Blood/Sugar
Reviewed by Lara J. Altunian
Plain Wood Productions
Closed
RECOMMENDED
“Diabetes may no longer be a death sentence, but it is a life sentence.”
Diana Wyenn’s descriptions of the autoimmune disease she has been battling for 15 years are haunting. Diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes when she was 20 years old, her journey has been wracked with difficulties, controversy, and at times desperation—all of which she portrays creatively and informatively in her one-woman show. Combining her dance background with her husband LABAN’s video direction skills, Blood/Sugar, co-written by Guy Zimmerman, is a fascinating mixed media approach to raising awareness about the disease.
The play begins with Wyenn recalling the first time she experienced a sugar binge, while studying abroad in England. A frightening whirlwind of confusion mixed with an animalistic need to consume sugar as quickly as possible, the episode leaves her scared and forlorn. However, she still takes another two months to see a doctor. Meanwhile, she ignores her body’s ensuing warnings of pancreatic malfunction—an incredible thirst for water and emaciation despite a continuous intake of sweets. She finally seeks help when a total lack of strength leaves her unable to continue with her Royal Ballet dance classes. Like with every diabetic, the news changes her life. After receiving her diagnosis, she begins a daily balancing act of properly guessing her body’s sugar levels (she admits she still sometimes guesses wrong), incorporating Eastern medicine with Western treatments, and weighing in the rest of the world’s struggles with diabetes against her own.
Though Wyenn’s story is, by itself, interesting, what really brings it to life is her presentation. Her linear narrative about her life as a diabetic, from the onset of her symptoms to her making of the show, are often interrupted to include a variety of interspersed imagery about additional diabetes facts, its history, and the personal emotional breakdowns she has experienced along the way. Calm recitations from the final, jail-bound scenes in Shakespeare’s Richard II juxtapose her excited state of mind when dealing with new complications from having the disorder. 1950s infomercial-like explanations about how insulin works in the body are interrupted with electric static (sound design by John Zalewski) and colorful, exploding images (projection design by Jason H. Thompson) that reflect the distress diabetes has brought to her life. In those moments, Wyenn’s body writhes and she grits her teeth as if to fight off its debilitating effects.
Movement largely shapes the show. Her transitions are made up entirely of erratic choreography. Anecdotes are spoken directly into a camera she grabs and holds up to her face at different angles, providing up-close looks at her shifting expressions, which are then projected onto the wall behind her. Wyenn even checks her blood on stage twice, and chooses to reveal the results to the audience only once, emphasizing the fear, instability, and intimacy associated with a complete understanding of how much the number on the device rules her life.
But not all of Blood/Sugar is sad and tragic. Despite the growing number of people diagnosed with diabetes every year, Wyenn sees its expanding recognition as a step closer to reaching a cure. Her show is a political stance against insulin’s rising prices, which have recently caused those who can’t afford proper health care to ration their supplies and in many cases die. Through diabetes, Wyenn, who fights against the shame and stigma she feels about her body, has learned to take care of her health and hopes to spread her message to more audiences through what is genuinely a fun and enlightening show.
Each performance is followed by a panel of diabetes professionals and nutritionists who lead discussions and answer questions about every aspect of the disease. Her next presentation of the work will be in New York.
Bootleg Theater, 2220 Beverly Blvd., Filipinotown; Closed. https://www.bootlegtheater.org/. Running time: 90 minutes with no intermission.