Remaining Performances:

Friday, July 15, 6 p.m.
Friday, July 22, 10 p.m.
Saturday, July 23, 6:30 p.m.

They say: “Total strangers stumble upon each other’s secrets as everyday interactions unravel into aerial, musical and visual stories of longing, leaving, catastrophe and luck. Each person must confront, midair, the people and events that are transforming their lives.”

Ali’s Take: Fringers, watch out for the ladies of UPheaval, because they are poised to turn your idea of what a circus act should be upside down and inside out. If you’e looking for the fast-paced razzmatazz of a more traditional trapeze act, pack up and move out because this one’s not for you. If, however, you’re looking for a set of chance encounters and missed connections played out in death-defying acrobatics, stick around, because the performers of the DC Aerial Collective have thrown together a lovely, if at times mismatched, set of circus acts.

UPheaval begins with the gathering of strangers at that oh-so-familiar setting, a city bus stop. The usual players are invited to the mix: the homeless man playing his bass guitar for coins, the Nervous Nellie who can’t get off her cellphone, the workaholic typing furiously on her laptop, the free spirit who isn’t afraid of anything, and the sad, quiet statuette lugging her suitcase of long-lost love and regret. These misfits stay at the edge while the true star of the show descends centerstage: the swing, the rope, the silk, whatever piece of material is to be mounted, climbed, twisted and contorted as each character tells her story.

The confessions begin as Gwynne Flanagan takes the swing and fills the stage with torn up love letters and passionate words of fury and longing. The wistful notes that float up from W.M. Goree‘s melancholic bass guitar accompany Flanagan as she glides through the air. Next up is EcHO, who strips off her grey business suit for a poignant aerial performance accompanied by a recording of Rimsky-Korsakov‘s Scherherazade op 35.

The next act of the show is perhaps the most touching and cohesive of all. A brush between Flanagan and Kate Winston sends them clambering for the ropes to act out their differences. Accompanied by Goree and the powerful soprano vocals of Tara McCredie, the two women weave in and out, playing out their emotions through intricate acrobatic maneuvers. The last two numbers are the swift yet compelling swing solo by Sonya Melissa, accompanied by a recording of remixed classical music, and a joyous traditional Flamenco dance performed by Sarah Candela and accented by Winston, who twirls midair on a large hoop.

While the acrobatics are remarkable, the pace suffers from long, painful intervals spent waiting for both sound cues and the next piece of aerial equipment to become securely rigged. The Mead Theatre’s infrastructure fails to meet the needs of an aerial acrobatic show: The performers seemed cramped and closely contained under low ceilings. The hackneyed dramatic device of strangers’ bus stop confessions tires after a while, and the separate acts lack a unifying storyline. While universal themes of loss and longing pervade each act, melancholy becomes elation without any cohesive transition. Yet even with these narrative setbacks, UPheaval remains a pleasing display of acrobatic skill and talent, with a few other circus genres thrown in.

See it if: You always wanted to run away to the circus, and you don’t mind waiting a few minutes for the circus to come to you.

Skip it if: You lose your marbles on a regular basis while waiting for the crosstown Metrobus to arrive at 7th and H.

My Name Is Pablo Picasso

Redrum- Fort Fringe

Remaining Performances:

Thursday, July 14 at 10 p.m.
Sunday, July 17 at 8:30 p.m.
Thursday July 21 at 6 p.m.
Sunday, July 23 at 8 p.m.

75 Minutes

They say: “PARIS /1907: An old fortune teller divines young Picasso’s future. Why do Picasso and his model Fernande fight what he tells them? By what magic can he see the future? Wowed them at Adelaide Arts Festival and Australian National Gallery.”

Sophia’s Take: In the opening tableau of My Name is Pablo Picasso, a model, Fernande, stands nude against the backdrop of a canvas reproduction of Les Demoiselles d’Avignon. Her arm is crooked behind her head, mimicking the posture of the Lady of Avignon on the left of the painting, the one who stares out blankly at the viewer.  It could be sexy, except for the immediacy with which Julia Albertson projects the model’s fatigue and soreness. The young Pablo, played by Arden Moscati, paints with an intense frustration, and little sensitivity to his muse. Right away you get the feeling that you’re in goods hands, and this thought-provoking production, directed by Elaine Meder-Wilgus, doesn’t disappoint.

Fernande soon insists on taking a break and the couple falls into an argument, in general terms over what poverty and sacrifice, in the service of Pablo’s art and ambition, is costing them emotionally. The actors do a good job of bringing individuality to this state of conflict, which is a constant in the life of any artist. Yet, what truly puts the gears of this show in motion is the arrival of the fortune-telling Old Man, played by the perfectly cast Michael Bernosky.

We know instantly that the old man is Picasso at the end of his life, come to visit or haunt his younger self, and reveal what the future has in store. From the moment Bernosky steps on stage the play is his—his because he offers a wonderful performance, and his because the older Picasso is playwright Mary Gage‘s true subject. The writing he has to work with is disproportionately nuanced in his favor. In some sections Gage nearly reduces Fernande and Pablo to devices used only to provoke Picasso, either through youthful disbelief about what the future holds, or by begging for answers. Moscati works hard to rise to the challenge Gage throws him, but I got little sense of what is emotionally different for Pablo about each new truth he hesitates to believe, why each revelation of the glory and suffering to come is special.

Knowing something about Picasso’s biography adds to the enjoyment of the show, but the play is not inaccessible to those who are unfamiliar. As a portrait of a man reflecting on his life, the piece is wonderful. Gage and this production resist idealizing Picasso. Bernosky embodies Picasso’s strengths and his flaws, his intelligence and passion, his arrogance and raging misogyny. Indeed, Picasso as Gage writes him is as articulate in his anger toward women as in his anger about the bombing of Guernica. There is more than one hateful zinger that elicited audible shock from the audience the night I attended.

Yet hatred, toward others but also toward oneself, is one of the production’s most beautifully delivered themes. This play’s Picasso loathes himself, too. He loathes his search into old age for the perfect woman and the loneliness this has brought him. I’ve never seen a Picasso and thought about the artist’s loneliness, but next time I will look for it. He even loathes his own success. The show captures the complexity of a man who craves glory, yet hates us for our applause. The audience is challenged to question, not take for granted, Picasso’s greatness, the meaning of his life, (or that of any artist) and what emotions there are to see when we look at his work.

See it if: You know little, all, or nothing about the life and times of Pablo Picasso.  All you’ll need is curiosity.

Skip it if: You have no interest in Picasso or what his life story can tell us about art.

Remaining Performances:

Tuesday, July 12th at 7:15 p.m.
Sunday, July 17th at 8:30 p.m.
Saturday, July 23rd at 12:30 p.m.

They say: “Written by emerging local playwright Timothy Guillot, Insurgent Sonata tells the story of five teenagers who attempt to start a revolution by killing their parents. Together they confront abuse, find friendship, understand love, and slowly tear each other apart.”

Emery’s Take: Included in the blood-splattered program for Junesong Arts’ Insurgent Sonata was a small questionnaire asking each audience member a different question regarding the play. Mine simply asked, “What is the importance of parenting in our lives?” This meager yet subtle attempt to generate a discussion about a valid topic was as genuine as this experience got.

Set in “an abandoned shelter in Anytown, USA”, Sonata tells the story of five teenagers engaged in a pact to murder their parents in hope of inciting a revolution that would produce a utopian society. As farfetched as that already sounds, playwright Timothy J. Guillot gets kudos for an ambitious effort to tackle the coming-of-age tale from a fresh angle. Led by their tightly wound, Christmas-light-crowned leader, Verlander (a very capable Leslie Vincent), the kids take turns reenacting the experiences with their parents that have led them to contemplate parricide.

In these reenactments and the children’s responses to them, there are authentic moments of emotion reached on stage; however they are trumped for outrageous and sometimes ridiculous subplots simply added for shock value. Shortly after killing his parents, a disturbed Mesh (Kyle Encinas) shares a memorable scene with Maestro (Steve Isaac), who manages to defuse Mesh’s anger by sharing with him a rare positive experience from his own marred childhood. That scene is later cheapened by a kiss between the two young men that comes with no prior development, which leads me to believe it was added purely to elicit a response from the audience. Their transformation from powder kegs of anger to hand-holding, doe-eyed romantics just doesn’t add up.

All five young actors do as much as they can with such a convoluted script, but the play fails to accomplish its aims. The questionnaire is simple and straightforward; it asks a question and demands an honest answer. The material asked many questions like the one one the paper handed to me: Why do we need parents? How is it they can provoke so much anger in us, no matter how old we are? Instead of trying to answer these riddles as sincerely and honestly as possible, Insurgent Sonata tries too hard to entertain.

See it if: You’ve ever wanted your parents to disappear, whether by magic or the means of a contract killer.

Skip it if: You don’t want to see an after-school special on steroids.

Remaining Performances:

Wednesday, July 13 at 7:45 p.m.
Sunday, July 17 at 2:15 p.m.
Thursday, July 21 at 8:00 p.m.
Sunday, July 24 at 2:00 p.m.

They say: “Five of the dictionary’s keywords revel in their superior status — until a dark prophesy warns that their power trip will soon come to an end. Can they find a way to stay on top of the page?”

Adam’s take: Open the dictionary and the words seem so innocuous. Little do we know what trouble they get up to when their human progenitors aren’t looking. These anthropomorphic words, after all, embody the same descriptive characteristics that we have ascribed to them. Place blissful and joyful side by side and there you’ll have a pair of words as happy as a clam. Not so when two antonyms meet. It is then a no-holds-barred brawl to remain the coveted choice of a generation that has so many linguistic choices. All of these words are itching to one day be part of the popular lexicon. It is anything but word play.

Recognizing the high stakes of language, Aaron Fisher has written a witty play that is comical and slightly farcical, testing the limits of what it means to be a word with a preconceived definition.  Rational (Paul Laudiero) can naturally only last so long when cast alongside Insanity (Mark Jennings). Of course, words aren’t always what we expect them to be. Drawing a bath is not always a means of washing oneself and asking for change does not necessarily lead to metal coins in one’s pocket. Perhaps our initial notions of Rational and Insanity are all wrong, too. All of this is set against a backdrop of unrequited love and vengeful murder that threatens to shuffle the words’ pecking order. (Yes, there is apparently an aristocracy among words.) The Oxford English Dictionary is not nearly as benign as we all had hoped!

The play’s premise (using words both as descriptive modifiers and as the principal characters) is certainly its most compelling feature. Fortunately, Patrick Magill‘s strong stage direction and an all-around-solid cast of actors helps animate these words, too. And most of the hundred-plus jokes are nicely delivered to elicit a deserved chuckle. Of course, in a play about puns there are inherently some that reached a bit too far. The plot sometimes strives for added layers of complexity that take away from the glow of the words themselves. (Remember:  Macbeth-like prophecy scenes must have three witches to succeed.) All told, however, the words, while full of various meanings, effectively come to life in ways they never could when merely stuck to the page.

See it if: You have often wondered about the emotional wellbeing of the words you use on a daily basis.

Skip it if: There is a petition out there with your name on it to make the unauthorized use of a pun a misdemeanor under the law.

This is Capital Fringe 2008.

And this is the City Paper’s Fringe & Purge blog, a virtual vortex of all things Fringe. Bookmark this blog now, because you’re not going to make it through July without us. Without each other, really, because this blog belongs to the entire fringe community. Want to know what show is hot? Fringe & Purge blog. Want to know what show has the most nudity? Fringe & Purge blog. Want to tap into the opening-night buzz? Fringe & Purge blog. Want to know where the party is? Fringe & Purge blog. Want to know what the hell you did at that party? Fringe & Purge blog.

Seriously, this is your Fringe forum, your steam valve, your best friend, your Playbill, your moral support, your savory hangover brunch. Leave comments. Talk to each other. Send links. Spread the word. And see as many damn shows as your pupils and cochleas and medullas oblongata can possibly handle.

Go out and fringe. Come here to purge.

[Below you will find posts from the 2007 Capital Fringe Festival.  If you're feeling nostalgic, please go ahead and peruse.]