A second musical in a mere matter of days, but Penelope serves other ends than the big-ticket Come From Away. It is small, intimate, and personal, a one-woman performance based on Penelope, wife of Odysseus. Penelope is the one left behind when Odysseus goes off, first to war, then on his adventurous perambulations to get back home. Homer presents her as the prize at the end of the journey, but she is also just as cunning as her husband. Most notable is her putting off her would-be suitors by weaving her mourning shroud in the day, and unraveling it again in the evening. But she is all that and more.
Chelsea LeValley is Penelope, and Penelope waits. She worries, fusses, prays, runs the city, bats away the oafish suitors, rages, raises a son, longs for her lost mate, and sustains. LeValley pulls it all off not only with an incredibly strong voice but through her physical actions - weaving, prostrating herself before the gods, and ranging from angry challenges to residing in the single chair in the center of the stage, a small table with a decanter of whiskey and a single glass. LeValley is one of the most gifted singers I've heard at the Arts West, which regularly does musical shows, and she dominates her material and her character's emotions.
She is literally backed up by on-stage musicians at the back of the stage, dressed in black, that serve as the Greek (of course) chorus and the voice of the goddess when she confronts the deities that have denied her news of her husband. Consisting of violin (Amanda Spires), Viola (Lauren Hall), Cello (Kumiko Chiba) and Drums (Mitchell Beck), and led by Music Director/Artistic Director Matthew Wright on the keyboards, they are ever-present and but reserved, letting LeValley take command of the proceedings.
The songs themselves are clear, emotional and emotive. They have a folk-pop quality to them that verges on country, and LaValley's delivery feels grounded and midwestern. Accessible. She rolls through her emotions and uncertainties in every song, as she makes her way to her own fulfillment. The songs vary through the spectrum of emotions, an LaValley delivers every note perfectly.
Penelope's domain is a raised circular stage in the center of the room, with stairs leading off at the third-points. The theatre put small tables around it, creating a cabaret feel as LeValley descends and wanders among the audience. There's a problem there, in that the tables (and their occupants) blocked the front rows of the audience, a lot. A small woman sitting next to me was totally stage-blocked by a very tall man at a table in front of her. I offered the woman my seat and clambered over the back of the seats to a higher, empty perch (The Lovely Bride, seated next to my original position, had a perfect seat, front row center with no one in front of her).
The stage was relatively bare, giving LaValley the space she uses to the fullest, the musicians lined against a backdrop that both reminded me of a Maxfield Parish print and a Jeff Easley underpainting. Her gown matched the rich copperish browns of the backdrop, signifying it as Penelope's land. Before the performance, there is the audio of the waves crashing on the rocks beneath Penelope's home, reminding us both of the proximity of her husband and his distance.
The plot does not follow the plot of the Odyssey save in its initial situation - this is Penelope's story, not her husband's. She is no prize to be won, but rather her own fully-formed character. Her story is about the emptiness of loneliness and the unknown fate of a loved one. It reminded of me when I have, twice now, left the Lovely Bride to join a company far away from her, leaving her to manage everything behind me as I went off to new adventures. Kate loved the performance, and I liked it a lot.
Penelope is about a woman, waiting, but also about a woman, sustaining, and discovering her inner strength against the fates and the gods and the emptiness in her bed and her life. Well worth attending.
More later,
