Postcards from The Odyssey #6: Little Moralists

In our on-going series of postcards from the We Players’ production of the Odyssey on Angel Island, Caroline Parsons, who plays Calypso (among other roles), reflects on lessons learned from smaller audience members…

Caroline Parsons as Calypso captures an attractive mortal. Photo by Tracy Martin.

After recent performances of The Odyssey on Angel Island, I have been taken to task by a couple of outspoken little girls. This happens after a scene in which I portray the sea nymph Calypso, who had detained Odysseus for seven years in her loving grasp before Zeus compelled her to let him go. As the scene ends she professes her love for mortal men and her outrage at having lost Odysseus to his homeward journey. One day, as I tearfully bade the audience of delightful and attractive mortals farewell, an elementary aged girl with an indignant chin approached me, saying, “Why are you crying? Odysseus isn’t your husband.”

Caroline Parsons as Calypso entreats Telemachus (James Udom) to stay with her on Ogygia. Photo by Tracy Martin.

Watch out Mary Magdalene, the morality of little girls is coming to vilify you! I improvised, as I am wont to do in this interactive scene, “I know…but I loved him.” The fierce crusader in stretch pants and silver embroidered sweatshirt assessed the veracity of the statement shrewdly, and granted, “I believe you” with a curt nod of her head before walking away with her hands on her hips. Another informed girl tore off a bracelet one of my nymphs had given her, a gift representing an eternal promise to stay with Calypso on the island of Ogygia, and slinging it angrily to the sand she said, “This is a reciprocal situation!” meaning, well, I’m not entirely sure what. What was clear was her immense mistrust of the goddess Calypso and her attempt to wrap the audience in binding chains of love as she had done to Odysseus. These opinionated children are coming to the show having read The Odyssey, probably in the company of an intelligent adult partner, but they do not need help understanding the archetypal characters in Homer’s world: the war hero with the fault of hubris, the faithful wife, the beautiful temptress, the evil sorceress, the good son- we know them by heart already. The work of theater is to bring them to life in a way that challenges the audience’s expectations but leaves them saying, “I believe you”.

Libby Kelly as Penelope and James Udom as Telemachus in the final scene of The Odyssey on Angel Island. Photo by Mark Kitaoka.

WePlayers is a company built to shake expectations: Alcatraz is a stage? An audience can walk 3.5 miles during a show? This Odyssey doesn’t end with Odysseus’s home coming? Nowhere is this expectation breaking more apparent than in the ending of this production. In the last scene we find Penelope, Odysseus’s faithful wife who has awaited his return from the Trojan War without remarrying for 20 uncertain years, crying because Odysseus has finally returned home: only to slaughter the men who have besieged her household, the serving girls in tow, and then leave again immediately. In Homer’s poem he comes home to stay and there is a happily ever after ending. In this production, why he has departed so quickly is interpreted variously by the different characters. The old school nurse Eurycleia believes he has gone to absolve himself of the bloodshed with prayer, the politically minded Mentor believes he has left Ithaka to avoid attack by the island families whose sons he has just slaughtered, and it is Penelope who has the wisdom to see that whatever the reason for his departure, he is a changed man after the war and she can no longer spend her life in waiting for the man she once admired. He is gone forever. A brilliantly emotive Libby Kelly portrays Penelope’s descent into despair. A little girl stands nearby and queries, “Why is the princess crying?” I do not know how her adult answered her, perhaps with a lengthy discourse on how war can change a person, on how twenty years away from your spouse is not automatically bridged, something about betrayal, or most likely, “Because she’s sad.” In either case the adult is being asked to describe a complexity of emotion that is often absent in the stories our children see on screen or read before going to bed. In contemplating the significance of my work with WePlayers, I am reminded of a genre of story called temblon, described by the writer/researcher Clarissa Pinkola Estes in her book Women Who Run With the Wolves: “[The temblon] overtly entertain, but are meant to cause listeners to experience a shiver of awareness that leads to thoughtfulness, contemplation, and action.”

Claire Slattery, Frieda de Lackner and Joan Howard surround Caroline Parsons as they prepare her for the ritual eating of the Lotos. Photo by Tracy Martin.

After performing a trance in the Lotus Eaters scene I am left dangling limply on a long rope in a round depression at an old military site. From this seemingly lifeless state I have the pleasure of overhearing audience members’ reactions as they depart. The voice of a little boy follows an eager run to the edge of my cavern, “Pit of Shaaaaame!” he denounces gleefully. On another day I hear an adult say to a young girl who wants to know why I am down there, “Because she is a bad girl a very very bad bad girl.” The subtleties of the scene have been missed, surely, since the Lotus Eaters’ ritual is a communal one in which the drinking of the Lotus juice induces a clairvoyant and exhaustive trance, the culmination of a meditative group oracle ceremony. However, the use of our play as a version of the traditional warning folktale is no less important than an interpretation more closely aligned with our intentions. I imagine that next time that curious girl doesn’t clean her room or do her homework her adult counterpart can remind her of what happened to the “bad bad girl” in that Odyssey play. The child, who was so concerned about my well being, may have a strong reaction to that! I say, let’s come into the theater like children: full of righteous ideas, full of passion, and ready to be swayed and taught by what we see. I say, let’s care that much.

The cast and audience of The Odyssey on Angel Island dance in Aolia, the land of the wind. Photo by Mark Kitaoka

–Caroline Parsons

Caroline Parsons is a freelance theatre, dance and yoga instructor and teaching artist. She last performed with We Players in their Hamlet on Alcatraz.

Postcards From The Odyssey #3: Our Partner The Audience

This week’s post is by cast member Julie Douglas, who examines the unique role of the audience in We Players’ production of The Odyssey on Angel Island.

Telemachus (James Udom) journeys with his companions, the audience. Photo by Tracy Martin.

Audience is intrinsic and necessary to theatre. Theatre in its true form is about the direct relationship and dialogue between the story, the storytellers, and the audience.  Mainstream western storytelling has the audience sitting in the dark while the players, set apart upon a stage, spin the story both visually and verbally. Site-specific, experiential theatre changes that dynamic and understanding for both player and audience. The story is both imaginary and tangible, it is all around us and we are all active players in it. In “The Odyssey on Angel Island” not only are we asking the audience to emotionally and energetically follow the story, we are asking them to literally follow our hero and physically go on their own Odyssey in a living location. They are asked to take action, respond directly, and have interactions with the players and story. They are a part of the story, and their engagement helps drive it forward.

Julie Douglas — your fearless reporter — as Circe, engaging an audience member with her wily and “intensely seductive” ways. Photo by Tracy Martin.

In theatre there is always a conversation with each unique audience. Their energy can be felt on stage. It fills the room. Now imagine it filling an island. In this kind of theatre there are spoken conversations and shared experiences between the players and audience, between audience members and with the surroundings.  Shows that engage everyone in this way can change how audiences think of themselves and their influence. It can also help us as performers truly feel the necessity of the audience and inform our relationship to that audience in all forms of theatre. It is a high wire act that requires full commitment because you never know what might be thrown your way. You are looking your audience square in the face and know if they are or are not along for the ride.

Nick Trengove, Lizzie Nichols, Megan Trout, Charlie Gurke and Geof Libby — all We Players friends and collaborators — watch a scene during a dress rehearsal. Photo by Tracy Martin.

In “The Odyssey on Angel Island” there are many miles walked with the audience, many scenes that have improvisation, and nature is an ever changing partner as well. How the show manifests, in many ways is dependent on that unique audience’s personalities and choices. In rehearsing the Odyssey we did our best to stand in for each other’s scenes as audience, to fill in those gaps of experience for both the audience and ourselves that would make up a large chunk of our show. We also made use of happenstance audiences that thought they were just coming to a state park for a picnic.  A family laughed as they got called out as rabblerousing suitors. A man on the beach bonded with Hermes by yelling out his approval. A group of boy scouts were drawn to our happenings, unexpectedly finding themselves a part of a scene. These joys and challenges of performing in a public space began in rehearsal, but something we couldn’t simulate was engaging with and moving an audience of over a hundred people to a point that they want to actively join in the story and enjoy it.

An audience member dances with Penelope (Libby Kelly). Photo by Tracy Martin.

Our opening weekend started with an invited dress, then preview, followed by Saturday and Sunday shows. Our audience doubled each day, which was a great way to learn what these new partners might do as they grow in number. Of course each audience is and will be different and not just in size. This audience talks back, they want to participate in different ways and to different degrees, they challenge your engagement as a performer with unexpected questions and actions.  Making connections with these individuals as well as the group at large is key so that we fulfill our objectives not just with our fellow actors, but also with the audience that doesn’t know the script.  The skills needed to play directly with the audience will grow and change with each show. This is the truly exciting part that keeps the story alive now that the final partner is cast, the audience, and the reason why we do this, the ones with whom we share our gift of communal creation and wonder.

The audience joins in a folk dance on the island of Aolia (Camp Reynolds, Angel Island). Photo by Tracy Martin.

Julie Douglas can be seen running around Angel Island in “The Odyssey” as Athena, Circe, and other ensemble roles. She is a Bay Area actor, theatre-maker, clown, teacher, director and mask maker. Most recently she directed a youth version of…yep, you guessed it…”The Odyssey” and performed with Shotgun Players in “Road to Hades”. JulieDouglas.weebly.com

The Odyssey on Angel Island runs weekends through July 1. For reservations and more information, please visit www.weplayers.org. You can also “like” We Players on Facebook and follow us on Twitter @weplayers for more behind-the-scenes tidbits and the latest news.

Postcard from The Odyssey – Post #1, Rehearsing the Odyssey on Angel Island

Rebecca Longworth takes us on a voyage with the cast and crew of We Players’ Odyssey. Keep your eye on our blog for more updates from this unique production. Want to plug another group, artist or project from the Bay Area’s diverse small theater scene? Write us and let us know!

Hello world!

Welcome to Postcards from The Odyssey. This is the first in a biweekly series taking you behind the scenes of We Players’ current production, The Odyssey on Angel Island, playing May 12 – July 1 at Angel Island State Park.

It seems as though whenever I talk about this show, someone asks if there’s an ampitheatre on the island. Nope – this Odyssey uses the entire island as a stage: we actors get plenty of exercise running amongst the spectacular natural environs, historic buildings, and decommissioned military installations of Angel Island. The audience will follow us hither and yon, on foot or bike – or, for those that need it, there’s a special vehicle on selected days. They’ll also interact with the performers in many scenes, so some of our rehearsals seem to consist of chatting with imaginary friends while we eagerly await the addition of audience members!

As you can imagine, staging a play on a 742-acre island is an enormous undertaking. Members of our production team take trips to the island throughout the week, and our site manager, Dave, actually lives there full time. Each weekend the performers (12 actors and 7 to 10 musicians) join the production team and volunteers on the island for two days of rehearsals. We arrive Saturday morning, rehearse during the day, and spend Saturday night so that we can rehearse Sunday starting in the morning. We take ferries from San Francisco or Tiburon to get to the island, and sleep in bunk beds in a dorm or outside in tents. It’s kind of like summer stock meets summer camp, with spectacular views of San Francisco and geeky mythology references. Luckily, we all like each other a whole lot. But life on the island could be a post in itself… (hint).

Right now, I’m excited to share with you some fabulous shots of a recent rehearsal, taken by our most excellent photographers, Mark Kitaoka and Tracy Martin. They’re some of the most fun and friendly people I can think of to spend a chilly Saturday with, and they take gorgeous photos! We have a production-photo-shoot this weekend, and I’m totally jealous that I’m not one of the lucky ones donning costume and looking artfully intense for the camera.

Here we’re rehearsing a scene in the old military hospital near the East Garrison. Julie Douglas, playing Circe, is talking to our director, Ava Roy, about a ritual her character will perform with Telemachus (James Udom, who’s in the tub). Note the fabulous golden bathtub!

Natty Justiniano looks to be deep in thought in one room of the hospital. Or he could be checking Facebook.

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Director Ava Roy and actor Caroline Parsons watch members of the ensemble rehearse on the hospital’s upper levels.

Maria Leigh, Libby Kelly and Caroline Parsons – playing sweet-voiced nymphs – rehearse with music director Charlie Gurke in the old Fort MacDowell military chapel. The military used the chapel to offer services of all varieties; we’re creating a shrine to Athena in it.

Actors visible through a window in the hospital.

Caroline as Calypso and James as Telemachus frolic on Quarry Beach while Ross Travis as Hermes determines how best to deliver a message from Zeus. It’s always a beach party with Calypso. And Hermes usually has bad news. Couldn’t you just look at that view forever?

More song rehearsals at Quarry Beach. Here you can barely make out Maria’s arm behind James, and three of Joan Howard’s limbs behind Charlie, who is playing his awesome and very portable melodica. Ava looks like she’s giggling at something; and there’s Claire Slattery and Caroline Parsons laughing as well. In this scene Caroline plays the nymph Calypso, with backup from other Oceanid nymphs, played by the other ladies.

Ticket sales for The Odyssey on Angel Island open TODAY at www.angelislandodyssey.eventbrite.com And please check out www.WePlayers.org, like us on Facebook, and follow @weplayers on Twitter.

–Rebecca Longworth

Rebecca Longworth plays Eurycleia, Hera, and Anticleia – among other roles – in The Odyssey on Angel Island. When not performing, directing, or producing, she creates motion graphics for Truc Designs, Inc. Rebecca recently directedBuried Child for Boxcar Theatre, and occasionally blogs about her goings-on at www.rebeccalongworth.wordpress.comor tweets (more frequently) @directorebeccer.