Part 1

Part 2

By the end of Margulies’ two-hour dissection of the institution of marriage, I realized that like the four strong characters portrayed, I had changed my perception, or had it changed for me: for everyone, young, old, male, female, married, single, floating or grounded, this beautifully acted, Pulitzer Prize-winning drama should be required viewing.

A showcase of unstintingly realistic dialogue, virtually every word cuts so close to the bone, we squirm… or revel in our good fortune in sustaining a long, strong, reasonably happy existence with our significant other. Or both.

While effective dialogue is an essential element in theater of such high caliber, the impact of any play is dependent, of course, on the skill of the actors. Here, all four cast members, as well as Director Lon Bumgarner, bring a boatload of impressive credentials, the kind of experience for which there is no substitute.

As deceptively simple as the play’s title, the story of the lives of two married couples, Karen and Gabe, and Tom and Beth, opens with what seems a perfectly ordinary situation. During dinner at their home, Karen (Erin Wilson) and Gabe (Laurens Wilson) gleefully dominate the conversation, regaling Beth with animated tales of their recent vacation in Italy. From the get-go, both Wilsons prove their expertise in establishing an authentic interpretation of married people, smiling as they exchange sidelong glances, that universal sign that all may not be quite so rosy as it appears. Interruptions by the kids yelling (off-stage) provide another familiar note and a breeze of laughter.

Beth (Pamela Galle) shows polite interest, making excuses for her absent husband, Tom, often away on business, yet manages to telegraph with polished subtlety that there is something decidedly wrong. Suddenly, Beth bursts forth with the shocking news that Tom has left her for another woman. Galle, accomplished actress, director, producer, and Executive Director of Theatre Rep, has already gained our rapt attention.

Later that night, Tom (Jay Danner) waltzes into his and Beth’s home (the one set serving multiple purposes), claiming he was stuck at the airport due to bad weather and unable to find a hotel room. He proposes to stay the night, igniting the already-simmering pot o’ trouble and intimidating Beth with demands for details of her dinner with their best friends. He is incensed when he discovers Beth has told them “your side of the story,” appears to indulge his blood lust, and rushes out into the blizzard to present himself at Karen and Gabe’s to defend himself.

Erin Wilson executes a brilliant turn from her first-scene bubbly self to a staunch, unforgiving defender of Beth’s untenable position. From the easygoing character he created initially, Laurens Wilson becomes a dejected husband, caught between identifying with Tom, as unwilling to admit, perhaps even to himself, that he understands Tom’s issues, as he is to oppose his wife’s stance.

Act 2 begins with a flashback, the first time Beth and Tom meet at Karen and Gabe’s Martha’s Vineyard summer home some twelve years earlier. Oh, Karen and Gabe are so loving, congratulating themselves on their own recent marriage, yet even then split on their opinions of this matchmaking Karen has arranged. The angst-ridden Beth we knew from Act 1 morphs here into a butterfly, dashing in from the beach, a free-spirited artist clutching her sketchbook, initially angry at Tom’s arrogance, then charmed.

Back to the present: In the next scene a few months after the Act 1 events, Galle convincingly stages yet another blossoming, as a more mature woman giddily in love again—with Dave, an ex-co-worker of Tom’s. Coming to tell Karen of her starry-eyed intention to marry Dave, Beth defends her decision in the face of Karen’s urging her to take her time, assess her life, go off alone for a while and paint. But Beth insists she is no longer interested in her art, and ends by saying outrageous things to Karen, who finally lets her own vulnerability show.

Danner’s portrayal of a slick, nattily dressed, 43 year-old Tom, in the following scene set in a bar where he meets Gabe, adds another dimension to his carefully-built character. Tom’s essential selfishness, cynicism and shallowness come shining through as he boasts of being in love with a much younger woman, a perfectly believable development. Casually mentioning that Beth and Dave had “a thing” two years into his marriage to Beth, he raises our ire, as well as Gabe’s. He dismisses his years-long relationship with Gabe, clearly far too busy now to bother with continuing to associate with an old married guy with family values Tom does not, and does not want to, share.

In their bedroom on Martha’s Vineyard that night, Karen and Gabe are left with doubts about their marriage, their life choices, wondering if they, too, could, or should, seek greener pastures. Their coming together, at Karen’s asking “Don’t you miss me?” was the most affecting scene in the play for me, finally bringing the tears I had willed away during other startlingly realistic human moments.

Alvin Ailey Dancers

AS MAY UNFOLDS, the relief of the end of school approaches, graduations sprinkle through the weeks, and the respite of summer looms, we lucky Charlestonians have the added perk of welcoming the Spoleto Festival.

It is not too early to make plans to see a terrific array of theatre, music, and dance which will illuminate our city for another season.

I am most interested in the dance lineup, and it is a true luxury to have the crème of the current crop come to visit without seeking them out and trying to keep up with what is hot and what is not.

The Lineup

Alvin Ailey American Dance Theatre will kick off the festival on May 25 at the Gaillard Auditorium with this dynamic company of dancers that deliver the human spirit in a package of high energy, joyful intensity, and beautiful performers. For over 50 years this company has stayed true to the lineage of its founder, Alvin Ailey, who died in 1989 with the luck of having subsequent successful artistic directors like Judith Jameson and now Robert Battle who most recently took the helm of the razzle-dazzle company that nearly everyone flocks to see.

The performance will offer two programs which include new works by revered choreographers, including Battle himself, and some of the long time favorites like Ailey’s Revelations which always brings down the house. Another modern dance icon, Paul Taylor, has set Arden Court on the company, and Rennie Harris’s Home includes hip-hop and contemporary movement styles, while Ohad Naharin’s popular B: Minus 16 is always a crowd pleaser. You cannot miss with this popular group.

Cedar Lake Contemporary Ballet

Cedar Lake Contemporary Ballet returns to Charleston for another exciting look at this edgy and intriguing group of unique dancers and mostly European choreographers who offer work that gets down under the surface in a more abstract way than you will see with the other offerings this season. Hofesh Shechter of the UK also composed his score in a complex dance of patterns and rhythms which reflect man’s struggle to find harmony within chaos. Angelin Preljocaj of Albanian descent and now in France examines the religious theme of the “Annunciation” in an abstract and compelling way, while the young Canadian Crystal Pite will offer her newest work. These dancers are virtuosic and versatile and their performance is sure to ignite the art form to a new dimension, proving them to be one of today’s most innovative companies.

The Radio Show is an evening length work by Pittsburgh choreographer Kyle Abraham who was inspired by the closing of a long-time urban contemporary radio station in his hometown. When the station was struck from the airwaves, Abraham wanted to find a way movement could express the common language of a community whose culture was being altered. This group of young and talented dancers offers a theatrical approach to raw story-telling with a collage of music ranging from soul to hip-hop. Performances will be at the Emmett Robinson Theatre at the College of Charleston from June 1 through 4.

A Crack in Everything is a blend of movement and visual art with paint, sound, and video projections which surely will create a mesmerizing performance piece. Zoe Scofield and Juniper Shuey are a husband and wife team who have collaborated on this work that evokes another world where dreams and reality intermix. This is a show for the dance-goer who embraces what is not easily grasped but potent to experience. The hour long performance will be at the Memminger Auditorium June 6 through June 10.

Traces

Other events, listed as Physical Theater:

LEO Spoleto will offer a silent gem called LEO, a one-man show with mind-bending charm, performed by Tobias Wegner of the Circle of Eleven Theatre Company from Germany. The show takes Fred Astaire’s dancing on the ceiling trick and goes to town with the possibilities, receiving wide acclaim for its combination of acting, dance, and circus arts sprinkled with humor. Half of the stage is the live performer in a small room and the other is a screen where what is happening is being projected on a screen as the camera is turned 180 degrees, creating a gravity defying mirror effect.  This will be at the Emmett Robinson Theatre May 24th through May 29.

Traces is a circus/cabaret where seven performers from Quebec perform seemingly impossible stunts in an explosive and artistic way. Set to an eclectic score, the high energy performance is sure to excite both young (8 and up) and old alike at the Sottile Theatre June 6 through June 10.

Now that you have an idea of what is offered, make your plans, invite your friends, and bask in the one of our city’s most celebrated attractions.

Cellist Edward Arron

THIS EXEMPLARY QUARTET makes it obvious that no one enjoys music as much as the musicians who play it. And rarely do you see top-notch professionals this relaxed when they perform.

Monday night at Ashley Hall, cellist Edward Arron joined violinist Carmita Zori, violinist/violist Yehonatan Berick, and pianist Rieko Aizawa (who also played the harmonium) in a preview of the program they will play tonight at the Columbia Museum of Art as the final concert in this season’s Wadsworth Chamber Music Series—which Mr. Arron hosts.

Standing and leaning gently on his cello, he introduced an intimate audience of 100 to the performers and to each piece. But it was more than instruction. It was charming, humorous, down to earth, insightful conversation. Along the way he mentioned that the room we were in—the Sottile Thompson Recital Hall on the second floor of the gracious McBee House—is “the best chamber for playing chamber music in the world.”

After the concert, I asked Edward about that compelling statement and he explained that what he particularly likes is the size and materials of the room. The wood floors, for example, are as old and in some cases older than the wooden instruments they were playing. Add to that the plaster walls, wood molding, and a slightly vaulted, 18-foot-high ceiling, and you have a naturally acoustic ‘chamber’. Put 100 people in chairs to absorb some of the sound reflection, and it’s perfect.

Edward Arron, Carmit Zori, Yehonatan Berick, and Rieko Aizawa

Lucky for us because those acoustics, the small audience, and the intimate setting brought out the best in these virtuosic musicians who are friends and who showed it on stage with their quick exchange of glances to get the timing exact, occasional foot stomping to the beat, spontaneous rising up out of their seats at heightened moments of playing—and general joy at playing together.

They also presented a lively variety of works, starting with Franz Schubert’s seldom performed Piano Trio in One Movement in B-flat Major, D. 28, which the composer wrote in his middle age—when he was 14! As Edward pointed out, the piece shows glimpses of what Schubert would become while including vigorous elements of his predecessors and peers, namely Mozart and Beethoven. Interestingly, Schubert was a student of Mozart’s now championed contemporary, Antonio Salieri.

We then heard Sergei Prokofiev’s Sonata in C Major for Two Violins, Opus 56, performed by Carmit Zori and Yehonatan Berick, both of whom hail from Israel. What a conversation this is that Prokofiev conceived. At times, it made you think it reflects him talking to himself, expressing a combination of fun, frustration, tenderness, and humor—all in Prokofiev’s intensely personal and decidedly modern style.

Two other things stood out about this work. One was the technical virtuosity required of the players. The other was that Carmit and Yehonatan stood while playing it. The two things together lent charisma and power to their performance. Sitting in a chair restricts a player’s movements, so it was refreshing to see them swaying and stepping, almost dancing, with the music.

During the first two works, a funny looking ‘box’ next to the piano did nothing but arouse curiosity. The third piece—a series of Bagatelles for Two Violins, Cello, and Harmonium, Opus 47 by Antonin Dvorák—introduced us to this “little organ” that sounds like an accordion. The keyboard player has to ‘pedal’ the harmonium to keep its bellows full of air, which is what produces the pleasant, muted sound.

Dvorak wrote the bagatelles in 12 days during one of the most productive years of his career, and he clearly had fun composing them. In a letter to a friend, he commented: “I am now writing some small bagatelles for two violins and viola—just imagine! This work gives me as much pleasure as if I were composing a great symphony.”

While introducing the final work of the evening—Gabriel Fauré’s Piano Quartet in c minor, opus 15—Edward called it “one of the great masterpieces of the Romantic period.” As he told us, the four-movement work is ripe with Germanic melodies, rich French textures, fleeting harmonies, and lively exchanges between all the players. And the stirring Adagio has to be one of the most lush movements in the repertoire.

Thanks are due to Ashley Hall—notably Head of School, Jill Muti, who actively promotes their Suzuki violin program—for hosting this spectacular group, and to Edward, Carmi, Rieko, and Yehonatan for dipping over to Charleston in the midst of their busy schedules. Their expert, exuberant playing made for one of those listening experiences that you never forget.

D’Jaris Whipper Lewis with Chamber Music Charleston

CHAMBER MUSIC CHARLESTON satisfies your musical appetite without overindulging you. Their menus are hearty, but not too filling. And the size of their courses is just right: tasty, comprehensible, and memorable.

They also consistently play with a clean, bright style, as demonstrated Saturday night at Memminger Auditorium by violinists Frances Hsieh and Jenny Weiss, cellist Tim O’Malley, violist Ben Weiss, bassoonist Sandra Nikolajevs, flutist Regina Helcher Yost, and trumpet Greg Schoonover. Joining them in a stellar performance was soprano D’Jaris Whipper Lewis whose silky voice and dramatic flair transfixed the audience.

The bistro atmosphere of these special concerts (with small tables, linen cloths, light fare, and wine) clearly appeals to classical concert lovers who look forward, not only to live music, but to mingling with friends, sipping vino, and relaxing—“chamber” music indeed.

Regina Helcher Yost and Frances Hsieh

Dave Brubeck’s “Blue Rondo a la Turk” suited the mood perfectly. The fascinating rhythms of this piece served as a nice appetizer to the evening dedicated to American music, which encompasses an amazing range of styles. In this case, upon once hearing some Turkish street musicians, Brubeck asked them where they had gotten the unusual sounds. They replied that the rhythms were to them what the blues are to Americans, and Brubeck eventually scored his “Blue Rondo a la Turk” for a jazz quartet. Jeremy Cohen, violinist with Quartet San Francisco, later transcribed it for strings, which is the version we heard. If you don’t know this work, you will enjoy its rare blend of classical, rhythm-and-blues, and jazz elements—all melded into a smooth, syncopated voice.

The life of Arthur Foote (1853–1937) spanned a lot of variety itself, considering he was born into the industrial revolution, grew up during the Civil War, and lived through the first world war. No wonder his music includes strains of romanticism, impressionism, and modernism.

We first heard his “Nocturne,” whose romantic, melancholic mood merges nicely with abstract tones and structure. Then came his “Scherzo” which is atmospheric and suggestive, not unlike the plein air painters of his day. Both works were accompanied on an overhead screen by a series of paintings from fifth graders at the Orange Grove Elementary Charter School (under the guidance of art teacher, June Allen).

painting by a fifth grader

In an innovative project, the Chamber Music Charleston musicians played these two pieces by Foote for the young students and asked them to paint their emotional response. The results were not only charming; they demonstrated the visual richness that music stirs in children. Without question, the paintings also brought the music touchingly alive for the audience.

The reverse process could be seen in the premier of the next piece, “Messages for Chamber Ensemble,” which composer Trevor Weston (a former professor of music at the College of Charleston) wrote in response to a painting by Low Country artist Jonathan Green entitled “Seeking.” The painting depicts the Gullah practice of spiritual ‘seeking’—when youngsters go into nature or the woods for days at a time to have a personal spiritual experience prior to being baptized. As the composer explained on stage, his music is meant to represent that journey of seeking—both inside oneself and in the wild.

The range of innovative sounds in this contemporary work, along with their haunting quality, certainly conveyed that the passage to personal transformation is mysterious, precarious, and never entirely resolved—although the musicians beautifully resolved the technical demands of the music.

Soprano D’Jaris Whipper Lewis

The focused tension of Trevor’s composition was followed by some comfortably familiar “Porgy and Bess” tunes, courtesy of George Gershwin, a sextet of strings and winds, and the splendiferous voice of D’Jaris Whipper Lewis. The flute (Regina Helcher Yost) and bassoon (Sandra Nikolajevs) stood in well for some of Gershwin’s sweltering lyrics, but it was Ms. Lewis who stole the show and our hearts.

Bottom line: this lady can sing. Wow. What a dulcet voice. What booming range. What control. Not to mention the genuine nature of her presence and passion. As soon as she started, the room grew quiet. The wine glasses went onto the tables. All eyes were fixed on her captivating gaze and her every note—after which the entire house, in spontaneous unison, rose with raucous applause.

What a dazzling performance, and what a finale to an evening of wonderful American music.

Chamber Music Charleston: they keep doing it right.

Learn more about Chamber Music Charleston.

Members of the 2011-12 CofC Concert Choir

NOTE TO SELF: catch this group again during Piccolo Spoleto.

After the College of Charleston Concert Choir’s exquisite sacred music concert at the Cathedral of St. Luke and St. Paul last Monday night, I asked Director-Conductor Dr. Robert Taylor: “What is it that you feel you teach your students about music, and about choral music in particular?”

He replied, “When you sing great music like this, you touch the eternal.”

In this case, “great music” included 11 works, all on the theme of the Virgin Mary, written during the last five centuries. Sung mostly a cappella in the voluminous chamber of the cathedral—where the acoustics are excellent—the music conveyed a hallowed purity that always has a purifying effect. It sweeps through you, cleansing heart and mind, leaving you vacant, transparent, and touched.

Music is a peculiar thing. It starts as something formless in the composer’s mind, gets transferred onto paper as curly little things called notes, which musicians then ‘read’ and ‘play’ as sounds that pass from their instruments into our ears, and—in the best cases—into the deepest caverns of our being where we are stirred in strange, wonderful ways.

When the instrument that serves as middleman in this process happens to be the unaccompanied human voice, the effect on and in us can be especially moving, even haunting.

It is exactly this experience I have whenever I hear Dr. Robert Taylor’s impeccably trained choirs perform his carefully chosen programs. And it’s why I like to try to get a view where I can see his face as he conducts. One brushstroke at a time, like a perfectionist painter, he applies commands onto the canvas of his singers, who comply beautifully, attentively, and intensively.

When I asked a few of the singers what it is that they primarily learn from and are taught by Dr. Taylor, their answers were consistent: “Basically, it’s about being in the moment, staying focused—which is not easy for a bunch of college students to do.” And, “Dr. Taylor is very passionate about what he does. He teaches us that we have to feel that same passion if we want to convey it to the audience when we sing.”

Indeed, in a good choir, as in a good orchestra or chamber group, each voice synchronizes with the whole and understands its relationship to—its place within—that whole. There is a constant broad awareness that breeds special care, both of which result in an auditory impact of passion and precision.

Dr. Robert Taylor

When this happens at a high level, the whole thing—singers, conductor, music—is a marvel, a masterpiece. And it’s not something you see or hear in every choir (or musical group).

Charleston: perk up your ears, open your hearts, and go listen to this extraordinary choir—which you can hear during Piccolo Spoleto at noon on Memorial Day (Mon, May 28) at the Cathedral of St. Luke and St. Paul (126 Coming Street).

Last summer, the College of Charleston Concert Choir was chosen, via a competitive audition, to be one of 12 invited choirs performing at the 2011 National Collegiate Choral Organization Convention. They were there with other prestigious programs, including the University of Southern Cal, the University of Louisville, Iowa State, and others. Other choirs that have performed on this festival include the University of North Texas, Eastman, University of Texas. They performed a 30-minute program of twentieth-century British choral music and received a fairly raucous standing ovation. Legendary choral conductors and composers such as Rodney Eichenberger (Southern Cal and Florida State), Charlene Archibeque (Santa Barbara), Kirke Mechem (wonderful composer) and William Dehning (Southern Cal) told Dr. Taylor and his singers that they were the best choir there.

Learn more about the College of Charleston Concert Choir

Thanks to Producer John Quincy for this podcast recording

Sarah Hand is an eighth grader at University School of the Lowcountry in Mount Pleasant. This year her story “Tracked” won a regional gold key award which enabled her to enter national competition where she was awarded the silver medal in the scholastic arts and writing for short story. In May she will travel to Carnegie Hall in New York to receive this prestigious award. Her writing teacher at USL is Jackie Scarafile.

I WALKED WITH SILENT STEPS along the cobblestone path through my village. My bare feet were chilled as the pebbles pressed against them. The world around me was still pitch black except for the contours of the small town the sunrise uncovered. I was returning from the forest where my brother usually caught dinner. I had to perform his track tonight. I slinked down the road in secrecy – for what I had done was illegal. I slipped my brother’s hunting knife back into the pouch bearing my name, Liera Fearon. When I approached my small home I found the windows black. They must still be asleep, I thought. Strange though, mother is usually up early waiting for me to arrive.

Swinging my old, worn, leather pouch over my shoulder, I opened the door. It creaked open, and I saw the flickering light from the fire and a broken plate against the wall. My stomach lurched. I left my satchel by the door and removed my shoes so as to not make any noise. I sneaked through the small kitchen, where the table was still embellished with our only china plates and flowers from our overgrown garden. The firelight gleamed on the condensed water still hanging onto the pitcher. I removed a chair from my path to the wooden ladder we call stairs and set it aside. As I climbed up the ever-creaking steps, I realized how loud my heartbeat was. I’m sure they are fine, I thought to myself. They probably just overslept. As soon as I thought it, I knew I was wrong.

When I reached the top, all was still. Whoever had been here was gone now. I peered around in the small room and saw nothing but small beds and a candle still glowing on the floor. I climbed back down the creaky ladder to the kitchen and sunk to the dusty floor, sobbing.

When I was younger, everything was so much easier; the governing Company wasn’t so looming in our country and my family was in harmony. Now, my brother, Jared, has had the fever for over a month, and my mother and father have been trying to nurse him back to health while still performing their tracks. I have had to perform his track to keep my family fed. That is why my family is gone. I know it. I deviated from my track and that is punishable by death. I don’t know why they didn’t just kill me. I rubbed my eyes and thought of my little sister, Reese, the beacon of light in our family. I thought of her perfect little face dotted with freckles up to her deep brown eyes and curly blond hair. She is only four years old. When she was born the Company assigned her a track as they do for every newborn baby. See, in my country, everybody follows a life track from birth until they die. If you diverge from your track, you will be violently executed. The Company doesn’t make exceptions for life’s hardships.

I looked up from my place on the grimy floor. Light was pouring into the kitchen through the blinds. I peered outside. Someone must have seen what happened, I thought. I snatched my leather pouch from the table and swung it over my shoulder as I ran outside. Suddenly I heard someone calling my name. It was Mr. Rille, the apple peddler.

“Liera!” he yelled and walked toward me. “You need to go to the Square.” He said softly, touching my shoulder.

I looked at him, terrified of what I would find. “Thank you.” I said quickly.

I took off in a panic. As I sprinted through the town, my feet kicking up dirt behind me, tears began streaming down my face. I entered the square, and everybody was crowded in the middle. No one spoke. A baby’s sobbing echoed through the stores. Everyone turned toward me with shocked faces as I broke through the crowd. I slowed to a fast walk as I approached the mob. I saw one woman burst into tears when she saw me. My steps quickened. Everyone was completely silent as I hurried through them to the strange structure in the middle. My mind wasn’t working right. I looked at everyone’s horrified faces. Everything sped up. All became a blur as I tried to get to the structure that was beginning to look more and more ominous. I finally broke through the front of the mob and stopped dead in my tracks. I crashed to my knees. My mind was in a whirl, thoughts from my past, memories of my mother stroking my hair, my father teaching me hunting lessons, my brother playing tricks on me. I finally let out an ear-piercing scream that hurt my head and scared the crows from the foliage in the trees. My mind was throbbing as I looked up at my family, each one hanging by their necks on a metal noose in the town square.

I looked at each of their faces. Mama’s face was still so sweet and nurturing even after she had been shoved off this mortal coil. Her glassy eyes stared forward, and I could tell what they still said.

“ I love you too, Mama.” I whispered to her.

I looked at my father and brother remembering all of the lessons they had taught me about being strong and brave. I regretted dissolving into the muddy ground before them, but yet I did not stand – wholly crushed by the sight before me. I looked for the next face – bound to be the worst. I could not imagine that sweet face, those chocolate brown eyes, hanging from a bloody noose. I dared myself to look. I was partially comforted and partly petrified when I saw there were no more faces left to mourn. The petrified part took over, and I dropped to all fours and let out another earsplitting bawl. What did the Company do with Reese? The question banged in my head. All I did was perform my brother’s track. I know it’s a crime! I didn’t want to starve my family! He was the one who was supposed to be the hunter in the family. And now they are all dead! With the exception of Reese, who is probably being tortured or abused at this very moment. This is all my fault, I thought, If I hadn’t gone hunting, they would have been safe. Now, because I tried to save them, they are gone.

I took one last look at my family hanging in front of me like puppets on a string. I realized that’s really all we Track people are, just puppets for the Company. They tell us what to do, and how we will live and if we break, they throw us away. There is nothing we can do about it. They completely control us. The Company can hurt us in any way they want and get away with it easily. The only difference between my family and me is that my family now has string around their necks.

Something in my mind snapped, and I decided it. No one has ever attempted to do something about the Company. Well, I’m sure they have, but never succeeded. I looked up at my family. They were so innocent and sweet, the opposite of the Company. The only thing that could stop this mayhem was to eliminate them all. I decided then that I would execute them as they had my nurturing family. My face tuned cold, all emotion fled and my lips curved into a hard frown.

The next morning I awoke in my dingy twin bed. I sat up, thinking about yesterday’s events, fighting the lingering tears in my green eyes. My blonde hair fell in front of me in large ringlets as I buried my face in my hands. My bed screeched as I rolled to my side and swung my legs off the edge. My arms were caked with dirt and dust all the way down to my fingernails – which were bitten off and grimy with soil. I gazed around the room imagining Reese’s golden head poking out from under the sheets in the bed across me and a salty tear dripped down my face.

I forcefully rubbed my eyes and tromped down the steps. When I reached the kitchen, I saw that the broken plate was still against the wall. The quiet morning was interrupted by a knock at the door. When I opened it standing there was Aden, Mr. Rille’s son. Aden was about my age, fourteen, and blacksmith tracked. He had cropped black hair and his tan skin was smudged with coal. The Company had executed his mother as well.

“Good morning, Liera.” said Aden in a quiet voice, trying to be sensitive to the recent trauma. I nodded to him, not wanting to speak, fearing my swollen throat would give out.

“I am so sorry for your loss. Julia and Daren were close friends of my dad’s.” He continued lingeringly. “My dad gave me some apple pie for you…can I come in?” I gestured toward the table inside.

“Thanks…but you really didn’t have to.” I said thinking about my plans I committed to yesterday. How I would hopefully change his life forever. We walked into the small kitchen, and he stood by the table staring at the pie.

“Alright. Now, Liera we have some planning to do.” Aden said to me. I looked at him with a puzzled look. I hope he didn’t think the Company would let us have a funeral.

“I – I’m sorry. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I said slowly, reading his eyes. They were strong and maybe a bit angry.

“Liera, I’ve been thinking. The Company… We have to do something. It has gotten out of hand!” He said strongly but still glancing around the room to see if anyone else was there to hear what he had said.

“What? The Company? Seriously?” I asked warily. He nodded. If he really wanted to do this I was not going to say no; if there is someone who feels the same, all the better.

Aden looked at me. He studied my expressions. I knew there was no hiding what I wanted.

“So, you’re in?” Aden asked me with a low, velvety voice.

“If you want to do this. We are going all out. No boundaries.” I declared with a strong voice.

“I was just about to say the same thing.” He replied.

For the next month we spent all of the time we could secretly learning more about the Company. It was surprising how much we realized we weren’t told. We found out that the head of the Company, Andrew Blumm, was staying in the Company House in the neighboring town of Quyla. We began training, in secrecy of course, to fight and kill. Soon enough I could take Aden on easily, and Aden could take on his dad. Mr. Rille, however oblivious he may have been, was a big help. After a month we were ready.

“Aden,” I said to him while he was reading The Company: Greatest Achievements, “I think… I think we’re ready. I mean, you’ve read that book like four times and I can pin your dad. We have the plan. Let’s do it,” I said catching my breath. The thought was frightening.

“I think you’re right,” he told me. “Tonight Blumm dies along with anyone who gets in our way. We can’t delay any longer.” He clenched his teeth. I nodded slowly.

That night Aden sneaked out of his small home and met me in the alley by the entrance of our village. We sneaked out of the village gates toward Quyla and Andrew Blumm.

The marble steps shone chillingly in the moonlight as we made our way up to the colossal wooden door at the top carved with the Company crest. I wasn’t quite sure why we were taking the front door, it wasn’t very furtive, but it was part of Aden’s plan. He slid open the mammoth door and let me slip inside. Aden had a map from the town library, provided that it was true. According to it, Andrew Blumm was on the other side of the building behind two oversized doors. It should be easy enough to get to him, as long as we could get past the guards. I pressed myself against the cold wall by the doors and peered around to see two guards standing absentmindedly, their backs to us. I motioned for Aden to follow me down the hall toward them. Now was our chance to practice everything we had learned. Aden wrapped his hands around one guard’s neck and began to strangle him. The guard I was supposed to take on flipped around suddenly, and I punched him in the face. I winced in pain – it hurt my knuckles like crazy. He grabbed hold of my shoulders, and I kicked him in the stomach as hard as I could. He toppled backward, and I kicked his head to knock him out. I looked over at Aden, sitting over a strangled guard, not a scratch on his face. He analyzed my work.

“Nice. Let’s go!” he said after he had taken in what we had just done.

We ran down the hallway to the next corner and peered around it to check for more guards. This time there was only one guard. I hesitated. Why haven’t they gone looking for us? Surely they know that two guards are down, I thought suspiciously. Aden looked at me, confused, waiting for a signal. I ignored the thoughts in my head and nodded to him.

The two of us overpowered the single guard with ease.

After the guard was down I looked at him. “Yeah…” I cleared my throat. “Come on. We should be close to the main office where Blumm is.”

Aden looked at me trustingly with his deep, brown eyes and I felt a twinge of affection for him. I had always liked him, but seeing him now, it was different.

“It should be around the next corner. But first — ” Suddenly he pulled me toward him and kissed me. What! I thought. No – but yes. I was confused, now was the first time I thought of him this way. Had he been thinking this the whole time? My mind was whirling. He stopped and looked into my eyes.

“Sorry.” He said looking down. “Must be hormones.”

I looked at him. “It’s fine.” I kissed him on the cheek and he lit up. “Let’s go.”

We ran down the white hall, the bright fluorescents blazing above us. True enough, when we came around the next corner there was a uniformed guard standing in front of two final doors. I pulled out my brother’s hunting knife I still had in my leather pouch and walked toward the guard.

“Step aside!” I yelled at him, and he turned around. He glanced at the knife in my hand and turned to Aden with a troubled look. I glanced at him, too.

“Is he looking at you?” I asked suspiciously.

“I have no clue.” Aden stared back at him harshly.

We moved toward the door and Aden held it open for me.  I ran in and saw a large man sitting in front of me, in a huge red chair.

“Hello, young lady. Liera is it?” the fat man said in a chilling voice, puffing out grey clouds of smoke. I looked at him with murderous eyes. He took that in. “My name is Andrew Blumm, but you already knew that. I know all about your plans to kill me to avenge your family, but I had no idea how motivated you were,” he said glancing at the knife I still held.

“You killed my family.” I spit at him, and a tear dripped down my cheek. I darted toward him.

I stopped right when I had the knife to his neck and blood was just barley trickling out.

I said in a soft whisper, “For everything you have done to my family, and this country, you must die.”

“I know.” He said chokingly. “It is time for change. Kill me and complete your track.” I pulled back a bit.

Suddenly I heard Aden’s voice. I’d forgotten he was here. “Liera, it is your track to lead the country. You are tracked to save everybody.”

I turned to Aden. “You were in on it! You just lied to me!” I ran to him and pushed him in the chest. By now my eyes were leaking tears uncontrollably.

“Let me explain!” he yelled, holding my shoulders. “You were always tracked to lead the country! Everything that has happened was tracked to happen! Killing your family, me coming over that day, the broken plate even.”

“I can’t! I can’t do this! They KILLED my family!” Then it hit me. “Where is Reese? Where is she Aden?” I yelled.

“She is here, safe. With the rest of your family.” He said quietly.

“What? My family is dead.” I was verging on insanity.

“No. They are here, alive and well. They were given a sedative to appear dead. We needed to test your passion. They are here Liera.” He said trying to calm me.

Suddenly the doors flew open and in rushed Mama, Papa, Jared, and in Mama’s arms, little Reese. I let out a gasp and tears of joy. I hugged them all, never wanting to let go.

Mama looked into my eyes, “This is your destiny. This is what you will do best. This is your proper track,” she whispered to me.

I looked at little Reese. I wanted her to go grow up free, and she would. I looked at my family lovingly then at Aden.

Finally I straightened up and said loudly,  “I’ll do it.”

As Mama turned Reese’s head, I slit Blumm’s throat.

copyright © 2012 Sarah Hand • all rights reserved

Learn more about University School of the Lowcountry

Tallying the names listed in the program, there were 102 orchestral members, the Symphony Chorus of 65, the College of Charleston Concert Choir numbering 42, plus two soloists and the conductor Daniel Hege whose ability to gather these forces into one ensemble was splendid.

A nearly full house, around 2500 people, in the waning days of Gaillard Municipal Auditorium gave a spontaneous standing ovation when the final notes of this-90 minute work sounded. The orchestra, one of the largest ever to fill the Gaillard’s orchestral shell, produced some of the most thunderous, earth- shattering sound ever heard from live musicians.

Hege demonstrated an impressive familiarity with this Mahler symphony. While the long first movement dragged at times—originally a tone poem titled Totenfeier (Funeral Rites)—the remaining four movements did not. In fact, these are some of the most melodically beautiful and exciting in all symphonic literature. The orchestra under Hege’s leadership played them with great feeling and keen insight.

Conductor Daniel Hege

Soloist mezzo Jennifer Luiken sang the fourth movement Urlicht (Primal Light) in a touching and sublime manner. Soprano Jill Terhaar Lewis’ first appearance was in the fifth and final  choral movement, joining Luiken and the massed chorus and choir so richly and exactingly prepared by Dr. Robert Taylor.

This final movement, The Apocalyptic Vision—which all that went before was leading up to—is some of the most sensational music Mahler ever composed, both terrifying and uplifting. The Resurrection is not in reference to Jesus Christ. Instead, it is a pantheistic belief  that influenced Mahler who incorporated bird calls and cow-bells to evoke nature and the countryside, bugle fanfares and military marches, street melodies and country dances remembered from his youth.

I can’t say the Charleston Symphony Orchestra sounded like today’s Berlin Philharmonic (where the symphony was premiered in 1895, the composer conducting). But for sheer effort and brilliant solo instrumental work, the Charleston orchestra communicated the Mahler vision. Mahler called for as many strings as possible, but unfortunately the 22 violins came across as way too few. Nothing a lot of money wouldn’t fix in the future.

This concert was a triumphal end to the season and hopefully a forerunner of the orchestra’s continued renewal and redevelopment. As the front of the program said, “Bravo!”

top photo by ManicStock

Chris Weatherhead as Phoebe Levy Pember

“HISTORY IS ABOUT PEOPLE,” said Faye Jensen, Director of the South Carolina Historical Society, as she prepped the Circular Congregational Church audience on Saturday for “The Road Home,” a one-act play by Actors’ Theatre of South Carolina.

The two organizations co-produced this series of tales about unique individuals on both sides of the Civil War in which some 620,000 people died—a number that “exceeds the nation’s loss in all its other wars from the American Revolution through Vietnam.” That is a heart-wrenching statistic, especially given that the Civil War was the most primitive in terms of armaments.

The material for this production was adapted from South Carolina Historical Society archives as well as other sources, and compiled by Clarence Felder, Michael Easler, and Chris Weatherhead, who also star in the play alongside Tyler Ilgen and Abigail Kamerad.

The five actors take turns depicting a total of ten different characters who “tell” their adventures during the war. It is more of an autobiographical storytelling session than stage drama, although there is some interplay to bring the stories alive.

Clarence Felder

History buffs will especially enjoy this show for its fresh revelations about, for example, Frederick Douglass, the one-time slave who became a newspaper editor, speaker, and author known for his persuasive abolitionist doctrines.

Charlestonians will also find interest in life of Phoebe Yates Levy Pember, a local native who moved to Virginia during the war to become the matron of a large Confederate hospital. Mrs. Pember, who later wrote a book about her experience, is sensitively portrayed by veteran actress Chris Weatherhead who has a natural gift for storytelling as well as acting. Her final “scene” as Phoebe at the bedside of a dying soldier is particularly touching.

Clarence Felder introduces the show on a strong note, as usual, in the guise of an editor extolling the virtues of Frederick Douglass, and then as an army colonel. Michael Easler, who accompanies the action with several songs on the guitar, tackles the famous General Beauregard and a one Dr. Holt who writes a moving letter home to his wife and family.

Michael Easler

Abigail Kamerad portrays two sisters, one of which was a “spy” disguised as a male soldier. And Tyler Ilgen rounds out the tales with touching and funny episodes from the lives of two different young men—while showing off some fancy folk dancing to boot.

Something that always stands out about this group is the zeal they show for their characters and content. Even though the lighting in the church was limited and the acoustics a bit echoic, they brought their characters to life, brought tears to our eyes, and reminded us that those four years of turmoil and bloodshed were much more than episodes in a history book—that they were “about people” just like us.

Learn more about Actors’ Theatre of South Carolina and the South Carolina Historical Society.

Chris Weatherhead

Abigail Kamerad

Tyler Ilgen