Sweet Land

Reviewed by Julia Lloyd George
The Industry
Through March 22 [NOTE: Closed early due to COVID-19]

RECOMMENDED

The words “experimental” and “opera” are not ones that I have ever paired in a sentence before, yet they make shockingly natural companions in the astoundingly original Sweet Land, a site-specific opera from MacArthur grant “genius” Yuval Sharon’s company, The Industry. Set in Los Angeles State Historic Park downtown, the production is a visceral, profound exploration of the impact of colonialism on the land and the societies that spring from it. It’s about the stories that we tell ourselves and how they redound across the centuries, painfully erasing some of the most important protagonists in the process.

The show begins in an open wooden structure with the metro tracks on one side and the park on the other. The indigenous people, otherwise known as the Hosts, come across the Arrivals — these are the colonists. After this initial meeting and some dialogue peppered with biblical references, the narrative reaches a fork. Depending on your assignment, you either take the “Feast” track or the “Train” track, which are distinct experiences that nevertheless undergo a similar evolution.

Since I was a “Feast” audience member, I followed a path further into the park and into another open wooden structure, this time round and intimate. The Arrivals wear the clothes of pilgrims and a table encircles the perimeter, suggesting a typical Thanksgiving scene. While the proceedings begin peacefully, the event soon devolves into conflict when one of the Arrivals, Jimmy Gin (Scott Belluz), tries to force one of the Hosts, Makwa (Kelci Hahn), to be his wife. It is a scene that starts with the bread and butter image of our national mythology and ends on a much darker note that our textbooks tend to elide.

To give much more detail would likely spoil the experience, but the narrative further fractures and mutates as the Arrivals claim dominion over the land. We sense this in the music, too, as the opera begins with heavily indigenous influences and gradually brings in baroque, classical, and even electronic sounds.

The two world-class composers, Raven Chacon and Du Yun, conjure an otherworldly atmosphere spiked with violence, while the librettists, Douglas Kearney and Aja Couchois Duncan, complement that effect with ancient, poetic language. The synthesis of all these voices makes for a polyphonic ghost story of buried trauma. By the end, when the audience gazes on a dystopian, industrialized future that integrates almost every element of the landscape, it is impossible not to feel haunted. The trouble is not forgetting.

Los Angeles State Historic Park, 1724 Baker St., Dogtown; Fri.-Sat., 7 p.m. & 9 p.m.; Sun., 5 p.m., 7 p.m. & 9 p.m.; through Mar. 22 [NOTE: Closed early due to COVID-19]. Theindustryla.org. Running time: 90 minutes with no intermission.

Glass Ceilings

Reviewed by Julia Lloyd George
Rockwell Table & Stage
Through March 28 [NOTE: Remaining shows postponed due to COVID-19]

RECOMMENDED

In all honesty, seeing a you-go-girl musical about feminists throughout history during the week Elizabeth Warren ended her presidential campaign did not seem like an activity that would help me out of my politically induced heartbreak. But Glass Ceilings proved to be just what I needed to stave off despair; it’s a ton of fun, yet it also refuses to gloss over the harsh realities of womanhood throughout history. The show manages to celebrate the enormous achievements of its historical characters, while somberly noting the many hurdles that women still face to this day. I would recommend it for anyone struggling to process feelings about the state of feminism in a country that still seems to blanch at the prospect of a woman seeking power; it’s both a gut punch and a rousing call to action.

Glass Ceilings begins with a punky Goddess (Leslie Rubino) archly singing about how she created the world in only one day — and making it clear that she bested her much more famous male counterpart, yet got no recognition for her work.

Next, she deposits a group of mysteriously dressed women into a room they cannot identify. Their only clue is a glowing, pink neon sign on the wall that reads “Hergatory” — so you get the idea that they are in some version of the afterlife. As they get to talking and sharing their stories through songs, they slowly realize that each of them has struggled to gain success and recognition in male-dominated fields. They all have triumphs to be proud of, yet all have faced tragedy and heartbreak in a world stacked against them.

Some of these women have names you will likely recognize, like Sacagawea (Randi De Marco), Sally Ride (Amanda Kruger), and Elizabeth Blackwell (Erin Stoddard). Others, while unfamiliar to me, had equally fascinating lives and stories. I am embarrassed to say I had never heard of Anne Royall (Eileen Faxas), arguably this country’s first professional female journalist. There’s also a fearsome pirate queen, Ching Shih (Jennifer Sun Bell), Revolutionary War heroine Sybil Ludington (Charity Farrell), and hair care entrepreneur Madam C. J. Walker (Matisha Baldwin). Tanya Apuya’s costume design for all of these characters spans centuries of historical fashion and is truly remarkable.

One of the most notable scenes has Sacagawea singing about Lewis and Clark and their rejection of her plea to return east with them after the end of their journey — because her abusive husband, Toussaint Charbonneau, would not allow it. It’s an agonizing revelation, especially given Sacagawea’s enormous contributions to the expedition, rendered without pay. De Marco does excellent, poignant work here.

The show is at its strongest, however, portraying the story of a female politician’s rise to power and campaign for president — a segment clearly inspired by Hillary Clinton’s 2016 campaign. Some of the show’s best music is in this section, including my runaway favorite, “Mansplaining,” about a young senator’s aide, Steve (a pitch-perfect Frankie Zabilka), who just can’t seem to stop the horrible practice. Composer and lyricist Laura Watkins deserves viral success for this much-needed comic relief. Soon after, though, the show reverts to the bigger issues of present-day patriarchy.

The stinging message proffered by Glass Ceilings, after all, is how often history repeats itself in painful ways, and how the path toward progress is littered with back steps and side steps. All the women in “Hergatory” are forced to watch the political candidate’s inevitable failure and loss — angry that society has progressed so little. It is as infuriating for them as it is for us, the audience — until they remember how far they have come.

Rockwell Table & Stage, 1714 N. Vermont Ave., Los Feliz; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; through Mar. 28 [NOTE: Remaining shows postponed due to COVID-19]. https://glassceilingsmusical.com/. Running time: 90 minutes with no intermission.