Theatre as a Rehearsal for Life!

Education Programs at Wheelock Family Theatre

Wheelock Family Theatre’s Education Programs are sustained by both a professional theatre staff and Wheelock College, whose mission is improving the quality of life for children and families. Child-development faculty from Wheelock College work with artist-educators from WFT to create a challenging and rigorous theater curriculum that is available throughout the year. The result is a dynamic and exciting education program for students between the ages of 5 and 18. A scope and sequence process can inspire at any age. Some young people might pursue a career in the arts, some may develop an appreciation for patronage, and others might take the practices of critical thinking and creative problem solving into business or science. WFT wants to develop healthy, caring, engaged citizens with the necessary tools and skill sets for life!

WHO is SHREK? Christopher Chew at the Wheelock Family Theatre

"Arts education is essential. There can really be no debate about the importance that the arts have on a civilization or more specifically a community. Education without significant contributions from the arts truly does not exist whether school systems and communities acknowledge that or not. The creativity, collaboration, critical thinking and communication fostered through arts education touches every other aspect of education more so than any other discipline. Wheelock Family Theater recognized that long before it became popular to talk about 21st Century Learning Skills or the 4 Cs of successful education. Their mission has been focused on transforming lives through exposure to live theater and education in the arts throughout their successful history. Wheelock Family Theatre has not only participated with the theater community at large in the creating art that transforms lives, WFT has nurtured and established an environment that has been transforming lives of countless individuals fortunate enough to walk through the doors and join this inclusive, wonderful family.

My entire professional career has been devoted to both education and theater. Whether I was teaching a theater course or not, my theater education has profoundly affected my perspective on how I work with students in all of my classes and now as a building principal. My acting career has always been affected by my perspective in education and the awareness of how our choices are perceived by others. My experiences here at WFT have allowed me to bring my entire experience with me to the storytelling craft more so than many of my other performing opportunities. I have treasured each and every aspect of my journey with WFT and value the rich tradition that it has and the magical impact it has on its audiences. It is an honor to be a part of that tradition and a privilege to be able to include my family in the larger Wheelock extended family. As a professional actor, there are not many opportunities to share the stage with my children and my daughter’s participation in this production has been a truly special experience that we will both always treasure. For that, we are both tremendously grateful to WFT and appreciate their contribution and commitment to the wonderful Boston Theater Community!"

Christopher returns to WFT having appeared in The Little Princess, Beauty and the Beast and The Sound of Music.

Review by Kitty Drexel, New England Theatre Geek: The Taste of Sunrise

Inclusive and Intersectional: THE TASTE OF SUNRISE

photo by Craig Bailey/Perspective Photo

 (Boston, MA) In Susan Zeder’s The Taste of Sunrise, Tuc (Elbert Joseph) grows up poor, black and deaf in an ASL-ignorant hearing community in Ware, IL.  At the behest of the well-intentioned Dr. Graham (Donna Sorbello), Jonas Tucker (Cliff Odle) sends Tuc to a school for the deaf to learn how to speak. After years of social solitude, he finally meets kids just like him. They teach him sign; Tuc learns to communicate and to express himself. With help from friends Maizie (Amanda Collins) and Nell Hicks (Brittany Rolfs), discovers what it means to self-discover, to lose and then rebuild one’s identity.

Wheelock Theatre is no stranger to inclusivity. They routinely host performances for the hearing and visually impaired. Taste of Sunrise is told through spoken dialogue, ASL interpreters, and supertitles. Traditional actors are joined by ASL actors who sign the dialogue as the traditional actors speak. When appropriate, the supertitles are projected onto the stage above all of the action.  A delicate balance is struck as both types of actors share the stage to interpret Zeder’s play. Director’s Johnson and Lement have done an excellent job to gently conveying the great strides this production takes towards equality. This is an inclusive, intersectional production that encourages the hearing audience to learn from the performance. It warmly welcomes the members of the disabled community into the audience, whoever and however they are.

Elbert Joseph delivers a strikingly beautiful and sincere performance as Tuck. With simple movement and gesture, he was able to convey opposite ends of the emotional spectrum. He tells a spirited story with such warmth that it’s specific message instantly reaches across the divide to be universally appealing and inspiring. While the performances of the rest of the cast are excellent, this production would not be as great as it is without Joseph. It is his performance as Tuc that blends all of the separate elements into one successful production. He was a wonder to watch.

It is deeply satisfying to watch a performance that normalizes the experiences of the disabled. In a beautiful contrast, it outs the abled community’s behavior as strange and awkward when the two communities commune. In this production, when Tuc experiences hardships or trauma, it’s regularly because the hearing aren’t paying attention to Tuc’s needs. For example, Tuc is calmly hunting honey in Act 2 when a pair of hearing men see him covered in bees. They assume the worst, try to save him, but their involvement leads to Tuc’s serious injury. This episode is a brilliant metaphor for the abled community’s influence on the disabled community. Had they regarded Tuc’s behavior first or, heaven forbid, trusted Tuc’s experience, the bees wouldn’t have stung anyone.

There are dramatic moments in this production that some might find disturbing. In one scene, Tuc is bound to his hospital bed. Johnson and Lement make it abundantly clear to the audience that Joseph could break character and walk away at any moment. Rather, these scenes carry weight because of the emotional trauma Tuc experiences. Just as Tuc is casually stripped of his humanity in earlier scenes that depict him engaging the people of Ware, he is similarly but more traumatically stripped when he is bound by his hands to a bed by doctors. Tuc isn’t just restrained, his voice is silenced. The hearing community has denied Tuc agency and expression. It’s disturbing because it should be.

All of humanity shares an innate need to connect, to understand and to be understood. While The Taste of Sunrise is specifically about a deaf child learning to live in the world around him, it is also about Man’s need to self express in order to understand and be understood. It is a complicated production but Wheelock has divided its heavy material into bite sized, manageable chunks for viewers young and old to enjoy

 

Review by Sheila Barth: The Taste of Sunrise

Emerson Stage, Central Square Theater and Wheelock Family Theatre have joined together to present author Suzan Zeder’s The Ware Trilogy. Although I missed Emerson Stage’s production of the first play, “Mother Hicks,” in February, I can’t imagine it could  surpass Wheelock’s sensitive, exquisite, poetic performance of “The Taste of Sunrise,” part II of Zeder’s dramatic triptych. The final play, “The Edge of Peace,” will be performed at Central Square Theater in April. They’re interconnected, but each play can stand on its own merit.

For the first time, Zeder’s trilogy is being produced sequentially in one area, enabling theatergoers to progress with the tale of Tuc, a deaf man, outcast Nell Hicks, and a foundling child, Girl.

Nell Hicks (Brittany Rolfs), a mysterious woman, cures with singing spells, herbs and potions. The Ware villagers think she’s a witch, because whomever she cures ends up afflicted or dead, they say.

In “The Taste of Sunrise,” directed by Wendy Lement and also Kristin Johnson, we progress with Tuc, from 1917 to 1928, from his infancy, becoming motherless, and being stricken deaf after a bout with scarlet fever, to his becoming an outcast; his experiences at a prestigious deaf school; loss of his father; and his return home.

Although you can’t tell, several ensemble actors, (along with a co-director, a co-assistant director, and the lighting designer) are Deaf. They blend beautifully with their hearing counterparts in this large cast, including popular Boston stars Cliff Odle, as Tuc’s loving father; Sirena Abalian, and Lewis D. Wheeler, portraying various roles and voices.

Amidst award-winning designer Janie E. Howland’s sun-drenched rustic background and set, the cast ensures every word is captured, with actor-narrators, sign interpreters, and the dialogue and stage direction beamed on the backdrop.

Roger J. Moore’s realistic sound effects and Annie Wiegand’s sensitive lighting capture changes in time, place and mood. Patricia Manalo Bocknak”s stunning choreography enhances dramatic scenes.

In the opening scene, we are engulfed in silence. Actors flutter their hands like birds, ripple them like running water, and wave like the wind. A lone narrator (Ethan Hermanson) speaks from the background, while upstage, Elbert Joseph, a superlative, deaf, Caribbean-American young actor, owns the spotlight, delivering a gut-wrenching, mesmerizing performance as the main character, “Tuc”.

Tuc’s frustration at people’s intolerance, misjudgment, and inability to understand him during his various stages, are disturbing, frightening, evoking our sympathy.

Dr. Alexis Graham, (Donna Sorbello), a well-intended teacher at the School for the Deaf, convinces Tuc’s loving father to let the boy leave his peaceful, verdant surroundings, where he communes with the wind, river, birds, bees, and all forms of nature, to attend the faraway residential school.

Watching Tuc’s fear, isolation and gloom dissipate when he meets Maizie, (Amanda Collins) a teen-age cleaning girl at the school, is heartwarming. Maizie can hear, but her parents are deaf, so she says she is, too, “inside”. She and her parents work menial jobs at the school, but starstruck Maizie loves movies, mentally mingling them with reality, and her hopes for the future.

Tuc’s joy reverberates while playacting with Maizie, fellow student Roscoe (superb Deaf actor Matthew J. Schwartz), and his Deaf classmates, until Superintendent Dr. Grindly Mann (Daniel Bolton) shatters their fun by admonishing then for using sign language instead of their words. He raps them on the hands with a ruler and imposes stricter discipline on a defiant Roscoe and the followers.

Nevertheless, Tuc flourishes at the school, learning to communicate with his peers. He eagerly returns home for the summer to demonstrate his new skills, but his enthusiasm dissipates- his father can’t understand him. Throughout Tuc and his father’s life changes, Cliff Odle as Jonas Tucker is deeply moving.

Tuc, Nell Hicks, Maizie, and Jonas Tucker’s disappointments and losses in their imperfect world are depressing, yet their journey promises hope, a touch- and taste- of sunrise at the end.

A Review of ALICE at Wheelock Family Theatre

October 24, 2014
By: Ali Hutchinson, editor and publisher of Macaroni Kid Newton-Brookline

Last weekend, my son, friend, and I were guests of the Wheelock Family Theatre for their production of Alice.  We attended the Sunday afternoon performance which was scheduled to begin at 3:00pm.  The literature on the production recommends the show for children ages 6 and up, so I decided to leave my 4 year old son at home.  In hindsight, although he most likely would not have been able to follow along with the plot, the action and colorful costumes most likely would have captured his attention enough to keep him engaged. 

From the moment we sat down, my son began asking questions about the set.  "Why is there a bed momma? Is Alice going to start there?  What is the wood on the side for?  Will they be going up and down?"  It was exciting to see the sparks of imagination fly and the intrigue build as we waited for the show to begin. I could tell he was anticipating and wondering about the show. The set design was creative and multi-purpose.  Many pieces were used for different purposes in different scenes throughout the show.

WFT's closed captioning along the side wall for the entire script was not nearly as distracting as I had initially thought it might be.  As a matter of fact, it turned out to be quite helpful.  My second grader who is learning to read and who sometimes misinterprets words in songs was able to follow along with the characters as they spoke and sang.  I never heard, "what did she say"?  He was able to refer to the closed captioning and figure it out for himself.

The show itself quickly drew us in. Right from Alice's (Maritza Bostic) first song, I began to feel for her; able to identify with a time when I wanted to do anything except that which was expected of me.  I remember the feeling when my parents said, "Don't disappoint me". That feeling was evident on Alice's face.  Between the characters facial expressions, voices, and mannerisms, we all felt as if we suddenly became a part of this world; a friend of Alice's; and we were making this journey with her.

I was especially impressed with the young actress who plays Alice's cat Dinah(Julia Talbot), and then dons a puppet to take on the persona of the Cheshire Cat.  At only 14 years old, both her physical interpretation of a cat's behavior and her vocal deliverance of the lines were strikingly accurate and those realms of reality and fantasy began to collide.

Alice's interactions with the Mouse (William Gardiner) were especially endearing; displaying tender conversations and moments of what you imagine might go on between Alice and her father.  The scenes with the Duchess and Cook as well as the Tea Party with the Mad Hatter, Hare, and Dormouse infused physical comedy into the show. There was also action in the aisles at times.  A range of emotions are felt as Alice finally finds her garden, is disappointed as it no longer looks how she imagined, and then comes to a realization about growing up.  Even my 7 year old looked up at me at one point with tears in his eyes.  Even as a young theatre goer, he was able to be drawn into the lives and emotions of the characters.  It is truly a magical show when a performance can cross ages and generations and have the same effect on vastly different people with different experiences.

I have to mention that by far the best part of the show for my son was after it was over, when the cast lined up in the foyer and were available for pictures and autographs.  He was enamored!  And although we got pictures with almost all of the cast, I'll share just a couple. The cast does this after every Sunday afternoon show.

Here he is with Alice and then with a couple of the Flower Buds. If you hadn't considered going to see the show, consider it.  Alice runs on Friday nights at 7:30, Saturdays and Sundays at 3pm.  

Please note:  I was given press tickets to review this show for my readers.  All of the ideas and statements in this article are my own.  

"Alice" at Wheelock finds balance for young and old audiences

Metro Boston - 10/22/2014  -Nick Dussault

The Wheelock Family Theatre kicks off its 34th season with “Alice,” a new musical adaptation of Lewis Carroll’s classic books “Alice in Wonderland” and “Alice through the Looking Glass.”

Written and directed by 24-year-old Stoneham native (and frequent Wheelock performer) Andrew Barbato, “Alice” takes the audience on a fun trip down the rabbit hole for a coming-of-age tale that’s sure to resonate with people of all ages. Barbato's script finds a sweet spot somewhere between fairy tale and the acid trippiness of Jefferson Airplane's "White Rabbit."

Rife with humor (some of which goes right over the younger heads in the crowd), “Alice” also boasts some not-so-subtle messages including the belief that nothing is impossible, the importance of what you do for others, and the high price of perfectionism.      

While Barbato’s enthusiasm for the story is clear from the start, his narrative sometimes loses its way. In Act I you might find yourself wondering who’s who and how you got to certain places. But stick with it. By the time you get to the Mad Hatter’s tea in Act 2, everything makes sense, except, of course, the logic of the locals at the tea.

Though the music, written by Lesley DeSantis, isn’t something you’ll be singing on your way out the door, it is warm, touching and perfectly appropriate for this piece. Alice (a vocally stunning Maritza Bostic) and the Queen of Hearts (the always-impressive Leigh Barrett) share the show’s finest musical moment, a lump-in-your-throat rendition of “Paint the Roses Red.”

Aubin Wise also delivers a standout performance as the White Queen, while Alexandra Nader shines in her stellar turn as the Cook. Russell Garrett finds the perfect amount of mad for the Mad Hatter and Jenna Lea Scott shines as the Frog Footman.

Matthew Lazure’s set (which feels like it could work in a Tim Burton film) is the perfect backdrop for “Alice” while Scott Clyve’s lighting design greatly enhances the magic of Barbato’s impressive debut production.

 

"Alice" Performs a Mash Up at the Wheelock

Wicked Local 10/23/2014
-Iris Fanger

Lewis Carroll’s beloved classic "Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland" is about a bored little girl who falls asleep at the edge of a river and dreams of a fantastic country where she must use her wits and ingenuity to make her way. At the end, her sister wakes her on the riverbank and since she’s a child of Victorian England, she probably returns home for tea. Not so in the latest dramatic adaptation of the story,"Alice," now running at Wheelock Family Theatre.

Writer Andrew Barbato and composer and lyricist Lesley DeSantis have created a new work that discards Carroll’s simple frame to the story for a mashup of themes from "Peter Pan," "The Nutcracker" and Maurice Sendak’s "Where The Wild Things Are." Their "Alice" pictures a young girl on the brink of adolescence who must grow up and accept responsibility. This trade-off has its pluses and regrets in the Wheelock’s elaborate production filled with visual treats.

The new musical begins (and will end) in Alice’s room, on the morning of her 13th birthday. Alice (Maritza Bostic) is in bed with her cat, a sinuous, ever-adoring animal (Julia Talbot), when her mother (Leigh Barrett) enters and orders her to get dressed and ready for the party. "Don’t disappoint me, " Mother says, echoed by the character of Alice’s older sister (Jennifer Elizabeth Smith). And Mother never even wishes her daughter "Happy Birthday."

Mother’s demand is the cue for Alice to run away. After hearing some lovely chimes and crossing paths with a large, clothed White Rabbit in a fearful hurry, she follows him down the rabbit hole to land in a strange place filled with some vaguely familiar creatures. Her pet has morphed into the Cheshire Cat who will be her guide; her sister shows up now and then. Most significantly, her imperious Mother has become the Queen of Hearts who rules her kingdom with fear, masked by a pretended civility. We are in a post-Freudian landscape, indeed, unknown to Mr. Carroll.

Happily, Barbato and DeSantis have populated the stage with Carroll’s inventive characters. However, Barbato, who also serves as director, has made one major error in casting. Bostic as Alice is an assured actor-singer, with a winning sense of humor, but she’s a recent college graduate, too old to play the part. Barbato wisely begins the show with a chorus of well-spoken children reciting one of Carroll’s poems. The children later transform into Flower Buds in the Red Queen’s garden. Since the cast is a mix of children and adults, surely one of these charming young actors might have been entrusted with the title role.

The adults in the show portray the characters who guide Alice along the perilous pathways of her journey, leading to the garden of the Red Queen. Barrett, one of the most accomplished members of the Boston-based theater community, is nothing less than a wonder as the monarch, enriching the DeSantis score with her luscious operatic voice. She also exaggerates the Queen’s bad manners to a laugh-out-loud delight. As anchor of the production, she is one major reason to attend it. Although she is worth waiting for, the Deck of Cards as her courtiers are missing.

Other stellar performances are delivered by Robin Long as a hip swiveling, gospel-like, shouting Duchess, William Gardiner as the kindly Mouse, Aubin Wise as the White Queen, and Jenna Lea Scott, last season’s knock-out Tracy Turnblad in Wheelock’s production of "Hairspray," portraying a genial Frog Footman. Stephen Benson needed a song to cap his quivering performance of the White Rabbitt. Lisa Simpson has delivered an attractive group of costumes that echo the original drawings by Sir John Tenniel. Matthew T. Lazure built an all-purpose, wooden scaffolding to hold the action.

While Mr. Carroll doesn’t need this reviewer to defend him, it is strange that Barbato and DeSantis wrote their own lyrics rather than using the poems that dot "Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland" and its sequel (other than "Twinkle, twinkle little bat"). How sad to not to hear "You are old, Father William," and "Soup of the Evening, Beautiful Soup," among the many omitted verses.

Wheelock Family Theatre's ALICE Appeals to the Little Ones

BWW Reviews : by Nancy Grossman

 

 

Wheelock Family Theatre opens its 34th season with Alice, a musical reimagining of Lewis Carroll's classics, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Alice Through the Looking Glass. WFT veteran Andrew Barbato wrote the adaptation and directs the production featuring a garden of flower buds played by children who may one day follow in his footsteps, as well as some perennials on local theater stages who deserve to have more than a few bouquets tossed their way. From seedlings to adolescents to full-grown, the vibrant members of this ensemble are all ready to embark on the journey with Alice, down the rabbit hole and wherever it may lead.

Alice is set in two worlds: the real world (circa 1900) of a young girl waking up on her 13th birthday, and the fantasy world she escapes to in search of her dreams. Her excursion is a little like that of Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz, as she encounters strange beings in a strange land and learns that most of your dreams can be fulfilled from the comfort of your own bed. Feeling misunderstood by her strict mother (Leigh Barrett, in fine voice) and older sister (Jennifer Elizabeth Smith), Alice (the delightful Maritza Bostic) skips out on her birthday party in an effort to hold on to her childhood just a little bit longer. Enthralled by the notoriously tardy White Rabbit (a hare-brained Stephen Benson), Alice follows him, the first of many risky choices she'll make on this important day.

Adapting from two of Carroll's works required Barbato to pick and choose the segments of the stories that he thought would be the most compelling. Among the familiar tropes are Alice growing and shrinking to try to get through a door; the Tea Party with the Mad Hatter (Russell Garrett), the Dormouse (Merle Perkins), and the March Hare (Jane Bernhard) telling Alice there's no room for her at their long table; and the Queen of Hearts (Barrett in all her regal glory) demanding that all of the roses in her garden be painted red. Barbato bookends Alice's trip with adventures on the high seas with Mouse (William Gardiner), giving her an opportunity to find some skills she didn't know she possessed, and introduces the lesser-known beautiful White Queen (Aubin Wise) who acts as a supportive spirit guide to the young girl. Alice starts out looking for an escape, but learns that you can always keep your childhood dreams, even if letting go is part of growing up.

Despite the selective process that leaves the show at about two hours (plus intermission), Alice could benefit from some judicious editing. There's a plethora of life lessons to be taught, but in act one the pace feels frenetic, one scene and musical number tumbling into the next in order to get them all in. There are seventeen songs before intermission (and another ten in the second act), making it hard to distinguish or remember many. I'm not sure that every character has to have a song. For example, out of nowhere, the Frog Footman (Jenna Lea Scott) sings about being lonely and, although Scott sings it beautifully, it's one that could go. The Tea Party trio does a cute little song and dance, but not until the conclusion of their overly-long scene at the top of act two. If some of the book segments could be cut, the flow of the remaining scenes and existing songs might improve.

The eclectic score includes, among other genres, bluesy and gospel music, as well as a sea shanty. Musical Director Robert L. Rucinski conducts a four-piece orchestra, sitting in at the piano himself, and they handle the load well. The singers are never over-powered, but (note to sound designer Roger J. Moore) there were a few instances when actors started speaking before their mics kicked in at the Saturday matinee performance I attended. The ensemble is loaded with vocal talent, but Wise and Robin Long (Duchess) deserve special mention, as does the harmonic pairing of Dashiell Evett (Tweedle Dee) and Noah Virgile (Tweedle Dum). The designers - Matthew T. Lazure (set), Scott Clyve (lighting), Marjorie Lusignan (props) - create a wonderful playground, and Lisa Simpson's costumes resonate in both worlds of the play.

Despite its flaws, there is much to recommend Alice and more than a little credit lands on the shoulders of Bostic. Although we know she's a recent college graduate, she makes us believe that she's a thirteen year old girl and, more importantly, reminds us to believe in ourselves and our dreams. There were lots of little ones in the audience and the show seemed to hold their attention, although it didn't always hold mine. For me, there wasn't quite enough wonder and magic as a percentage of the whole play, which is why I think that less might be so much more.

ALICE - a new musical

Edge Media 10/20/14 - Kilian Melloy

Has any children's book sparked so much interest, and so many re-interpretations across so many forms of media, as Lewis Carroll's 1965 novel "Alice in Wonderland" and its sequel, published six years later, "Through the Looking-Glass?"

The first film adaptation hit screens in 1903; since then there have been multiple Cineplex and television versions of the story, with a forthcoming follow-up to the 2010 Tim Burton big-screen version now in production.

On stage, the first musical version of "Alice in Wonderland' went up in 1886; two operas, a ballet, and a musical with song by Tom Waits (!!) all followed.

Now, Boston's own Andrew Barbato has chimed in with his own musical, titled -- as was the Tom Waits-involved project -- "Alice." The world premiere of the new "Alice" is ongoing now through Nov. 16 at the Wheelock Family Theatre. The thumbnail review is this: As with so many Wheelock productions, you can (and ought to) take the kids to this one. And you don't want to miss it.

Barbato has clearly scrutinized Carroll's books, but he's not slavish to them. There's a shift in emphasis, away from Lewis Carroll's political satire and onto the question... or problem... of time -- or, rather, a human awareness of time's passage, something that children scarcely register but that weighs ever more heavily on adults.

This Alice (played by Maritza Bostic) faces her thirteenth birthday with more than a trace of apprehension. Her mother (Leigh Barrett), a laced-up Victorian sort, experts Alice to behave as a proper young lady and entertain the guests at her party with a piano recital. Alice isn't so sure about going from child to young woman instantaneously, and as a function of the calendar; she determines to run away. Cue the white rabbit (Stephen Benson), the plunge down the rabbit hole, the Cheshire Cat (Julia Talbot), and all manner of elixirs that expand the mind, enlarge and shrink the body, and make doorways of opportunity into splendid gardens (or tragic wastelands) either possible or not.

Seen from a child's perspective, the world of adults is unfathomably arbitrary, not to mention inexplicably convoluted and obscure. Barbato holds on to that sense of things being askew, but streamlines the narrative so that the Cheshire Cat puts in more than a cameo appearance (she's actually more of a guide in this version) and Alice's goal -- to find her way into the fabulous garden of the Queen of Hearts (Barrett, doing nicely symbolic double duty), by way of the Queen's fancy party -- is more easily traced.

Familiar episodes abound, but they have been given a different twist to fit into the new thematic thrust. Tweedle Dee (Dashielle Evett) and Tweedle Dum (Noah Virgile) appear as brothers reluctantly compelled by their masculine pride to settle differences by means of combat -- even though, like Alice, they seem to want to hold on to childhood a bit longer.

A murine boatman (William Gardiner) ferries Alice around, the Caterpillar (Elbert Joseph) lounges on a staircase in an imaginatively staged manner, the Frog Footman (Jenna Lea Scott), armed with twisty logic, guards the gateway into what might be considered domesticity and motherhood, and -- of course, because this just wouldn't be Alice or Wonderland without it -- the Mad Hatter (Russell Garrrett) and March Hare (Jane Bernhard) host their tea party, narcoleptic Dormouse (Merle Perkins) their eternal guest.

But always there's the underlying sense that Alice is slowly coming to terms with impending adulthood; after all, she can run away from home, but she cannot escape the clock, and its ticking follows her at every turn.

That's not the play's only audible element. This is, after all, a musical, and Barbato proves to be a talented songwriter. He's prepared about 30 songs for this play; they fit the material as well as the script, with its carefully judged tweaks to the source material, does. In an early song, Alice and her mother both lament that they need "Another Person's Life"; while shipboard with the mouse at the helm, Mouse and Alice engage in a duet called "Sea As Our Guide," a deft shorthand evoking the act of faith that growing up is in and of itself.

When the terrifying Queen of Hearts -- lopper of heads, erratic tyrant and ultimate mother figure -- finally grants Alice entree to her garden, the two duet on "Paint the Roses Red," a paean to transformation that touches upon fertile physicality as much as on intellectual maturation.

In one way, this "Alice" is a generally faithful adaptation, despite some quite striking departures; in another, however, it's an updated re-imagining that speaks to a 21st century audience while identifying new elements of universal appeal. No need to update the character -- Alice is still a little Victorian girl, and it would have been crass to re-cast her as a contemporary American.

What's fresh and exciting is how the play understands that even plugged-in, tech-savvy modern children, their iPhones and other devices in hand, speak the timeless language of children and view the world from a stature different from that of adults -- a stature in flux, allowing the world to be in flux, also.

"Alice" Grows Up in New Musical Wonderland

Arts Fuse 10/22/2014

Andrew Barbato’s musical turns the Dormouse, the White Queen, and even the Red Queen (“Off with their heads!”) into nurturing Montessori teachers, concerned with comforting and reassuring an upset Alice.

By Lin Haire-Sargeant

There is much to enjoy in the Wheelock Family Theater’s Alice, a musical interpretation of Lewis Carroll’s high Victorian children’s books Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland (1865) and Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There (1872).

Talented 24-year-old playwright Andrew Barbato has imagined an entertaining coming-of-age story for Alice (ably played by Maritza Bostic). It’s the morning of her 13th birthday, and Alice dreads attending a party where she must mind her manners and play the piano for guests. Her imaginary world, Wonderland, is her only escape. As designed by Matthew T. Lazure, Wonderland’s vertical stage-filling maze of wooden trunks, platforms, ladders, and staircases contains plenty of places for Alice to hide, fall down rabbit holes, and change sizes. Beloved characters from the books (The Queen of Hearts, The White Queen, Tweedledee and Tweedledum, the Cheshire Cat, and many more) are arranged around the set like statues that come alive and interact with Alice. In the story that follows there are lively song-and-dance numbers; there are tears; there is laughter. As the playwright explained in a post-show discussion, each scene teaches Alice a different lesson about growing up. By the end of the play, Alice has been successfully coaxed to attend her party and to accept her impending womanhood.

But there’s a problem.

Lewis Carroll didn’t want Alice to grow up.

Alice’s adventures were told by Charles Dodgson (pen name Lewis Carroll) to 10-year-old Alice Liddell and her two sisters on a series of idyllic boat-ride picnics on the River Thames in the summer of 1862. He imagined for the children a glimmering alternative world, viewed through the golden gauze of summer afternoons. Alice’s father Henry Liddell was dean of Christ Church at Oxford University, where Dodson taught mathematics. The writer cherished his friendship with this distinguished family. Though shy and uncomfortable with grownups, in the company of little girls he blossomed. Adept at magic tricks, comic verse, and genteel, childish puns, his relationships with his numerous “child friends” were correct but intensely loving. It was not thought odd or alarming at the time that a grown man would be fixated upon little girls; indeed, all the evidence confirms that Dodgson never committed an impropriety. But he remained an unmarried bachelor all his life. Is there anyone less likely to create a story celebrating maturity, aside from J. M. Barrie, creator of Peter Pan? Alice cannot grow up any more than Peter. Carroll’s delightful imaginative world depended on Alice NOT celebrating the birthday that would take her to womanhood.

In addition, anyone who tries to faithfully adapt the Alice stories for dramatic presentation encounters a formidable obstacle: drama depends on development. Films can count on spectacle; a few successfully reproduce the static anarchy of the Alice books, such as Disney’s cheerfully nonsensical 1951 animated Alice in Wonderland and, on a darker note, Czech Jan Svankmajer’s surrealist 1988 stop-motion Alice. But a theater production is more earthbound—it has to get somewhere. But Carroll’s books are word-art. On the page, the transformations Alice goes through can happen as quickly and as effortlessly as a child can imagine—there is no worry over emotional impact or symbolic meaning. Many of the originals for Carroll’s poetic parodies can be known only through footnotes; others, like the tail-shaped lyric “A Mouse’s Tale,” must be seen on the page to be appreciated. This kind of intimate charm is not stageable.

Barbato’s version departs from Carroll’s in other ways. Barbato’s 13-year-old heroine is emotional and vulnerable. Carroll’s Alice may be a 7-year-old upper-class Victorian female, but she is as tough as Winston Churchill in the face of danger. She is never fazed by the behavior of Wonderland’s rude and self-absorbed characters; her automatic good manners and perfect poise smooth over any encounter. In fact, it’s vital that the characters are indifferent to Alice. She has to take her own fate in hand, and she does. In contrast, Barbato’s play turns the Dormouse, the White Queen, and even the Red Queen (“Off with their heads!”) into nurturing Montessori teachers, concerned with comforting and reassuring an upset Alice. Furthermore, whereas mathematician and logician Carroll uses the rules and pieces of games (cards, croquet, and chess) to supply a firm scaffolding for his witty chaos, Barbato eschews game structure for the biological imperative: grow or die.

That said, perhaps imposing a coming-of-age plot on Alice was the best option open to playwright and adapter Barbato. It is a time-honored story format that works well on stage, with child protagonists engaging in struggles that move them from ignorance into knowledge. The Wheelock Family Theater has a strong history of producing such plays. Recent seasons have included The Miracle Worker, The Secret Garden, and Anne of Green Gables: all of these stories center on girl protagonists who overcome trauma in order to reach self-determination. Alice acquires power too, regulating her size to suit the situation and finally reaching the garden that is her goal. Barbato makes good use of these factors—in one effective scene a long skirt is unfurled from the top of the set and Alice pops up above it, suddenly 20 feet tall. At the end of the play, Alice herself creates the garden she has been desiring by imagining it—child actors’ flower bud hats suddenly sprout outsized bright flowers. “The garden is all around you,” Alice learns. “Nothing is impossible.” These are fine lessons for children, and Barbato is to be applauded for including them.

Still, it must be noted that some children like their Alice “real.” In a post-show discussion, about 20 children crowded the front rows, eager to question the playwright. The first asked, “Why did you change Alice up?” Barbato answered that he had chosen the parts he liked best from the Alice books and movies and made that into a new play. Another question followed: “Why didn’t you just make the play out of the book?” Barbato replied that it wouldn’t have been any fun for the script to tell the same story as the book. “But some plays do,” the child insisted. Other questioners asked why some things were left out of the stage adaptation, and why characters from Through the Looking-Glass were mixed in with a mostly Wonderland-inspired play. The children debated Alice’s age: “She’s ten.” “No, seven and a half!” “No, she’s about five!” and wanted to know the actors’ ages. It turns out that several of the “flower buds” (some as young as nine) were products of Wheelock’s acting programs for children. The age of the woman playing the Cheshire Cat was a big surprise. Julia Talbot’s movement and acting skills would be impressive in an adult, but she’s only 14, another Wheelock acting alum.

Other performance standouts: Jenna Lea Scott, delightfully funny as the Frog Footman; Russell Garrett, who brought the whimsical polish of the British Music Hall tradition to the role of the Mad Hatter; and Aubin Wise as the White Queen—her gospel-diva singing has no logical connection to the setting, but she’s such a pro that it is a joy to go wherever she leads. The Duchess (Robin Long) and the Cook (Alexandra Nader) convulsed the audience with housekeeping so crazy that it turns their baby into a pig! Finally, Elbert Joseph as the speaking part of the Caterpillar (four other actors played his lower segments down a spiral staircase) haughtily interrogates Alice in dialogue straight from the Carroll text. Actors, musicians, designers, and production staff bring energy and polish to this production of a new work.

Alice’s score, written by Lesley DeSantis, dutifully samples cabaret and gospel styles. The production’s performers generally deliver the tunes via the now declamatory Broadway mode: enthusiasm trumps nuance. It did not help that during the first act the voices of the singers were amplified to the point of pain. The volume was turned down in act two, which at least made listening more comfortable. Aubin Wise’s beautiful voice and expert delivery stood out, as did the antic vocal turns of Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee (Noah Virgile and Dashiell Evett). Pianist Robert L. Rucinski’s versatile ensemble was excellent throughout, accompanying the singers with tact and steadiness.

The production I attended drew an impassioned young audience, in the know about Alice and more than ready to be thrilled by a retelling of her story. The widespread graying of the theater-going demographic is not apparent at the WFT, where the majority of the people onstage and in the audience are, as Shakespeare would say, in their salad days. If nothing else, this Alice confirms something that we tend to forget at our peril—that theater is a special enthusiasm of the young.

Drama and Teen Education

Why pre-college teens should study drama.

The arts, including drama, are not just another area of study for teenagers; the arts can change the lens through which teaching and learning happen across the academic curriculum. A drama-and-movement-based approach, especially when combined with multiple intelligences theory and practice (all of us are smart in many different ways), enhances skills that are highly prized in the workplace: critical thinking; collaboration; improvisation; empathy; and outside-the-box problem-solving. Learning public presentation skills, for example, can enable teens to shine in college interviews – an oral version of their college essays. The business community seeks college graduates who can work creatively and productively in small groups. Training in improvisation allows for calm, clear, creative thought and action under pressure. Drama education develops all of a student's intelligences and heightens their awareness of themselves, others, and the world around them. And that's a good preparation for college and beyond!

Why study drama and movement at Wheelock Family Theatre?

You'll receive individualized attention to help you build on your strengths and give you the confidence and self-awareness you need to face your challenges. WFT's professional teaching artists include Boston's finest actors and directors. Our small class size, with a 10:1 adult/student ratio or lower, ensures that we can provide you with high quality, customized training in all aspects of performance. Teachers who have come to know you will help you select specific classes to continue developing your skills and honing your craft. Equally as important, WFT is truly a diverse family that celebrates differences and warmly welcomes all. It's a place where you will make friends and become part of a supportive community, both at WFT and in Boston's theatre community. At Wheelock, you are challenged to take your work seriously, but not yourselves.

Girls Scouts attend HAIRSPRAY

 

Junior troop 71198 from St Raphael School in Medford recently went to see the Wheelock Family Theatre production of " Hairspray" that was advertised in the GS Catalog. This was one of the best shows we have ever seen! It rivaled Broadway! Kudos to GSEM for advertising and letting troops know about this amazing production. This show portrayed many of the values we teach in Girl Scouts. Tolerance, Acceptance, Being true to yourself....  It was so awesome to see how well our 9-yr olds related to this story line.

And the cast and crew were so terrific after the show, signing autographs, answering questions and we even got a back stage tour!

Thank you GSEM for letting our troop know about this wonderful show! An experience our troop will not forget!

Amy-Jayne McCabe and Dee Fagan- Co-leaders St Raphael School, Troop 71198 Medford, MA.

Actor Profile: Robert Saoud

Robert is a member of Actors’ Equity Association and has appeared at Wheelock Family Theatre in A Little Princess, Cinderella, Fiddler on the Roof, Charlotte’s Web, Tuck Everlasting, Pippi, Hello Dolly, Kiss Me Kate, The Tempest, Snow White, Beauty and the Beast, Phantom Toll Booth and Anne Of Green Gables.

"This is my 16th production with Wheelock Family Theatre. My first show was A Little Princess in 1994, so this season marks my 20th anniversary. WFT has been a wonderful place to grow and train. The theatre gave me my Equity card to play a pig in 1996. I have done Shakespeare, musicals, comedy and drama. I have been cast as the bad guy, the good guy, the funny guy, the serious guy, the witch, and even the fat man/thin man! When I was offered the role of Edna I was a little terrified. It’s become an iconic character in the world of musical theatre. When I was told they wanted to try a different take on Edna, I was intrigued. The rehearsal process has been challenging, but I think it’s difficult to play Edna and not fall in love with her.

I grew up in Detroit, and although I was very young at the time, I remember the race riots of 1968. I did not fully understand the ramifications of what was happening, but I still remember seeing the National Guard trucks rolling into the city. Hairspray deals with race on a much lighter level, but WFT has never shied away from issues that may make people uncomfortable or require them to think. One of my favorite productions I’ve seen anywhere was Wheelock’s staging of Lord of the Flies (and I wasn’t even in it)! Over the years I have made numerous ongoing friendships here. I cannot thank WFT enough for all it has given me."

Robert is a proud member of Actors Equity and Stage Source.

‘Life’ as we know it reimagined as a radio play - by Joel Brown. Boston Globe

For most people, “It’s a Wonderful Life” is a black-and-white holiday movie that pops up on TV to offer a glimpse into American life more than half a century ago. “It’s a Wonderful Life: A Live Radio Play,” adapted by Joe Landry from the 1947 Frank Capra classic, adds another layer — a look behind the scenes of a period radio performance of the story.

The Wheelock Family Theatre production that begins performances Friday makes the most of that play-within-a-play angle.

Under the direction of Wheelock producer Wendy Lement, five actors, three singers, a pianist, and two Foley artists bring to life the story of small-town banker George Bailey, whose attempts to be a good man have ended in despair. At this late date, it’s hardly a spoiler to say that on Christmas Eve, with the help of a sympathetic angel, George learns that his sacrifices have not been for nothing, and that he is the richest man in town in all the ways that matter.

Wheelock audiences won’t see the snowy streets of Capra’s fictional Bedford Falls, though. Instead they’ll be looking into a 1940s radio studio, complete with period costumes and microphones. The Wheelock actors play radio performers who in turn play the characters in “It’s a Wonderful Life.”

Acting with the voice alone is enough of a challenge, says actor Dan Bolton, who plays George. “It really does make you focus on the words and where the important idea in each word is,” he said.

Bolton credits Lement with helping him find his character arc, how George changes from scene to scene and from the beginning of the play to the end. “She’s been good at giving me guideposts as to, here’s where he’s sassy, here’s where he’s desperate, here’s where he’s right on the brink, and here’s where it all comes together for him.”

George can be a complicated guy, he says. “For instance, the scene where he watches Mary as an older librarian without George in her life, and her life is completely empty. It’s not necessarily that he feels bad for Mary, but he feels like he’s been a jerk, because he’s let the love of his life get away, and he’s let her life be empty because he wasn’t there.”

Bolton and Liz Hayes, who plays Mary Bailey, only have to play their own characters. But the other Wheelock actors — Barlow Adamson, Johnny Lee Davenport and Marina Re — play the rest of the inhabitants of Bedford Falls. Or more accurately, each “has an actor that they’re playing, who then is playing all of these different roles” on the radio, Lement says. And things can get really complicated when two of those roles end up in conversation. “It’s very fun. They’re actually having conversations with themselves and finding ways to make that clear and make it come alive.”

Lement and company have created nonverbal scenarios to give life to each of the radio performers, too.

“Like, one of the singers who’s young has a crush on one of the lead actors and runs over and gives him a Christmas gift,” Lement says. “And the woman he’s dating, who’s also one of the lead actors, sees that and gets angry. These are moments we’ve put in to try to create this as a world itself.”

Bolton says the radio cast reaches a little epiphany of its own by the end.

“There’s this great moment where the five of us look over to the Foley artists and the singers and almost take this collective sigh, like saying, ‘Wow, what a story we’ve told,’ ” Bolton says. “It’s actually one of my favorite moments in the show. They’re playing ‘Auld Lang Syne’ behind it, but it’s not sappy or sentimental, it’s just very present and very real, and every time we get to that moment, I love it. We all put on this really good story, and we all lived the message that was in this story.”

There are at least two other productions of Landry’s “It’s a Wonderful Life” in the state this holiday season: through Dec. 29 at Shakespeare & Company in Lenox, where Landry will appear for a talkback after Sunday’s matinee (www.shake
speare.org), and at the Marblehead Little Theatre through Dec. 22 (www.mltlive
.com). It appears to be a holiday winner for theater companies.

So is this “Wonderful Life” the beginning of a new Wheelock holiday tradition?

“It could be,” says Lement. “We’ll actually save the set pieces in case we decide to do it again. And it might not be every year — but it might be. We’ll see what the response is.”

Eight-Legged Lessons

Life Lessons Learned by Being a Spider/Hobbit in “The Hobbit” at Wheelock Family Theatre

by Anna

 

The Hobbit was the first professional play I was in, and I loved every minute of it. I'm definitely auditioning for “Where The Mountain Meets the Moon” in December. I met some amazing people and got to know amazing actors. I formed great friendships with fellow Spobbits and learned just how much time, care, and effort goes into creating such an amazing play. It was one of the best experiences of my life.

 

There are lots of things that being in “The Hobbit” taught me—about the audition process, about being in a show, and just about life.

 

Lesson #1: Swords are scary, but stage combat is not.

 

Ok, so yeah, having a big, long sword being swung at you is scary, but not if you know what you're doing. (It also helps that the sword is blunt.) Stage combat is about looking like you're meaning to hit someone, and then missing them but looking like you hit them. That's quite a tall order, which is what makes stage combat so hard. But the ridiculously obvious cues, blunt swords, and skill of the fight choreographer and everyone onstage made it totally safe.

 

Lesson #2: Opening night is the best part.

 

I'm in the very first scene of the show as a hobbit who is very loud and rambunctious until the two adult hobbits in the scene offer us a story. On opening night, I was super-nervous:

A.)   that my stick would hit one of the lights (backstage, I was pretty much sandwiched between a light at head level and a light at foot level) and

B.)   that I would mess up onstage and forget my choreography and blocking. I mean, we OPENED THE SHOW. It had to be good. 

Then I went out and did my choreography, and reacted to the story Stephen and Tyla told us, and remembered all my blocking.

And then I went backstage and the first thing I said was "That was awesome."

 

Lesson #3: Go with the flow.

 

On the first Sunday, I subbed for Luke, who was supposed to do that show but couldn't make it. Another spider subbed for Camille, but didn't know Camille's choreography because in our cast, Caroline does it, so the spider who subbed for Camille didn't need to know it. (Complicated, I know.) This was a problem because Camille/Caroline's choreography was vital to the opening, and it wouldn't work with just two people instead of three. The rest of the opening scene craziness took their cues from the fight, so we couldn't leave it out. So Nadia (the other hobbit in the stick fight) and I went backstage with our sticks and came up with a new fight (this all happened about five minutes before curtain). We came up with it, practiced it twice, then went out and did it onstage. I reminded myself that 95% of the audience didn't know what was supposed to happen for the stick fight, and it wasn't too bad for something devised in the backstage hallway in ten seconds.

 

This taught me to roll with the punches and be cooperative. I just added the event to my list of things I never thought I'd have to be doing (figuratively; I actually don't have a list like that) and moved on. 

 

For the Mirkwood scene, I had to do something somewhat similar. The spider who subbed for Camille didn't know the choreography for the beginning sequence in that scene, but I did and I was in the right place to do it, so I did it instead. Probably no one noticed, not even my fellow spiders. You can't tell who anyone is under those big costumes.

 

Lesson #4: Be cooperative.

 

OK, this one is kind of an offshoot of #3, but it deserves a mention in its own right. The Purple and Green Casts have different orders for the curtain call, and this different order meant that I had to come out for the curtain call from a different place than I normally did, since I wasn't really being Anna-as-a-spider, I was being Anna-as-Luke-as-a-spider. I really didn't care where I came out for the curtain call, as long as I got to come out for the curtain call.

 

The next time we had a show, one of the Purple Cast members subbed for Simona, a girl on the Green Cast. The girl who subbed for Simona did all the choreography fine up until the curtain call. We told her where Simona came out for the curtain call. She said, "No, I'm going to come out where I usually come out."

 

I really didn't understand that. We reasoned with her for a bit, and she finally headed over to the other side of the stage. The next time she subbed for Simona, she said, "I'm not dealing with that craziness again. I'm just going to come out from here."

 

I told her that the order would be messed up if she didn't come out from there. Maybe it wouldn't matter that much, but it would mess things up. She grudgingly agreed after three different people telling her that in different ways. She went over and came out in the right place.

 

The lesson I learned from this is be cooperative. Help your cast-mates out. If the director changes something, make the change in the real show. If you have to do something different, do it, don't argue. Don't be the person who messes things up and gums up the works.

 

Lesson #5: Throw your heart into it.

 

At first, I was timid. Everyone was. We didn't know what spiders were supposed to be like in this show. Then we learned. I was still timid—I still wasn't sure how to apply what I learned to what I was doing. I realized that I had the hiss, I had the spider movement, I had the totally amazing costume, but I couldn't put it together. It reminded me of a summer camp I had been to, where we had written a fifteen-minute play. I played the main character. My character's name was Libretto, and I went on a journey and met three characters: Music, Acting, and Dance. And together we defeated the villains—something I couldn't do on my own. Without Music, Acting, and Dance, I wasn't as powerful. The point was, without music, acting, and dance, the libretto was just words. Music, acting, and dance made it a musical. So I realized that me as a spider without really acting the spider was like Libretto, and the acting was like Music, Acting, and Dance—I wasn't as powerful.

 

So I threw my heart into it. I became a spider, not just a person with a cool spider costume. I added menace to my hiss, and thought spidery thoughts (one of them being Yum, dwarves). I was the spider.

 

Yesterday, after the Red Carpet, Stephen (who plays Gollum and is just supremely awesome), came up to me and complimented me on my spider-ness.

 

I was so proud of myself.

 

Lesson #6: Be in the right place.

 

This one seems like it goes without saying, but sometimes you just worry about other actors. I learned this one during the first dress rehearsal. There was a bit of a problem with the spider costume racks. When we came off from the Battle of the Five Armies, some spiders had to go through the lobby, get their shells and helmets taken off, and go back to the wing they were originally in. These spiders included me and Simona.

 

It was stressful. I got my helmet and shell taken off and went back to the wing. Simona wasn't there. I was worried about her. She was little and I wasn't sure how well she knew Wheelock. I wondered if she had gotten lost or something.

 

I stood near the door to the lobby, waiting for her, and I almost wanted to go out and look for her. When it was almost time for curtain call, she finally showed up. This problem was fixed for the Open Dress. Now we have time to spare between the Battle and curtain call. I learned that the only thing you can do is be in the right place and hope they'll show up. That's pretty much it.

 

Lesson #7: If you're going to be in a room with nine other kids who are mostly younger than you and a TV, bring headphones.

 

This one is pretty self-explanatory. For Open Dress and Opening Night, I only had my Nook, because I didn't expect it to get that loud. But it did. They had the movie on pretty much full volume, and it was a stupid movie at that. It could qualify as the worst movie I've ever seen.

 

For my next show, I brought headphones and my iPod. I had a much more pleasant time in the Spider Room.

 

Lesson #8: A story fixes everything.

 

I saved this one for last because it's the best one. In Scene One, we are rambunctious hobbit children who fight with sticks and run around yelling and just generally cause havoc.

 

When Stephen and Tyla, the adult hobbits, calm us down, Stephen asks us, "Are you ready for a story?"

 

We ad-lib lines like "Yes!" and "Please!" and "I love stories!".

 

A story calms us down after so much yelling and running around. A story makes us behave and be good little hobbit children. Stories fix everything, perhaps the best lesson learned from this show.