Hot Jazz... and a Funky Butt?

A norm-challenging moment is a terrible thing to waste. No one understands this more than Jeanne Calvit, Dario Tangelson, and Aaron Gabriel.

I took my seat Friday night at The Lab Theater (formerly the Guthrie's lab space) not sure what to expect. The enormous space was hazy with an overworked smoke machine chugging along in the corner. Characters were sprinkled across the barely lit stage quietly waiting for the audience to materialize.

Stacked boxes, beds, dressers, and other sundry items were stacked in two large piles flanking the stage. It looked as if Katrina had just visited.

Written by Jeanne Calvit and Dario Tangelson in 2005, "Hot Jazz at da Funky Butt" centers on a small group of principal folk-lorish heroes of Jazz during turn-of-the-century New Orleans.

James Europe (Reginald D. Haney) is a foxtrotting band leader of the time who falls to the mercy of the intoxicating sound of an unseen Buddy Bolden's new sound... the sound of Jazz! With a voodoo priestess, Marie Laveau (Zena Moses), sprinkling her sorcery on Europe and the people of New Orleans the main tension of the show resides in the resistance of the period's white culture to the new sound, and even more pointedly, heavy recalcitrance to civil rights for the black people.

While there is a weaker love story woven into the greater plot, it's challenging to grasp onto a focus of the plot. But there's good reason for that.

"Hot Jazz" is produced by Interact Theater. Their mission is to be "radically inclusive." The troupe's members are individuals with disabilities that vary in degree but in no way are allowed to inhibit each member from becoming a full and engaged contributor to the artistic process.

With a handful of the cast comprised of local actors and a transplanted Rue Fiya (a New Orleans R&B group) in concert, the vast majority of the fifty or so person cast are members of Interact Theater's troupe.

On-stage the result is an almost overwhelming exercise in social justice. While the story addresses racial tension (often with music as the vehicle) with confidence and self-awareness, audience members simply cannot deny the additional dynamic of having person with disabilities deliver this story.

Music and lyrics were written by a very competent Aaron Gabriel. The majority of musical performances have over twenty actors working in cohesion to provide viewers no excuses for disinterest. Transitions between scenes are often painted with extremely active street scenes that might fool even a native New Orleaner.

As I got up from my seat I realized that not only had I witnessed a piece of musical and cultural history, Interact Theater made history with another demonstration of their radical inclusion.

The show's run ends May 21. Tickets are still available.

Cosi fan What?

One of the hidden gems of Minneapolis lay not in the big name theaters (sorry, theatres) like the Guthrie or the Minnesota Opera, it rests with the small ones, the ones still willing to take real chances.

Last Friday I went online at the behest of my friend who happens to be the assistant director for a local theatre company's performance of Mozart's Cosi fan Tutte (roughly translated--Woman are Just That Way) and purchased tickets.

To be honest, hoping he's not reading this, I had a moment where I cringed. Oh god, I thought, another experimental theatre performance where my ass goes numb and my neck hurts keeping my head upright.

What the Dead Composers Society has done with this reliable operatic standby was astonishing even to people like me, who own no more than jeans, t-shirts, and hoodies in his weekend wardrobe.

The premise is simple and the story starts like so many great stories do: scheming men (read: boys). Guglielmo (Ben Henry-Moreland) and Ferrando (John deCausemeaker) take the bait on a wager with their single side-kick Don Alfonso (Scott Sandersfeld): we'll disguise ourselves and test the fidelity of our respective female companions. If we're wrong, woman are vindicated. If we do convince them to commit an act of infidelity, then you're right, Don Alfonso, all woman are the same.

The two woman completing the love square are Fiordiligi (Kristin Newbegin) and Dorabella (Meredith Cain-Nielsen). They are accompanied by Don Alfonso's counterpart, Despina (Sarah Gibson), a maid who has no more faith in the female race than she does of her own loyalties.

Guglielmo and Ferrando feign being drafted into battle, leave in an emotional thunderstorm only to return in disguise a short time later. Ferrando, returning disguised a la Garth from Wayne's World and Guglielmo returning resembling some approximation of Brendan Fraser in Encino Man make prey of each other's love interest.

Needless to say, Mozart wasn't directly copying Shakespeare and Shakespeare was probably copying someone who didn't matter anyway. Chaos and delight ensue. I'll spare the spoiler. It was written in 1790, something tells me the cat's out of the bag.

What makes this performance so watchable to someone like me was surely the bedrock of solid singing and musical accompaniment but even more so, the stripped away, no frills, raw staging. Held in the basement of St. Paul's Episcopal Church on Lake of the Isles, it was clear more Alcoholics Anonymous meetings probably take place there than operas.

There was no lighting other than one individual at the back of the sparsely populated audience who turned the lights on and off to single beginnings and ends. And it was all florescent. Again, my thoughts upon first sitting went right to a numb ass. Not so.

The singing was spot on, and while conventionally it's believed opera singers struggle with acting (a direct consequence of focusing on singing and not acting) I have to say an incredibly capable Sarah Gibson makes the show extremely watchable bringing nuance and character to an arguably cob-webbed storyline.

Tickets are still available and it would be a shame to miss Robert Neu's work on the side of his professional demands at the Minnesota Orchestra.