The 2020 Season at the Cloverdale Playhouse is themed “Seeing Through Different Eyes”.
Each of the titles selected explores the idea of looking at the world in new ways, walking in another’s shoes, or examining the world through the lenses of people who tend to be misunderstood or unacknowledged. The Quality of Life by Jane Anderson is about that and much more. Dinah and Bill, a devout, church-going couple from the Midwest are struggling to keep their lives intact after the loss of their daughter. Dinah is compelled to reconnect with her left-leaning cousins in Berkeley, California who are going through their own trials. Jeannette, an earthy, high-spirited woman, and her husband Neil have lost their home to a wildfire, and Neil is dying of cancer.
The two couples – one solidly on the left, the other resolute in their conservative Christian beliefs –
are made to confront their huge dissimilarities.
AND, BOY DO THEY! These characters find themselves navigating every difficult issue that divides them while desperately trying to connect to each other on common ground in order to cope with their different losses. They all need each other, though the reasons why aren’t clear from the beginning. Their extreme differences of beliefs and opinions threaten to drive a wedge that may create even more suffering, but the things that unite them are just as powerful, if not more so. As audience members, we may walk into this play firmly siding with one character or another, seeing ourselves steadfastly aligned with that person’s opinions. Yet, as the play progresses, the characters put cracks into our prejudices and arguments, just as they do with each other. Each character at times reinforces stereotypes of “the other” in our society, and just as quickly they break those stereotypes apart, either with incredibly compelling reasoning and support or complete contradiction.
This is also a play about the masks that we wear. Every character has deep, well-kept secrets or feelings buried so far down that they themselves don’t acknowledge them. We all want to protect ourselves from the truth at times, especially if the truth is painful. Watching the moments in the play- when someone’s mask starts to slip, when it is being held onto tightly with both hands, when someone begins to see through the words to what is going unsaid- it all makes for a powerful human drama (that also has some very funny moments!).
The masks are even written into the stage directions, set descriptions, and notes from the playwright!
On the first page of the script, Jane Anderson describes the set:
“The devastation is breathtaking. But an effort has been put into making the site not only livable,
but aggressively cheerful…”
And the actors are instructed:
“Both hosts and guests are doing their best to stay upbeat. No sorrowful pauses, please.”
In rehearsals, we have been talking a lot about the moments when we question whether the character is lying, either to themselves or the others, whether they are even aware of the moments of brutal honesty when they say things that their character, for the first time, admits as the truth. It is an incredible “Actor’s Playground”, this story. There is so much to unpack! What’s being said? Is it true? What’s going unsaid? Which cards are being held close to the chest here? Who’s showing their hand and why? What’s meaningful to us as the storytellers in this moment, and what is the audience learning for the first time?
In an upcoming blog installment, we will give you a glimpse into what we call “table-work” (which is one of my favorite parts of the process), where we discuss all of these questions and much more!
