Best of 2011-2012: The Amen Corner

Editorial
It’s not usually a good thing when I attend a play and start to examine the set or look at the colors of the light gels. It usually means that the story and the actors have not succeeded in keeping me engrossed in the production. Sometimes, however, the set is another character in the play, and it seems appropriate to study it in the same ways you may notice how an actor moves. Such was the case when I attended the Penumbra Theatre's The Amen Corner at the Guthrie Theater last season. It is a trademark of Lou Bellamy and Penumbra that their sets reflect the gritty realism of the raw, natural acting style you see onstage. My rush line seat placed me in the front row where it was easy to see the details of the neighborhood surrounding the church and apartment. Quack grass grew out of the cracks of set designer Vicki Smith’s sidewalks. The building facades were soot covered, as though echoing the tired, worn-out characters in the play. The dirty window shades suggested a lack of caring in these people’s lives. It was a stark contrast to the immaculate white costume of Sister Margaret Alexander (realized onstage brilliantly by Greta Oglesby). The congregation of the Harlem church were always dressed to impress. These people have control over this part of their world. However, the disintegrating buildings around them (most likely owned by absentee landlords) reflect a different status of their lives. The characters’ physical facades are flawless but their interior lives are crumbling just like the physical world around them. While it may be true that we should be able to do a play with just a table and chairs, as a director who works largely in community theaters, I notice the small things. The set can enhance a play or become a distraction. In our community theaters, haven't we all gone to a show where we can see paint splotches from the walls all over the floor? Did no one bother to tape before painting or retouch afterwards? Yet, it’s not just in community theater where you see this lack of caring. I saw Dirty Rotten Scoundrels at the Minneapolis Musical Theater a year ago. The show was very good. But because the seats sloped down toward the stage, I could see the paint from the walls smeared all over the floor. So, for me, the entire production took on a shabby visual look. My husband noticed no such flaws, so I do realize it makes me a little bit of a freak to observe such details. However, I have worked with community set designers who walk around the afternoon before opening and touch up the marks and dings a set endures from use and that same person comes back before the second weekend and touches things up once again. It doesn’t take long to do something like that and it ensures that your production values will reflect the quality of the work to which the actors aspire. I encourage set designers, builders and artists to really think about what your set says about your theater and the play. Even simple can be done either shabbily or perfect. An example of simple excellence was a Ten Thousand Things’ production of Doubt. Ten Thousand Things must design sets that are easy to pack up and move to different locations. Each bench, desk, and arched entryway was constructed to be easily moved but was still perfect in each curve and angle. It reflected the caring and professionalism of the company. Complex or simple, a set says a lot about how much you care. Excellence is in the details. Just as the carefully crafted set for The Amen Corner, reflected Penumbra’s professional attitude toward its work, your attention to detail in your theater—whether you work in community theater most of the time, like I do, or professionally—will tell your audience that they are attending a production of high quality. I recommend that you take the time for the little things. (I saw a student-directed production of The Gingerbread Lady at a local college last spring. Neil Simon’s play is set in the 1960’s in New York City. Sitting on the stage as a prop was a Summit beer bottle. This told me before we even started that this production had been put together hastily with no eye to detail. I was not the only one who noticed. People sitting around me were commenting sarcastically that they didn’t know Summit beer started out in NYC in the 60’s.) Want to elevate your game? Keep your eye on the little things. They do matter.
Julianna Skluzacek
Julianna Skluzacek is the founder and artistic director of the Merlin Players, a semiprofessional theater company performing at the Paradise Center for the Arts. She has directed over 70 plays throughout southern Minnesota and the metro. Skluzacek is also in her third year as president of the Minnesota Association of Community Theatres.