Musas
Written by Nestor Caballero
Directed by Iraida Tapias
at Greenhouse Theater, 2257 N. Lincoln (map)
thru Sept 24 | tickets: $25 | more info
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Great performances highlight entertaining but flawed piece
Water People Theater presents
Musas
Review by Joy Campbell
Nestor Caballero’s script, we are told, shows “An extraordinary encounter between two icons of contemporary art, Frida Kahlo and Sylvia Plath, in which they share the most passionate moments of their lives.”
It’s an interesting premise, and one does wonder what a friendship between the two women, from such different circumstances, might have looked like had they met (Kahlo died almost 10 years before Plath committed suicide; Plath would have been about 16 when Kahlo died at 47). Would Frida’s tenacity and passion for revolution have provided an emotional refuge for the tormented Plath? Would they have found their differences uplifting? Unfortunately, Caballero’s script sets up the premise, but doesn’t deliver much in the way of insight. It’s a great story idea that gives us little in the telling.
The performances, however, are excellent. As Kahlo, Rebeca Alemán is a whirlwind of energy, definitely the dominant personality, contrasted with Mónica Steuer’s Plath, played as a somewhat wan, lost soul. The actors embrace the choices they make, character-wise, and present wholly believable people.
The trouble is in the choices themselves: these were two very complicated people, and the script reduces them to type: Kahlo is portrayed as an ebullient, party girl who laughs off most of her troubles. We do have a scene where she struggles with physical agony related to the lifelong issues she had following a terrible bus accident, and there is a scene where she is shown enraged at discovering the affair between her husband (painter Diego Rivera) and her younger sister, Cristina. Other than that, though, she’s presented as someone whose life was one big laughing whim. We see little of the tumultuous relationship with Rivera and the effect of their affairs on their relationship. Alemán’s Kahlo is likeable, but one doesn’t feel that the script gives us the real thing.
Steuer’s Plath is low-key, repressed, unhappy, and Steuer moves in a distracted haze. There are moments of rage that burst through which are impressive in their passion, but for the most part we know that there is more beneath the surface than we are seeing, and it leaves us wanting more. Available recordings of Plath reading her poems give us a woman with a strong voice, and it’s possible that her unhappiness came from being a strong woman in a world where there was no room for such a thing. She was depressed, but she was sharp.
One expects that two incredibly creative women, each with a tumultuous marriage, would have a lot to talk about, and that conversations between the two would be the perfect vehicle for showing us the people behind the icons. Instead, the characters make declarations, and exist in each other’s presence rather than engaging with one another emotionally. There are some fun scenes where Kahlo encourages Plath to get drunk or hit a piñata, but the conversations never get real (Plath tries to talk about her husband’s affair and Kahlo makes a joke about infidelity). Their most painful moments are shared with the audience, not with one another, which obviates the purpose of bringing them together. The script feels like a brief Wikipedia entry that makes dutiful reference to the most well-known aspects of their lives (Kahlo’s affair with Trotsky, Plath’s poem “Daddy,”), but never gives us the real women underneath. It sticks to the iconic, and we come no closer to understanding them as people.
The set and costume choices are also curious: the stage is split between Kahlo’s house in Mexico and Plath’s farmhouse in England. The set and costumes could show the contrast between the women’s style and the cultures in which they lived, but although Plath is shown in drab, tweedy clothing, and her desk and area are typically studious and somber, Kahlo’s side of the set is surprisingly devoid of color. Given that Kahlo was known for dressing in the colorful Tehuana style of indigenous Mexican clothing, and her art burst with strong color, it’s odd that costumer Raquel Rios chose the white dress seen in some of Kahlo’s self-portraits, and that scenic designers Fernando Delfino and Pedro Melis made white the dominant color on her side of the set when it would have been just as authentic, and more of a statement, to emulate the more colorful Frida. It makes for an overall understated effect for a woman who was anything but.
With its flaws, the show still manages to be entertaining, as the cast is excellent and the energy stays high. Live guitar accompaniment by Samuel Ocean adds a nice touch. If you are familiar with Kahlo or Plath’s life, you will understand and appreciate the references in the script, and perhaps enjoy the novelty of the premise itself.
Rating: ★★½
Musas continues through August 24th at Greenhouse Theater, 2257 N. Lincoln (map), with performances Wednesdays-Fridays at 8pm, Saturdays 3pm and 7:30pm, Sundays 3pm. Tickets are $25, and are available by phone (773-404-7336) or online through Vendini.com (check for half-price tickets at Goldstar.com). More information at GreenhouseTheater.org. (Running time: 90 minutes, no intermission)
artists
cast
Rebeca Alemán (Frida Kahlo), Mónica Steuer (Sylvia Plath)
behind the scenes
Iraida Tapias (director), Giulio Pedota (lighting design), Vada Briceno (assistant lighting design), Fernando Delfino, Pedro Melis (co-scenic design), Raquel Rios (costume design), Samuel Ocean (musician), Jewells K. Santos (production assistant)
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