Editor’s Note: It’s always a great pleasure to have Peter Golub grace the pages of the Selective Echo blog. The young gifted writer and literary scholar from Salt Lake City recently reviewed the first of three readings highlighting new original plays by local playwrights as part of an ongoing collaboration between Plan-B Theatre and Meat and Potato Theatre. The theatrical laboratory project is led by Tobin Atkinson. The other readings are scheduled for April 14 and June 2 at 7 p.m. in the Studio Theatre of the Rose Wagner Center for Performing Arts. Tickets are free but must be reserved in advance and they go quickly, a testament to the substantial bounty of original writing talent in the Utah arts community. For more information, see here.

On March 10, the Plan-B Theatre Company and Meat and Potato Theatre, in a theatre laboratory project led by Tobin Atkinson, showcased two 25-minute plays, Self-Storage, written by Elaine Jarvik, and Stumped, written by Debora Threedy. The performances were part of the company’s Script-in-Hand Series, which is a kind of trial run for new work by up-and-coming and established playwrights. The venue was relaxed and informal, set in the small Studio Theatre at the Rose Wagner Performing Arts Center. First, the scripts were read by well rehearsed actors, and then the audience participated in a discussion about the work. All seats were full and the audience responded with enthusiasm to both performances.

In 2008, Elaine Jarvik participated in the Humana Festival of New American Plays, with the 10-minute play “Dead Right”, in which a husband and wife discuss their obituaries at the dinner table. “Dead Right” is a comedy in the Lawrence Stern vein. As Stern’s Tristram Shandy keeps running up against the problem “I am not yet born,” the couple in “Dead Right” contemplates their obituary even though “they are not yet dead.”

“Self-Storage” is also a comedy that works with the problem of planning for the future, and trying to reconstruct the past. The play takes place in a storage facility, and the dialogue is between two people, a man—Tick (Josh Thoemke)—and a woman—Rosie (Stephanie Howell). Tick is a doomsday scenario fanatic whose wife has kicked him out because of his obsessions about the end of the world. Tick uses his unit to store his end-of-the-world paraphernalia, which includes the book “Every Dismal Thing,” a loud speaker, and a tinfoil thermal suit designed to keep a person warm in the event a catastrophe occurs in winter and there is no heat. Rosie is a normal suburban housewife who is guarded, but is also ready to listen to Tick’s paranoid ramblings. She uses her unit to reconstruct the bedroom of her young son who was killed in a car accident. With humor and poignancy Jarvik juxtaposes Rosie’s real sadness caused by a quotidian event that occurred in the past against Tick’s hyperbolic fantasy projected into the future. Under the direction of Alexandra Harbold the play comes to life, with enjoyable performances from both Howell and Thoemke.

Thoemke does a good job of capturing Tick’s anxiety, caused by an obsession with saving the world through preparedness at the expense of alienating his wife and children, while Howell captures the tension inside Rosie’s mind. She always seems to be on the brink of abandoning Tick as he talks. Her normal reaction to a person like Tick would be to nervously smile and leave as soon as possible, but she doesn’t. She listens and from time to time finishes his sentences with humorous comments. When Tick names off the many possible disasters awaiting humankind, “nuclear war, EMPs, terrorism, bio-terrorism, chemical warfare, near Earth objects, rogue states, dirty bombs…” Rosie chimes in, “Locusts!” She even dons one of his tinfoil thermal suits upon his insistence. Her reciprocity leads Tick to believe that she, too, is concerned about the end of the world, and, in her acceptance of his “help,” she helps him feel less lonely in his hallucination.

But she also tries to bring him closer to reality. When Tick talks about being ready for an earthquake, she asks him if he is ready for a 9.0 earthquake, which makes him admit he is not. “When does it stop?” she asks almost pleadingly. Of course, she is not only asking Tick this question, but herself as well. Her shrine to her dead son is a secret that she keeps from her husband who believes it is time to move on.

“Stumped” is written by the more established playwright Debora Threedy, who is one of the two playwrights of Plan-B’s current production of “Wallace,” about authors Wallace Stegner and Wallace Thurman and which premiered at the Rose Wagner this month to favorable reviews. Like “Self-Storage,” Threedy’s play works with the themes of past trauma and the desire to do good in the future.

However, “Stumped” is the more cerebral of the two. (Threedy holds a professorship at the S.J. Quinney College of Law, University of Utah.) And emotionally, Threedy is more in the company of playwrights such as Lisa Loomer, Paula Vogel, and Caryl Churchill.

There are times when “Stumped” (deftly directed by Mark Fossen) produces that gut-wrenching feeling caused by the injustice inflicted by men of authority on the disempowered, in this case a young woman who has had a tubal ligation against her will.

The play consists of two dramatic spaces, one real and one imagined. In the real, a law student, Debora (Colleen Lewis), studies a Supreme Court case for her class. The imagined is Debora’s thought experiment about what would happen if the plaintiff, Linda (Deena Marie Manzanares), met with the defendant, the judge (Josh Thoemke), who issued the court order for Linda’s tubal ligation.

Threedy does a fine job of setting the dry judicial language of the case as it is in the book against the emotional desperate language of the women the case involves. Debora herself narrates the case as events unfold in her imagination. Linda demands answers from her mother (Stephanie Howell) and the judge. When she enters the judge’s office she calls herself “karma.” Debora wants the case to make sense, because she herself is studying to be a lawyer. As she says, “unfairness has always pushed my buttons.” She wants to believe that justice is fair despite evidence to the contrary.

In a way, “Stumped” and “Self-Storage” mirror one another. In “Self-Storage,” the probability of an apocalyptic catastrophe (future) is juxtaposed with the reality of a personal human catastrophe (past). In “Stumped,” a legal case from a law book (past) is juxtaposed with a young woman’s desire to do good in a system that seems unfair (future). Both work with two dramatic spaces which are in dialogue with one another, and, in both instances, one space is full of facts, statistics, and a desire to change the future and the other is full of loneliness, longing, and a desire to change the past.

As an audience we can appreciate both of these states. All of us have thought about putting on some sort of aegis, be it a lawyer’s suit or tinfoil thermal underwear, in order to not only make the world better for ourselves, but for our fellow human beings as well. Indeed, this theatrical laboratory is testing and finding compelling significant evidence of Anthony Neilson’s proposition that the playwright, unique among the community of writers, effectively masters an immediately valid and relevant forum “that truly captures the impression of our fragile and transient lives.” For example, these two readings reverberate in their contemporary connections to recent events. The volume of donations contributed to tsunami and earthquake relief is a testament to our desire to help others, but somehow it is never enough. No matter how much we all donated to Haiti none of us could have prevented the earthquake in Chile. As storytellers, these playwrights remind us just how ephemeral our sense of order and stability actually is.

Editor’s Note: Mark Alvarez has a first-hand account on the initial planning of the forthcoming Utah march for immigration reform. The event, scheduled for March 21, is taking shape.

Saturday at Centro Cívico Mexicano, 155 S. 600 W. in Salt Lake City, several hundred Latinos met for Rumbo a la reforma migratoria or working towards immigration reform. The subject was Utah’s role in the immigration debate. At the end, there was to be a vote on potential actions. After brief introductions, the community meeting went to the point.

A two-minute orientation indicated three priorities for immigration reform: 1. criteria for the legalization of undocumented immigrants, 2. more justice in the system and 3. more efficient and less costly processes.

Two questions were posed for participants: 1. What should the community do to improve immigration policy? 2. What is your personal role?

The meeting shifted to audience participation. The microphone was open. Every voice counted.

Speeches, including those of organizers, were limited to two minutes. Some people wrote commentaries on 3×5 index cards.

One card read in translation, “To whom it may concern, my name is Humberto [last name omitted] and my point of view is that all the people should support this type of meeting because all of us support a just reform for everyone. Personally, I exhort all people to support a march on 21 March. Yes, we can. [Telephone number omitted].”

More than thirty people spoke.

Ramiro, a seven-year-old, made plain an issue: “I can go to Mexico and come back. My father cannot.”

Jose said, “we are losing the game por goleada, by blowout, for failure to make our voices heard.” He later recommended five steps: 1. march to the Capitol on March 21, 2. meeting with members of Congress, 3. a no-buy day, 4. increased effort to inform and involve people and 5. another community meeting.

Alicia spoke in favor of a march with positive messages.

Georgia spoke about the urgency of reform and strongly encouraged the values of studiousness and hard work.

Ruben said the purpose of the meeting was to organize and to use a community voice: “we are people with dignity. We do not have to continue hiding.”

Gladys said, “I do not want to keep hiding. I agree with the march. We also need to study and do the best we can.”

Laura said, “we need these types of meetings for information. We ourselves need to make the difference.”

Johnny from Odgen talked about an organization that had essentially become dormant. He said, “It is time the organization became active again. It is time to stop being silent.”

Efrain spoke about the importance of learning English: “speaking English opens up many opportunities. It is necessary to learn English.”

Many others spoke in favor of learning English and in favor of showing that the Latino community was patriotic to the U.S. There was broad support for using the American flag exclusively.

After an hour, nobody had spoken against a march. People in the audience were encouraged to present a dissenting view. Nobody did.

Two hours into the meeting, people voted. Almost everyone stood up in favor of a march on March 21. Those who did not stood up for a demonstration at a fixed location.

Emi covered the fundamentals: “Enough with divisions among ourselves. This is a country of immigrants. We must stand up, and we must excel. I favor the march.”

Utahns will march on March 21 for just immigration reform. Tentatively, people will gather at City Hall in downtown Salt Lake City. The event will begin at 11 a.m. and include a march to and from the state Capitol. All are invited.

Editor’s Note: Mark Alvarez, an attorney and writer who is a regular contributor to The Selective Echo, is guest reviewer for Plan-B Theatre’s world production of “Wallace.” He attended the opening night performance.

Near the end of Plan-B Theatre’s ‘Wallace,’ Wallace Thurman stands on a wooden table surrounded by three chairs and a circle of yellow rejection letters. He declares, “I am a human—being.” Actor Carleton Bluford deftly blends a plea for understanding with an assertion of identity.

‘Wallace,’ from two scripts by Jenifer Nii and Debora Threedy, alternates and overlaps the stories of Wallace Thurman (1902-1934) and Wallace Stegner (1909-1993), both of whom spent much of their childhood in Salt Lake City. Thurman wrote, lived and died young at the core of the Harlem Renaissance. Stegner won prizes and fame for books and letters. Though Thurman and Stegner likely never met, Jerry Rapier cleverly directs their interaction on stage.

Wallace begins with the song “The Big Rock Candy Mountain” and its paradisiacal suggestions of lemonade springs, alcohol streams and endless sunshiny days. The novel “The Big Rock Candy Mountain” supplies much of the dialogue for the Stegner side of Wallace.

Childhood was rough for both Wallaces. Stegner became strong at the broken places while Thurman longed to leave Utah, a place in which there was a “devil on every inbound train” and where he felt among “black pioneers in a strange, white land.”

The first scene and interaction lay plain the contrast. Richard Scharine plays Stegner in his sixties. Stegner wears a white sweater with an Indian motif, sits alone at a table and discusses autobiography and fiction. He feels most comfortable at a typewriter. Scharine hews close to this theme and renders his side of Wallace a celebration of Stegner’s prose.

Carleton Bluford plays Thurman in his twenties. Thurman stands against a wall in darkness behind the table. He wears a sharp suit with suspenders. Thurman leaps onto the table in front of Stegner and sings “Fire!!.” His singing, movement and words evoke the Harlem Renaissance in which Thurman played an important role.

Near the middle of Wallace, Stegner pulls a book from the table and reads. Attention focuses entirely on words that combine with setting for beauty, insight and nostalgia. It becomes akin to a meditation. Stegner asks if we have come to paradise only to ruin it.

Thurman pulls “Fire!!” from the same table. “Fire!!” was published once during the Harlem Renaissance, a label Thurman challenges for lack of antecedent attention: “Had there been an interest in Negroes before and I missed it?” Thurman applies the term “Niggerati” to himself, Langston Hughes, Zora Neale Hurston and others who formed part of Harlem’s African-American literary movement. Thurman proudly called his house “Niggerati Manor.” It was a gathering place for writers and artists in Harlem. Alcohol streams flowed.

Thurman speaks against the idea of artists as representatives not of who people are but who they can be. He writes about prejudice among black people. He asserts a reality clearly uncomfortable given the yellow rejection letters and criticism from peers. Albeit uncomfortable, the reality is authentic. Equally authentic are the ever-present silver flask and the nagging cough, both of which contribute to Thurman’s early death.

Salt Lake City unites Thurman and Stegner. Both struggled through troubled youths here. Wallace Stegner once wrote, “I hunted the Big Rock Candy Mountain” because ”I wanted to hunt up and rejoin the civilization I had been deprived of.” Wallace Thurman sought “a dream city with wide-awake realities. Stegner gained wide readership and appreciation during his hunt. Thurman found a vibrant city, but he died young and largely unknown. Thurman and the actor who plays him deserve a look and appreciation through “Wallace.”

Because the world premiere run of “Wallace” has virtually sold out, a performance has been added on Sunday, March 14, at 5:30 pm. For ticket information, see here. More background about the show can be seen here from The Selective Echo.