Any excuse to hang out in the American Swedish Institute’s Turnblad Mansion is welcome—especially at dusk, when the illuminated nooks and crannies feel especially cozy and mysterious. If feathers occasionally fall on you, all the better.
The overlapping musical elements—some performed live, some played on record or tape or other media—are eerily beautiful.
This dance/theater production—created by Sally Rousse and Noah Bremer—has an appealingly leisurely pace, with lots of room for wandering and contemplation during its 60 minutes.
The cast is multigenerational, and every member has compelling moments.
As the performers move you through the space, they alternate between performing for you and engaging with you—sometimes making eye contact, sometimes taking your arm or holding your hand. It’s memorably unsettling in a way that interactive theater too rarely is.
You’re asked to wear an adhesive mustache.
If you don’t know much about August Strindberg (anyone?), you may feel a little lost.
The climax is so gentle, you may not realize it’s come and gone.
The show is a triumph of style, less so of substance.
Did I mention the mustache?
god what is the deal with northern doctors like “okay do you wanna leave your underwear on you can leave them on let’s keep you decent” there’s a cyst on my ass and you’re a medical doctor you’re gonna have to bite the bullet and look at my ass
kentucky docs are like “drop trou bend over the table lemme see wow bless yer heart that looks like it hurts”