Ghosts of the past reveal the sins of the Father in the haunting, sharply funny, compelling Omission

Andrea Irwin, Thomas O’Neill, Evan Walsh & Gillian Reed. Costume design by Margaret Spence. Set design by Teodoro Dragonieri. Lighting design by Wes Babcock. Photo by Bruce Peters.

 

Peter denied Jesus three times and yet became the Rock upon which the Catholic Church was built—its first Pope. Cardinal Matias Iglesias denies knowing three people from his past and he is a favourite to become the next Pope.

Alumnae Theatre Company explores sins of commission and omission in a time of civil and social conflict in Alice Abracen’s Omission, directed by Anne Harper.

It’s the eve of a papal conclave, and Canadian journalist Megan Gutierrez (Gillian Reed) visits the office of Latin American Cardinal Matias Iglesias (Thomas O’Neill), to interview him as part of a piece about the top candidates for the papacy. The jocular tone of their meeting turns adversarial when she asks him about three people: Angelo Flores, Laura Ballan-Kohn and Gabriel Mejia. While initially denying knowledge of any of them, when faced with accusations of complicity in the actions of a military junta, the Cardinal convinces Megan to stay and hear his side of the story. The ghosts from his past—General Angelo Flores (Lawrence Aronovitch), Professor Laura Ballan-Kohn (Andrea Irwin)  and Father Gabriel Mejia (Evan Walsh)—all materialize as he relates the events and relationships.

Keeping his head down and careful to not antagonize the ruling regime, Iglesias—a Bishop when these events began—is determined to protect his people from harm no matter what the cost. But civil conflict arrives on his doorstep when Ballan-Kohn, a long-time friend and confidante, begins to speak out against the witch hunt on certain political and philosophical books, and the students and teachers who own them are rounded up never to be seen again. And Mejia, who considers Iglesias a mentor, disobeys orders to avoid certain areas, where he’s been secretly administering to the hungry and dying—criminals and terrorists in the eyes of the regime. Afraid that his friends’ resistance is putting them in grave danger, Iglesias is unable to mollify Flores, a friend from childhood who now enforces the party line, describing the missing and murdered as having “left the country”—viewing all resistors as terrorists, and their absence a political boon.

Strong, committed performances from the entire cast in this story of confession, revelation and absolution. O’Neill, a former Archdiocese of Toronto altar boy, is an impressive presence as the ambitious Cardinal. As charming and affable as he is diplomatic and cunning, Iglesias knows how to play the political game—but when the game gets too close to home, will he still have the stomach to play it? Reed brings a great sense of mission and conflict to Megan; sharp-witted and relentless in her determination to discover the truth, Megan is also nervous, vulnerable and harbouring a secret of her own.

omission 2
Foreground: Andrea Irwin & Thomas O’Neill. Background: Gillian Reed, Lawrence Aronovitch & Evan Walsh. Costume design by Margaret Spence. Set design by Teodoro Dragonieri. Lighting design by Wes Babcock. Photo by Bruce Peters.

Walsh gives young Father Gabriel a lovely aura of awkward, youthful drive. Naiveté and idealism mature with Gabriel’s earnest passion to do what is right, no matter how dangerous to his own well-being. Irwin is an unstoppable force as the mercurial, rambunctious and irreverent Professor Ballan-Kohn. Whip-smart, and possessing of a fiery spirit and courageous soul, Ballan-Kohn—whose parents are Holocaust survivors—knows what it means when good people do nothing. Aronovitch does a great job with the two lives of General Flores; doting new father, good-humoured friend and religiously observant, he is also a cool, detached military man who follows and gives deadly and life-altering orders without question. An extreme example, the General reminds us of the compartmentalized life that anyone can live.

Sin goes beyond the commission of bad deeds to include the omission of good deeds. But what about the role of environment and circumstance? For better or worse, we all do what we feel is right, and in our guts and power to do in the moment. At what point do confession and absolution constitute forgiveness? In the end, like Megan, we are left to our own judgement of these proceedings. And who among us is without sin.

With shouts to the design team for their work on creating this theatrical world, where souls from the past commune with those of the present to tell this story: Margaret Spence (costumes), Evelyn Clarke (props), Teodoro Dragonieri (set), Ali Berkok (sound) and Wes Babcock (lighting).

Ghosts of the past reveal the sins of the Father in the haunting, sharply funny, compelling Omission.

Omission continues on the Alumnae mainstage until February 3; advance tickets available online or at the door (cash only). Tickets are $25, with half-price tickets on Wednesdays and PWYC Sunday matinees.

 

Advertisements

Grotesquely beautiful and darkly comic tragedy – Alumnae’s Antigone is a work of art

In the semi-darkness, a masked, covered figure lies centre stage, surrounded by three ropes that hang from the ceiling. Sleeping or dead? The house lights go down and there’s movement from the front of house entrance as a procession of masked figures enters, each bearing a death mask mounted on a bamboo pike. Their voices rise in a wordless, melodic, wailing music that evokes the sounds of ancient mourning. A people torn apart by war. Living with unspeakable loss.

And so the stage is set for the Alumnae Theatre Company’s production of Antigone (Anouilh), directed by Janet Kish.

Amanda Cordner (Chorus) and the ensemble in Antigone
Amanda Cordner (Chorus) and the ensemble

Enter the Chorus (Amanda Cordner), our narrator and guide to this world. We are in a nowhere land of here, there, then and now – out of time and place, in a parallel universe where ancient Greece meets WWII Paris. And the lighting on the three ropes gives the space a three-ringed gallows appearance – and the Chorus, dressed in tails, is the Ringmaster.

In a country recovering from a civil war between Oedipus’s two sons, who once shared the throne but are now both dead at each other’s hand, Oedipus’s brother Creon (Scott Moore) is now king, a tyrant who has buried one nephew with honours and left the other’s corpse to rot in the sun and be devoured by animals. By royal decree, anyone who attempts to bury the corpse will be put to death. Creon’s niece Antigone (Kaya Bucholc) defies her uncle’s order and buries her brother, leaving Creon with a difficult choice: cover up her actions or put her to death. Antigone will do what’s right no matter what – and will do it over and over again. Creon’s response has devastating ripples – and it was all preventable.

Antigone (Kaya Bucholc) held by Guard (Eric Mrakovcic) as Guards (Renee Awotwi & Patrick Fowler) look on
Antigone (Kaya Bucholc) held by Guard (Eric Mrakovcic) as Guards (Renee Awotwi & Patrick Fowler) look on

Kish has an outstanding cast for this tragic tale of right versus might. Cordner is wryly comical and sharply, at times brutally, observant as the Chorus; Marlene Dietrich meets cabaret emcee in tails, black pants, black bra and a fascinator. A laser-focused and dispassionate host, she bridges our world with that of the play. Bucholc gives a moving and compelling performance as the doomed heroine. Rough and tumble, unapologetically conscientious, brave and defiant; she seeks no permission and asks no forgiveness – but struggles with her protective feelings for her sister Ismene (Carly Telford) and lover Haemon (Christopher Oszwald), in great pain over how the consequences of her actions will hurt them. Moore gives a nicely balanced performance as Creon, Antigone’s conflicted uncle tyrant/protector who leads with a cruel pragmatism and punitive, controlling hand. The debate scene between Antigone and Creon is particularly gripping; and Creon is ultimately stung by Antigone’s assertion that he is a prisoner king – not free by virtue of the choices he refuses to make, all in fear of losing control over his kingdom.

Haemon (Christopher Oszwald) pleads with Creon (Scott Moore)
Haemon (Christopher Oszwald) pleads with Creon (Scott Moore)

Really nice work from Oszwald as the passionate, playful and loyal Haemon; and Telford’s Ismene gives a sweet, wide-eyed quality to the favoured, entitled “good sister.” Martha Breen’s Eurydice, while largely a silent figure, is ever watchful as she knits with her blood red yarn – and her cry at the news of her son’s death would break the stones. Silent too is Christina Leonard’s page, a young boy who serves Creon well, but who registers the anxiety and oppression of a kingdom struggling to rise up from the ashes of war under an iron thumb.

Great comic relief from Sara Stahmer, as Antigone and Ismene’s doting, old-school and gently scolding Nurse. And from the Guards (Eric Mrakovcic, Renee Awotwi and Patrick Fowler), salt of the earth everymen who have no use for politics, and just want to keep their well-paying jobs so they can feed their families. Mrakovcic has a nice moment of empathy with Antigone as he guards her cell; and Awotwi is hilarious as she echoes Mrakovcic’s report of Antigone’s capture and arrest to Creon. Fowler does double duty as the Messenger, dressed as a WWII pilot, who gives a heartbreaking account of Antigone’s and Haemon’s deaths in the tomb meant for Antigone’s punishment and eventual grave.

This production of Antigone features powerful, evocative design, complemented by the play-themed art installation (in the lobby for the duration of the run, by set designer/scenographer Teodoro Dragonieri, assisted by scenic artist Sara Ahmadieh Rad); startling lighting design (Kelsey Laine Jacobson); and costume (Martina Christensen) and makeup (Eleanor MacVeigh) that aptly bring elements of time and place together to create this universe. The movement choreography (Jane Deluzio, in collaboration with the ensemble) and sound design/composition (Jeffrey Jones) are organic and visceral, hearkening back to the ancients while rooted in the present.

A grotesquely beautiful and darkly comic tragedy, Alumnae Theatre’s production of Antigone is a work of art. Get yourselves out there to see this.

Antigone runs on the Alumnae mainstage until Oct 3; click here for details and tickets. Some special performances to note: Social Media Night (Sat, Sept 19) – texting, tweeting and messaging in the last three rows; no flash photography, please. There will be a pre-matinée panel discussion (Sun, Sept 20 – noon to 1 p.m.), Women of Courage, with six “ordinary women who have exhibited extraordinary courage in our current day and age”: Rachel Lauren Clarke, Tasvinder Gill, Tessa Hill, Andrea Patreau, Lia Valente and Meagan Tuck Yaksich.

With production photos by Bruce Peters.

p.s. Almost forgot to mention some minor pre-show drama when the fire alarm went off around 10-15 minutes before show time; likely set off by the fog machine. Thanks to the Alumnae peeps who ushered us outdoors and to the firefighters who arrived to ensure that all was well.