Ah, theater. (Patreon)

If it seems that things have been a bit quiet on the music front, that's because I have been busy on the boards. I just had the great good fortune to play Bessie in Westfield Theatre Group's production of "Marvin's Room," a dramatic comedy about caregiving, estrangement, mental illness, and how a fractured family bonds in the face of tremendous challenges. The play called up significant triggers for many of us and I think this is what bonded us as a cast -- the courage each actor showed in facing those triggers head-on in service of Scott McPherson's funny, moving story.

Our first meeting and table read.

     Our "Marvin's Room" was a triumph of the spirit marked by the beautifully human, conflicting, compassionate relationships we found. I'd wanted the part of Bessie because I felt called to explore (and maybe work through) the challenges of understanding an oppositional-defiant teenager, her nephew Hank. I also wanted the challenge of inhabiting her different relationships. Bessie in the doctor's office is not the same Bessie who tends her father Marvin or Aunt Ruth, nor is she the same who confronts her estranged sister, Lee or befriends nephews Hank and Charlie. I'll always feel that with more time I could've gone deeper, but the relationships felt real to me on stage and our exchanges were loaded with emotion and if standing ovations are an indication of anything, we did all right.

Opening night bows. I mean, really. Wouldn't you come see how the heck *these* characters relate? That bobcat is everything!

     Our production of "Marvin's Room" was beset by formidable challenges. Sometimes the theater was so cold during rehearsal that we could see our breath. Our quarters were cramped with no privacy. I wore three different wigs each night and still have abrasions under my ear lobes from the tight nylon caps. Personnel-wise, our youngest actor was hospitalized for a concussion the day before opening (the redhead pictured here above a stand-in). We lost the bobcat/nursing home director/psychiatrist to illness and brought in two different actors to cover her last three shows. And between Saturday's matinee and closing, one of our two stage managers suffered a sudden attack of gastroenteritis and went home, giving the cast 20 minutes to coordinate set moves and prop settings for our final show... which, amazingly, went off without a hitch. (Whew)

The two Charlies.

     After singing and traveling solo for so long and living alone now for almost 9 years, I'd almost forgotten what a joy it is to co-create, to lean on as well as support, to build something meaningful with others and then, all together, let it go. I'm aware that my interest in theater may seem like a left turn to some, but it satisfies my need to understand myself and other humans in community, serve someone else's story, and practice the delicate, essential art of letting go. At the end of "Marvin's Room" we grieved and celebrated, proud and deflated, and found ourselves striking the set in a hurried but heartbroken way, missing the play and one another amid all the bustle and exhilaration of closing night. We saw it plainly: we'd become that fractured family for a little while, bonded in the face of tremendous challenges. We'd found our way to love. The tears are real.