Displaying items by tag: Writers Theatre

What would you do if you found out your heritage wasn’t what you thought it was? In Tom Stoppard’s case, he wrote a sweeping, epic play about it. Glencoe’s Writers Theatre brings Leopoldstadt to the Chicago area for the first time since its West End and Broadway runs in the early 2020s. Directed by Carey Perloff, a longtime friend and collaborator of Stoppard’s, this final stage play proves to be among his best.

Stoppard passed away late last year but he left a decades-long cannon of seminal stage and screenplays. When his semi-autobiographical play “Leopoldstadt” began performances in the West End in early 2020, he was sure it would be his last. Though he wrote it in a year, it took nearly 30 years to find the narrative. Stoppard, who was raised as a gentile most of his life, was told by a family member in 1993 he was of Jewish heritage and that many of his family members were murdered in the Holocaust. Stoppard escaped Czechoslovakia as a child and was raised in the UK entirely unaware.

A blended Jewish-Catholic family’s history in 20th century Vienna is divided neatly into four pivotal scenes with a sizeable cast of some of Chicago’s best. In the first scene, a Christmas party (1900), we’re shown a Vienna in which Jews were considered equals. Families had interfaith marriages and shared holiday celebrations. By the second scene (1924), WWI has redrawn the maps of Europe. Austria, as well as the family, finds itself in a precarious place. Scene three (1938) portrays an Austria fully committed to the Third Reich and family alliances are put to the test when the family is forced out of their home by the Nazis. The final scene (1955) happens in the aftermath of Austria’s reunification following WWII. This last scene mirrors Stoppard’s own life and serves as an emotional climax to a play that is often dense with political and historical theory.

The cast of Leopoldstadt. Photo by Michael Brosilow.

Writers Theatre’s production is as faithful to the original as you can get. Carey Perloff directed the Boston and D.C. premieres too. Along with an all-star cast of Chicago heavy hitters, Perloff’s production will likely be remembered as the definitive Midwestern revival. Between Ken MacDonald’s set and Alex Jeager’s costumes, audiences are sure to be swept away to a different time and place that can feel eerily reminiscent to the present.

As the eras change so do the actors playing the characters. Stoppard’s script trusts that the storytelling is so engaging that audiences will figure out who’s who by the context clues, and he was right. Some may find the story hard to follow but thankfully a helpful lobby installation catches everyone up on the history of Austria during this time period.

Writers Theatre favorite Kate Fry plays a Catholic woman, Gretl, who marries into a prominent Jewish family. Her performance is at first charming but by the end heartbreaking. Jessie Fischer delivers a transformative performance, particularly during the final scene. Rounding out the male ensemble is Ian Barford as Hermann who plays a converted catholic, but it’s his deterioration that is unforgettable. Justin Albinder is given the meatiest part of the final scene and his ability to switch from one emotion to the next is some of the most natural acting of the evening.

Leopoldstadt is every bit as epic as something like Gone with the Wind. Much like the famed novel and movie, this play tells the story of a civilization, a family, lost to the tragedy of war. It’s a story of a family’s near extinction. Stoppard’s brilliance is on full display and how lucky are we to have this capstone for his illustrious career?

Through August 16 at Writers Theatre. 325 Tudor Ct, Glencoe, IL.  847-242-6000

https://www.writerstheatre.org/events/leopoldstadt

This review is proudly shared with our friends at www.TheatreInChicago.com. 

A psychotherapist is held hostage by a gun-toting patient demanding he certify her as stable enough to return to work. That inherently conflictual demand is the core of Max Wolf Friedlich’s “Job” at Writers Theater.

It is an intriguing work. Directed by David Esbjomson it has a slow-burn of reveal in which details might easily turn into spoilers, so be forewarned. In the course of the session both patient and therapist reveal themselves in lengthy discourse, but intermittently scenes flash by that are revelations.

These momentary glimpses during “Job” are impeccable, powerful, rapid-fire, split seconds that are core to the evolving action. High praise is due for lighting design by James F. Ingalls with interwoven sound scapes by co-sound designers Willow James and Christopher Koz and one instantaneous horrifying mask change that feels like a gut punch. Costumes are by Jessica Pabst, and scenic design is by Jack Magaw. “Job” also represents a deft bit of dramaturgy (credit Erin Shea Brady) that this play has been brought to Chicago so soon after gaining considerable buzz in New York.

Opening in a series of flash scenes, at the outset no explanation or context is offered, just a young woman brandishing a gun at an older gentleman in sweater, tie and glasses. The exact scene is presented repeatedly in stroboscopic rapidity, and we are able to see it’s in an office setting, perhaps an academic and a student? A settee dominates the room.

As the play progresses, we are periodically treated again to such scenes repeating themselves. And we in the audience slowly divine that we are witnessing the varying perceptions through the eyes of the patient Jane (Rae Gray is remarkable). She has been sent by her employer to the office of Loyd (Christopher Donahue is excellent), a psychotherapist, for evaluation. The reason? She had a screaming desktop meltdown at work, and was placed on leave until Jane’s sanity can be affirmed by Loyd. That settee is a psychotherapist's couch.

For 85 minutes, the two joust back and forth. Jane has no belief in the efficacy of psychotherapy, and is an unwilling patient. Loyd specializes in tough cases. The playwright records Jane’s unintentional revelations of her deep-seated issues that led to the meltdown, which was shared on social media and went viral, damaging to her and to her employer’s reputation, to say the least.

Under force, Jane has taken the therapist hostage, and argues ardently against his entreaties and skillful non-directive therapeutic efforts to lead her to insights about herself.

"I hate talking about myself," says Jane. "It never seems to get me anywhere."

Despite her best intentions, Jane goes deeper and deeper into her worldview, and also the concrete job-related causes of her meltdown.

And though Loyd is held under force in this session, it is the attraction of their argument about therapy that keeps them there. and the playwright Friedlich provides an excellent recount of the circuitous techniques of an effective therapist that lead patients to self-understanding, and healing.

But not Jane. She is what they call in the psych game “highly defended.” She never experiences an “aha” moment under Lloyd’s guidance. And when one approach fails, Loyd pulls out of his bag other tools, including an extremely direct analysis of Jane delivered point blank to her face. This depiction of the psychotherapy process is a great accomplishment.

Jane is compelling in her intransigence, and offers strong and dismissive arguments against Loyd’s efforts and disses psychoanalysis overall.

"When everything is connected, nothing is," she says. 

During this back and forth we find ourselves moved to ally with the arguments of one side or the other. As the action rises to its climax, Jane nearly nails her therapist to his vulnerability. It is the tension between the two that is intended to make “Job” gripping, but it didn’t quite capture me in that way.

An important subtext lies in Jane’s work. She desperately needs to be at her desk to make her feel grounded and keep her world aligned. But the work is toxic - she flags and removes horrifying and illegal visual content from the web. The continuous encounter with such heinous content, which Jane describes at length, has certainly affected her mental health. But rather than return to it, as Jane desperately desires, maybe she should file a workers comp claim and call it a day.

One problem with the play is that it seems a bit too “literary,” in the story-telling sense of the word. As Jane relates anecdotal elements of her experience at work or her love life, the passages sometimes go on ad nauseum. Show, don’t tell is the maxim on stage. The effect is to deflate the tension between the characters, and I found my attention and interest flagging. I also felt that Jane’s sometimes lengthy discourses weren’t convincingly those of a woman, but maybe that’s just me. Some time is spent on the generational and cultural divides between boomers like Loyd and younger generations represented by Jane. This seemed to detract from the thrust of the drama. 

Still, “Job” is recommended for the great performances, and the excellent production. "Job" runs through June 14, 2026 at Writers Theatre in Glencoe, IL.

*Extended through July 3rd

This review is proudly shared with our friends at www.TheatreInChicago.com. 

Hershey Felder has made a significant part of his life’s work playing the roles of piano prodigies, and at Writers Theatre he takes on the role of Sergei Rachmaninoff (1873-1943), considered the last of the romantic Russian composers, and a virtuosic pianist. Felder, a very good actor (he received a Jefferson award in his role of Chopin last spring) and remarkable pianist, is perfect in the role, for which he has developed an extensively researched script. The Writers Theatre production, directed by Trevor Hay, is the Midwest premiere of the rolling national debut of “Rachmaninoff and the Tsar.”

Felder has mined this territory for decades, developing shows centered on musical luminaries including historic figures—Chopin, Liszt, Debussy, Mozart , Beethoven—as well as modern figures like Bernstein, Irving Berlin and Gershwin. (He has also produced film versions of some of these stagings.)

Ordinarily performing solo, for “Rachmaninoff and the Tsar,” Felder has for the first time incorporated into the script a second character—Tsar Nicholas II (Jonathan Silvestri), the last Romanoff to rule Russia, until the Bolshevik revolution forced him to abdicate in 1917. Rachmaninoff fled Russia for New York City. This allows for a more robust script, with two characters playing against each other, and sharing the burden of exposition, which can be a downside for story-telling plays. Many other characters are incorporated in silent films shown periodically as a backdrop to what’s on stage.

Jonathan Silvestri as Tsar Nicholas II and Hershey Felder (right) as Sergei Rachmaninoff

The disruption that the Russian Revolution brought to Rachmaninoff’s career meant there were lengthy gaps in his work as a composer. Rachmaninoff was a favorite of the royal family and celebrated across Russia for capturing timeless slavic themes. Felder livens up the story with a creative conceit, set in 1943 as Rachmaninoff lays dying in his Beverley Hills home. On a morphine drip, Rachmaninoff conjures up visions of conversing with Tsar Nicholas II, and the play covers wide terrain as the two converse, and recall their intersecting history.

Throughout, Rachmaninoff takes to the gleaming ebony Steinway concert grand piano, playing 15 works, mostly the musicians own works with one piece by Tchaikovsky, and one by Lvov. At times Felder’s Rachmaninoff plays live against recorded orchestral arrangements, most times he solos. One particularly notable piece was an arrangement Rachmaninoff did of “The Star Spangled Banner.” In open question and answer period at the show, Felder explained the arrangement had been taken from a paper piano scroll recorded by Rachmaninoff himself. It was quite lovely.

Felder also took the time to expound on the reason he added a second character for “Rachmaninoff and the Tsar.” It alleviated the burden of telling the back story and history all by himself. “It gets lonely on the stage,” Felder said. The addition of Tsar Nicholas II also allowed for a divergence into the story of Anastasia, the Tsar’s youngest daughter who for decades was theorized to have survived. Ultimately DNA science dispelled this as myth.

Silvestri as Tsar Nicholas II adopted a growling Russian accented delivery. We learn during the question and answer period that his daughter in real life plays Anastasia in those film reels shown during the performance.

The performances are great overall, and the show is entertaining and engaging, though there is little dramatic tension, and I found my interest lagging in the storyline. Still, “Hershey Felder’s Rachmaninoff and the Tsar” comes recommended, and runs through September 21 at Writers Theatre in Glencoe, IL.

*This review is also featured on https://www.theatreinchicago.com/! 

In its world premiere at Writers Theatre in Glencoe, “Dhaba on Devon Avenue” is a strong play, from a promising writer, Madhuri Shekar, winner in 2020 of the Lanford Wilson Playwriting Award. A TimeLine Theatre production, it is directed by Chay Yew.

Another of Shekar’s plays, “A Nice Indian Boy,” produced by Chicago’s Rasaka Theater Company in 2015, was adapted to a 2024 film released theatrically (now streaming) —a kind of “Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner” crossed with “My Big Fat Greek Wedding” set in India and with a gay white American boy as the surprise fiance.

“Dhaba on Devon Avenue” is in that vein, but a more serious drama: the widower Neeraj (Anish Jethmalani), patriarch of the struggling Dhaba Canteen, a South Asian restaurant on Chicago’s Devon Avenue, is coaching his sous chef daughter Rita (Tina Muñoz Pandya) on the eve of the restaurant’s 30th anniversary banquet. As Neeraj reveals his secrets of Sindhi cooking (Sind is a region of what is now Pakistan) we move into “The Bear” territory—a bit of demanding “Yes Chef” performance as Rita never seems to get the sauce up to Neeraj’s expectation—despite having made it for years.

We suspect Neeraj is tasting with his emotions rather than his palate, and indeed this proves to be the case. Neeraj is one of those old timers that thinks if we can just get things back to exactly where they were in the old days, the problems will go away. But that’s complicated by a diagnosis of Parkinson’s, with early symptoms just beginning to show.

Though she is frustrated by her father’s demands - Rita has been successfully making these dishes for years - she submits to Neeraj’s demands, starting dishes over multiple times to get the flavors just right. The pressure for this “Big Night” banquet is seasoned with urgent calls between Neeraj and his bank, with a deadline for satisfying his loan closing in. When Rita suggests forestalling foreclosure may be more important than perfecting the meal, Neeraj is dismissive. “We always have money problems,” but we can’t serve “substandard food,” in a cruel slight to his daughter Rita.

While the dramatic force plays between father Nareej and daughter Rita, it is the supporting roles that provide color and flair to “Dhaba on Devon Avenue.” Enter Neeraj’s daughter Sindhu (Arja Daire is terrific), an emancipated married professional living the upper middle class life in Seattle. She tries to connect with her dad, and could advise him well, if Neeraj would only give her the chance. He won’t.

Enter brother-in-law Adil (Muheen Jahan, in an excellent comedic performance), who is inspired to invest in Dhaba Canteen. Reluctant to admit his impending failure, Neeraj responds with a wall of “No,” even as the pressure builds. To add more fuel to the dramatic fire, Rita has struck up a romantic tryst with the line cook, Luc Fuentes (Ina Arcinegas in a solid performance), the one non-South Asian character.

All these components add a lot of baggage to the core of the drama - Neeraj’s resistance to the changes necessary for the business to survive. Or more broadly, a man facing the end of the road by doubling down on the past, and with little grace.

How all this gets resolved is nicely packaged in a 90-minute, no-intermission show. But I couldn’t help feeling that keeping the focus on the patriarch, making it more like Lear or Death of a Salesman, might have made for better drama.

The set (Lauren M. Nichols) with a fully equipped kitchen—commercial range, stainless work surfaces, under counter coolers, even tiled floors—was spot on, but props seemed scant for a truly working kitchen. Transition music between scenes was rather too loud. And in certain scenes—such as Rita rummaging around in a file box for a long lost recipe book—she finds it in seconds. It should have taken longer, perhaps, with more stuff in that box.

Definitely worth seeing, if only to get on the track to follow Madhuri Shekar’s next work, “Dhaba on Devon Avenue” runs through July 27, 2025 at Writers Theatre in Glencoe, IL.

*This review is also featured on https://www.theatreinchicago.com/! 

Brian Friel’s “Translations,” now playing at Writers Theatre in Glencoe, IL, shows off the renowned Irish playwright’s signature skill in creating a stage full of memorable characters, 10 in this case, each with depth sufficient to fuel their dramatic paths.

“Translations” as Friel tells us, “has to do with language and only language.” Though written and played almost entirely in English, the Irish speak with brogues to “represent” that they are actually speaking in Irish; the British speak in a more formal King’s English. On stage, under the accomplished direction of Braden Abraham and dialect coach Eva Breneman, it becomes clear that Irish is being spoken, and when the few English speakers appear, that the two groups do not understand each other.

Friel treats us to a compelling story line—a love triangle—against a backdrop of an overwhelming British culture, bulldozing its way across the neighboring emerald isle. Set in 1833 in the mythical town of Baile Beag (Anglicized as “Ballybeg”), the action takes place in a “hedge school,” a form of resistance to this British cultural hegemony.

Hedge schools were illegal underground tutoring centers where the Irish adults would go to study ancient Greek and Roman classics, translating them and discussing them in their native Irish tongue.

Indeed, the play is very much about translated language. At the hedge school, we hear Hugh (Kevin Gudahl), a teacher at the hedge school and student Jimmy Jack (Jonathan Weir) reading Homer and Virgil and discussing comparative renderings in Irish. The only English word Jimmy Jack has bothered to learn is “bosom.”

English military cartographers have arrived in Baile Beag to map out the area, and set about developing Anglicized versions of the Irish names for the notable geographic features, rivers, valleys, streams, hills, etc. One character, Owen (Casey Hoekstra) who was born in Baile Beag but left years ago, has returned on retainer to the British as a translator whenever the British want to make themselves understood, or to hear from the locals. Owen also helps Lieutenant Yolland (Erik Hellman), known as “George” for most of the play, in the Anglicizing process.

In one incisive scene Owen explains to George the etymology of a place name for a crossroads: 

“We call that crossroads Tobair Vree. And why do we call it Tobair Vree? I’ll tell you why. Tobair means ‘a well.’ But what does Vree mean? It’s a corruption of Brian—an erosion of Tobair Bhriain. Because a hundred-and-fifty years ago there used to be a well there, not at the crossroads, mind you—that would be too simple—but in a field close to the crossroads. And an old man called Brian, whose face was disfigured by an enormous growth, got it into his head that the water in that well was blessed; and every day for seven months he went there and bathed his face in it. But the growth didn’t go away; and one morning Brian was found drowned in that well . And ever since that crossroads is known as Tobair Vree—even though that well has long since dried up.”

With the weightiness of its backstory, though, “Translations” is primarily entertaining and very funny. “Honest to God,” says one of the hedge school students, Maire (Julia Rowley), “some people aren’t happy unless they are miserable.” The characters are witty, and concerned with the life at hand, not the downside of British dominance.

In the course of the play, our British cartographer, George, falls for Maire, but neither can understand each other at first. We watch them learning bits of each other's languages. This relationship is also complicated by the presence of another hedge school teacher, Manus (Andrew Mueller), who expects Maire to marry him.

The scenes in which George expresses his ardor for Maire in language unintelligible to her are priceless. Over several meetings, they gradually learn some of each other’s language. It’s also notable that Maire abandons the hedge schoo, seeing her future in speaking English and emigrating to England. For Maire, George is her ticket to another life. George, on the other hand, has fallen for Ireland, and sees his future there, with Maire. Neither understands the other's motivation.

At one point, we hear Owen translating an address by Captain Landry (Gregory Linington) to the gathered hedge school students. Since Owen’s “Irish” translation is rendered in English by the playwright’s design, we see a complete disconnect between what Captain Landry states, and the way Owen delivers to the students.
Ultimately there are clashes borne of the magisterial power of the English over the Irish, and this forms a fiery underlay to the human drama playing out.

Set by Andrew Boyce and costumes by James Pytal are excellent. Kudos to dramaturg Bobby Kennedy for his work in identifying this lesser known Friel script. (The playwright’s best known work is probably “Dancing at Lughnasa,” brought to film with Meryl Streep in 1998.) A shout-out for the work of casting director Katie Galetti, CSA, who cast a wide net for the talent on stage. Performances by Andrew Mueller as Manus and Casey Hoekstra as Owen (the two are brothers) are particularly noteworthy, as was Julia Rowley as Sarah, a student with a speech impediment. I have to say I loved watching the angry student Bridget (Chloe Baldwin).

“Translations runs through May 4, 2025 at Writers Theater in Glenco, and comes highly recommended.

“Every Brilliant Thing,” places unusual demands on its lead character, Narrator. Jessie Fisher delivers a carefully calibrated performance from a comedic script that is deceivingly simple, but deeply emotional and upon reading it afterward, I saw that it is beautifully structured, as well. 

Fisher is the center of our attention in this 70 minute monologue that evokes the gamut of emotions—at times poignant and tearful, at others boisterously funny. She relates a sampling of thoughts of people, places and things intended to capture life’s happy and satisfying moments. This was Narrator's lifelong quest, begun in childhood, to stave off her mother’s suicidal tendencies by coaxing her to dwell on the brighter side of things.

In this demanding role, Fisher must be onstage 30 minutes before the “curtain” rises formally, welcoming each audience member with numbered slips of paper, each bearing a charming thought evoking joy: 1. Ice Cream. 2. Water fights. 3. Staying up past your bedtime and being allowed to watch TV. In the course of the performance, we are each called upon to read aloud the item we received. (My companion had #1654: "Christopher Walken's voice." mine was #1655: "Christopher Walken's hair.")

Fisher also eyes the incoming ticket holders as potential stagemates, and several will be called from their seats to play an array of characters from her life: a school counselor, a lecturer, a veterinarian, her father, her spouse, even herself, at one point. As the formal show begins, Fisher narrates the story of her life, and calls on these individuals and others, and all of us eventually, to voice items from the list, or to play the bigger roles. She becomes both actor, and director, and we are transformed from spectators to players, the fourth wall continuously dissolved in this unusual play.

So reliant on the audience is “Every Brilliant Thing,” that each performance varies significantly—yet reading the script afterward, things that I imagined must have been spontaneous or ad libbed, are in fact detailed by the British playwright Duncan Macmillan (with comedian Jonny Donahoe, who played Narrator in the original productions in London and New York). Director Kimberly Senior has guided Fisher to a remarkable performance that is deceivingly natural and immensely convincing. I had a chance to see “Every Brilliant Thing” a couple years ago at WIndy City Playhouse, and this production, in Writers Theatre's more intimate Gillian space is every bit as good as that one.

We see Narrator through stages of her life, in college, getting engaged, married, divorced—all the while growing and maintaining this list of “brilliant things” that make life worth living. In her earlier life, she shared it with her mother, but it made little impact on her. The audience members are cued to read their assigned thoughts by number. As she courses through life, Narrator’s list grows into the tens of thousands, and hundreds of thousands, deepening in complexity. The pace of Narrator's recitation of brilliant things hastens, and she recites many of them herself.

We see that ultimately, this list is for the Narrator, a lifeline to which she clings as a vision of a happier life. 

 “Every Brilliant Thing” runs through January 5, 2025 at Writers Theatre in Glencoe, IL, and comes highly recommended. 

*Extended through January 12th

“Gonna have to study up a little bit if you wanna keep up with the plot ‘cause it’s a complicated Russian novel,” so says the prologue in Writers Theatre’s Chicago premiere of ‘Natasha, Pierre & the Great Comet of 1812’. Don’t let the complicated Russian novel part scare you off because Dave Malloy’s unique take on Leo Tolstoy’s classic ‘War & Peace’ is anything but a living book report. It’s a serious breath of fresh air for musical theatre as a genre.

Nominated for an impressive amount of Tony Awards in 2017, including Best Musical and Best Musical Score, ‘The Great Comet’ was a smash hit to say the least. It’s not often you see a line queued up for a musical adaptation of a very long book, the other most notable being ‘Les Miserables’ in the 1980s. And just like ‘Les Miz’, the playwright has done a lot of trimming to ensure a normal two and a half hour running time. Instead of utmost faithfulness to the source material (as is the case with ‘Les Miz’), Malloy turns the period piece musical on its head. 

‘The Great Comet’ is a chamber opera, in that every line of dialogue is sung-through and the songs further the plot, hence the prologue. What’s really interesting about this particular adaptation is that for one, you do not need to have any familiarity with Tolstoy’s behemoth novel in order to be dropped into the middle of the book. ‘The Great Comet’ is but a small section of the book, but it is arguably one of the most interesting parts of the novel. Dripping with juicy soap opera subplots as well as the richly drawn interior lives of the characters, something Tolstoy was quite adept at. This show also wouldn’t spoil the overall plot of the novel as it leaves some plot points open-ended that are later solved in the novel.

Natasha (Aurora Penepacker) is engaged to Andrey (Matthew C. Yee) who is at the front fighting in the Napoleonic war. For safety’s sake she’s living with her soon-to-be in-laws in Moscow and for the first time in her life seeing the big world and all its temptations. When she meets dashing, but wicked Anatole (Joseph Anthony Byrd), she begins a risky affair that could threaten her future.

Writer’s Theatre’s production is one of the first major revivals since the original Broadway production and under Katie Spelman’s direction, it’s an absolute delight from beginning to end. When the curtain comes down on the first act, you’ll be immediately craving more. More of the music, more of the incredible voices and more of the heartrending music that cuts to the core of what it means to love.

This production culls together some of Chicago’s most formidable singers and actors including Bethany Thomas in the role of Marya (Natasha’s guardian) who gives one of the most electrifying performances of the evening. Not to be outdone, playing Nathasha’s best friend Sonya, Maya Rowe has likely the evening’s best solo with the song ‘Sonya Alone’. Aurora Penepacker does Tolstoy’s vision of the innocent Natasha more than justice, her song ‘No One Else’ provides the first pang of emotion. Though, don’t count Bri Sudia out as Pierre’s philandering wife Helen. She’s delivering pure musical theater magic all night. 

Spelman’s aesthetic for this production moves this musical from the black box to the opera house. Grand in scale, but still intimate. There’s a certain Baz Luhrmann quality to the costumes and the staging, and along with the modern pop soundtrack creates a very satisfying product. It just feels cool.

What will make this niche show continue to prosper in revivals is the music itself. Sophia Copola might be the godmother of putting modern music into period pieces, but Dave Malloy is doing more than just borrowing familiar tunes from his youth. The soundtrack feels like the first truly relistenable soundtrack in decades. Not a bit of the saccharine jukebox music with throw-away lyrics here. And though there is a musical through-line, what this show really benefits from is the unexpected diversity of unique sounding songs. Each song becomes its own world in a way that most modern musicals fail at. It feels like a harken back to the Sondheim era of musical theatre.

‘The Great Comet’ is the perfect musical for people who say they hate musical theatre. At the risk of saying “steampunk”, it’s a refreshing take on both musicals and adaptation. The creativity of both the cast and direction at Writers Theatre makes for an enchanting night at the opera.

Through October 27 at Writers Theatre. 325 Tudor Court, Glencoe, IL. 847-242-6000  

*Extended through November 3rd

If you appreciate classical music and captivating stories about brilliant artists from the past, Hershey Felder’s one-man show, Monsieur Chopin: A Play with Music, is an absolute delight. Felder, an accomplished pianist and composer, has previously wowed audiences with his portrayals of the magnificent music and talents of Irving Berlin and George Gershwin. Now, he turns his attention to the prodigious Polish composer, Fryderyk Chopin, and the result is equally compelling.

Set in post-revolutionary Paris in 1848, Monsieur Chopin runs for an uninterrupted hour and forty minutes. It seamlessly blends theater and concert, with Felder embodying Chopin as he shares personal stories and insights. The audience is transported into Chopin’s salon, where we become students listening to his rehearsals and teachings. Throughout the performance, Felder, still in character, engages in question-and-answer sessions as Chopin, creating an immersive experience that makes theatergoers feel like they are truly in the presence of the master composer.

The staging of the play is elegantly simple, yet haunting. A beautiful grand piano graces the stage accompanied by two candlelit salon tables. The backdrop features projections and archival video from the period, some of which were specially created for this production.

Felder’s talents are commendable. While many actors could portray Chopin or write a script about a famous musician, none can simultaneously play Chopin’s music with the same skill and authenticity as Felder. Conversely, although there may be numerous pianists capable of performing Chopin’s compositions for an hour and a half, none could inhabit the role of Chopin with the emotional depth and believability that Felder achieves.

In the captivating play about Chopin’s life, I discovered several intriguing and often tragic facts that were previously unknown to me, despite him being one of my favorite composers. For instance, Chopin’s renowned ‘Piano Sonata No. 2,’ commonly referred to as the “Funeral March,” was actually composed in response to the death of his younger sister, Emilia. This haunting piece has since become synonymous with funeral music worldwide.

Another revelation was Chopin’s deep affection for the brilliant French novelist George Sand. In the play, Chopin affectionately calls her ‘Madame’ and reveals that she was the true love of his life. Sand’s devotion to him and his music was so profound that she would recline on a chaise lounge directly beneath his piano, allowing her to experience the melodies ‘directly from his heart.’

Furthermore, I learned that Chopin’s musical journey began at an astonishingly young age—he made his debut as a pianist at just seven years old, showcasing his enormous talent. However, as he gained prominence, he grew disillusioned with public performances. Initial reviews criticized him for playing too softly, but the truth was that the enthusiastic upper-class audience drowned out his delicate playing with their chatter.

Monsieur Chopin weaves together many captivating stories, including the tragic childhood loss of his sister, the complexities of his love life, the challenges of safeguarding the women in his life across international borders, and his relentless battle with chronic illness. Sadly, Chopin’s untimely death at the age of 39 resulted from untreated health issues exacerbated by financial struggles. Despite his genius, he struggled to receive proper compensation for his work.

During my interaction with Chopin, I posed the question about the happiness he experienced in his life and whether there was a time when he felt successful and recognized as a genius.

Regrettably, as was often the case, Chopin responded with a resounding ‘No.’ He recounted how, after an initial reception that hailed him as a great talent, he faced subsequent criticism from critics. In response, he shifted away from live performances and instead focused on teaching music—a domain in which he excelled.

Allow me to wholeheartedly recommend this thoughtful, moving, and exhilarating musical theater piece to audiences of all ages. Hershey Felder has once again crafted a historically accurate and captivating portrayal of a brilliant genius brought to life. Throughout the performance, Felder’s intense portrayal, coupled with his remarkable pianistic skill, left the audience yearning for more of his exquisite piano playing.

Monsieur Chopin: A Play with Music, skillfully directed by Joel Zwick, is currently being staged at Writers Theatre until May 12th. For tickets and additional show information, please visit the official website.

Highly recommended.

There are but a few evenings in life that can ultimately change your destiny, David Yazbek’s The Band’s Visit tells the story of one such evening in the lives of those residing in a small Israeli town. When a lost bus drops off an Egyptian Police Band, a community offers to put them up for a night and in return, the band offers them a new perspective. All set to Yazbek’s gorgeous music created on stage by an impressive cast of actors and musicians.

Under the direction of Zi Alikhan in a co-production between Writers Theatre and TheatreSquared, this exciting new revival feels like exactly what the world needs right now. Too often the Middle East is portrayed as a war torn, chaotic region of the world and what this musical shows is that the human spirit is far more complex than ephemeral political moments.

There’s no definitive plot to The Band’s Visit but rather, a series of vignettes between the band members and the townspeople. Instead of the characters dissecting their political or religious differences, they focus on what makes them human.

The stirring music and performances make this immersive musical an unforgettable experience. The incredibly talented Sophie Madorsky leads the Israeli cast as Dina, a cynical widow who has given up on the idea of real love. Her touching evening with band conductor Tewfiq (Rom Barkhordar) is bittersweet and serves to remind us that you can find glimmers of hope at any age.

Optimists will choose to believe the band’s visit saves villagers Iris (Dana Saleh Omar) and Itzik’s (Dave Honigman) flailing marriage, reminding them too that love is complicated but worth it in the end. Their scenes together are at times heartbreaking and Dana Saleh Omar’s performance is one of the strongest assets of this production.

Youthful trumpet player Haled (Armand Akbari) is a bit of a casanova and spends the play helping young lovers find romance, despite his own predestined marriage. This is a musical about love, in all its many forms.

“The Band’s Visit” is not only thought provoking, but also a lot of fun to watch. It’s a rare departure from the ordinary musical theatre traditionally churned out by Broadway. For a musical based on a movie, this is not your typical jukebox musical adaptation that have become all too grating these days. Winner of 10 Tonys including Best Musical, The Band’s Visit is a unique, once-in-a-generation musical that requires just the right casting, direction and audience.

Writers has a hit on their hands. The show perfectly forms itself to the intimate Glencoe theater space. While audiences may shed tears, they’re not tears of pathos, they’re tears of joy. This show may not have all the toe-tappin’ songs that leave audiences singing their way home, but it certainly will leave audiences buzzing with a spirit of connectedness and hope.

Through March 17 at Writer’s Theatre. 325 Turdor Court, Glencoe. 847-242-6000

*Extended though March 24th

“You might cry, you might not,” says playwright Sarah Ruhl in the show notes of Writers Theatre’s revival of her 2003 play ‘Eurydice’. Under new Artistic Director Braden Abraham, there’s a youthfulness in both casting and staging that feels like a big breath of fresh air for the Glencoe theatre company. Sarah Ruhl’s whimsical dialog appeals to a childlike sense of wonder and her bittersweet version of this classic story may unlock parts of yourself hidden away by grown-up practicalities.

We all know the Greek mythology of Orpheus and Eurydice in which a man tries to bring his beloved bride back from the dead with the sound of his music. If he can avoid looking back at her, she can follow him out of the underworld. Easier said than done.

Sarah Ruhl’s play borrows the names and framework of the Greek tragedy, but her quirky adaptation is aimed at a modern audience. In the twenty years since this play was written, Sarah Ruhl has become a regular fixture of contemporary theatre and has been shortlisted for the Pulitzer. Her unique style of balancing small-scale spectacle with arrestingly poetic observations about life is what continues to make her work popular with audiences.

‘Eurydice’ is immediately endearing because of the well-honed aesthetic created by Braden Abraham and scenic designer Courtney O’Neill. Minimal staging makes big moments like an elevator that rains all the more theatrical. Solid casting, especially in the lead roles, makes this production even more loveable.

Sarah Price plays the title character with Kenneth La’Ron Hamilton as her Orpheus. The pair are impeccably styled by Danielle Nieves. Chic fashion combined with great chemistry, it’s nearly impossible to keep your eyes off. Price is perfectly charming throughout and shows a lot of range. Her co-star is equally compelling and together they make a good case for enduring love.

There’s a line in the play at Eurydice and Orpheus’ wedding in which she says, “Weddings are for fathers and daughters.” With that idea in mind, Ruhl richly draws Eurydice’s father into the underworld, and they get to reconnect in the afterlife. These are some of the play’s most emotionally charged moments. John Gregorio plays the role of her father barefoot and vulnerable in a way that men of a certain age are rarely written. It’s here that Ruhl veers from the source material and allows this play to really be an examination of her own life.

As the playwright said, you may cry, you may not, but you will leave with a romantic feeling. Between the spectacle created on stage and the full swath of emotions illicited by the cast, there’s a lot to unpack. Sarah Ruhl’s play has aged well and it’s exciting to see one of her earlier works done to such incredible standards at a theater not far from where she grew up. Writers Theatre’s production feels like a full-circle moment in this decorated playwright’s career.

For tickets and/or more show information, click here.