Gertrude and Alice return, just as charming but with deeper intentions
25 Aug 2018

by Drew Rowsome - Photos by Jeremy Mimnagh

As this is a remount of the hit and multi-Dora Award nominated play Gertrude and Alice, it is difficult to not dwell on comparing the two productions. Re-reading the review of the original version reminds me that what was so charming about the play, remains. But it also, because of the passage of time or perhaps the new set design, digs deeper and into a more emotional place. Both interpretations are perfectly valid, moving and entertaining.

Gertrude and Alice purports to be a biographical portrait of the famed literary lovers and a chance for Gertrude Stein to assert her claim of being a genius who is the root source of 20th century literature. Alice B Toklas begins by being supportive and backgrounded, but slowly moves to the fore and what starts as a comical ego trip by Stein becomes a nuanced examination of relationships and what they give. And what they cost.

Evalyn Parry (Kiinalik: These Sharp Tools) strides onto the stark set festooned with mobiles and sculptures of a vaguely cubist or bauhausian style. The space is intimate with the audience stacked on each side, providing Stein/Parry with immediate interactions. There is no fourth wall and she chats, harangues, quips and quotes liberally from herself. Parry's ease with the complicated and occasionally nonsensical Stein language is remarkable. It all not only makes perfect sense but is comic, touching and revealing. Just what a genius would be able to do.

Stein pontificates as she paces the stage or does the "nothing" required of a genius, but the delightful Anna Chatterton's Alice B Toklas interacts with the sculptures. While Stein is about words, Toklas cannot bear to not be busy, to use her hands. She is the physical grounding that the genius needs to complete her work. Chatterton leads with her hips and revels in the sensuality of not only her love for Stein, but also for life, food and sex. A scene where she explains that she gave up studying to be a concert pianist to become Stein's typist, is a perfect melding of metaphor, sound and a distinct talent for clowning. One laughs while wiping away tears.

Chatterton layers on details and subtly builds to the inevitable eruption of passion and anger. It is masterfully done. All the props she needs are built into or within the sculptures and, while occasionally calling attention to their own cleverness, it is effective. The sand/hourglass metaphor is heavy-handed but it supplies a powerful reveal at a key point, and the final moments with the mobiles is a stunner. 

The three creators - Parry, Chatterton and director and composer of the intricate and expressive score Karin Randoja - obviously worked closely with artist/set designer Sherri Hay to create a conceptual twist. Whereas the first incarnation used projections and realistic props to riff on biographical documentaries, this Gertrude and Alice embodies the artistic revolution Stein was part of. Parry tells us that "a genius can change the way you see things" and that they "dismantle components of reality and reassemble them." All artists attempt to pierce to the soul of what they are seeing and feeling in order to present it in a new and concise form. To reveal from a different angle. Like a Stein sonnet or a Picasso painting, the form becomes part of the content and, in this Gertrude and Alice's case, quite gracefully.

What is so wonderful about Gertrude and Alice is not just the love story at its heart but that a play about historical literary lesbians can be so droll and amusing. Parry's ability to deliver a punch line, she brought down the house several times with unlikely material, dovetails beautifully with Chatterton's delicate shtick turning Gertrude and Alice into a comedy duo for the ages. Gertrude and Alice also takes the time to remind us that their very public relationship was groundbreaking and brave. We need to celebrate our ancestors who kicked open closet doors and paved the way for who we are struggling to become. It sounds cliché, and more than a little like Gertrude Stein, but it is a universal truth that "love is love."