Stones
Covey Center for the Arts, Provo
April 3-26, 2008
Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays
7:30 p.m.
Saturday evening I had an unexpected chance to see J. Scott Bronson’s two side-by-side plays, together titled Stones. It’s not surprising that Stones won AML’s best drama award in 2001. The play’s literary complexity begins with the titles and settings, with the first play, Altars, set on a mountaintop around the Old Testament altar of Abraham and Isaac, and the second play, Tombs, inside the cave-tomb of Jesus’ father-guardian, Joseph. One high and open, the other deep and enclosed. The centerpiece for both is a flat black, low stone table—the altar and the resting place.
Before seeing Altars, I always imagined the Abraham and Isaac story mythically, a kind of ritual whose main purpose was to prophecy of Christ. Altars made it real. A father and a son (the characters are never named in either play) trying to come to grips with what God is asking them to do. How does a father give his son such news? How does a son take it? The close, bare stage (I sat only a few feet from the actors) invites the audience to join their journey through anger and bitterness to unsparing acceptance. Miraculously, they avoid any hint of sappy. While the story stays true to ancient texts and times, the dialogue is always current and real. I believed in their love, their anger, their fear, their faith, their incomprehension. And I believed in their acceptance.
In Tombs, both parallel and opposite to Altars, the son (also never named) brings his mother the difficult news that he is to begin his ministry—the beginning of the end. Like Altars, this play zooms in on one small moment in one small place, enriched by memories and flashbacks that might naturally weave in at such a time. A simple, effective change in lighting signals the time switch, and the dialogue transitions smoothly between the current and the memory. Elwon Bakly, who plays the son in both stories, deftly treads the delicate line between Jesus’ divinity and His humanity. Kathryn Laycock Little gives us a Mary who is loving, strong, tender, humble even as she wrestles with bitterness at one of the worst moments of her life. She holds up all these complex emotions with incredible dignity.
Stones is hard to watch. But, as art should be, it’s a satisfying, enriching challenge. It’s worthwhile to feel the reality of these people who are often just stories to us. To find more in their stories by setting them side-by-side. To imagine who they might have been, and how they might sometimes have been a little bit like us. And then to be awed that they gave us the gifts that they did.
Great review, Cheri. You make me want to go see it.
Thank goodness! And thanks for taking a sec to say so, Emily. I think my review came out awfully somber, and I didn’t have time to try again–pet urgent care last night, all-day family outing today. And no comments when I got home–yikes! So thanks.
Cheri, I enjoyed reading the review, too. I was interested to read that you felt it “came out awfully somber.” Do you think this was because the play concentrated mostly on the anger, bitterness, fear, etc.? Did it include the triumph of faith or was the emphasis on acceptance?
I’d love to see these plays, too.
I just thought my review was a little too serious. Stones is great, left me fortified with lots to think about. It definitely had the “triumph of faith” as you put it.
Cheri–
That is a thoughtful and kind review; I thank you very much. And thanks for staying after for the talk-back session. Discussing the play always helps me get a little closer to figuring out just what the heck it is I was trying to say with it. Probing and intelligent questions and comments like yours are always helpful in getting my tired brain working. Thanks again.
And if I may …
Just a little update on how Stones is going. Halfway through the run, Kathryn, Elwon and I have all been remembering our lines and our blocking pretty well. So, that’s a good thing. However, last night, Elwon had his zipper down through the first half of the show. I don’t know if any of the five people who were there noticed, though. I didn’t hear any snickering or anything like that, so I don’t think they did.
For those who are thinking about coming to the show, let me throw some numbers at you. We have 55 seats in the house to which we can add 10 more if we need to. We split the difference and tell everyone it’s a 60 seat theatre. So, after six performances–or 360 (or 390) possible tickets sold–106 people have actually seen the show. What I think this means is that everybody who’s planning on coming is planning on coming closing night which means that we will have to turn away 295+ people.
I’m praying that you will not be among that group. So hurry to the internet now (www.coveycenter.org), or to the phone (801.852.7007) to get your tickets before they’re all gone … completely gone … as in, sold out.
It could happen.
Hope to see you there.
Scott, that’s hilarious (though maybe Elwon doesn’t think so yet). I doubt they noticed–not much could distract from the intensity of the performance. I actually want to see it again, and bring my husband this time. Guess I better get on it.
Cheri,
Fantastic review. I wish I could write reviews as well as you do. Definitely a worthwhile play to see. I’m so glad I did!