Josh Petersen

From a disturbing portrait of late-capitalist dystopia to an emotional debate about Facebook ethics, Plan-B Theatre’s final 2020-21 production covers a lot of ground in its one-hour runtime. The audio production series Local Color debuts new short plays from Plan-B’s Theatre Artists of Color Workshop. With Local Color you get four plays for the price of one—and that price, by the way, is whatever you want it to be. (But after a grueling year for local artists, we should all pay as generously as we can afford to.) 

The short plays work well in an audio format—as months of streaming Netflix taught us, something about at-home binging warps our attention spans. Director Jerry Rapier led each of the four casts through Zoom rehearsals and recorded the production in at-home recording studios. Taken together, the four plays touch on some similar ideas, but what stands out is the differences between each vision—and how rare it is to see these specific perspectives in Utah productions.

In Dee-Dee Darby-Duffin’s DOLs, two young girls, Adriane (Darby Mest) and Julie (Katie Jones Nall) meet at Wyman Park in 1980s Baltimore. They are strangers, but quickly bond as nerdy girls who cut class to spend more time at the library. Julie introduces Adriane to Heidi, (Yolanda Strange) a motherlike figure who is part of “Daughters of Lesbians,” a local socialist activist group. The play, based on Darby-Duffin’s own childhood, is full of lived-in details that could only come from her. Mest, who is Darby-Duffin’s daughter, is a particular highlight playing the role based on her mother. After a fairly abrupt ending, I wished there was more to listen to—the play’s single scene feels like a starting place, and there is plenty of room for this play to further explore its compelling characters.

Guise by Chris Curlett is an interesting companion to DOLs, and not just because their titles accidentally-on-purpose combine to reference a classic musical. The two plays explore the social dynamics of male and female friendships, and while “DOLs” is a lighthearted comedy, Guise considers the darker side of these relationships. Joey (Lonzo Liggins) is adjusting to life in a mostly white town, which leaves him with frequent panic attacks. In a locker room, he confronts his white friend Rick (Brian Kocherhans) about his lack of support and racial awareness. Then, a mutual friend Brett (Tyler Fox) joins in with his own locker room talk—a casually bilious mix of sexism, homophobia and racism. Because it’s still rare to see male characters talk about their feelings with this level of vulnerability, Guise feels refreshing. While Joey is the center of the play, Rick also stands out as a smart portrayal of a well-meaning white guy who isn’t always clued in to his privilege and casual racism.

My personal favorite of the four, Suicide Box depicts a near-future world that feels a lot like the present day. Tatiana Christian’s play follows Lilly (Kandyce Marie), who is barely surviving a demeaning customer service job. As Lilly deals with overly chipper coworkers and rude callers, her “tethered” (Mest) narrates her darkest thoughts with a mix of sarcasm and casual self-destruction. Meanwhile, mysterious “suicide boxes” have begun to appear everywhere—people go in, press a button and never come out. Sound Designer Cheryl Ann Cluff and Sound Engineer David Evanoff cleverly use vocal effects to differentiate between Lilly’s dialogue and inner thoughts, and I would love to see how a director would stage the play for an in-person audience. In just 11 minutes, Christian effectively builds the dystopian setting, and her critiques of American work culture are cutting and spot-on. The Black Mirror-esque scenario remains bleak until the very end, but Christian’s sharp writing and knack for dark comedy prevents the play from becoming overwhelmingly heavy.

Organic by Tito Livas dramatizes an unfortunately all too relatable phenomenon: petty social media fights. After Michael (Carlos Nobleza Posas) sees a homophic Facebook post from his former coworker Joe (Liggins), he can’t help but rage-comment. The twist: Joe is a closeted gay man who cruises sex apps for casual hookups. Michael’s husband Philip (Fox) advises against making rash judgments, but Michael’s very public takedown may have consequences none of the characters can anticipate. The conceit in Organic may be the most simple of all the plays, but if you worry that discussions of social media posts sound too dry, Livas wrings plenty of complexity from this simple scenario. The play earnestly asks what responsibilities queer people, both in and out of the closet, have to others in their community, and I finished Organic feeling sympathy for all three characters.

Local Color is a welcome and necessary platform for artists of color, counteracting the white-dominated theater community in Utah. “Over the years, a lot of times I’ll get a call because [theaters] know I’m a Black actress,” explained Darby-Duffin in an interview with Salt Lake. “We wanted to be more than that.” For both the writers and actors, this series provides a too-rare opportunity to present characters of color that go beyond supporting roles and easy stereotypes.

Local Color is streaming on Plan-B’s website through June 13. Pay-what-you-can tickets are available online. Read more stories about arts and entertainment in Utah.

As theaters across the country continue to grapple with racial equity, Plan-B Theatre is closing their season of audio dramas with Local Color, a series of short plays by POC writers. 

The four plays come from writers in Plan-B’s Theater Artists of Color Writing Workshop. The workshop was inspired by a 2017 gathering, hosted by Plan-B, for theater artists of color in Utah. Attendees hoped to build a stronger support network in a predominantly white industry, and many quickly agreed that, to make progress, artists needed to tell their own stories on stage. In the years since, the Workshop has been a launchpad for artists of color, most of whom were writing their first plays. Plan-B has debuted many of these works in table readings, educational workshops, the company’s Play at Home series and Plan-B productions. 

This year’s plays are Guise by Chris Curlett, Organic by Tito Livas, Suicide Box by Tatiana Christian and DoLs by Dee-Dee Darby-Duffin. Curlett’s play draws on his own experiences as a Black man living in Utah, addressing themes of masculinity, mental health and the personal impacts of social change. “This play is pulled from my experiences moving from Los Angeles to Utah,” Curlett explained in an interview with Catalyst. “I have lived all over the globe and have had tough environments to acclimate to. This was, by far, the most difficult.” Organic, described as a “dark comedy about love, perception, and Grindr,” is also semi-autobiographical, centered on a gay, interracial married couple and a closeted gay man in denial of his sexuality. And Suicide Box is a dark comedy that, as the title suggests, takes the unique hell of customer service to its logical, mental-health-crushing extremes.

Like the other playwrights in Local Color, Darby-Duffin drew on her own experiences to write her first play. DoLs, (it stands for daughters of lesbains,) was inspired by a formative period of Darby-Duffin’s youth in Baltimore. Playing hooky in the park, she stumbled upon Julie, another self-described nerd who would rather skip class to explore libraries than hang out and smoke. Through Julie, she became involved in the DoL community group, even though neither Darby-Duffin nor her family identified as gay. 

Julie and Darby-Duffin’s friendship was relatively short-lived—they lost touch after a few months, though Darby-Duffin has since tried to find her on Facebook—but the connection they shared was meaningful. A natural storyteller, Darby-Duffin naturally drew on her childhood for inspiration—and she realized that nobody else would tell her story. At the initial Theater Artists of Color gathering, the group discussed  the limitations they felt in the Utah theater community. “I thought, ‘Who the hell is going to write, specifically, my story that is centered around a black girl?’’’ she says. “Oh, I guess I have to write my own story.”

For Darby-Duffin, the personal connection goes even further: her daughter, Darby Mest, is playing the character based on herself. Though the play has inspired the pair to revisit family history, Darby-Duffin says she’s purposefully avoided influencing her daughter’s performance. “I’ve gotten to listen in on a couple of audio performances, and I smile every time … You know when movies do flashbacks? It’s kind of like that.”

Darby-Duffin has worked for years as a singer, actor and director, but writing an original play was a totally new experience. She admits that making the leap from acting and interpreting the words of others to writing original work was daunting. “It’s extremely vulnerable,” she says. For inspiration, she turned to Curlett. The pair met and shared ideas, guiding each other through the hiccups and jitters of first-time playwriting. Darby-Duffin’s experience as a performer helped her imagine the play. “I could pull in all the pieces of me as a performer, as an actor, as a singer, and I could totally see it.”

Darby-Duffin says she hopes to continue playwriting, including scripts that cover subject matter outside of her own experience. “I was initially a little hesitant at calling myself a playwright,” she explains. Now, awaiting DoLs’ official debut, that trepidation is gone. “Even if [DoLs is] the only one, I consider myself a playwright…I’m gonna claim that it’s mine. I did the work. And nobody can take that from me.”

Local Color is an audio production that will stream on Plan-B’s website from June 3-13. Tickets are pay-what-you-can. Keep up with the latest news on Utah arts and entertainment.

SLC: It’s time to get crafty. After holding an entirely virtual event last year, Craft Lake City is back to its normal self for their 13th annual festival this August. 

The Festival is yet another trademark summer event that is returning after a year of COVID-mandated interruptions. Craft Lake City is important not only to the many visitors but to the artisans who rely on the festival to gain fans and sell products. “Utah is home to an incredible creative community and the DIY Festival at the Utah State Fairpark makes it possible for Craft Lake City to showcase the distinct talent of local makers,” says Shelbey Lang, Craft Lake City Artisan and Programs Manager. After 2020, more people are committed to buying local and supporting small businesses that struggled to survive through the pandemic. “Craft Lake City is excited to celebrate thirteen years of the DIY Festival with the local creative community,” says Angela H. Brown, Executive Director of Craft Lake City. 

The all-local festival is, as the name suggests, a craft fair, but it also encompasses foodies, artists, artisans, live performers—basically any local business doing cool shit in Utah. The DIY umbrella is large enough that you can take home a Japanese crepe cakes, NSFW embroidery and some queer-themed T-shirts in a single afternoon. Two stages will feature live performances from Utah musicians including Angie Petty, Bri Ray and Nicole Canaan and local dance groups representing a globe’s worth of dance styles from flamenco to pow wow dances. Plus there’s the food—so much food. Along with artisan food makers, food trucks include local favorites like Cupbop and Lucky Slice and more than 20 other options for meals, snacks and treats. The Festival’s DIY ethos even includes engineers bringing STEM projects like robotics and VR. It’s this eclectic, something-for-everyone spirit and community focus that has made Craft Lake City a favorite for more than a decade.

This year, the festival is launching Craft Lake City Academy, a new education and mentorship program for artisans starting or growing their business. Taught by local mentors, Classes start tomorrow. The training aims to expand opportunities for small businesses in Utah while building a support network for creators. Training sessions begin tomorrow, May 27.

Today, Craft Lake City announced their headlining performer will be Ritt Momney. The solo project of Jack Rutter, Ritt Momney is best-known for a cover of Corrine Bailey Rae’s “Put Your Records On,” which became a Top 40 hit last year after going viral on TikTok. The indie-pop musician is currently working on a new album. VIP and general admission tickets are available tomorrow morning.

Craft Lake City will be held from Aug. 13-15 at the Utah State Fairpark. For more information on vendors, volunteering and donations, visit their website. Subscribe to our print issue for more arts stories.

If months stuck at home inspired you to start rambling conversations with your pets, Alabaster, Salt Lake Acting Company’s newest play, might be uncomfortably relatable. What might be less familiar is that in this case, the animals talk back.

Alabaster, written by Audrey Cefaly, follows New York photographer Alice (Reanne Acasio,)  who has paused her normal work of taking celebrity portraits to complete her passion project: photographing women with physical scars. One of her subjects is June (Charlotte Munson,) who was left with scars across her back after a violent storm killed her family.  June copes by talking with her two goats: a kid Weezy, (Tamiyka White) who responds, and mother Bib, (Catherine Doherty) who doesn’t. (The goats, both anthropomorphized and not, are played by human actors using a mix of English and bleat.) As Alice photographs June in her home, the two women form an uncertain connection that forces them both to question their roles as artists and confront both of their traumatic pasts. 

The production of Alabaster reflects both the challenges and opportunities of making art during the pandemic. SLAC hired Utah-based technicians to work behind-the-scenes, employing local working artists as many creatives still struggle to find work. Director Martine Kei Green-Rogers, meanwhile, led the cast from New York, while the actors performed virtually from across the country. Each cast member was sent materials to construct their own sets, costumes, props and lighting equipment at home, essentially creating four miniature black boxes filmed at four different locations. 

The performance is pre-filmed and edited by Kenny Riches. The format manages to maintain some live-theater intimacy and avoids the dreaded technical difficulties that have plagued pretty much every Zoom gathering since March, from awards shows to international climate summits. Of course, some of the immediacy of an in-person performance is lost, but there are some unexpected advantages to this approach.. Watching actors up-close and personal, often staring right at the camera, forges an intimate connection that’s not possible to experience from the back of a theater. 

Riches smoothly shows each of the four cast members interacting and quietly reacting—in one funny early scene, Weezy (that’s the talking goat) becomes an audience member herself, heckling and eating popcorn. At other moments, the screen focuses on just one or two actors, guiding the audience to focus on their perspective. This play, which takes place entirely in one cramped farmhouse, feels like a particularly appropriate choice for performers confined to small spaces of their own.

Though Cefaly’s script tackles difficult subject matter, the dialogue has enough humor, lived-in details and surreal touches to avoid feeling too heavy. (The talking goats help.) The actors have an extra burden to create chemistry with a cast they aren’t sharing a physical space with, but the performances are natural and compelling. Munson and White are both having a lot of fun, and their exasperated back-and-forth is human enough to make you temporarily forget that one of the characters isn’t. (Makeup artist Kelly Donahue does portray June’s many scars, but there is no animal makeup for either of the goats.) Munson’s central monologue describing the traumatic storm that physically and emotionally scarred her is a highlight of the play, and Acasio balances her with a quieter but equally moving performance Both of these women connect through their creativity, using painting and photography to portray and overcome pain. The story’s focus on creating art through trauma resonates especially in 2021, and the production’s resourceful origin story proves that SLAC too is capable of creating moving work even in difficult circumstances. 

Alabaster is streaming on SLAC’s website through May 30. For more information, click here. Read about Salt Lake Acting Company’s campaign to make their theater more accessible here.

Last week, Salt Lake Acting Company launched The Amberlee Fund: Accessibility Elevated, a $1 million capital campaign to completely redesign their theater to make the space more accessible. Fans of SLAC know that the acting company’s one-of-a-kind venue is part of the experience. Located in a 130-year old meeting house for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, the physical space told a uniquely Utah story: a religious gathering space in the 19th century became an artistic one in the 20th and 21st. (It helps that the boundary-pushing, edgy plays SLAC tends to produce are about as far from church Christmas pageants as you could possibly imagine.)

This historical building, however, is far from accessible to all visitors. Jason Wheeler, Executive Director of Assist Community Design Center, explained that the building was designed far before legally enforced accessibility codes. In fact, the split-level design with narrow, steep staircases were uniquely challenging for those with disabilities. 

SLAC’s campaign is named after Amberlee Hatton-Ward, who was a regular attendee of SLAC’s yearly children’s productions. Amberlee loved attending the theater, but carrying Amberlee and her equipment up the staircase was arduous—Shauna Rasmussen Hatton-Ward enlisted several people to help her daughter attend the show. For the family, bringing Amberlee to SLAC was an annual holiday tradition. They invited Amberlee’s friends to join them and camped out in the green room with hot cocoa for the kids and champagne for the adults. “Attending SLAC’s children’s productions was an experience that made Amberlee laugh out loud and she was always so loved by theater staff, stage crew, and actors … The stage and performances captivated us and let us forget for just a moment, the difficulties of life,” Shauna said in a tribute to her daughter.

After Amberlee passed away in 2019, Shauna hoped to continue Amberlee’s legacy and love of theater. Shauna, along with the leadership at SLAC, recognized that accessibility was the biggest barrier to this mission. So Shauna, along with Capital Campaign Committee Co-Chair Dale Smith, led the initiative to address the building’s barriers. Cynthia Fleming, the Artistic Director of SLAC, called the theater company “a beacon for so many in our community who don’t feel included.” She said that prioritizing accessibility was a way for SLAC to expand that inclusion. She hopes that Amberlee’s “kick-ass spirit and acceptance for all human beings” shines through the project. 

At many theaters across Utah and the U.S., COVID-19 has forced companies to halt normal production schedules, allowing for a rare pause and chance for reflection. For SLAC—which has not welcomed in-person audiences for more than a year—the planning and execution of the renovations was made possible by this interruption. “Because we have shows running year-round, undertaking such a project prior to the pandemic would have required us to temporarily present our productions elsewhere,” Fleming explained in a press release. “So in a strange way, this past year’s forced pause in producing live theater—plus the vital support of the Linda and Don Price Fund as well as the legacy of Amberlee—is allowing us to build back and build better.”

Assist Community Design Center will be completely remodeling both the main theater and the dressing rooms, which are in an old Relief Society meeting house adjacent to the main building. The renovations include a wheelchair-accessible elevator from the lobby to the theater and accessible dressing rooms and bathrooms, including an adult changing table. The campaign will also repair earthquake damage and improve infiltration systems throughout the building. (Thanks 2020.)  Designers Lauren Bald and Brea Valenzuela of cityhomeCOLLECTIVE will be refreshing the theater’s interior design with fresh, modern decor. (Bald said she wanted to add “an element of naughty” to complement SLAC’s vibrant, playful approach to theater.)

Audience Relationship and Accessibility Coordinator Natalie Keezer explained that accessibility will be a key consideration all of SLAC’s work. The company will continue to use ASL interpreters for live performances and will include closed-captioning, audio descriptions and sensory sensitivity warnings in digital productions. They will also use screen readers, accessible language and image descriptions on their social media pages, marketing materials and updated website. 

As of April 28, the capital campaign has already raised $775,000. You can make a donation to the Amberlee Fund online or by calling 801-363-7522. The updates are scheduled to finish this summer, in time for SLAC’s 50th season.

SLAC will be continuing their 2020-21 season with Audrey Cefaly’s Alabaster, which will stream digitally. Director Martine Kei Green-Rogers and the creative team wanted to capture the spirit of live performance, though the production was directed and filmed virtually. Costumes, props, sets, lighting equipment and even a makeup artist were sent to actors’ homes, bridging the gap between film and theater. The play centers on June, an artist in a small Alabama town who is still recovering from a tornado that killed her family, Alice, a photographer who meets June while recovering from her own trauma, and two taking goats, Weezy and Bib. “SLAC is not only embracing those challenges but using them as an opportunity to push the boundaries of digital theater in this tailor-made-for-film production,” said Cefaly in a press release. The production will be streaming on-demand from May 10-30. For tickets and more information, visit SLAC’s website. 

While you’re here, check out our latest print issue.

A word of advice to anyone preparing for post-vaccination, “real-world” social interaction again: practice your dinner party small talk. I learned this the hard way last week at a small, intimate dinner at CytyByrd, a cafe inside the Salt Lake City and County Building. It had been a long time since most of us mingled with strangers, and a lot of us didn’t quite know what to do with ourselves less than six feet apart. (Well, at least I didn’t.)

Some of the guests were having less of a hard time, probably because they had character sheets and scripts to work with. This party was part of SONDERimmersive’s new experiential dinner theater performance The Lost Generation, which transports guests back to the early 1940s. I didn’t even make it to the bar before sitting down for an impromptu interview with war correspondent Martha Gellhorn. Before the show starts, you can strike up a conversation with a lively, man-bunned and probably already tipsy Ernest Hemingway. And if you happen to take a bathroom break before food is served—and you definitely should—you’ll see a longsuffering fisherman battling, in violent pantomime, some sort of enormous sea creature.

The story combines a pared-down interpretation of The Old Man and the Sea with a portrayal of the volatile relationship between Ernest Hemingway (Tyler Fox) and trailblazing journalist Martah Gellhorn (Catherine Mortimer). In a Cuban seaside village, the old man (Kevin Giddins) has gone for weeks without catching a fish. This string of bad luck changes when he catches an enormous marlin (Amber Golden), but the protracted battle between the fisherman and the fish tests both of their physical limits. Meanwhile, Ernest, who is writing his novel in Cuba, begins a passionate love affair with Martha. Martha’s ahead-of-her time commitment to her career soon angers Ernest, who is deep in writerly loneliness as she travels abroad.

In The Lost Generation, Cytybyrd doubles as a restaurant and a theater set, and chef Liberty Valentine designed the space herself. The eclectic vintage decor, including an eye-catching wall of mirrors, captures the play’s mood before the performance even starts. The four-course dinner was Cuban-inspired, with an appetizer of rice, beans and plantains and tasty corn on the cob served in a boat-shaped dish. The main course was—what else—red snapper. (If you’re already feeling guilty for eating meat, it probably won’t help that a real-life actor was playing your dinner moments before.) Even without a show to watch the restaurant is a great place to hang out, and Valentine plans to reopen this summer as a casual bar and mingling space rather than a traditional dining room.

I won’t spoil the details of the performance, because discovering the playful, surprising ways the company tells this story is a big part of the fun. Fox, Mortimer and Rick Curtiss co-wrote the script with director Graham Brown, but the production is focused more on physical expression than dialogue. I sat across from a woman who is a SONDERimmersive regular, and she wondered aloud if the company’s unbound style would translate to a more formal space. (Their most recent production, Through Yonder Window, was staged in a parking garage.) She was certainly not disappointed—none of the actors could be accused of holding back. 

No theater company in Utah right now thinks about space and movement in quite the same way as SONDERimmersive, and it’s exciting to see how the company continually expands the boundaries of theater. The Lost Generation asks a lot from the cast: each performance is a physically demanding mix of acting, improv, modern dance and even food service. The actors were not only up to the challenge; they seemed to relish surprising the audience and trying something new. SONDERimmersive’s experiential, immersive approach to theater creates an unusual intimacy—you talk with actors in character, watch them from your dinner table and chat with them over dessert after the show is over. 

For now, the event is designed for single-party reservations of people in the same family or “bubble.” As for our group, the initial awkwardness didn’t last—especially because we were excited to actually be in a theater (or a cafe, or a beach in Cuba) again. 

Learn more about SONDERimmersive or book a private performance of The Lost Generation on their website. Read more arts and entertainment stories here.

Art & Class, the latest production in Plan-B Theatre’s entirely virtual season, is based on the kind of news story that makes a lot of us shake our heads and scream “not all Utahns!” In 2017, an elementary school teacher in Hyrum shared artwork with his sixth grade class that contained nudity. (You know, like pretty much any art museum on Earth.) The teacher was accused of being a child pornographer, the police were called, and he was fired faster than you can declare porn a public health crisis. 

The incident made national headlines, but playwright Matthew Ivan Bennett imagined more to the story than the outrage cycles of social media and short attention spans that online news allows. His play changes some of the real-life details and invents some others, but the basic facts are the same. When art teacher Lucia (Flo Bravo) meets with the principal, her friend Leland (Roger Dunbar), she expects to make small talk and commiserate over school supplies budgets. Instead, he tells her that parents are complaining about artworks, like The Brunette Odalisque and An Allegory of Venus & Cupid, the students were given at the school library. Lucia intensely defends herself and eventually confronts Mindy (Stephanie Howell, bringing her finest Karen energy,) the offended parent. After Mindy retaliates with a public Facebook post attacking Lucia, Lucia is at risk of losing her job, straining the already tense relationship with her husband Riley (Bijan Hosseini). 

The story is a depressingly perfect microcosm of the kind of culture wars that have taken over national politics while examining a wide range of Utah-specific social debates around race, gender, immigration, sex, addiction and, of course, religion. Bennett’s writing is filled with the kind of local detail that only a playwright from Utah would understand. He understands how seriously the characters take these issues, and Art & Class isn’t afraid to show the uglier parts of Utah culture. At the same time, Bennett isn’t interested in making snap judgments about any of his characters. Mindy, who on paper is the most stereotypical of the characters, becomes more complex throughout the play, and though Bennett clearly sympathizes with Lucia, she is allowed to make real mistakes too.    

Writing for a Latina character, Bennett consulted the different actors who played Lucia at several readings to develop the character’s point-of-view. I definitely don’t have the authority to say whether the characterization is authentic or not, but Bravo capably anchors the play. Dunbar gives another standout performance. Though the play has several important scenes about Lucia and Riley’s marriage, the relationship between Lucia and Leland is far more interesting than the relationship between Lucia and Riley. Their relationship has a strange intimacy—Leland is one of the few people in town Lucia can connect with, and they exist in some gray area between colleagues, friends and mentors. They are both bad at boundaries, too smart for their own good and consider themselves outsiders. (Though Leland has plenty of privilege that Lucia simply can’t access, which the play smartly acknowledges.) Their ongoing debate, and their inevitable falling out, stings the most for listeners because both characters are so clearly conflicted about the difficult choices they have to make.

This dialogue-heavy play works well as an audio drama, with strong direction by Plan-B’s Artistic Director Jerry Rapier. Still, I wished I could see how the play would look on an actual stage with actors that have more tools to use than just their voices. Let’s hope we can all be back together in a theater soon.

Art & Class is streaming online through April 25. For tickets and info, visit Plan-B’s website. Read more arts stories here.