| Arts
& Humanities
Theatre season opens with Guys on Ice
Once again Lake Superior Theatre (LST) raises the curtain on another
spectacular season. Since this was the summer that seemed a long
time in coming, it seems quite appropriate that the LST season
begins with Guys On Ice.
“Sitting outside in the freezing cold, building a little
nest for yourself…is the ultimate expression of the strange
Midwestern ethic,” says James Kaplan, coauthor of Guys on
Ice, a play set in a Wisconsin ice shanty that’s been performed
nationwide. Kaplan was amused by pictures taken this winter of
guys ice fishing in front of the Lake Superior Yacht Yard, home
of Lake Superior Theatre.
While Guys On Ice has been playing to sold-out audiences who love
the comedic musical, it is a new first for the play—being
performed on the shores of Lake Superior where ice fishing actually
happens each winter. This charming comedic musical directed by
Shelley Russell tells the story of two ice fishing buddies from
Northern Wisconsin who talk and sing about life, love and the
one that got away. With musical numbers like “De Wishing
Hole,” “Ode to a Snowmobile Suit” and “Fish
is de Miracle Food,” Guys on Ice will charm your wool socks
off.
It is a story every yooper can relate to, and it is surprisingly
touching. From their ice fishing shanty, longtime pals Lloyd and
Marvin keep warm with a mutual appreciation for good bait, cold
beer and the Green Bay Packers.
As Marvin waits anxiously for his opportunity to appear on a cable
TV fishing show and share secrets of his life “on da’
lake,” Lloyd ponders a recent squabble with his wife concerning
plans to spend their anniversary at Lambeau Field. Both pals scramble
to protect their cold ones from fellow angler, Ernie the Moocher.
The season continues with a celebration of the famous Anatomy
of A Murder, also directed by Shelley Russell, who has put together
an incredible cast that will make this a performance you won’t
want to miss. Does temporary insanity justify murder? And what
really did occur in the darkness of the great north woods. Come
along to find out as LST celebrates the anniversary of this cinematic
great with local connections.
What happens when you mix Shakespeare and Sci-Fi? You get Macsith.
From the adapter of last year’s blockbuster Treasure Island,
Orion Couling, comes a new adaptation of Shakespeare’s darkest
antihero. Follow General Monbeth down a road of darkness with
the forces of good in an evil clash with space battles, lightning
and light saber duels.
With performances for all age groups, this adventure is the perfect
introduction to Shakespeare for a young audience as well as a
fresh take for the seasoned Shakespeare lover. A new twist to
the LST season surfaces with MacSith; performances are at 7:30
and 10:00 p.m.
LST’s last play, in cooperation with Marquette Art &
Culture Center’s Youth Theatre program is The Orphan Train.
This wonderful story is moving, amusing and tellingly human of
nine orphans on an Orphan Train that left New York City on May
28, 1914 and traveled to Midwestern towns in search of homes for
the children. The lonesome whistle wails as the train chugs between
encounters of anxiety, laughter, wistfulness, rejection and acceptance.
Eight stories unfold, each a memorable surprise.
The Orphan Train is a charming heart-warmer, and LST will bring
this historical event to life through the Upper Peninsula’s
connections to the Orphan Train. LST also will collaborate with
Child and Family Service in this production as they celebrate
ninety years of working to help children and families.
Each year, LST receives rave reviews from visitors who have come
to a performance, perhaps docking their boats in the Cinder Pond
Marina or attending a family reunion. One attendee expressed delight
that the waters that lap against the theatre rippled with such
fabulous strains of music and laughter. Others say despite its
decidedly rustic appearance, they were amazed at the excellent
sound system and acoustics, air conditioning and wheelchair accessibility.
One patron suggested that she attends theatre in large cities
and wondered whether LST would measure up, but she was pleasantly
surprised to find the spectacular talent showcased within the
walls. She also was thrilled that her husband enjoyed spending
the evening in a working boathouse containing marine artifacts.
And always those who stroll or bike to the theatre along the waterfront
are caught up in the dramatic views.
This year, LST has devoted considerable resources to the building
of a new multi-level permanent stage as well as a long awaited
elevation of the rear of the theatre that will enhance the experience.
This is a time filled with economic challenges that keep us all
on edge. Now, more than ever, we need to laugh and remember that
getting pleasure from the arts is an important way of dealing
with the stress we all face.
The magic of Lake Superior Theatre is in the variety of live theatre
fun it brings to Marquette with its amazing talent and artistry.
Welcome back to those who know and love this quaint venue on Lake
Superior and a special welcome to those of you who have decided
this year is the year you will experience this unique artistic
oasis. The board, directors, cast, crew, donors and incredible
volunteers keep the magic alive year after year and present and
preserve the past.
Tickets are $15 for adults, $12 for seniors and $7.50 for those
eighteen and younger. Discounted season tickets and group sales
are available. Tickets are available by calling 227-7625 or visiting
www.lakesuperiortheatre.com
—Peggy Frazier
U.P. poet writes of film,
family and life
The Child Who Loved Movies
By L.E. Ward
Upper Michigan poet and Iron River native, L.E. Ward, is a two-time
Pulitzer nominee (in 1992 for criticism and in 1999 for poetry).
When one reads his poems, it’s easy to see why his work has
received such attention.
Born in Iron River in 1944, Ward has written several volumes of
poetry, including The Collected Poems and The Land Within. As
a movie critic and writer, he has published 1,000 long and short
articles on American film history in numerous film periodicals,
as well as been published in newspapers, magazines, poetry anthologies
and encyclopedias. His poetry consists of a variety of themes,
including memoirs of his childhood, gay Eros, the ancient world,
the movies, the arts and literature, the lives of writers and
other artists, world paintings and painters and human rights.
In The Child Who Loved Movies, a touch of each of those themes
is present, but the predominant theme is that of his childhood
in the 1940s and 1950s, engrossed in a cinematic world and recalling
the comfort of those years with his parents. Both middle-aged
readers and movie buffs will be enthralled with Ward’s memories
as well as his fascination with films that have lived in his head
for more than half a century, influencing his thoughts and verse.
The opening poem of The Child Who Loved Movies is titled “Christmas
1944-54,” and while it recalls the joys of the typical Christmases
of his childhood, such as “The two books of carols, which
briefly emerged/annually from the piano bench, on seasonal parole.”
And “The Little Golden Book and the Whitman Paperback”
as well as the usual Christmas decorations, what Ward wants us
most to do is:
Remember that all that ever matters
Is the human—what is experienced,
perceived, and felt.
Remember in all the world of ice and cold,
The house where parents were,
where it was warm.
Ward has a tremendous sense of the value of his family. While
many modern poets rage for line after line about their dysfunctional
upbringings, Ward continually recalls the warmth of his childhood.
While he writes endlessly about films and the pseudo-heaven created
by Hollywood in his youth, as an adult he notes, “Little
did I know that that innocent childhood/With my parents was the
true heaven,” and now he realizes “the presence of parents
and home—/a heaven long vanished.”
In a poem “To Louisa May Alcott,” he feels the warmth
that Alcott created in her novels, and the loss that happy world
eventually brought because everything passes away; “everything’s
on loan.” He is especially grateful for his mother as he
states in passages, such as “I wish I could say how great
she was” and “She is always there in all my feelings.”
Comparing life to a train ride, he writes of his grandparents,
“I never chose the journey/Yet I miss the old special passengers.”
Ward wears his heart on his sleeve, but he never crosses the line
into being overly sentimental. It is refreshing that there are
poets who still write about warmth of heart and home and appreciation
for the past. And while Ward is aware others might not understand
why he stayed at home—he lived with his parents almost all
his life, except a few years when he taught, returning in 1970
when his father died, to live with his mother until her death
in 1999, one cannot help but appreciate that a son would be so
devoted to the two people so devoted to him.
Second only to his parents was the influence of movies upon Ward’s
life. He continually mentions going to films with his parents
at the Delft Theatre in Iron River—he provides a photograph
of the theatre in the back of the book along with pictures of
himself and his family. It’s easy to understand how films
had such an impact on him when he grew up in the golden age of
Hollywood. At times, he allows himself to envision meeting the
great movie stars. He writes poems of conversations he has with
Marilyn Monroe after her death. He dreams of being friends with
Roddy McDowall; as an adult, he wrote a movie tribute to McDowall,
for which the actor thanked him.
To Ward, movies are a glorious invention.
I clocked years by them
Age nine, my favorite year
They came and went.
(Like the days; themselves).
The August evening, company left.
Scandal At Scourie was playing Monday;
Followed by Ride Vaquero, on Tuesday.
Movies were something Ward felt he owned, something he was as
invested in as were the stars, directors and producers themselves:
“Hollywood existed not only in estates and front offices,/but
in the comfort it brought to/lonely little people, making their
lives less ordinary.”
Ward is aware that film does not always depict life realistically,
but rather than let himself be disillusioned, as is the case with
the title of Manuel Puig’s novel, Betrayed by Rita Hayworth,
Ward unashamedly declares, “Hooray for the courage/and idealism,
films have given through the years.” He is not in denial
that films provide an enhanced version of life, as when he writes
of, “Doris Day in April in Paris—/in an April, more
April than April—/more Paris than Paris.” And of the
Disney films of his childhood, he says:
Alice, Cinderella, Peter Pan, Pinocchio, Snow White,
Who, with a heart and mind, would not identify with them?—
Young, beautiful, innocent, idealistic.
They do not betray us. Time and life betray us.
Childhood leaves, and parents die,
And we pull the drapes and lock the door.
But they live, anyway, somehow inside us
Where each song they sang to us
Still sings in us and will sing in us,
forever-more.
L.E. Ward’s poems speak of a better world. He perhaps glosses
over the pain in life, the romance that never came, his being
misunderstood by others, but he predominantly chooses to focus
on what was good in life. Although he never mentions the film
Man of La Mancha, no doubt he would agree with Peter O’Toole’s
character, Don Quixote, when he says, “Maddest of all is
to see life as it is and not as it should be.”
In one of the last poems of The Child Who Loved Movies, Ward states,
“And in my poems those I loved, live/may their memory survive
forever-more—” and of his mother, clearly the greatest
influence on his life:
Mother was my chauffeur, companion,
Confidante, and best friend.
We faced fate, the weather,
the fickleness of nature, politics, relatives, people, ignorance
and prejudice,
together for decades.
She left life at age 90—
a year and a half after
She broke her hip—
certain she’d be forgotten.
As if she could ever be, by me,
or ever has been.
Ward reminds us of what is good in individuals, in the human
spirit, and how it is reflected in film, art and literature. He
makes us think and see the world in a better light; he asks us
to hold onto what is memorable, and he leaves us nostalgic, but
happy. What more can a poet hope to accomplish?
—Tyler Tichelaar
Editor’s Note: Tichelaar is the author of The Marquette
Trilogy. All books reviewed in this column are available in local
and online bookstores.
|
