David Hansen's adaptation of 'Toothpaste Millionaire' is all heart, and Talespinner Children's Theatre's world premiere production of it is all color. Under the direction of Ananias Dixon and assistant direction of Diwe Augustin-Glave, audiences watch sixth grader Rufus develop his own ingenious business plan to make and sell a cheaper version of toothpaste called... Toothpaste. It's cheap, and it works! He, his friend Kate, and a handful of other classmates form a successful company and become accidental millionaires, with the help of some supportive adults and a whole lot of perseverance. 

​Ren Twardzik's scenic design delights, with bright yellows, oranges, and blues at sharp angles and adorning machine gears, set against a backdrop of a large wall of graph paper. Projections designed by Joshua Smith depict real math problems on the chalkboard that the kids must solve in order to map out whether their 'dentifrice' (a word I learned during this show!) business will see success. The verdict - it will be wildly successful! The excited 6th grade underdogs set out to find that success and boy, do they. Actors wore adorable costumes designed by Jaclyn Vogel, who really captures the 1970's feel with sweater vests, high waist and wide leg pants, bright colors, jumpers and more. Shout out to Ren Twardzik again and Andy Zicari for pleasing light and sound design, respectively.

Quincy Brame presents a thoughtful and serious Rufus, who spearheads the business idea after finding out how much toothpaste costs. His new friend Kate, the endearing Kierstan Conway, is set to be his right hand human, adding her own ingenuity to the mix. Conway and Brame, accompanied by a fantastic ensemble, do a great job of presenting authentic children characters without making them into caricatures. Michael Frye especially shines in his cameos as Joe Smiley, Mr. Purcell, and Morton McCallister, three varied and hilarious portrayals of odd adults the kids come across. Michael, along with Nelia Holley, Kailyn Mack, and Julia Boudiab, play an array of other characters as well, including the teacher, other students, and the toothpaste manufacturing competitors. Alija Toles will understudy for Kailyn Mack. All of the ensemble actors differentiate well between their child characters and their adults. Some of the language and references will be nostalgic for older audience members and probably pleasantly silly for kids - "cool beans!" "groovy" "can you dig it?" and Peanuts-style "wa wa wa wa" noises for some adult voices. 

Talespinner is known for its accessibility design, and the design for this show by Executive Artistic Director Heather Utsler-Smith does not disappoint, with a touch/taste/smell display in the lobby to enjoy after the performance. There was also a design your own tube of toothpaste coloring page, an iPad where you can listen to playwright Hansen's playlist of songs that inspired his writing, and images that bring East Cleveland and the 1970s to life. Audiences receive an Education Guide designed by Education Director Rebecca Burcher upon entering that offers curricular connections between the show and subjects including physical education, science, and English. 

It's difficult to offer a story about capitalism that the socialist in me wants to enjoy, but Hansen and Talespinner have accomplished this by capturing the sweet and determined personalities of the characters - characters you will really find yourself rooting for. Catch 'The Toothpaste Millionaire' through Sunday, May 26 at the Rainey Institute presented by Talespinner Children's Theatre.

 Last Stop on Market Street is an upbeat, heartwarming, and surprisingly complex story about seeing beauty in difference, making friends out of strangers, and finding love in community.

With sharp direction from Rebecca Burcher and beautiful music direction from Heather Utsler-Smith, the adaptation of a well-known children's book by the same name (authored by Matt de la Peña, illustrated by Christian Robinson, adapted for the stage by Cheryl L. West) tells the tale of 7 year old CJ, who is forced to spend 96 hours (not a minute more!) with his outgoing and community-centric Nana. We follow CJ through this strange neighborhood where his grandmother lives, sans his electronic comfort items, as he meets strangers who become friends when he looks at them through the eyes of community and love. Ryanne Fury and Andy Zicari provide excellent production stage management. 

Diwe Augustin-Glave plays CJ beautifully and truthfully, an anxious and easily overwhelmed child who is unsure how to interact with this strange world. Neda Spears plays Nana with an unflappable joviality and doting sweetness that makes audiences long to call their own grandmothers if they still can. She reminds me of my own mom, who I always say could make friends with a brick wall, knows the name of every dog on the block, and has your life story in her hands within minutes of meeting you. CJ and Nana experience a culture clash we see play out in various ways - CJ doesn't speak Spanish, Nana doesn't allow electronics, CJ is hesitant to talk to strangers, and Nana says things CJ cannot understand, even in English ("lay some sugar on your grandma"). But throughout the piece, CJ learns to appreciate the differences in the strangers he meets - he learns to see with his ears, find similarities with what seems quite different, join in in the dance and song of the community, and not to judge by appearance as he makes new friends. The ensemble of Kailyn Mack, Darnell Weaver, (these two also directed the show's excellent choreography), Sara Chapman, Quincy Brame, and Karl Kimpo, brought incredible soul to this piece, their singing and dancing providing a wonderful accompaniment to the journey of CJ and Nana. 

The scenic design by Joshua Smith is classic Talespinner with an iconic mural backdrop (gorgeously, meticulously painted by Ren Twardzik) and simple set pieces that work effectively into one's imagination, with the ensemble providing Broadway-level sharpness in their quick and effective set changes. Colors abound - a red and yellow bookshelf, blue bench, and a rainbow umbrella. The costumes, designed by Jaclyn Vogel, are as colorful as the set and bring a tangible complementary energy to the set and action. I loved the Madame Butterfly costume! Sound design by Daniel Zilka is alternatingly tender and upbeat, matching the visual elements well. Talespinner continues to shine and lead in the Cleveland theatre community in its accessibility design, designed for this show by Heather Utsler-Smith and Ryanne Fury. There are sign language interpreters and audio descriptions at some performances, flashing lights indicating loud sounds and intense movement, sensory stations for overwhelmed little ones, and more. Children of all abilities and needs can enjoy this show.

A few more things I loved about this piece:

• closing my eyes along with CJ when prompted to hear the sirens, birds, wind, chatter, and more
• how Nana not only finds the beauty in underresourced places and people, but she brings it with her
• the integration of the songs into the action - as a non-musical kind of performer myself, I can grow weary easily of musical numbers, but I felt excited by them in this show
• the reminder to put down my own electronics more often and pay attention, pay attention
• the additional reminder to welcome a conversation with a stranger - you never know what similarities you may find
• the huge tears I shed at the end of the piece, spurred by Diwe's gentle portrayal of CJ's loving generosity 
• the weasel named Samantha, of course

If you have kids age 6-12, take them to see this piece, and talk with them afterwards about what they discovered. If you don't, take yourself to go see this piece - you'll be surprised what you discover, too. 

​Last Stop on Market Street runs March 16-24 at the Rainey Institute. 

I've been embracing wonder and magic more lately as I move into my late 30's. Not the sweaty-man-pulling-rabbit-out-of-hat kind, but the returning-to-the-whimsy-of-youth sort - cloud watching, star gazing, allowing Lake Erie waves to move me to tears. Life is too hard and too short not to. The Grown-Up by Jordan Harrison, on stage now at convergence-continuum, is a magical show about just that - harnessing the power of imagination and storytelling to remind us that life is short, and we should all be advised to find the wonder where we can, when we can.  

The Grown-Up centers on Kai, a young boy who learns from his grandfather that the crystal doorknob in their home is actually a magical crystal from a mermaid figurehead on a pirate ship. As he uses the crystal doorknob in different doors, he hops further and further into his future, which may have been fun until he realizes he cannot go back - in a physical sense, anyway. Kai, who shares a name with the character from Hans Christian Anderson's story of The Snow Queen, retells this story in his late 30's to his boyfriend. In the story, a little boy named Kai finds a shard of a broken mirror that pierces his eye and makes him cruel and jaded and beholden to the Snow Queen. In the end, his sister saves him. I love little bits like this in plays - while it's a clear foreshadowing of action to come with in-show Kai's sister Anna Bell, it also seems to be an allegory for losing one's childlike sense of wonder, and how to get it back. In the show, Kai tumbles quickly through many stages of life until he reaches its end, trying as he goes to remember how he got there. What and who has he missed out on?

Watching this show is like watching children play make believe. Your disbelief must be suspended and your imagination must be ready to fill in the blanks. Director Amy Bistok keeps the action moving swiftly - clothes fly around as the actors quick change right on stage to switch characters fast, and the most unique con-con staging I've seen in a while will have your eyes darting around and heads on a swivel to keep an eye on everything, expertly managed by stage manager Kristen Boehnlein. The role of in-the-shadows narrator is passed between actors from scene to scene, sometimes highlighting the action, sometimes serving as a character's internal monologue, amplifying the theme of storytelling. And this small ensemble of 6, about 20 characters between them, do a wonderful job clarifying their varying roles, switching seamlessly between characters and narrators, and making the space come alive. 

Mike Frye especially gives an authentic display of the lead character, Kai, through the stages of life - age 10, at 27, 39, 55, and finally in his 80's. His vocal register and selected characteristics helped differentiate Kai at his various ages and I especially enjoyed Mike as Kai in his 80s - legless, blind, and vulnerable in his old age. Mike shows a great naturalness with his many scene partners and helps us care for Kai. Through the show, as Kai time-jumps across decades of his life, he remembers his conversation with his grandfather: "it was today. I was ten." 

The ensemble effectively brings to life a great variety of rich characters and move along the story well. Logan Andrews plays an endearing Grandpa - with his visible tattoos and gruff voice, you have a sense he was a military guy - and Katelyn Merold his Grandma counterpart, complete with knitting needles to match Logan's pipe and glasses. Logan switches to a red-sashed, grizzly pirate and then to Kai's patient wedding day husband, Barry. Katelyn becomes Rosie, a hilarious southern belle living in her past, then a "chesty mermaid" and ridiculous wedding guest, and finally Paula, Kai's brash but kind Salvadoran caretaker. Katelyn was predictably hilarious in each role. 

Natalie Lambo as Kai's sweet sister Anna Belle, has one of my favorite lines of the show, in relation to the game of hide-and-seek she and her brother play - "heartbreakingly, all the wants is to be found" - giving weight to her lifelong search for and dedication to her brother. Audience members with close-in-age siblings will recognize the relationship between the two. Natalie gave an absolutely gorgeous portrayal of older Anna Belle. Jack Matuszweski may have the most roles, starting out as fisherman and then cabin boy to Logan's pirate, to a dense waiter and a beauty pageant judge to a hilarious Ms. Griggs. He has his juiciest role as Kai's boyfriend Steven. David Munnell absolutely nails bitchy TV exec and over-the-top wedding planner, and is effective in his star studded jacket as award ceremony emcee, delivering one of the biggest-laugh lines: "everyone in this room has been touched by Kai Sheerwater." These final scenes were so reminiscent for me of one of my favorite movies, Big Fish. 

The set design by Clyde Simon adds effectively to the magic. A total of 5 doors are strewn throughout the space, with platforms of varying heights and open space in the center, creating what any child would find to be a very fun playspace. I especially loved the tall light over the dock Josef the Fisherman perched, complete with an ancient radio and a sailor's knot of thick rope, which would be used later as the space transformed into a crow's nest of a pirate ship. Simon's projections help set the imaginative scenes - a living room, an office, rolling ocean waves, a subtly changing distant horizon, and, importantly, the tumbling through time and space. Costuming by Amanda Rowe-Van Allen and sound by Austin Hopson both effectively set  the quickly changing scenes and characters. Lighting design by Sly Robakowski must have been a challenge for this set, but it sets the moods well and included a couple of welcome surprises - under-"bed" red LEDs to set a particular mood, bright blue hues during the time travel sequences. I especially enjoyed the use of a surprise fog machine to simulate the tumble into the ocean, complete with flashlight jelly fish - the sputtering fog creating a beautiful, mystical effect for a scene between Cabin Boy and the Mermaid. Talk about magic!

If we've already gone through too many doors, if we can't go back to being children physically, can we in our hearts? Though our paper gets crumpled every night as we endure pain, can we smooth it out every night until the wrinkles are gone? This delightful production, in the style of Big Fish, aims to help us discover the possibility for being innocent again - "the first, we are given, the second, we must fight for."

​I have a complicated history with Exit, Pursued by a Bear by Lauren Gunderson, on stage now at convergence-continuum. The moment I saw the title in the season line up, I approached director Kate Smith and solemnly declared my intentions: I want to be the bear. She touched my shoulder tenderly and said with such compassion, "I am so sorry. There is no bear." I was crushed. My dream role, so soon gone. But I reluctantly dragged myself to see this bear-less show opening week, and let me tell you - I barely noticed there was no bear amidst the carefully constructed and decorated set, the well-portrayed feminist and pro-queer overtones in a rural Southern setting, and the sweet, sweet vengeance. 

Exit, Pursued by a Bear may draw its title inspiration from the sometimes drab and difficult to comprehend Shakespeare (don't @ me), but con-con's production of the show is neither - its clever staging and quick wit make for a delightful evening of tasty revenge and heartfelt friendship. Move over, 'Goodbye, Earl.'

A frequent patron of con-con, I am used to their commitment to totally transforming their space with every production, moving the audience seating to various positions and playing with their small but versatile black box to make sets come to life. I truly gasped when I entered the theatre to see how intricate the playspace was for this show! From a sweetly crocheted blanket adorning the couch to a Billy Big Mouth Bass and (real?) deer head on the wall, I honestly felt I had walked into the home of one of my rural Ohio extended family. I could almost feel the sticky, hot summer air amidst the inexplicable knick-knacks you find in real homes, the worn-looking linoleum, the earthy wood flooring. There were even the clashing colors that would never make it into Better Homes and Garden - the odd shade of beige, the 60's green that never got painted over, the questionable teal - every color more gross than the one before. I am wholly obsessed with this set - can you tell? I'm a sucker for detail, and was delighted to be able to walk through the set on the way to my seat and look around at all of the little pieces that make this (theatre) house a home.

The costuming needs were simple but the execution was thoughtful, featuring tie-front shirts and denim for the women, Simon in his hilarious cheerleading uniform (which Zavier honestly has the legs for), and a wrinkled collared shirt, messy jeans, and work boots for Kyle. The TV projection work, especially the bear PowerPoint, was a great visual complement to the action. The musical selections were perfection from start to finish, from pre-show music, to an early-2000s 'We Built This City' Nokia ringtone for Nan that made me cackle every time it rang, to the ending karaoke number. The main sound effect, though, was the 'DING' that would be heard throughout the piece to signify a stage direction adorning the home's big screen TV (another hallmark of a rural home!), a character's aside, or a memory. Director Kate Smith had a challenge to overcome with the playwright's interesting request for specific stage directions to be shown on a screen or projector, and I appreciated with a chuckle the choice to put them inside the speech bubbles of none other than the creepy deer head. The title of the show is itself a stage direction, and projecting some key ones is a clever nod to that. Working them into the set helped ground them in the play's action. And honestly, as an actor and playwright myself who takes delight in clever stage directions, some of them were truly laughable and added to the play's humor - for example, "Sweetheart starts placing venison steaks all around Kyle in a little meat fort."

Theatre folk will appreciate the nods to our kind throughout the play, far past the play's title. Simon's, "so this is theatre with an -r-e?" The recounting of memories as scenes. Nan's soliloquy and Kyle's reluctant one. The breaking of the fourth wall. Sweetheart's over-preparation for her scene. Sweetheart calling Kyle a scene hog. Pretty much the entirety of Sweetheart, actually. 

Nan, played by Amanda Rowe-Van Allen, is the conflicted leader of the scenes that unfold. She tells Kyle, played by Casey McCann, with the perfect amount of shut-up-and-listen: "first thing, honey - you've been recast," revealing Sweetheart, her partner in literal crime, stripper, and aspiring actress. Hayley Johnson was especially enjoyable in this role, playing Sweetheart as a little spacey with a whole lot of love for her friend Nan. Rounding out the cast hilariously is Zavier McClean playing Nan's longtime friend Simon, her figurative and literal cheerleader, Zavier bursting on stage in a tiny red skirt with a pom-pom. The cast was truly delightful and there was something delicious about Amanda and Hayley, who I know to be two strong women in real life, playing the roles of strong women on stage. 

Amanda plays Nan as a woman not naturally driven to vengeance, but spurred on by her supportive friends and her own wit's ends. Her obsession with Jimmy Carter, with whom she shares a last name and wishes had been her father, was endearingly bizarre. It made me wonder what kind of father Nan did have to wish so fervently for a different one. Was a broken relationship with her father what led her into the arms of the far-from-perfect Kyle? My heart broke when Nan said, "I married a man I thought was gonna be good. He wasn't." Me too, Nan. Amanda's Nan was broke, stuck, scared, and mad, and it became clear how she had been driven to this point of... well, madness. And what is madness, if not covering a man in his own illegally caught venison to be eaten alive by a bear?

Nan may not know how to pick a man but she knows how to pick her friends - and to accept them for who they are. In the end, their love in return is what gives her courage to heal.

Hayley's Sweetheart stole my heart with her overacting (Sweetheart's - not Hayley's!), her adorable spaciness, and her thoughtful furrowed brow as she weighed how to best support her new friend. Sweetheart found not only intrigue in Nan, but acceptance for who she is - a stripper - where she more often encounters judgment. Hayley made this tenderness come alive for me. Hayley demonstrated a quality I really admire in actors - an expressive listening even when in the background. Not once when I looked at her was she disengaged with a scene, even if she was outside of the action. And, I have to give props to Hayley's Jimmy Carter impression and the hilarious, dramatic floor rolls during her floor scene with Zavier. I laughed so hard during those I had a coughing fit. 

Similarly to Sweetheart, Zavier's Simon found love and acceptance with his friend Nan as part of his coming out journey. I liked Simon immediately and guffawed at many of his lines ("you said you needed support! this is a supportive outfit!" "your outfit is perfect" "I know"), helped along tremendously by Zavier's delivery. Simon may have been written as a stereotypical Gay Best Friend, but Zavier played him as nuanced and layered. His quick wit and silliness provided necessary humor to this self-proclaimed 'dark comedy.' Notable were Simon's lipsync along with "I Dreamed a Dream" from Les Mis and his thoughts on how many scoops of ice cream Nan should eat ("girl, that is not sorbet"), 

And then there was Kyle. Oh, Kyle. Casey seemed to really enjoy playing villain (same, Casey). Kyle, either himself or through Hayley playing him, made the audience cringe in how he spoke about women and about his wife in particular. Kyle's toxic masculinity was off-putting enough to make you root hard and unequivocally for Nan, and frankly, the bear. Having just seen Barbie in theaters for a second time, I wondered if Kyle would benefit from a Kenough hoodie - Kylenough? I enjoyed the genuine horror on Casey's face as Sweetheart's monologue revealed the women's sinister plan. I have to say, I was surprised at the Kyle who appeared in flashbacks to his and Nan's courtship. This Kyle was played by Casey as nervous, awkward, and conscious of his mis-stepping. I, too, have had first, second, tenth dates with men where they are much more gentle and kind, before they settle into the new relationship and show their true colors. What happens to you, men?

A lot of lines in Gunderson's play made me want to give pretentious little snaps - with apologies to the cast for the times I couldn't stop myself and actually did. One I furiously scribbled down made me want to cheer - "I plan to repopulate the world with gentlemen - kind, well-toned, generous boys who are raised as feminists" explained Nan to Kyle after revealing her pregnancy, a baby she did not plan to raise with him even if the bear didn't eat him alive. The line, "for all the women around the world who swallow panic every day," created a hard knot in my throat. The simulated violence with Sweetheart's portrayal of Kyle was enough for me - the slap, the forcing of Nan's head to the deer carcass, and not to mention the verbal and emotional abuse we saw first hand.

I enjoyed the through line of animals throughout the show: the deer carcass, the deer on the wall, the animals slideshow, the bear, of course the bear, and Penguin, Kyle's not-so-sweet and possibly fatphobic nickname for Nan. One instance of his nickname for her is met with a retort from Nan - "oh! Emperor penguins find a new mate every season." I think it's a new season, Kyle, buddy. And no, naysayers of the script, it's not as easy as 'just leaving'. Look up a thing or two about domestic violence. Sometimes feeding your abusive partner alive to a bear IS the only option. As Nan says, "baby, we're all animals, and we're all wild."

A final nod to the projections team - the well-spliced Anderson Cooper 360 episode featuring Nan was an excellent penultimate scene for the show, where Nan reveals some key things: that the bear did not succeed, Kyle lives, her son she is presumably raising with Simon is named, of course, Jimmy, and her book about her ordeal? It's titled 'Nature's Calling.' She is Nan Carter and she is alive in this wide world, and, as Jimmy Carter said, making "the days of our children better than our own."

Nan and Jimmy close by saying together, "I will do my best, but not on my own."

You sure weren't on your own, Nan.

The final scene, a karaoke number sung by Nan, Sweetheart, and Simon, has fitting lyrics to wrap up the play's centeredness on friendship: "and if this world runs out of lovers, we'll still have each other."

Exit, Pursued by a Bear, runs through September 2 at convergence-continuum. 

​

Fun fact: there is also a young adult fiction book by E.K. Johnston called 'Exit, Pursued by a Bear' written in 2016, four years after Gunderson's play, in which a high school cheerleader named Hermione Winters is drugged and raped and becomes pregnant. The log line for the book ends, "she won’t be anyone’s cautionary tale." Seeing some through lines here...

Question: Can I touch it?
Question: Is it expensive?
Question: Why does it take so long?
Question: Does it hurt?

These four questions (and more) that Black women entertain regularly in reference to their hair are woven literally and symbolically through Francisca Da Silveira's "Can I Touch It?" with a few performances remaining at Cleveland Public Theatre. Director India Nicole Burton creates a world centered around these questions and around hair, a complex aspect of what it means to be a Black woman in America. Set in Boston, the play explores a single mother's fight to support her college-bound daughter, corral her opinionated employee and niece, and protect her peace in the midst of systemic racism and white supremacy on a personal level.

Christina Johnson as Shay exudes the quiet confidence and power of a woman who says what she means. Her face wears a visible exhaustion; she is juggling too much and playing too many roles: single mother, small business owner, community leader, a woman in America, a Black person in America, a Black woman in America. Christina commands the stage with her deep voice, sharp looks, and well-placed pauses. Shay's demeanor is markedly different with her first scene partner, a white man in a position of power,  as compared to scenes with her niece and daughter and even with her white family friend, Mark, demonstrating the masks Black women are forced to wear to navigate certain worlds. The friendship between Shay and Mark is solid and tender throughout the show, even when Mark oversteps and Shay accuses him of being white savior. I was pleased to see Shay step into her power in her interactions with white woman Beth. I loved the beautiful warmth and building emotion Christina gives in her roles and was delighted at the brief opportunity for her beautiful singing to reach my ears. 

De'Aja Mon'e was almost unrecognizable as Ruth after having paraded around stage as Lili in the first two scenes. She effectively played Lili as over the top, exuberant, and... a lot.. whereas Ruth was grounded and familiar. Between Shay, Ruth, Meeka, and Lili, we see four extremely different portrayals of Black women in this show, which speaks to the diversity within the Black community and within Black women. Ruth's character retained the innocence of the final years of childhood and added the defiance of a young girl about to become a woman. Her relationship with her mother is tender and loyal, and her relationship with her cousin is smart and relatable. De'Aja demonstrated a good grasp of both characterizations and juxtaposed them well.

Michael Silas had the challenge of finding distinctions for three very different white male characters - the condescending and creepy loan officer Leo, the patient and supportive white ally Mark, and the spunky and chill barber Nicky. He did this effectively and offered the audience a view of the way white folks hold power in many different ways over the livelihoods of Black folks, intentional or not. I loved Mark's mentorship to Ruth and his role as accomplice to Shay in her fight against neighborhood gentrification, including his willingness to step aside when his voice was not needed. Nicky is an especially endearing character as a trusted friend to Meeka, with a spot on Oprah impression. 

Kadijah Wingo surprised me in her distinct portrayal of white woman Beth after establishing herself as Meeka. The show's call to double these roles is an interesting one, and I admit it was odd to see a Black actor play a white woman. But, and I can't tell you how, Kadijah did effectively play Beth pretty... well, white. The audience loved to hate Beth, whose awkward, well-meaning-but-missing-the mark white woman-ness grated on us. As Meeka, Kadijah portrays a self-realized woman who is knowledgeable, ambitious, playful, and interested in authenticity. I particularly loved Meeka's conversation with Nicky in which she describes a seemingly innocuous encounter with a white woman where the mere way the woman looked at her made her feel "wrong." This small moment underlined one of many ways Black people are affected by whiteness as they move through the world. As self-assured as Meeka comes across, with her social media rants and frequent calls to the mayor, she is made to feel small in this moment. It feels heartbreaking. 

I would be remiss not to mention King Kalim's brief video appearance as the influencer whose spotlight on Meeka wreaks havoc on her relationship with Shay. I always enjoy Kalim's work. The lighting and set are simple and effective, and I took care to notice the sides of the stage with a facade of crumbling bricks and chain link fence pieces - highlighting the urban atmosphere of the show and perhaps foreshadowing the set falling apart later in the production. The familiar music had many audience members dancing and enjoying themselves between scenes.

What an incredible array of costume pieces in this show. I am familiar with Brielle McGrew's work as a dresser and wig master, but I really appreciated her costuming for this production. The characters looked comfortable in their wardrobe pieces and their characterizations were well supported. Again, we saw Black women portrayed as diverse and multi faceted - no two had costumes that could have been worn by any other character. Kadijah as Meeka appeared in graphic tees and jackets and it's assumed she took pride in her sneaker collection. Christina as Shay commanded a presence in belted dresses and gorgeous shoes, flattering tops and black leggings. De'Aja as Ruth wore clothes that were comfortable and cute, juxtaposed by the "I'm at work but I know I look good, too" looks of Lili. Michael looked most comfortable as Nicky, with a short sleeved shirt showing off tattooed arms and a backwards cap. And, Brielle, how can I get you to snag me that yellow dress and jacket Beth wore? I'll pay.

Obviously, the incredible array of wigs is a focal point, again reminding us that Black women are anything but a monolith. The wigs looming in the background of all of the scenes brought us back to the literal and symbolic centering of Black women's hair, and to our four central questions. Exasperated, Meeka at one point refuses to participate in the abstract Q+A posed by Shay, wondering why Shay's are the only answers though Meeka and Ruth present a wide array of ways real Black women answer these infuriating repetitive inquiries. Ruth answers, 'they're not the only ones - they're just the easiest.' Again, a reminder of how Black women are affected by whiteness as they move through the world. 

The answers, by the way?

Can I touch it? No.

Is it expensive? Yes, but so am I.

Why does it take so long? (We don't get a definitive answer to this one, but you can figure it out for yourself if you've been paying attention).

Does it hurt? Of course it hurts. Beauty is pain. "FUCK easy," the women scream at us.

And, finally, is it real?
How can Shay, as she speaks directly to the audience at the end, possibly answer this? How dare we doubt whether a part of her is real? How dare we approach her with the audacity to know what real is?

Shay challenges us, "but you ask anyway - you reach out, and you take and take and take."

Is it real?
Yes, Shay confirms. It's real.

This show is about so much more than hair, but hopefully, by now, you already know that. "Can I Touch It?" has a few more showings at Cleveland Public Theatre - 7:30 pm showings on Saturday, May 6, Monday, May 8, Thursday, May 11, Friday, May 12, and Saturday May 13, and one 3:00 pm showing on Sunday, May 7.

Written and directed at Oberlin College by Cleveland's own Kari Barclay, Stonewallin’ brilliantly weaves a tale of intersectional and intergenerational ideas of race and queerness in rural America. Kari asks audiences, what does it mean to call a place and a people ‘home’? How do we confront the complexities our familial roots, living and dead, as intertwined with our chosen families and identities? Can we cast a spell against white supremacy and against cisgender and heterosexual norms? This show dazzled audiences fortunate enough to take in its short run and presented a heartwarming take on some very salient issues of our time. I hope to see it have more time on additional stages soon.

Tommy, played by Rowan Kozinets, Oberlin class of ’26, had a -- wait. '26? If my math is correct, which I assure you it rarely is, this human is a first year student? So, 18, 19 years old? WOW. Okay, let me like-share-subscribe so I can keep seeing what they get up to in their theatre career, if this is what they are capable of at such a young age.

Rowan portrayed Tommy with an endearing, contagious affect I have only seen in a few other humans - ironically or perhaps appropriately, one of them being our playwright and director, Kari. It is difficult to describe. Perhaps I can say it is impossibly kind and comfortable. Perhaps I can say they always look like they are about to laugh, but never at your expense. Perhaps I can say that they are always smiling, even when they're not, and their smile is equal parts innocent and mischievous, and when they're smiling, which they somehow always are, their entire face is doing the smiling. It's an incredibly beautiful quality. I caught myself grinning throughout the show, partially because it was chock full of clever humor, and partially because this actor just elicited that response.

Tommy is well-meaning to a fault, and interested in connection and kindness. Their unbridled joy in the moments when they are connecting with Marsha makes you root for them. Rowan's voice was tender and lovely for Tommy's serenade to Brooke while in Dolly Parton drag. As Tommy, Rowan gave just the right amount of awkward that made you laugh with them and want to envelop them in a hug and tell them, 'you're doing great.'  Tommy has a disarming enthusiasm for life despite what we can assume have been some significant challenges as a ‘guy in a skirt.’

Marsha, played by Brooke Lynlee, has a kind of confidence that Tommy did not, in herself and how she wants the world to see her, even after relocating to the South where she feels stifled. Brooke portrayed Marsha with a kind of self-knowledge I admire in women, and I liked this character immediately.

Tommy and Marsha reveal towards the end of the play their sexual and gender identities - queer and nonbinary (“not... really a guy”) for Tommy, and queer and homoromantic for Marsha. The audience spent most of the show wondering - will they? is she? is he, they? I liked this particular storytelling technique; for me, it reminded me that it’s okay not to know, and to let a person come out in their own time. The supporting characters help us wonder, reflecting our own thoughts - Elijah makes many comments about Tommy being 'gay' and a 'guy in a skirt' and Mamaw makes clear her fear that Tommy is gay. Tommy’s gender identity in this production was further compounded by the casting of Rowan as opposed to a more definitively male actor – but again, I was reminded that one’s gender is defined by them, not by my perceptions of them.

Throughout the show, both characters work through the ongoing trauma and confusion of being queer in America. While Tommy certainly presents more clearly as queer and likely has endured questions and harassment as a result, Marsha presents an important view of intersectionality – not only queer, but a woman, AND Black, AND all of these identities in the American South. While Tommy has, and knows they have, the privilege of choosing to ‘pass,’ Marsha would never be able to, and she knows this. Alternatively, Marsha has the privilege of choosing to pass as straight, where Tommy does not if they are living their true self. There were marked differences in their coming out narratives, too – Tommy consistently battles against Mamaw’s denial of their queerness, as she notes that they ‘just like earrings' and rejoices to find Tommy is dating and intimate with a woman.  Alternatively, Marsha bravely came out to her grandfather and appeared to experience rejection from this decision.

Tommy and Marsha’s chemistry is palpable. In the grocery store, the audience couldn’t help but grin as they performed their sweet dance around their common interest in one another. In the first coffee shop scene, Tommy hands Marsha a latte with a heart drawn into the foam, but Marsha sees it as a penis – a clever foreshadowing that would return towards the end of the show. The birding scene is such a unique performance of staged intimacy – a clever lean by Tommy that spoke to me as foreplay and a quirky bird-like mating dance performed by Rowan and Brooke. I can't know whether this performance of intimacy was written into the script as a bird mating dance or whether this was a clever imagining of Kari’s. Neither would surprise me as I am familiar with Kari’s intimacy work. The scene was an excellent representation of how a sex scene doesn’t need to involve sex in order to get the point across.

Marsha drops some important knowledge in that scene – Africans invented birding! I couldn’t help but think back to the viral May 2020 altercation in Central Park, in which a Black man was birding and asked a white woman to leash her dog, leading to an altercation and police involvement when the woman falsely presented herself as being in physical danger. I feel an additional weight to that situation knowing, whether the involved parties did or not, that he was in fact honoring an ancestral tradition when the altercation occurred. 

Elijah, Marsha’s brother, played by Tony Singfield, is an interesting enigma. A seemingly self-realized Black man participating in Confederate war reenactment? However, his explanation that he participates to put himself in front of “people who think the war isn’t over,” and essentially to try to create change from within, resonated with me. Tony portrayed Elijah as gentle and refined with an unconventional wisdom, except when it came to queerness. I was disappointed in his continued disparaging remarks toward Tommy as a member of an historically marginalized group himself, though this can be unfortunately common.

Olivia Bross had the audience doubled over laughing in her portrayal of “Southern Patriot” Maragaret or Mamaw, Tommy’s grandmother. Her bold choice to walk like she’d just gotten off a camel never got old, nor did her seating choice of comically ‘manspreading’ legs. Olivia is an expert of physical comedy and I hope to see her in a similar character on a future stage. Mamaw had a slew of great one-liners that had the audience awaiting more, but also some important insights into rural America that we miss when we exist in our urban echo chambers. Remarks like “we used to have a community” and “liberals don’t say hello on the sidewalk” speak to the preservation of values that bear such importance for conservatives, while her casual racism and overt homophobia remind us of the importance of value progression.

Stonewall, Tommy’s great-great-GREAT-grandfather and Civil War icon Thomas Jackson, came to life after what must have felt like an eternity standing still with a great display of lighting and a gorgeously placed breath – I love well-utilized breathwork on stage. Ana Morgan was awesome in this role. Their dialect and affect were impeccable – not only a Southern accent but a distinct old-timey way of speaking that communicated a soft and wise, though misguided, personality. I loved the casting of a woman in this role – a choice that would certainly have the real Stonewall Jackson rolling in his grave. Ana played Stonewall as multidimensional, and we even felt compassion for him as he worked through his own trauma during the PTSD flashback that was expertly portrayed with lighting and sound effects. An exasperated Stonewall, hoping for humanity, remarks, “I’m not a hero – I’m a human being,” a commentary on our battle to bring down or keep up problematic statues.  

The costuming for this show was especially enjoyable. Mamaw absolutely dressed the way an older, working-class Southern woman would. The Halloween costumes for Tommy and Marsha were both incredible. And the tremendous joke of Stonewall having to wear Tommy’s clothes and being given a delightfully queer t-shirt landed well with the audience. The set design was also excellent. I loved the lighting coming up from the short columns around the stage, Stonewall’s monument, and the coffee bar especially. The lighting was so effective in creating the world, and I loved the subtle effect of the floor design and suspended sheets adorned with mountain ranges, giving an effective rural feel. The music between scenes was engaging and provocative.

Stonewallin’ is, in its essence, about belonging - within a place, within one another, and within ourselves. And especially, within the theatre: this is a show where those who don’t often see themselves represented on stage, will. Well done, Kari and cast and crew.

Potentially unpopular opinion - I'm a little sick of dystopian stories. Like, okay, the world might end while I'm alive to see it, whatever, I already have my exit plan in place (take a ton of edibles and curl into the fetal position and go out vibin', baby. Enjoy that fat I've been storing up, zombies.). I'm also an annoying sci-fi nay-sayer - I've famously never seen any Star Wars or Star Trek and love messing with super fans of one or both by pretending to confuse them (that's right, friends - I do know that Captain Kirk is not Han Solo's father.)

So when I saw one of my favorite theatres in town was doing something "dystopian" and "science fiction," I wasn't all that interested. But I went to see "After the Blast" at convergence-continuum this spring for a few reasons.

1. I am lucky to know and care about every single person involved in this production.
2. I am also lucky to call con-con one of my local theatrical homes and am ever happy to support them.
3. con-con has a tendency to surprise me and I was willing to let them, again.

I am devastated to tell you, dear readers (aka, just my mom, hey Mom!) that I absolutely adored this dystopian, sci-fi thing of beauty con-con has put together. con-con is a theatre I love for many reasons, one of which being their penchant for producing theatre that pushes boundaries and takes risks. This is usually a good thing for me, but, being the insufferable anti-sci-fi jerk I am, I wondered if this would make for a sci-fi production that was... a LOT. As in, too much. I was wrong. "After the Blast" was just right.

con-con's production of "After the Blast" as directed by Eva Nel Brettrager was simply resonant - that is, deep, clear, and continuing to ring in my soul as a wholly captivating and beautiful envisioning of the complexities of the ghastly future we are undoubtedly creating for ourselves. 

Cory Molner and Scott Zolkowsi's set for this show, representing the subterranean bunker where "the best and brightest" of humanity move once earth becomes unlivable, was gorgeous. The lighting columns set in the walls, the sliding doors that chimed, the simple built in shelves, and even the well-done wall seams offered an atmosphere that was simple and bleak but somehow lovely. In addition to the lighting columns, the only other pops of color other than light were some succulents, some table flowers, and a couple of knick-knacks. These scarce pops of color juxtaposed well with the grey set and intentionally unremarkable beige and grey costume pieces selected by Amanda Rowe-Van Allen. Kate Smith's props were slim and effective with one exception - we'll get to him later. con-con's trend of show-appropriate pre-show speeches rife with bits of humor was heightened by the robotic affect for this show, voiced by Kate Smith. Neil Sudhakaran's projections and sounds were effective, especially during the  above-world memories of Margarita, and I appreciated Rob Wachala's lighting effects in creating color and warmth in this world of pristine and bleakness. JC Cifranic was, as always, a precise and holistic stage manager, head on a swivel and the glue holding all of the elements together. It always feels clear when they are managing a production. Another thing always clear? When Eva Nel Brettrager is directing. From first-hand experience being directed by them, I can tell you they are sharp and collaborative, creative and careful. This combination shone through in this production.

It's time. It's time to talk about mad scientist Kate Smith's creation - the robot. I wasn't sure what to expect. Would it be a human in a robot costume? An R2-D2 style trash can on a remote control car to transport it around the stage? (I had to Google that to make sure I meant R2-D2 and not C-3PO. Did you know there's another cute little guy called BB-8?) I was half right - The Helper, aka Arthur, aka Artie, aka Mija did resemble R2-D2, but also had mammal-like features - teddy bear ears and big eyes. Interesting choice, I thought. I soon came to find it was exactly what the script called for, with references to the robot being named Artie after R2-D2, being like a dog to train and lead visually impaired children in simple tasks. The combination of creatures was effective and I came to truly care for Artie as the show progressed - until I didn't.

Alex Strzemilowski was the one cast member I didn't know well. I'm sure I appreciated his initial scene as Sam, but I'm not here to talk about that. Alex bravely donned the grey skin suit most of the show to operate the robot puppet "Artie" (and, later, "Mija"). My first thought, honestly, was that I would find it distracting. However, less than halfway to intermission, I completely forgot Alex was even on stage. Alex's movements were so precise and in tune with the robot, that even as I tried to focus on Alex's work, I forgot again and again that he was operating it. When I did remember to watch him, it mostly made my 35 year old knees hurt to watch his effortless crouch-walk around stage. It was actually annoying how good he was at all of it. And, in fact, the choice to put Alex in the grey skin suit was effective in a surprising way - Alex's lack of human face made for somewhat of a creepy 'uncanny valley' effect that created a sudden discomfort upon noticing and re-noticing Alex, perhaps foreshadowing Anna's stomach-dropping realization later in the show.

As the show went on, Alex's puppetry was perfectly in sync with the off-stage vocalizations of Artie, so much so that when I leaned back so I couldn't see Alex at all, it was wholly believable that the puppet was moving on its own as it spoke. Speaking of the robot vocalization - kudos to Michael Montanus for his choices in representing Artie's voice. He and Alex worked in sync to make the robot puppetry believable, and Michael's overly formal and staccato enunciation helped remind us that Artie was indeed inhuman. Michael's rapid fire toddler-like questions and deafening volume when preparing Anna for her mental health exam provided some great comic relief. Michael had a good demeanor as Lowes - detached but still with some compassion for Anna's devastation, demonstrating a comforting humanity. 

Cat Kenney pleasantly surprised me with her Spanish speaking abilities - as a proficient Spanish speaker myself, I was interested to see how this scene would work not having found a native Spanish speaker to cast. Cat clearly did a lot of work for this one scene, where her Margarita gave us a sweet look into one of the OG undergrounders who remembers the world as it once was. Cat played the older Margarita convincingly. 

Katherine Nash and Mike Frye played charming supporting roles as Patrick and Carrie, good friends of Anna and Oliver and an effective juxtaposition of their strained marriage, fertility, and Anna's mental health. Their lives seemed to be the ideal of a couple underground - easygoing, willing to adapt, seemingly in love. I always enjoy Mike Frye's unique take on his characters, and appreciated his best friend and brother to Oliver and husband to Carrie - a worthy adversary in cleverness to both. I was delighted to see Katherine in her roles. She portrayed Carrie with an endearing wonder and an unquestioning acceptance of her world, and later on with a fierce protectiveness of her child. She joined Michael Montanus with effective comedic timing and excellent robotic vocal choices, this time as Mija, the reprogrammed robot Artie.

Patrick Warner beautifully portrayed the difficulty Oliver faced underground - wanting to fulfill his accepted purpose of making the world re-inhabitable for the next generation to survive, and wanting to support and help his wife struggling to do the same. I loved Patrick's emotional range throughout the show as he moved through Oliver's experience of taking a huge risk to help his wife find purpose - especially the scene where he listened to her tell Artie that she did not feel fulfilled by her husband. His excitement showing Anna the "Helper" video was adorable and contagious. And I loved his tentative chemistry with Carolyn in their portrayal of a couple who love one another but who don't fully understand one another. Patrick has such an old soul that shows through in his onstage persona - a world-weary wisdom that makes one curious about him. I have seen Patrick's scene work and performance of his original poetry, but this was my first time seeing him in a fully realized role, and at only 26 years old, I am thrilled to see the roles he will continue to take.

Carolyn Demanelis accomplished something in her creation of Anna that can be tricky - to depict a person with mental illness on stage in a way that is compassionate and dimensional, that respects people with mental illness off stage. From the start I empathized with Anna's difficulty to accept the world she had been given - an artist and admirer of beauty at heart, granted only sims designed by 'the artists of our time' - an interesting line to hear in this age of debate over AI-generated 'art.' I understood Anna's resistance to escaping - either into sims or through anti-depressants. I felt with Anna's hope and heartbreak at her journey above ground and her need for purpose. And then! After initial hesitation of the new being in her home, Anna's sudden affection for the dog-like Artie felt so real. Her motherlike patience for Artie's questions was lovely. I loved Carolyn's freeness singing and dancing around with Artie, her grin and inaudible 'thank you' every time he fetched the ball. My heart broke as I watched Carolyn's face fall when Artie innocently asked, "why were you made if you do not have a purpose?" - a question many with clinical depression have posed in dark times. Anna's explanation of her depression and suicidal ideation - "my purpose became not to kill myself" - was heart wrenching. When she explained her desire for a child as, "so that when we die, some piece of us remains," I felt my heart twist again - a thought on which I've certainly ruminated. And my heart - which really got a work out in this show - sank at the devastating and loaded realization Carolyn came to in the scene with Margarita and Mija. Apologies to the patrons near me - I believe I let out an audible noise of a deflating balloon as tears sprung to my eyes. Carolyn really made me feel what Anna felt, as a woman who also questions the ethics of bringing a child into this world, for whom mental health has not been simple, for whom purpose sometimes feels elusive. Carolyn's quick snap to slicing anger with its undercurrent of fear, to her tender sadness with Carrie's child, to her intense pain toward Patrick's Oliver, provided the rollercoaster of emotions Anna felt at the end of the show. Thank you, Carolyn, for your responsible and kind portrayal of all of the resonant parts of Anna this show called for.

I imagine our future may be not so dissimilar to the world cleverly created by Eva Nel Brettrager and the cast and crew of "After the Blast" at con-con. The best and brightest chosen to carry us forward, be it underground, on the moon, or elsewhere - and those not chosen left to survive however they can (may I again suggest the edibles and vibe method?). Brilliantly designed sims - those who embrace them and those who resist them. And, to my delight, some of the themes are additionally so reminiscent of our world now. Survival - not only physical, but emotional. Memories of a world before - real, or simulated - that bring us sadness and possibility. A "singles compound in the middle of nowhere" - lol.  Love, even when it feels impossible. Love, and making choices out of love that sometimes turn out to be the wrong ones. Mental illness that can't be simmed away. Finding purpose and love in unexpected places - and experiencing betrayal and heartbreak just as we do up above. 

There are three more chances to see "After the Blast" at convergence-continuum - April 20, 21, and 22. Seating is limited in their intimate black box space - reserve tickets at www.convergence-continuum.org/.