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Hephaestus: A Stunning Mythological Cirucs
ATW Review 2/6/2008
Just underneath the Lookingglass Theatre Company's logo is a small tagline. It says "theatre without a net." This is not an exaggeration – if the company's Hephaestus: A Greek Mythology Circus Tale is any indication; because during the course of this visually sumptuous and often heart-stopping spectacle, there is no net in sight – even as performers stack themselves two high on a tightrope and perform breath-taking aerial feats.
"Hephaestus" is the creation of Tony Hernandez, who shares credit for "story" and "direction" with Heidi Stillman and also plays the title role. The piece, just over an hour, relates the myth of Hephaestus, the god of the forge, a son to Hera, who's thrown out of heaven and lands on an island. When he reaches the island, he's cared for by sea nymphs, whom he repays with lavish jewelry creations. When Hera espies her son's handiwork, she descends from Olympus to coax him back. He only creates a throne for her – one which imprisons her. At this juncture, Ares and Aphrodite both attempt to cajole him to release the goddess and to return.
Hernandez and Stillman envision this tale unfolding in the mind of a little girl (played with charm by Abigail Droeger), who has retreated to her room during a particularly ugly and loud conversation between her unseen parents. In her nightgown, she curls up with her teddy bear and a book of mythology. She comforts herself with Hephaestus' tale and its story of familial dysfunction.
This framework allows the girl to relate the story, and thus contextualize each of the piece's often stunning acts. It's an elegant solution – and one that elevates the production beyond mere theater. At the same time though, one wishes that the creators might have somehow found a way to integrate their emotionally charged framing device with the mythological spectacle as it unfolds.
This is a small quibble though, as each individual act boasts not only impressive feats of derring-do, but also beauty. When Hephaestus first reaches the island, a quartet of sea nymphs descend and perform an aerial cloth ballet. As this section of the play progresses, other nymphs descend and join in the sultry proceedings while other merely rest on the balconies above the audience blowing bubbles into the air.
The quiet (and seductive beauty) of the nymphs is counterbalanced later when Hephaestus' forge comes to life in a clanging and percussive sequence reminiscent of Stomp. The production moves back to a quieter and gentler level when Iris (Anna Vigeland) descends on ropes – which eventually become a swing - to call Hephaestus back to Olympus. As Vigeland performers her aerial feats, one can completely understand the allure of another beauty in a swing – Evelyn Nesbit. Lighting designer Brian Sidney Bembridge provides some of his most beautiful work for this portion of "Hephaestus" – washing the stage in a full rainbow of colors – appropriate as she is the goddess of the rainbow.
Bembridge's work is also wondrous as Lijana Wallenda-Hernandez (playing Hera) performs her own aerial ballet. Here, his prism-strewn white lighting somehow transforms the actress into a human mirror-ball. When Ares tries to strong arm Hephaestus into returning to Olympus, Almas Meirmanov provides a welcome variation to the aerial feats of the women – his work on two ropes sizzles with forceful strength and power. Interestingly although Anya Stankus never leaves the ground, her work as Aphrodite, and her combination of feats as a contortionist who also can spin multiple hoops may be among of the evening's most memorable.
Equally memorable – and exquisitely understated – is the final image of the piece. Hephaestus enters the little girl's room, and leaves a small chain with a hoop over the frame of her wrought-iron bed. It's a small replica of the throne that imprisoned Hera. It's an image that has such a multiplicity of meanings that theatergoers may find themselves discussing this small moment more than any of the dazzling feats that preceded it.
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Hephaestus continues through March 9 at the Lookingglass Theatre inside Chicago's historic Water Tower Water Works (821 N. Michigan Avenue). Performances are Tuesday through Friday at 7:30pm; and Saturday and Sunday at 3:00 and 7:30pm. Tickets are $30-$60 and can be purchased by calling 212-337-0665. Further information is available online at www.LookingglassTheatre.org.
-- Andy Propst
