Fringe Reviews

Writer Sondra Learn presents her composition, Attics, for us somewhat in the manner of a musician selecting elements of larger works in order to convey a common theme for easier consumption. What we hear in this production are three movements of a “suite for stage”, each seemingly derived from a larger, more complete work. We cannot escape the feeling that each piece has come from a fuller concept yet to be realized. That each will find realization eventually is up to Sondra Learn, but we feel they have the makings.

Death, loss… poignant memories of love or what might have been, each segment of the work is lush with emotions, coming from someplace, going someplace yet to be defined. Learn has a strong penchant for emotional content and gives her actors here plenty to work with. Each takes the material provided and searches for the best it has to offer. It all comes together quite effectively in the large backstage space at Aquarius. Three actors are in three separate attics, and each finds a starting point among the remnants of her life stored there. They pick through the memorabilia and emote for us a variation of the themes. Love is a major key throughout, and from love come hurt and betrayal, even suicide and death, each resolving into resignation, resolution and a poetic kind of peace. All the movements are knit together with a guitar continuo of elegant sensitivity played by Paul Kennedy with fine skill.

The performances are just fine. I was wonderfully affected by Aliix Whyte’s “Chloe”, the youngest of the trio. She has a fine control of her material and measures her delivery with the economy usually associated with older performers. There’s a memory of her once playing the mad Ophelia in a deeply affecting moment, singing exquisitely, reminiscent to me of Donizetti’s Lucia.

Valery Kay gives a mischievous performance as Margaret, all grandmotherly and alone with her recollections, teasing us with bits of wit while teetering on the edge of panic and regrets. Kay is an accomplished performer and knows pace and timing. Her use of her eyes is compelling.

As Alexandra, Kyla McCall is every bit the former name celebrity still living on the crumbs of her fame. Hers is a difficult challenge, measuring her memory of her loved one’s suicide with equal parts acceptance and resignation with a need to rage against the betrayal of it. McCall just avoids delicately the disaster of going over the top. Nicely done. McCall has wonderful stage poise.

Learn directs with good pacing and a sensitive hand. The production is aided by strong management skills from Valerie VanLandschoot, assisted by Dylan Istead. All is evocatively set with care for detail in art and costume, lighting and the guitar continuo.

Reviewed by Tom Mackan

(In the interests of due diligence, the reviewer avers that he is a colleague of Ms. Learn in Community Theatre. He hopes that he has sensibly detached himself and his report meets the demands of objectivity required.)