From Nashville's most intimate boards
Alice by Heart at the Barbershop
Street Theatre Company’s Alice by Heart, directed by Leslie Marberry, opens this weekend at the Barbershop theater in West Nashville. I was lucky enough to view the final dress rehearsal on Thursday, and I am happy to report, again, that Street Theatre is setting the bar for intimate, low-cost, high passion, theatrical performances in Nashville with this powerful coming of age narrative that engages with the fleeting nature of love, the experience of loss, and the resulting grief and resilience.
With Music by Duncan Sheik and lyrics by Steven Sater, the musical opens in a World War II bomb shelter under London where we meet Alice Spencer and her best friend Alfred who is dying of tuberculosis. Strikingly, the entire cast is already on the stage—across the evening 29 characters will be played by 10 actors (some by design, others, it seems, by happenstance). At first one might wonder if this doubling would be daunting or confusing, but the parallels it creates are very interesting. For example, the bomb shelter nurse who diagnoses Alfred also plays the Queen of Hearts in Alice’s delusional world (this is the Wonderland they visit). This relates the arbitrary nature of life and death in the bomb shelter to the blind fury of the Queen who gives a death sentence at the slightest offense. It is no wonder that the (pre)teen Alice would see these characters as one in the same. In this, the stern Savannah Stein was fantastic, whether as the pragmatically determined Nurse or the franticly insane regent, her versatility was incredible, and the facial expressions were obnoxiously bold—I can still see the insanity in her eyes as she belted “OFFFFFFFF WITH HER HEADDDD!”
The sweet, caring, and long to anger Alice was played very well, and with wonderful subtleness, by Sachiko Nicholson. Her innocence in appearance and stage presence, well complemented in expression and singing voice, belied an onstage charisma that pointed, appropriately, to someone more sophisticated than Lewis Carroll’s irksome seven-year-old child. This Alice is different, she has experienced war; she is older, smarter and more disciplined—even in Wonderland. She carried the show, and it is a good thing that she did because I don’t believe the script ever permitted her to leave the stage.
The ailing and sensitive Alfred, who is also always in a hurry, was played by a charming Simon Elliott who employed his piercing blue eyes and tall but not imposing body language to create a great chemistry with everyone around him. Grayson Stanko’s catty nature came out well in the production, and the nuance of her smile (the raised upper lip that suggests a healthy dose of aggression in her levity) was just perfect, even as she provided Alice the ambiguous advice that she didn’t need. Speaking of smiles, Ben Friesen’s smile was downright infectious pairing with an excellent sense for physical comedy in the expression of his mercurial hatter’s madness.
Parker Jenkin’s symbolist poetry, on the other hand, was more of a secco comedy—dry, sparse yet still physical, and his singing voice was outstanding—might there be an Ian Gillan’s “Gethsemane” lingering in there somewhere? Marco Tomás’s Duchess’ was as funny as she was ugly (the Duchess was ugly not Tomás) while Xavier Wilson’s onstage presence was excellent.
One remarkable aspect of this adaptation of Carroll’s story is the Caterpillar. For Carroll this hookah-smoking insect informs Alice on how to grow large and shrink small. Our Alice Spencer seems to be somewhat older, and Xavier May and Shelby Talbert’s Caterpillars are seductively fantastic, pointing not to Alice’s changing height, but instead to her developing the curves of a woman’s body. Their scene is a hilarious burlesque.
This brings us to the choreography, which, like so much else, was just outstanding. Joi Ware’s caterpillar and turtle are imaginative, but her dance numbers, featuring so many characters in such a small space, came off in eloquence and charm. Leslie Marberry’s blocking was similarly efficient in that there was never a moment when I thought I couldn’t see something that I wanted to—the stage was used incredibly well. Bonny Green’s costumes were well thought out, whether it be Alice’s traditional blue dress or the Queen’s crown, and Garner Harsh’s set was functional, yet believable. It was amazing what they achieved in such a small space.
All of this is to say that the overall challenge of the play (and one of the primary factors of the success of this production) is in creating a balance between the dreary world of the bomb shelter and a cheery Wonderland in Alice’s delusion. In this, whether just through the smiles of the characters, Kristin DuBois’ subtle lighting design, Jacob Allen’s fiery sound design, the costumes or scenery, the balance was achieved in a way that gave us both worlds. The best example comes in the first few moments, when Alice finally convinces Alfred to leave the bunker and join her in Wonderland, the dissipation of anxiety was palpable and yet difficult to connect to any one aspect of the production. Everything worked together, so I expect the primary complement should be given to Director Marberry.
One drawback of the evening, which is probably a weakness in Sater and Jessie Nelson’s book, has to do with pacing. At some moments, particularly in Wonderland, the vocal numbers seemed forced—the shift from dramatic action to soliloquy was less fluent than it could be, and the action felt interrupted by the number, not enriched. This was, however, a very small thing in an otherwise outstanding production.
A final point. In Nashville, we have a giant list of world class artists competing for your dollars performing in the most beautiful venues—including the glitz of Nashvegas, Broadway shows at TPAC (or the new multimillion dollar complex that will replace it across the river) or the fancy, long heralded, New York Theatre companies appearing at the cigar tycoon’s art project, or even Belmont’s Fisher Center, “another crown jewel” for Music City. The Street Theater Company, a resident of the Barbershop Theater (itself a cinder block box in a construction zone), is an underdog, but with the grit and determination of a Tennessee Tick Hound. They have fire in their eyes, hunger in their bellies and art in their hearts. Take my advice: do something meaningful in Nashville and go see Alice by Heart next weekend (this weekend is already sold out).
https://www.streettheatrecompany.org/
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Joseph E. Morgan is a father of two, husband, teacher and recovering guitarist in Middle Tennessee.
Spot on , Joseph.