Poe and the Halloween Tradition

Today I want to talk to you about a historic and time-honored Halloween tradition. Something that everyone above a certain age associates with Halloween and Halloween parties. Something you’ll see in many, many Halloween movies. Something that our dear friend Edgar Allan Poe was very familiar with, which he wrote about on more than one occasion. Something that, for many of us, life Halloween would feel incomplete without. I am speaking, of course, of alcohol. So on this spookiest of days, me and this adorable bottle of absinthe I found at the liquor store last week want to share some thoughts about drinking, Poe, our newly adapted Poe piece “A Midnight Dreary”, our upcoming Durham performance thereof, and the way in which those things might be related.

absinthe

Look how little and cute it is!

As I alluded to when last we spoke, Poe had an unfortunate relationship with alcohol. He was unable to control himself in its presence and so he endeavored to teetotal. Unfortunately, the culture of the time regularly found him attending social gatherings where drinking would be expected and he fell from the wagon more than once. While attending these events Poe had a tendency to drink to excess and make a fool of himself, an attribute that he and I share. I can fortunately say that my propensity for blacking out over-imbibing at parties has not seriously damaged my life or prospects, but Mr. Poe cannot say the same, as his drinking problem cost him at least two jobs and twice as many friendships. It is to his credit that he, unlike me (and, hopefully, you), hated the habit and its effect on him and routinely attempted to abstain and distance himself from alcohol, an effort which is no less noble for it having been unsuccessful. I have every confidence that my fine readers can hold their liquor better than poor Edgar, however, and as our upcoming performances are thematically paired with a variety of wines, I encourage you to put the thought of Poe drinking himself to death on the cold autumn streets of Baltimore out of your minds. Contemplate instead how delicious these wines sound, and how appropriately they have been matched by We Happy Few’s Bartender-in-Residence Kerry McGee.

masque-of-red-death-extraordinary-tales

From Extraordinary Tales, 2013. Directed by Raul Garcia.

First on the docket is The Masque of the Red Death, which is, appropriately for a party, matched with a sparking wine. But not just any sparkling wine. This is a SPECIAL party, to celebrate the end of the world, so ordinary champagne or prosecco would never do (also, there’s nothing scary about champagne, unless you’re exceptionally prone to hangovers). This is an almond-flavored sparkling wine, to give it that extra special decadence, that rich little kick of marzipan. But marzipan isn’t the only thing you can make out of almonds, is it? The more morbid of my readers will recall that the taste or smell of bitter almonds is a telltale sign of cyanide, a popular poison you might recognize as the one that brought down Jonestown but failed to kill famed Russian necromancer Rasputin. While the titular Red Death did not manifest as poison in the wine, but rather as a plague on the countryside, we felt the surprise of the almond flavor in the wine makes a fitting match to the uninvited guest who gate-crashes Prince Prospero’s party.

Next up is The Cask of Amontillado. I will give you three guesses as to what wine we chose for this story.

whats-the-word

That’s right. T-Bird.

Nah, we went with the obvious for this one. Amontillado is a Spanish sherry with a sweet nose that does not exactly translate to the taste, which is much drier than you might expect. The variance between the scent and flavor means that this drink comes with an unexpected surprise, just as the sparking wine did. Similar to the sort of surprise you might encounter if a dear friend had told you about a cask of sherry he had purchased and wanted you to verify the quality of, but then instead he got you drunk and walled you up in his basement. Above all I would say Amontillado tastes like revenge, and much like revenge it is best served cold.

For The Tell-Tale Heart we decided to keep up the bait-and-switch flavor profile we used for the other stories, though the third drink is better known and therefore the twist is less surprising than the others. Our wine of choice for this story is Velvet Moon Cabernet Sauvignon from Trader Joe’s, the #1 store for the wino on a budget. [Trader Joe’s sponsor us please! -KH] Velvet Moon, in the nature of Cab Sauvs everywhere, is fruity and full bodied with a hefty dose of tannins. It has the rich color of arterial blood, the full profile of a satisfied obsession, and the bitterness of regret. That is not to say that you will be left unsatisfied by either the drink or the story, merely that the way something starts is seldom the way that it ends. Sometimes your wine turns bitter on your palate, and sometimes the motiveless murder of a dear friend because he had cataracts results in you shrieking your guilt to the police in an effort to expiate yourself and silence the ceaseless pounding of his impossibly-still-beating heart.

tell-tale-heart-fores

The Tell-Tale Heart, by David G. Fores.

If these wines sound interesting to you, especially in connection with these chilling stories, brought to the stage by Raven Bonniwell, Kerry McGee, and Jon Reynolds under the direction of Bridget Grace Sheaff, then please join us for “A Midnight Dreary”, to be performed at Spectre Arts in Durham, North Carolina the evenings of November 11th and 12th. For my thousands of readers in the Raleigh-Durham area this should be an easy trip. For those in the greater DC metro area it is a scant four hour drive, and for those of you in the rest of the country and world, I say to you a journey of ten thousand miles would be a small price to pay to see a show of this caliber. If that travel seems a little much for you, however, then fear not! Lord willing and the creek don’t rise, we will have additional performances of this show in January, here in our nation’s capital. Keep an eye on this space and our website and twitter for additional details as they develop. Honestly it would probably be better to just come down to North Carolina on the 11th or 12th, though.

Until next time, I hope you all have a spooky and responsible-drinking good time tonight. Keep your cell phones charged, be sure to check the back seat for killers, and whatever you do, don’t split up.

Keith Hock

Living Room Reads, a new series brought to you exclusively by WHF!

[Editor’s Note: Regular readers may notice some differences in the writing of this post.  It may seem less arch, less mean, more endearing and warm and positive. That is because a lot of it, and just about 100% of the good parts, were not written by me, Production Manager Keith Hock, but by Assistant Producer Bridget Grace Sheaff, whose spirit we have not crushed yet and who still has some joy in her soul. She has made a terrible, TERRIBLE error by allowing me to discover how good of a writer she is, and I would not be surprised if you saw more of her voice on this blog as I increasingly attempt to shirk my responsibilities and saddle her with writing duties.]

Hello again, fanatical followers of our tremendously popular blog.  I promised I would bring you another post soon, last time, and here one is, right on (intentionally nebulous) schedule.  “What could you have done so soon after your last impeccably-written blog post that would warrant another entry so soon?” you clamor. “You only write about things that you are doing and you haven’t staged anything else or done anything of public note this whole month!” you cry, a trifle judgmentally. “What could the subject of this blog post possibly be?” you shriek to the heavens in terrified confusion.

What we did, long-suffering readers and my only greatest friends in the whole wide world, was gather together a bunch of people, drink some wine, and read a play to each other, because when you work in theatre you have a different definition of the word “fun” than normals have. You see, it may come as a surprise to you, coming from your favorite producers of confusing classical theatre, but We Happy Few is staffed entirely by nerds. You heard me. We embrace it. We welcome it into our lives with a warm smile and a glass of red wine (though we wouldn’t say no to something stronger!) So, when we tell you that we spent our Saturday night sitting around a living room reading Caryl Churchill’s Dream Play out loud, we won’t be offended when you call us nerds, slap the books out of our hands, or push us into some lockers.

Revenge of the Nerds Gif

From “Revenge of the Nerds”, 1984.  Pictured: Ted McGinley and Donald Gibb.

 

If you’ve paid attention to the way we frame this blog in the past, Constant Readers, you should expect that next I would put some words in your mouth purporting to be some questions you have about something I just said, to spare me from having to learn to write actual segues and give me an easy opportunity to introduce our topics.  And who am I to argue with success.  Your questions about what I just said are as follows:

  1. We Happy Few doing Churchill? Don’t they do Shakespeare?
  2. Churchill’s Dream Play? Why not the original Strindberg?
  3. Couldn’t you all just read it in your free time? Why the public gathering?
  4. What does this mean about your next project?
  5. How many roads must a man walk down before they call him a man?

I am confident we can conjure up an answer for about 80% of these questions.  That last one, my friends, is blowing in the wind.

This first question was a little bit of a straw man on your part, seeing as we did an adaptation of a Poe story last month, and a Webster play in 2014, but we can dig into it anyway! Let’s start by defining and operationalizing a few things here. We Happy Few works with classic texts in a stripped down, straightforward, no-nonsense/all-nonsense sort of way. We all know this. What is a little more fluid is the definition of what we consider “Classic.” There is a lot to unpack in that word. We by no means are the experts on what constitutes a “Classic”; after all, this is a vague enough term that any story might fit inside this definition with some fairly flimsy justification. When we start identifying works outside their structural genre, the world gets a little trickier. What’s the difference between an adaptation and a new work? Where is the line between translator and playwright? Defining plays under these umbrellas helps us pinpoint a means to our end, but doesn’t always help us with semantics. When We Happy Few thinks of “Classics,” our eyes are drawn to stories that are told and retold in new ways by many different artists.

 

Enter Dream Play.

CUA Dream Play

From CUA’s 2013 production of Dream Play.  L-R: Natasha Gallop, Kiernan McGowan, Kimberlee Wolfson, Samantha Smedley, Claire Aniela, Joseph Weber, Seth Rosenke

Strindberg wrote Dream Play just after the turn of the twentieth century. (For those of you that like math, that’s 114 years ago. For those of you who don’t like math, it was way before you were born.) Churchill’s adaptation was brought to the London stage in 2005. And betwixt and between those two dates, a number of very famous adaptations popped up and gained widespread popularity.

Why do we keep coming back to Dream Play? Could it be (perish the thought!) a Classic?

 

We Happy Few thinks so.

 

Familiar enough with the basic premise of the play, and leaning somewhat on the experience of former WHF sound designer Bob Pike and …this memo says I have to say Senior Executive Producer, Actor Extraordinary & Plenipotentiary, The Right Honorable Kiernan McGowan when they staged it at Catholic in 2013, we turned to Caryl Churchill’s version as a study of adaptation and revitalizing a standard for a modern audience. We got to ask the play some questions and it asked some back. (Yeah, the play talks to us… why, is that weird?) Reading it as a group allowed us to experience the play in the same time and space. Plays aren’t meant to sit on the page, we all know that. But we take for granted that very obvious essence of a play sometimes and forget that the play moves with us, lives with us, confronts us, pushes us away, and pulls us back in. It’s a verb. Theatre is just verbs. “Play.” “Act.” “Watch.” “Perform.” “Design.” “Write.” “Fall down in exhaustion after a 12 hour technical rehearsal.” You get the picture.

And so with several bottles of red wine, pizza, a few good friends, a few great friends (which is which? Fight amongst yourselves) and the words of Caryl Churchill, We Happy Few got to throw all of our ingredients into a pot and see what kind of stone soup we came up with. Reading the play led us to talking about our mission, long term goals, the heart of the play, the nature of devising, and even the lighter, humorous side of this dense, cerebral play.

WHF Dream Play Living Room Read

Living Room Read of Dream Play at We Happy House, 2015. L-R Tori Boutin, Bob Pike, Raven Bonniwell, Kerry McGee, Keith Hock, Adaire Brooks, Kiernan McGowan. Not pictured: Nathan Bennett, Che Wernsman, Bridget Grace Sheaff

 

What comes next?

 

That’s a really great question, blog.

For that, you’re just going to have to keep your eyes out, aren’t you? Big stuff is coming your way, world. Our little band of brothers has not yet begun to fight.

Needless to say, We Happy Few is going to keep digging into the beauty of plays like Dream Play to find what our audience needs to hear in this increasingly confusing time. As we move forward, we keep one foot firmly planted in our past, strengthening ourselves from those who came before us. And if Churchill’s fragmented, non-linear, metaphoric play can provide us with any answers, then bring on the dream dictionaries.

“What’s poetry? It’s not real but maybe it’s more than real. It’s dreaming while you’re awake.”

CARYL CHURCHILL, A Dream Play