“Wisconsin Death Trip,” the Program in Performing Arts’ new production premiering now, is an appropriate title in more ways than one. The play is first and foremost a trip in every sense of the word: strange in its premise, the history of a small town in rural Wisconsin circa 1893; hallucinatory in its presentation, with actors decked out in dusty Edwardian gowns and projected black-and-white photographs flashing in the background; and haunting with its songs of death, depression, and despair.
The play, actually more of a “chamber” or “folk opera” in the words of co-writer and director Tim Raphael, an assistant professor in performing arts, is also a trip in the sense that it leaves you disconcerted and confused at its ending — what really have you just witnessed, a glorified folk music concert or a profound take through song on a forgotten aspect of American history? It is certainly a modern theater piece, or it might even be better to call it an experimental theater experience with its lack of any semblance of a concrete plotline, but one that I’m not sure actually succeeds in its ambiguity. Nevertheless, the stunning visuals of “Trip” and the intermingling of mediums — photography, music, the written word — with the spectacle of theater combine to make a show that may be convoluted, but still beautiful in its use of visual and theatrical imagery.
An adaptation of a book of the same name by Michael Lesy, “Wisconsin Death Trip” begins with Walt (Clark Young, COL ’09), a bearded redneck who lives in present-day Black River Falls, Wisc., stepping out of his trailer and breaking into song about how he doesn’t belong in the country. As he becomes more and more depressed at his surroundings, a group of ghostly figures from the past suddenly emerge on the stage. They tell Walt to “wait now,” and then launch into a number of songs describing the sad state of their lives in Black River Falls. We learn about Pauline l’Allemande (Nellie Darling, NHS ’11), a tragic opera singer who could never catch a break, a couple who lost their baby and were never the same again, and countless other deaths and calamities. Most of this is through the medium of song, though there is some dialogue, most notably by the Huckster (Matt MacNelly, COL ’08), a traveling salesman of elixirs and cure-alls. Throughout the entire performance, photographs and fragments of illegible text are illuminated on different panels of the set — portraits and newspaper clippings, funeral shots and bare images of pine trees.
“Trip,” though boring to me with its endless vague anecdotes of rural life and almost too planned dramatic ambiguity, does have beautiful songs. A collaboration between Raphael and his friend and colleague Jeff Berkson, a professional composer, the music is a wonderful combination of rollicking folk melodies (think mandolin, guitar, piano and violin) and mournful and sad lullabies.
The cast all sings beautifully together, and freshman Darling, as the opera singer, stands out for her lovely, yet pathos-ridden soprano. The continuity of the songs also makes for a harmonious and unified score, as well as a sense that through the power of song the residents of Black River Falls find their voice. It is this juxtaposition of other mediums of the arts that makes the show so new and interesting. The technology for projecting the photographs and other visual elements is in fact a unique feature of the Davis Center, and available only at a handful of theatres throughout the United States. Technology aside, though, the differing visual elements are at times distracting (photographs change, fade or brighten while the rest of the action continues on the stage), but overall give a cohesive diversity to the town’s history and also a sense that the characters on stage were real people. This combination is also apt considering the content of Lesy’s book — a mixture of historical photographs of Black River Falls, newspaper articles, local gossip and Lesy’s own writing.
The production, being a premiere by one of Georgetown’s own, is also an important symbol of the continued growth of the University’s theater department. Raphael hopes that by developing and staging new works, theater at Georgetown will not only be a larger force in campus and academic life, but also introduce new elements into the world of theater itself and “keep theater going, make [it] current in [the] unique way theatre can.”
While “Trip” itself may be overdone in its sense of trying way too hard not to be conventional theater and for the sheer tedium of its subject (what in fact really does make rural life in middle-of-nowhere Wisconsin interesting? Answer: not much), it is important in showing the continued efforts of Georgetown’s theater community to be vital and necessary on campus and in the greater D.C. area.