Buntport Theater

season 15

A female art museum security guard sits on an upholstered bench in front of a life size nude painting of Danae (the mother of Perseus) by Rembrandt. She’s speaking out and gesturing back to the painting.

Colorado Drama- The Rembrandt Room

The collection, which began with massive purchases by Catherine the Great in the 18th century, counts among its many treasures one of Rembrandt’s greatest works, which depicts Danaë welcoming Zeus, in the form of a shower of gold, to her bed. A reproduction now hangs on Buntport’s stage, where it is guarded by an introspective woman (Erin Rollman) of curious mind. At the Hermitage Museum (St. Petersburg, Russia), which houses the world’s largest collection of paintings, the guards are generally older women, who wear their own clothes and sit near the masterpieces. Occasionally, they interact with the public, providing historical background and general information.

Rollman’s character, Anna, has, in essence, made the painting her life’s meditation. As we learn, her contemplation goes far beyond the Greek myth depicted on the impressive eight by ten foot canvas of the original, and includes the details of Rembrandt’s life, the history of the models, and the journey of the painting itself. All this is set off by Anna’s insights and opinions on all the matters.

Rollman’s dramatic and comedic range, unlimited in all directions, serves as wonderful springboard for 82 minutes of hilarity, pathos, and opinionated hyperbole.

Imagine, for a moment, the multi-faceted directions your consciousness might take if you spent days, weeks, and years sitting with a master’s painting. At some point, it all becomes personal, as Anna’s stream-of-consciousness monologue increasingly reveals, culminating with life imitating art.

-Bob Bows, April, 10, 2016 ColoradoDrama.com

A bearded person sits on the toilet in a bathroom crowded with beauty products. Another person opens the door to check on them.

North Denver Tribune- Buntport’s 10 Myths a Mashup of Myth, Gender, Loss, and Music

The script, developed by the usual collaborative Buntporters (Erin Rollman, SamAnTha Schmitz, Hannah Duggan, Brian Colonna, and Erik Edborg), along with fellow castmates Diana Dresser and Michael Morgan, and musicians Dan Eisenstat, Miriam Suzanne, and Sondra Elby, is interesting, funny at times, thoughtful, occasionally very sad, and challenging. It uses a contemporary interpretation of the myth of Salmacis and Hermaphroditus, a man and woman who are merged to form one being of both sexes. In this production, this is (thankfully) not a special effects-based attempt to merge two people, but a decidedly low tech fusion, with Edborg and Dresser using proximity and direct contact to portray the combination of two into one. The story confronts the audience with the reality of what this sort of merger could really mean to the two people themselves and to their circle of friends. Buntport Theater creates new work in a way unlike anyone else. When they adapt, or interpret, or, as they say about their latest creation, 10 Myths on the Proper Application of Beauty Products, do “more of an extension.” One intrinsic aspect of Buntport’s approach is to be consistent with the nature of the original. The source in this case is Miriam Suzanne’s novel Riding SideSaddle (published under the name Eric M. Suzanne), a box of 250 randomly ordered index cards, each with a snippet of the story. Watching the performance, it is helpful to keep this in mind, to set expectations appropriately. 10 Myths is a series of short scenes which are connected by characters and are clearly part of the same story, but do not follow a clear, logical, linear time sequence, yet still have a nice rhythm, building to a climax appropriately.

The physical space is crucially important to the story, as it always is with Buntport, and nearly all the action takes place inside a small (about 8′ by 8′) bathroom. The entire cast is always present, with those not involved in each scene off to the sides, but the movement outside the bathroom is in slow motion and dimly lit. The tight space constrains everything, with its restrictions causing conflict and necessitating compromise. It also allows for some humor at different levels, including physical comedy, some (literal) bathroom humor, the reality of day-to-day life in front of a mirror that isn’t there, and a three-piece band in the bathtub. But importantly, it also helps connect the audience with the story, making it much more part of the contemporary everyday world, including helping to imbue it with undercurrents of how we define gender.

The acting is spot-on. A pure ensemble piece, none of the actors stands out or dominates, but each creates a unique character important to the story. Diana Dresser is Sam, seemingly sad, but hopeful, merging, then merged, then anticipating the merger with Erik Edborg as Herman. From the start, both are somewhat (for lack of a better word) hermaphroditic, reinforcing the gender combination. The two are fascinating to watch as their fusion ebbs and flows throughout the nonlinear “story.” Hannah Duggan and Erin Rollman are realistic as Jenny and Jolene, a loving couple dealing with physical and emotional challenges. Michael Morgan is hilarious as Edward, compulsive and wonderfully frustrated by the others, but still cared for and appreciated as part of the group. Brian Colonna, labeled “Narrator” in the program, also adds comic relief, is perhaps the most real of the characters, and struggles to fit in with the others.

As with all things Buntport, the scenery, lighting, and costumes are developed in parallel with the production by the collaborative group. This enables a level of integration rarely achieved by other companies with the occasional exception of those with very significant budgets. The concept of a small, constrained bathroom in a wide expanse of blackness is intrinsic to the production. The details in the bathroom are impeccable, and the darkened areas to the left and right provide the perfect periphery for the primary action.

The band provides an appropriate soundtrack to the dialogue and activity onstage, never dominating, but always enhancing. The members of the band also provide an opportunity for occasional surprises when they unexpectedly interact with the characters in the story.

While 10 Myths on the Proper Application of Beauty Products has comedy, it is not as funny as much of what Buntport has created over the years. The focus is more thoughtful, challenging the audience to piece together the story from nonlinear bits and pieces, and to think about gender, and identity, and relationships, and loss. I think I prefer some of the more outrageously funny past productions, but I also do like to be challenged in this way, and appreciate that Buntport is always willing to try new and different material, pushing audiences in new directions.

-Craig Williamson, March, 17, 2016 North Denver Tribune

CU Denver Sentry- Buntport Theater Hosts Bathtub Of Musicians

10 Myths on the Proper Application of Beauty Products is, in essence, a modern myth. The play is hard to concisely summarize, but that is what makes it so intriguing. Hosted by the Buntport Theater Company, the play’s venue is located far down the Art District on Santa Fe, next to eccentrically decorated homes in a rented out warehouse space. The independent theater is unassuming and humble in its presence, as is their current play.

10 Myths is a cryptic and enigmatic play about an ambiguous group of friends who thoroughly thwart the notions of order, gender, identity, and normalcy. The play is an adaptation of Denver author Miriam Suzanne’s novel Riding SideSaddle. The book is composed of 250 note cards that are not numbered, so it does not have to be read in any particular order. The novel and the play are inspired by the life of Margaret Clap, the first women to open a hotel exclusively for gay men, and the myth of Hermaphroditus, giving the piece its mythological air. Each index card reads a few sentences at the most, some humorous and some leaving readers with a lump in their throat.

Suzanne’s novel is as enticing as the adaptation. Segments of her novel are pinned on the wall before entering the theater; they act as novelized embellishments against the black wall. Note cards reading heart aching things among other eloquent and poetic fragments all tender, harrowing, and bewitching, such as, “He leaves piles of me scattered in corners. I want to wretch, but I can’t.”

The play is a 21st-century myth being relayed from a bathroom. A band sits in the bathtub playing music while the audience enters. The band is Teacup Gorilla, an alternative local band with the bass played by the writer, Suzanne herself. As the lights go pitch black for a minute or so, a woman appears on stage dressed in baggy blue jeans and a T-shirt. “Makeup tutorial number one,” she says, looking out into the audience as if it were her mirror.

Most of the story is told from perhaps one of the most private places in one’s home: the bathroom. Each character appears, providing their own makeup tutorial, which often veers off into a far more captivating story of Greek myths or personal tangents than a tutorial on how to make your eyebrows “on fleet.”

10 Myths is a diamond in the rough‐a play about the absurdity of categories, the sadistic ritual of makeup, and how inaccurately Barbie is proportioned.

It is about the occasional atrocity of humanity, and how “ghosts are dicks, and why can’t they just be dead?” It’s about the farce of 21st-century abbreviations, about challenging the idea of God and tradition, about myth and reality, about the days when you feel crazy. 10 Myths is the 21st-century myth: The characters are humorous and charming, and they are blank slates as clear as dishwater. The play is aching, tender, and blithe, and it leaves the viewer with a sense of a peculiar belonging.

-Sarai Nissan, March, 30, 2016 CU Denver Sentry

A group of people are crowded into a bathroom. A band with instruments sits in the bath tub. Two people, seemingly entwined, attempt to brush their teeth in the foreground.

10 Myths on the Proper Application of Beauty Products

RIDING SIDESADDLE

An adaptation of local author Miriam Suzanne’s novel Riding SideSaddle*, which is printed on 250 interchangeable index cards and is an “open source” text, meant to be added to, adapted, morphed into something new. Pretty much like a Buntport play. (more…)

Two people stand at the bathroom sink. While looking in the mirror one brushes their teeth while another checks their eyelashes.

Westword- 10 Myths on the Proper Application of Beauty Products Is a Beaut of a Show

Some things to know before attending Buntport Theater Company’s 10 Myths on the Proper Application of Beauty Products:

The play is set in a bathroom ‐ a somewhat cramped, lighted square in the middle of the playing space flanked by semi-darkness in which you can watch the characters not currently on stage standing, sitting, interacting or walking very slowly toward the doorway for their entrances. It’s even more cramped because the three musicians who comprise Teacup Gorilla are ensconced in the bathtub, providing the sound. 10 Myths is experimental but not pretentious, and more interested in enlightening than befuddling you ‐ but you won’t learn anything useful here about shampoo, hair gel or makeup.This production doesn’t make sense ‐ at least not linear sense. The piece is based on the novel Riding SideSaddle, by Miriam Suzanne, who’s also part of a band called Teacup Gorilla. The novel is written on 250 notecards, and it’s “open source” ‐ which means, I think, that you can find and modify it if you want. Buntport, a company known for creating original plays based on all kinds of prompts ‐ seeing Tommy Lee Jones in line for a production of La Bohème in Santa Fe; locating a large sheet of artificial ice and figuring it would work perfectly as an underpinning for Kafka’s Metamorphosis; wondering if Shakespeare’s Titus Andronicus wouldn’t be better as a musical ‐ clearly felt free to do exactly that. So the troupe has added dialogue and a kind of goofily mixed-up structure based on repetition of the beauty-products motif.

So now you’re ready.

The characters are a group of people who live together. They’re all misfits, primarily sexual misfits, and none of them are at home in their bodies. They’ve known each other forever, and they’re open about their bathroom habits ‐ except for the guy who can’t pee when anyone else is there. In the persons of actors Erik Edborg, Brian Colonna, Hannah Duggan and Erin Rollman, they’re warmly accessible. These actors work together with comfort and authority, with an almost musical sense of timing that comes from years of creating theater as a team. Two new actors, Diana Dresser and Michael Morgan, have joined them here, and ‐ surprise ‐ they fit in brilliantly and add some wonderful madness of their own.

At the center of the story (non-story?) are Herman (Edborg) and Sam (Dresser), aka Hermaphrodite and Salmacis. They are striving to become one being, male and female, and in front of our eyes, they do ‐ and then they separate again. We learn that Sam has died and Herman is grieving. No one in the house is remotely surprised by any of this; they pay no attention to Herman’s profound grief ‐ less because they’re hard-hearted than because that’s just the way the cards fell.

Jolene (a masculinized Rollman) and Jenny (Duggan) have their own partnership, and they groom each other’s hair a lot. Jolene has only one arm, and the others speculate on the cause, the likeliest suggestion being that she cut it off because she has xenomelia ‐ an irrational obsession in which a person believes a limb doesn’t really belong to them and may even be harmful or hostile.

10 Myths is about our relationship to our bodies ‐ spit and piss, diarrhea and sweat: Someone mentions a woman who sat on the toilet so long her butt grew around the seat. Hermaphroditism is only part of the sexual picture. The play makes us think about the dizzying variety of possible physical variations to human genitalia and their spiritual and psychological consequences; the usual categories of “male” and “female” are just too simplistic. The play isn’t perfect; it’s a touch too long. But what I particularly liked is that it remystifies a world of pansexuality that had begun to feel trite and mechanical. Years ago, when you read about human beings who felt trapped in their own bodies, or thought about the essence of being male or female, profound echoes arose. These days the discussion is just about surgeries and hormone pills, bathroom arguments and the supposed beauty and bravery of Caitlin Jenner.

10 Myths restores a sense of mystery and magic we’d been missing, irrational gods and strange love, the nymph in the crystal water and the boy-man she prayed to possess forever.

-Juliet Wittman, March, 9, 2016 Westword

 

A person plucks hair off their lip at the bathroom sink. Two people stand in the background. One stands on a toilet.

ColoradoDrama.com- 10 Myths on the Proper Application of Beauty Products

Based on Miriam Suzanne’s novel, Riding Side-Saddle‐written on 250 notecards (which are posted in Buntport’s lobby) designed to be read in any order‐the story revolves around a group of friends that share a common bathroom (along with the band, Teacup Gorilla, including Suzanne on bass, who reside in the bathtub). For their 40th home-grown world premiere production in the company’s 16 years, the Buntporters and a few guest artists have bravely gone where few have dared tread, the communal bathroom, to teach us about the proper application of beauty products, the Greeks, and the meaning of life.

To the novel, the ensemble has added their own dialogue and character development. Sam (Diana Dresser) and Herman (Erik Edborg) are in a relationship in which they literally conjoin. The “Narrator” (Brian Colonna) provides the background to the asynchronous storyline, which, in short order, begins to reveal the sophisticated layering that the ensemble has created in their script, improvisational updates, and hilarious details.

As always, character development is the hook to Buntport’s legendary zaniness: Hannah Duggan’s (Jenny) subtle waking dream-state imagery; Michael Morgan’s (Edward) laugh-out-loud funny OCD riffs; Erin Rollman’s (Jolene) gender-bending enigma; Colonna’s sublime psychological observations; and, finally, Dresser and Edborg’s phenomenal symbiotic dynamics and unique love story, based on the myth of Salmacis and Hermaphroditus.

Consider the usual time span involved in writing a play, reading it, making adjustments, repeating the process X times, and then producing it. Now think about what you would learn and hone if you accelerated the process and did this two to three times a year for 16 years with your adult productions, and even more often with your children’s productions. The answer is before us: Nuances that normally take years‐foreshadowing, time-bending, catharsis‐can be achieved in months, and voilà, an hour and forty minutes of non-stop action later, we are ready to talk for hours about our experience

-Bob Bows, March, 8, 2016 ColoradoDrama.com

A band plays in a bathtub. The lighting is shadowy and colorful.

Denver Post- Buntport’s dark comedy “10 Myths” an oddly satisfying one-act

From Greek myth to bathroom mirror, Buntport’s dark comedy “10 Myths”
reflects on bodies, love, loss and humanity
Buntport Theater prides itself on experimental undertakings and its latest, “10 Myths on the Proper Application of Beauty Products,” the first full-length show of its 15th season, manages to hold our attention while stretching the bounds of conventional theater.

“10 Myths” is an oddly satisfying dark comedy, a meditation on bodies, humanity, love and loss.

This is an impressionistic story of corporeal selves, identity and flossing. Even if you are not in need of a makeup tutorial, there are life lessons to be learned. The bathroom mirror, truth-teller and judge of time and gravity, is the centerpiece and a key character. As the set is constructed, the back of the (imaginary) looking glass is to the audience; we become the mirror. We observe as a disparate cluster of characters pile into the bathroom, peer straight ahead and pluck, brush, fluff, tweeze and otherwise attend to their physical selves. It’s crowded, this bathroom, with six actors sharing space, not to mention a three-member band, already playing as the show begins. In the bathtub.

Consider the deeper meaning of morning ablutions: the judgments, the changing selves that peer back, the gender expectations and physical relationships that are apparent there, not to mention a chin hair or smudged mascara, in a tight space dedicated to all manner of bodily functions.

The porcelain throne is just part of the altar to the impermanent human vessel.

Part of the genius of “10 Myths” is the spare set. The play takes place in the small, minimally designed john at center stage, flanked by large black spaces: a video recorder on a tripod on one side, where a slow-motion disrobing takes place repeatedly, and a TV monitor on the other, where slow-moving housemates pick at casseroles and watch the video. Expensive set design wouldn’t tell the story any better.

The videos capture the nightly undressing of Sam (Diana Dresser), a process which she has obsessively labeled and archived for posterity. Sam is a short-timer, or may already have passed; the chronology is intentionally confusing. But we do know that people bring casseroles to comfort those who’ve suffered a loss. Sam is soulfully merged with Herman, and as a he-she combo they practice being physically glommed onto each other as well, in intricately choreographed togetherness. Erik Edborg is riveting as Herman, a gender-bending, leotard-wearing gentle soul. Dresser is a sprite (a water nymph?), landing her comic one-liners. They both let melancholy seep through the humor.

Housemates Jenny (Hannah Duggan) and one-armed Jolene (Erin Rollman) are a witty, verbally adept couple considering having a baby, while Edward (Michael Morgan) is stuck cleaning and the Narrator (Brian Colonna) serves to reign in the sometimes wandering story. Morgan is elastic as the deeply neurotic Edward, physically compounding each line reading. Colonna provides a baseline, the most buttoned-down character despite his flamboyant scarf and eye makeup.

Don’t try to label any of them; these characters resist defining.

The show is an adaptation/rearrangement of local author Miriam Suzanne’s novel “Riding SideSaddle,” which was printed on 250 interchangeable index cards, meant to be shuffled as an “open source” text. It too is more Rorschach test than linear story.

Suzanne sprinkles Greek myth into the mix (notably Salmacis and Hermaphroditus, who merge as one being of two sexes), along with a theoretical “God of Hygiene,” further blurring categories.

The band, Teacup Gorilla, underscores emotions and lines; the effect is appropriately wry.

“We’re not talking about death here, we’re talking about bodies,” Sam says. As the mirror knows, you don’t get one without the other.

-Joanne Ostrow, March, 7, 2016 Denver Post

Two people stare into the mirror. Together they contemplate their eyebrows. Someone is flossing their teeth in the background.

OutFront- 10 Myths

Buntport Theater, in collaboration with Teacup Gorilla presents, 10 Myths on the Proper Application of Beauty Products. Using the novel Riding Sidesaddle by local author Miriam Suzanne, the play works as an adaptation of the novel, which is printed on 250 interchangeable index cards. The play works through dark comedy and wit to challenge ideas of gender and appearance, all manifested into”these absurd carcasses we live in.” The play features six actors, and the three-person band Teacup Gorilla, all within one bathroom. The characters go through their daily routines, while participating in extraordinary conversations between close friends.

The entirety of the play is performed in the bathroom, a traditionally private place. However, we see that this bathroom is anything but. Each character has but a few moments to themselves before another character emerges, and communication is brought about by looking into the mirror, and going through routine hygiene, such as brushing teeth or applying makeup. The characters, in fact, rarely communicate on a face-to-face level, it’s through looking at their reflection in the mirror. It showcases the amount of time, energy, and self-doubt that we put into our appearance. All the while, the band sits in the bathtub, providing the option for the characters to break the fourth wall, and supply emotional depth to the piece.

A heavy emphasis on makeup and its effects are brought about from the opening of the play. Mocking a YouTube “DIY” makeup tutorial, each character provides beauty tips, followed by their own personal musing about the world they live in. Makeup becomes a display, a mask to put on in order to be seen a certain way. As the character of the narrator ponders, he brings up the idea that he wishes to look a certain way, but the only way to look a certain way is to be seen. This begs the question: Is this form of expression for us, or the people who look at us? This play works to redefine the makings of gender and appearance through breaking down their true meanings, and how the routine plays just as large of a role in our lives as the big moments.

Buntport Theater is a non-profit company that continues to make contributions through the donations of their audience. When walking into the box office, I was greeted by smiling faces and a table of refreshments. Although small in size, the theater is large in character and passion. Each actor preforming was talented and evocative, and truly made a connection with the audience. Their personalities shone through the emanation of their characters, which is what made their play truly shine. Diana Dresser plays Sam, who records herself getting undressed before bed, and tells the story of the Greek myth of Salmacis and Hermaphroditus, in which the two sexes are merged into one. Erik Edborg portrays Herman, Sam’s close friend who offers to help Hannah Duggan, playing Jenny, and her girlfriend Jolene, played by Erin Rollman, have a baby. Michael Morgan is Edward, a nervous and avid cleaner of the bathroom. And Brian Colonna serves as the “narrator,” coming onto stage to question reality, and offer counter points to our assumed perceptions of ourselves. A quirky, witty, and thought-provoking play, 10 Myths on the Proper Application of Beauty Products is a dynamic and entertaining social exploration. A tale of friendship, myth, storytelling, and loss, the various personalities of the characters work together to bring out humor as well as heart wrenching reality. Definitely a production worth writing about, talking about, and going to see.

-Berlin Sylvestre, March, 7, 2016 OutFront

In the foreground two people dance in a dim blue light. Behind them a group of people stand in a small bathroom. A band plays in the bathtub.

Douglas County News-Press Confounding tale staged at Buntport

Open-source story gave inspiration for latest show

It helps ‐ or not ‐ to know that inspiration for Buntport’s latest original production came from a non-linear, open-source tale called “Riding Sidesaddle” by musician Miriam Suzanne, published under the name Eric M. Suzanne. It’s printed on 250 3-by-5 index cards to be read in no particular order. Copies of those cards were displayed in Buntport’s entry lobby on opening night, March 4.

Bunport’s four actor/writer/directors ‐ Erik Edborg, Brian Colonna, Hannah Duggan and Erin Rollman ‐ were joined by two accomplished local actors, Diana Dresser and Michael Morgan, who also participated in the company’s collaborative writing process to create “10 Myths on the Proper Application of Beauty Products.”

“We’ve taken the same characters and many of the plot points and built more of the world,” say the program notes. “Like the novel, the play is about memory, myth and these absurd carcasses we all live in” Six characters alternate brushing teeth, applying eye liner, brushing hair and occasionally trying to urinate ‐ combined with subtle actions in the two far corners, which the audience needs to keep an eye on too. The production, carefully staged as always, takes place in a brightly lit, centrally located bathroom, with shadowy action continuing to each side. Three members of the Teacup Gorilla Band are in the bathtub, strumming, playing chords … including author Miriam Suzanne. Actors peer out through the “fourth wall” as they talk and primp.

Diana Dresser (Sam) appears first, looking in the mirror, grouchy, and applying eye makeup. When she’s not in the bathroom, she retreats to a dark corner where she continually changes clothes, getting ready for bed.

She’s joined by Jenny (Hannah Duggan), who enters from the other side, which has a television showing Sam dressing and undressing and a spread of casseroles for snacking. Sam is joined by an androgynous Herman (Erik Edborg) and they merge into the mythological characters of Salmacis and Hermaphroditus, who become “one being of both sexes.”

The audience sees them acting as one being, but a bit of additional explanation in the notes might have helped. (I found Tracy Witherspoon’s interview with Rollman, Colonna and Suzanne online, which spells it out ‐ –there is a brief mention of Hermaphroditus in the script.)

Erin Rollman’s character Jolene carries a “ghost” arm, which we aren’t supposed to see. Michael Morgan, as Edward, is a bit awkward and has some funny lines and a quizzical air.

In the tub are Dan Eisenstat on guitar, Miriam Suzanne on bass and Sondra Eby on drums. They keep a background thrum going and do burst into song on occasion.

The band’s website describes them as “Americana, Indie, Post Punk … A petite and ground-dwelling band that inhabits the china shops of Denver with angular riffs, twisted stories and obtuse stomping.” (You’ll want to hear them perform at a Denver club, which they frequently do.) They were also involved in creating this play.

“There might be something in the water,” Herman observes near the end. Perhaps that’s it!

While a bit harder to grasp that some earlier productions, a clever and skewed picture of a particular world does emerge, inhabited by characters worth meeting.

Technical support, as usual, is by SamAnTha Schmitz, who handles backstage duties with skill.

-Sonya Ellingboe, March, 13, 2016 Douglas County News-Press