In Circles
One of the hallmarks of the off-off-Broadway movement centered on Café Cinna and playwright, impresario and Renaissance man Al Carmines was the concerted effort to break down the vaunted Fourth Wall that separates the audience from the actors.
At a performance of this fantastic revival of one of Carmines’ own signature works In Circles, an actor served me a brownie and engaged me in conversation. Despite being about the supreme 20th Century wordsmith Gertrude Stein and her lover, this was not an Alice B. Toklas brownie, so no pot buzz, darn it. Still it was delicious, and anyway I didn’t need marijuana or any other hallucinogenic to take me on a head trip. This psychedelic, weird-but-wonderful show gave me a contact high.
First off, let me state outright: I’m not a Broadway show queen. As soon as I hear the orchestra breaking into a song, I want to lurch for the Exit. But "In Circles" helped to reaffirm my faith in the genre. The synergy among the ensemble totally put across the work’s inherent scintillating wit and touching eccentricity.
Right along with absurdists Eugene Ionesco and Samuel Beckett, the prolific Carmines’ book hits you with seemingly random Magnetic Poetry-type phrases interspersed with stream-of-consciousness lyrics in the songs. It circles around themes and moments, but not necessarily in any sequence; patterns of movement, speech, and space seem to be thrown around at random, like atoms - but like atoms, there is a definite larger (cosmic, even!) pattern at work.
Phrases like "Chop wood!" are repeated quietly or with vehemence. "I want to urge winter" is delivered pleadingly. This 1968 show, now playing for a short run back where it debuted at the Judson Memorial Church on Washington Square Park, is a gem. Catch it, please, because only Heaven (where Rev. Al is surely smiling down on this top-notch revival) knows when it will return to this sphere.
The singing is almost uniformly superb. The songs nearly brought this jaded listener to tears several times, with the catchy, majestic melodies. Sung or spoken, the nonlinear sequence of the show’s munificent language, as it washes over you in a kind of suspension of time, affects you the way staring at a Cubist painting might after lengthy thoughtful observation.
It begins to make sense. Many of the audience members seemed to warm up slowly to letting themselves feel allowed to laugh or react in ways that they didn’t seem so sure of at the start. The stage blocking was so intricate and perfectly timed that it added to the detailed, surreal effect of the show.
Paul Lincoln, as Ollie, was the Renaissance man of the evening, playing no fewer than three instruments. Sarah Ferro, as Jessie, was a standout. She had a strong stage presence and commanded the circular stage from all angles without upstaging anyone. Anthony Willis Jr. as Dole was a bit weak, with a voice (both speaking and singing) a bit forced.
Robin Manning as Mabel, very tall and thin, threw out deadpan expressions while serving tea. Her chastising throat-clearing moment when her Mildred (played by Noelle McGrath) was flirting with Sylvia was hilarious. Even serving her brownies at the show’s beginning was funny - her expressions and posture gave the audience plenty of hardy laughs. The very talented Michael Lazar, as Brother, is the show’s hottie and toward the end of the show he does finally get to take his shirt off. I knew it would happen. It would have been a travesty not to have seen his naked upper torso - chiseled and hunky. But I digress.
So, you ask, who the hell are these people?
Good question.
"In Circles" is based, nearly verbatim, on Gertrude Stein’s "A Circular Play" from 1920. Specifically, the focus is Stein’s circle of friends and the loss of a friend in World War I.
The characters seem to meet at a party, but the show goes well beyond that. There’s the death of any Infantryman; celebratory dancing over a new birth; partner-swapping; and plenty of flirtatious love. Transitions are seamless from one anecdote to the next. The characters draw you in the instant they set foot on the stage every time.
This production is back where it premiered 40 years ago. Black scrims form a shell behind the audience blocking out the larger room, a cavernous, ornate church atrium with soaring ceilings that acoustically let the singers’ voices reverberate beautifully.
It was a strong opening night.
But be forewarned: this show is not for those seeking a casual, linear story. You have to think; you have to listen to every word. Circles in circles in circles. A rose is a rose is a rose. There’s no there there. It’s all very Steinian - Gertrude Stein through and through. There is little hand-holding from the show for viewers who might not be able to follow the surreal design.
Traditional instruments (string bass, piano, banjo, acoustic guitar, accordion) are played alongside a synthesizer and all work in tandem to add to the effect of the show, which transcends time and place - the show feels very old and very new all at once. It has the classical features (costume design, hair, some subject matter) and the very modern (structure, sound effects).
Adding to the timelessness and surrealism was the set. The set was comprised solely of a series of black cylinders of various heights that served as pedestals, platforms, steps, benches, and tables - nothing else but a painted circle on the floor with abstract colorful shapes. And no props, except for a baton and candles at the play’s end.
The costumes are simple early century, in mostly drab neutral colors with subtle patterns. There is nothing to distract from the singing, acting, and dialogue. A very small audience wraps the stage in a horseshoe. Actors enter from the aisles and anywhere else there’s a space.
The audience, in fact, becomes an integral part of the overall dreamlike quality. So integral is the audience that I wanted to join them when they lined up on one musical number and did a line kick. Maybe they would have let me.
The theme of "circles" and the circularity of life come up overtly and constantly throughout the play. The actors often stood in circles, or danced in circles, always breaking the fourth wall.
Perhaps this show has stayed with me because it shows the power of close friendships without treacle. The heavy, and abrupt, shifts from states of ecstasy to states of rage in the show, were absurdist representations of the highs and lows of people who love each other deeply.
It’s a treat for a New York City transplant like me to be a part of the city’s artistic history by way of one regional, unique avant garde artist like Al Carmine. "In Circles" was a fine introduction to his work. And for only $18 you get a lot of bang for your buck.
At the end of this memorable evening, Steven Patterson, who played George, came out after the actors’ bows, and explained that his partner’s dream was to bring this production back to be performed in its original space. This production is a dream come true. One of your weirdest, most powerful dreams. This production of "In Circles" left me humming, thinking, and feeling that I’d just experienced something remarkable and important.
