of the show, about love. Gall’s love of lush singing and arrangements is vivid throughout. And in this show, for the first time, Gall also delves into a story of love from her own family. She tells about her grandfather, Toronto crooner, bass player and bandleader Jack Young. While performing the songs he loved, she also gives us the lasting love story of her grandparents, and gives a glimpse into their family life. Slides of old family photos bring the characters to life.

Along with her family story and personal experiences, Gall tells about a few of the songwriters (most of them Jewish) whose creations she sings, with slides to go along. She dives into the story of Bei Mir Bistu Shein.

Gall has a fine recorded piano accompaniment, which often brings an element of jazz to the show. There are hits by Irving Berlin, George and Ira Gershwin and many others. I love this repertoire – all the songs were familiar to me but one, Kiss the Boys Goodbye, a novelty number first sung by Mary Martin. With all the positive outlook throughout the show, the moments of contrast stand out beautifully. Stardust Memories is a touching song of lost love. A highlight is Brother, Can You Spare a Dime, which allows Gall to act as well as sing this moving piece of history.

Gall looks great, sounds great and especially looks so happy that she helps us feel happy too.

Everything is Super Wow

In Everything is Super Wow writer/clown Ira Cooper is compelling in sad times, and inspiring in happy, appreciative times. The “Super Wow” he exclaims often comes across as absolutely sincere, as Cooper delights in nature and in the sheer joy of the present moment that he invites us to share. We are also invited to sing, shout and generally play along with this engaging clown in his multi-textured performance.

We meet Cooper on the 999th day of a bike ride, with no destination planned. On that day, he is camping out in the wild.  The very simple set includes a tent and a tiny plastic plant representing the wilderness. (I thought the play was over when he climbed into the tent and said “Goodnight me.” Of course, that was actually the moment the giant mosquito appeared!) 

Ira and his bike, known as Mr. Coffeehead, have two arch-nemeses. One is his father, portrayed by Cooper as both an old-country Yid with a long beard and a thick accent, and a contemporary deli man, with a different accent, equally broad. The father’s desire is for Ira to take on the family business, to keep the tradition going. Ira just doesn’t want to, and that initiates the long bike trip.

His other challenger is Helmut the Helmet, a googly-eyed puppet who perhaps takes the task of protecting  Ira too seriously. He sees the bike trip as pointless, and wants Ira to settle down. Ira is supported in his openness to adventure by another puppet, his bike bag, called (I think) Panny the Panier. 

With outrageous accents, Cooper manipulates the puppets, and keeps the dialogue and the puns rolling. He offers lots of laughs and silliness, yet there is a moving melancholy in the show as well. I cared about this complex clown.

Muse: an experiment in storytelling and life drawing

and My Body of Work

I left Muse: an experiment in storytelling and life drawing feeling refreshed and energized.  The format was totally unfamiliar to me – not a show in any conventional sense. Cameryn Moore informally answered questions about her work as an artist’s model – a muse, about her career in performance art and theatre, and her experience as an American living in Berlin. The whole time, she modeled in the nude for the audience. We were invited to take paper and charcoal as we arrived, or to use our own sketching materials. Everyone in the circle of listeners sketched. Audience members of every level of experience, or none at all, were encouraged to draw. With a full hour to concentrate, I began to feel more comfortable with my own drawing.

Moore is huge – tall and broad-shouldered and fat, with folds and curves that are a delight to sketch, and her shape is simply one aspect of her self-image. Asked what makes her feel beautiful, she shrugged off the question. “I find joy in comfortable clothes and vibrant colours, but I don’t worry about being beautiful.” She is also delightful to sketch because she is so relaxed and self-assured. She seems totally comfortable while modelling, although she said she was nervous the first time she gave it a try. “As a former dancer, life drawing falls in that same spectrum of experience.” The audience asked a range of questions, and her answers were full of storytelling and frank observations. I loved being in her friendly presence.

The show culminated in the opportunity to stroll around the room seeing one another’s work, which ranged from simple to elaborate. Moore spoke about her goals in creating Muse. “I try to model vulnerability so that others can take risks that way.”  She feels that some fringe festivals are tame, and she wants to really push boundaries, to “kick against the sacred cow.” In general, she wants audiences to experience creativity in community spaces. Sitting in a circle, listening to Moore speak of her experiences and observations, I felt that sense of community.

For the one-woman play My Body of Work, everyone is invited to bring a diet book to destroy during the play. Holly Brinkman really wants you to do this!

She tells the personal story of her relationship with food, diet and body image. She is fun to be with, warm and engaging. There are lots of fascinating costume changes and props to support her work, and a great involvement with the audience, whom she addresses directly, like a confidante. 

The play includes many aspects of her life, beginning with the decisive moment as a preteen when she paused in the town store and, instead of buying candy, bought a diet coke. Woven into the storytelling is a lot of analysis of body issues. She recognizes now a desire for control, a feeling she had to please people to keep them in her life, and a need to distance herself from emotion. In a major passage in the play, she explores intergenerational trauma, tracing eating disorders in her case to her grandparents’ experience of starvation conditions in Nazi-occupied Holland. The expectations of her tiny, elegant, judgemental grandmother and her perpetually dieting mother also played a role in her difficulties.

A high-achiever, B began writing and performing in theatre along with her day job and graduate studies. The real breakthrough for her came when she started to learn burlesque, which she adores. She gives a witty, charming performance of what she calls “storytelling with the body.” This is a personal show that explores painful issues in a highly entertaining and warm way.

Eleanor’s Story: Life After War

Out of devastating memories and deep emotional experiences, writer/actor Ingrid Garner has created a beautiful piece of theatre.

In 2022, Garner brought to Winnipeg her one-woman show, Eleanor’s Story: An American Girl in Hitler’s Germany. This year she returns with the sequel. Eleanor was a child of German heritage in the United States, and her family moved to Germany for her father’s work in 1939, only to be trapped by war. She lived in Berlin until she was 16 years old. The war ended, but scarcity and troubles continued. Soviet-occupied Berlin was a terrifying place. Russian soldiers sometimes sought revenge, and their targets were often women.

The play takes place after Eleanor returns to the States.While trying to play along as a teenager in 1940s New York, Eleanor is frequently hit by sudden memories that disrupt her attempt to be seen as “normal.” Remembered scenes from Germany are set apart from the rest of the play with intense coloured lighting. Eleanor only occasionally tries to explain her experiences to uncomprehending Americans. She finds an outlet, eventually, in creative writing.

Garner plays several roles in the show. She makes her transitions from one character to another appear effortless – a quick switch of body position or gesture lets us know who the actor is portraying even before the character speaks. Her mother is a fascinating character, refined, imposing, with an iron will. 

Sweet friendships and tender family relationships temper a play which brings home the emotional challenges refugees and survivors of war experience.