David Weaver, Calvin Vo, and Zach Ulmer in The Secret in the Wings
In the old days – okay, it was actually Saturday – when wishing for something still helped, I descended a long flight of white stairs into the underbelly of a theatre, as I had so often, ages ago. Sudden tears threatened as the taste of bittersweet fruit, ripened in times long past, flooded my mouth. When I reached the bottom, I was transported. To where, I did not yet know.
In prosaic terms, I was attending a performance of The Secret in the Wings by Tony winner Mary Zimmerman in the St. Ambrose University Studio Theatre, directed by theatre-department chair Daniel Hale. It's a retelling of a fistful of European folk tales you may not recognize, unless you've read the Brothers Grimm collection.
I've visited this little theatre, and knew it was in the mainstage's large green room, but o, my brothers and sisters – I'd never seen it like it is now. An expansive, subterranean dwelling lurks in the blue-black dim, with earthen-seeming walls exposing gorgeous, layered tangles of woodsy roots. Curving stone-looking steps glower over worn furniture and a scattering of rustic items: picture frames, a trunk, a metal tub, bundles of sticks. These things help set the tone, as well as save the busy actors from carrying all the props on from backstage. (An incongruous plastic milk crate is simply a sturdy place to sit, I guess.)
And "busy" is an understatement. Here, nine performers, seven of them students, play 57 roles, according to the program. The other two performers, Calvin Vo and David Weaver (an Ambrose grad), are known to the outside world as members of Haus of Ruckus. They take a few parts each; Weaver logs most of his stage time as a creepy babysitter for Ella (Ella Schmidt), who repeatedly asks her a highly inappropriate question to her repeated, exasperated, squicked-out "No, Mr. Weaver!"
Speaking of inappropriate, this fairytale show is not, not, not for children. The stories portrayed here, originally gathered and sometimes rewritten by the Grimms and other folklorists, are rife with parental cruelty, incest, murder, executions, and cannibalism. (Gotta say – though disgusting, the cannibalism is creatively staged and not graphic, and the beheadings are kinda cute.)
The actors' black, form-fitting basic wear enables them to make some costume changes onstage, with dresses, capes, sashes, crowns, and newspaper hats. There are a few clever puppets, too – Vo is semi-famous for creating Ruckus puppets, and Hale directed Ambrose's puppet-centric The Little Prince – but with no program credit, their origin is a mystery. Everything is acted out, it being theatre and all, but there are storytellers providing live voice-overs, too. In the “Snake Leaves Princess” segments, Bella Ruscitti, Megan Rohn, and Zach Ulmer narrate in song, their three-part-harmonies orchestrated and directed by that Circa '21 Dinner Playhouse fireball Bobby Becher. Some accompaniment is provided by a toy piano. The oral tradition is amusingly represented by the trio of Ebby Barber, Schmidt, and Rohn, utilizing schoolyard chants and attitude-filled tiffs as they help tell the disturbing story of Allerleira (Maria Saucedo).
A new Ambrose actor, Saucedo gives an affecting portrayal of the shy princess, and does well in her other roles, too. Miranda Richards, another first-timer on the SAU stage, handily performs seven different male characters. Ulmer, one of the most experienced performers here, plays 11 men, ranging from amusing to stern to straight-up predatory. In fact, most of these folks appear as dudes at some point; testimony that these surviving stories, first written down 200 or so years ago, tend to focus on men.
The Secret in the Wings set is not only delicious to look at, but provides surprising entrance places. The staging is fresh, interesting, and challenging. The performers have so much to do, and I imagine they're drained at the end of each show. But frankly, it also looks like a whole lot of fun. For example, I noticed that when one happy couple danced, they were doing the Macarena. (I was likely one of the few people who'd recognize it, as it's 30 years old, which to many people might as well have been 200 years ago.)
Everyone contributed to the production's rich, detailed atmosphere, particularly scenic/lighting designer and technical director Aaron Hook, scene painter Becky Meissen, props designer Zach Meyer and assistant Grace Hagerman, and, of course, the entire crew. Director Hale's comprehensive sound design includes startling thunder and lightning strikes to accompany Hook's stabbing, brilliant flashes, and aural effects to enhance mimed actions on stage.
Even pre-show, atmosphere rules here. No traditional house lights; mostly cobalt glows, and strings of faintly pulsing yellow vintage-style cylindrical bulbs. Hale's music choices include "The Garland Waltz" from Tchaikovsky's Sleeping Beauty ballet, given lyrics and inserted in Disney's animated version as "Once Upon a Dream." We hear a lugubrious, drunk-sounding guy singing a static-filled version of "Dream a Little Dream of Me." Also, there were no announcements to endure. The place just went to black and got straight into the drama.
I'd always thought the secret in the wings was cayenne pepper. The secret of this Secret in the Wings can't be defined. It boasts a fascinating script, combined with multitudes of ideas, creativity, and lots of hard work – an eerie, intricate, slightly horrifying, funny, beautiful experience.
The Secret in the Wings runs in the Studio Theatre of St. Ambrose University's Galvin Fine Arts Center (2101 Gaines Street, Davenport IA) through April 21, and more information and tickets are available by calling (563)333-6251 and visiting Facebook.com/SAUtheatre.
