 |
| Sharon Washington. All photos by T. Charles Erickson |
Storytelling existed long before writing came on the
scene. There is, perhaps, something in our DNA that responds to the words: “Let
me tell you a story” or “Once upon a time.” Well, give you DNA a treat and get
up to Hartford Stage to see, and be enchanted by, Sharon Washington’s “Feeding
the Dragon,” a gentle yet penetrating story of a young girl who essentially
grew up in a library.
This one-woman show, written by Washington, co-produced
with Primary Stages and under the perceptive direction of Maria Mileaf, has as
its controlling image the dragon of the title, which is the coal-burning
furnace in the basement of the library where Washington lives in the top-floor
apartment with her father, who is in charge of maintenance, her mother and her
dog, Brown. When the library is closed, Washington has the library to herself
and she makes the most of it, reading fiction, non-fiction and reference works.
She is essentially an autodidact, yet she is also a little girl in an adult
world that often does not make total sense and holds surprises that will
challenge her fairy-tale existence.
Though there is only one person on the stage, the
evening is filled with characters: the father whose roots are in South Carolina
and can count change in several languages, the mother who prides herself on
being a “New Yorkah,” a grandmother who demands that Washington be “polite,”
and a host of other relatives and acquaintances, including a bartender and a
watermelon man.
Washington could probably just sit on a stool and
still mesmerize the audience, but instead she roams the set designed by Tony
Ferrieri that evokes a library but, with the three large, multi-paneled windows
upstage, allows lighting designer Ann Wrightson to work some very subtle visual
emphasis. All of this is supported by dead-on original music and sound design
by Lindsay Jones. The technical aspects of the show are as subtle and low-keyed
as the performance, but they all work together to create 90 minutes of magic.
Washington grew up in the early 70s, a troubled time
that saw riots and strikes and a sense that the world was tearing itself apart.
The library, and the books housed therein, were Washington’s shelter from much
of the strife, but an extended piece late in the show, when she and her father
travel to South Carolina to see relatives, hints at the tangled web of racism,
as does a beautiful set-piece with Washington’s uncle, an artist who lost his
leg in an accident and refused a prosthesis because it was not the right color.
Then there are the boxes hidden in the back of her mother’s closet, boxes that
contain dreams and aspirations never fulfilled – they evoke the world of “might
have been.” As Washington reveals what those boxes contain, her words and body
language transport the audience to that dark closet and what it reveals. It is
a lovely, haunting moment.
Washington makes her points softly, gently, but she
makes them. She eschews stridency and opts to create an atmosphere that draws
in all members of the audience regardless of race or gender, for her story, as
with all good stories, speaks to humanity, deals with the drams and fantasies
of the young and the rude awakenings that must come to all of us.
Late in the one-act performance I turned around from the second
row to gaze up at the audience. No one was moving, there was no fidgeting, all
had been captured by the art of Washington’s storytelling, and when the lights
came up after her final line – “I am the story” – many audience members were
wiping tears from their eyes.
Today, many theatrical productions opt to shock us
with their messages. Washington has opted to “whisper” her message, and it is
tremendously effective. She is a compelling, physically adroit actress whose
stage presence cannot help but draw in the audience. She tells what appears to
be a simple story, but if you pay attention, her story touches on what all good
stories offer: the essence of what it means to be a human being and the “quest”
that we have all experienced, that journey from child to adult containing moments
of delight merged with moments of fear and ill-defined insecurity.
“Feeding the Dragon” runs through February 4. For
tickets or more information call 860-527-5151 or go to www.hartfordtsage.org.
No comments:
Post a Comment