Using Malvina Reynolds' folk songs, poetically nail the COVID era to all claustrophobia, futility, and accusations of others.
At the beginning of Shotgun Players' The Cassandra Sessions: Recording This World (from Ashby Stage to January 2nd, stream to January 6th) something quite strange happened. In fact, it happened before the show officially started. Cassandra (Beth Wilmurt) of the same name walks onto the black box stage in a small recording studio, which is a bit like a dog cage in a pet shop. She started playing her ukulele trying to find the correct note. She occasionally leaned in front of the microphone and asked if she could hear it.
This can be partly attributed to well-trained theater audiences who don’t want to disturb the performers once they are on stage. However, I couldn't help but notice that her voice was easily drowned out by the customers sitting around me. Here, she tried to share some personal things with a large group of people who were unwilling to give her time while she was sitting in front of them. If it's not hitting a nail on the head outside the door, I don't know what it is.
The curtain was lifted, the lights came on, and our performance began. The aforementioned Cassandra-he may or may not be an unwilling oracle in Greek mythology, cursed to accurately predict the future, but his predictions have been ignored-in a recording of Malvina Reynolds Song covers on the booth. Her only contact was with a lone producer or studio engineer (Jack Rodriguez), a barely visible figure whose voice was technically helpful, but it was annoyingly condescending.
Time has never been clear. The wiring on the left side of the stage of the studio is from the 1970s, the microphone and keyboard suggest that the 80s, the CRT TV on the trolley is definitely the 90s, and Cassandra's iPhone is modern. However, her choice of costumes and songs seems to suggest an era decades ago. Again, this is Berkeley.
If you don’t know, Malvina Reynolds is a SF-born singer-songwriter and activist, you must have heard her songs, even if you don’t know who is singing them. Do you know that the theme song of Showtime's Weeds is the song about "The Little Box on the Hillside"? That's a song about Daly City sung by Reynolds. Do you know the song "What did they do to rain"? That was Reynolds composing an anti-nuclear song. I can continue, but if you are reading this article, you are already on the Internet and there are many places to view it. She uses her music to comment on the world, and she doesn't like the direction it is heading.
Why is Cassandra recording a cover of the song here? This is not entirely clear. If she is really the Cassandra of mythology, maybe she has something to do with Reynolds's contempt for the way the world develops. Maybe she saw it in the late Reynolds—he appeared in a documentary in an interval between songs—a like-minded person whose accurate prediction was also rejected?
Every tax-deductible donation helps us grow to cover the most important issues for our community. Become 48 Hills Hero and support the only source of daily progress news in the Bay Area.
Or maybe Cassandra's love of Reynolds' music kept her awake when confined to a space. Although the song "Little Boxes" is not used in the play (unless Reynolds himself hums the song in the above documentary clip), it is hard not to think of it when the protagonist spends most of the time in the play. , Well, a small box. Outside the box, an audience who might ignore her and the complaint of a man were so instinctive that she read the entire song in his lengthy abuse.
When she is not recording, she will stop recording and start again, or she is drinking. No matter what time it intends to happen, this is the work of the COVID era. The content is to observe a crazy world from your little box, but there is nothing you can do. Without abundant entertainment options, we have all lost it now. (Some of us did it anyway.)
Through all these plotless experiences, Wilmert acts as Cassandra's naturalistic performance. Usually limited to a claustrophobic scene, she occasionally changes clothes, and she knows that this is not a character that requires an operatic level. Quite the opposite: Reynolds's music is sung by everyone, not power masters. Similarly, a drama featuring her music needs to be performed by someone who is sufficiently synchronized with the lyrics to avoid overburdening her vocal cords. This was when someone we felt comfortable approached us and asked us to sing together, which finally happened.
Cassandra Sessions arrived at a strange moment: the world slowly reopened to the pandemic that robbed us of leisure, but the new Omicron variant reminds us that we are not out of the predicament yet. The show is not the kind of show that sells gifts to a large crowd in the lobby, but it has a lingering influence that is hard to get rid of. It is eternal at its best, and it is something desperately needed when time feels static.
CASSANDRA Conference: Recording the world's live broadcast on the Ashby Stage of Shotgun Players in Berkeley on January 2nd, and lasts until January 6th. More information and tickets are here.
48 Hills welcomes comments in the form of a letter to the editor, you can submit it here. We also invite you to join our conversations on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram.
48hills.org is the official publication of the non-profit San Francisco Progressive Media Center.
We are journalism supported by the community. become member.
Best of the Bay Bay Guardian Archives Shopping Cart
Become a member Newsletter Advertising Privacy Policy Contact