La Strega, in the simplest terms, tells the story of a kind-hearted, munificent, occasionally shrooomin’ woman, Filomina (Kelsey Chapman). Filomina explores both the woods and metaphysical puzzles with her friends Dextor (Tenley Schmida) a perspicacious deer haunted by grisly images of the future, Donna (Teresa Martuccio), a gargantuan giant-species with a heart more colossal than her stature, and Fate (Lauren Allen), an effervescent fairy. Aside from being a loving and sagacious friend, Filomina also exists as a somewhat otherworldly resource women in trouble—a phenomenon that is growing alarmingly common, as twitchy little Dextor often notes—like young Claudia (Meg Graham) whose violently brutish husband has sexually assaulted her and impregnated her against her will (an even more horrendous circumstance given the plethora of children the woman has already borne and cannot afford to feed). As one might expect, Filomina’s brand of help for women like Claudia, coupled with her living in solitude in the wilderness, catalyzes gossip and panic that the woman is a witch who has fornicated her allegiance to the devil.
This tragically familiar story—both in lore and, more conspicuously, in history—of women feared, vilified, slandered, and physically and emotionally brutalized because of their femininity, because of their difference or otherness, because they simply dare choose to live apart from men and society, is played out in La Strega in such a way that does not render the narrative overwrought or pedantically preachy. Much of this can be attributed to the abundant charm of the cast and the devotion to each role their respective characters each performer demonstrates. Tenley Schmida as Dextor is a particularly delightful example of this, with a performance that combines both adorably hilarious whimsy and direness in such a way that the poor creature’s condition and spirit are palpably poignant and endearing. Additionally, the parable in La Strega works so well because of the commitment to extremism on both ends of the spectrum of particular characters. The priest, played by a wonderfully venomous Joey Edgar, is so absurdly menacing and vitriolic, but in such a way that is true to the ludicrous hatefulness of patriarchal regimes (like the church and men in general). On the other end of things, Guenivere Morrow’s deliciously vengeful and cunning sea goddess Anguane is so wonderfully prone to elaborate violence and revenge that is not so reactionary as it is appropriately reflective of the torment and abuse levied against women for ages.
La Strega is also so divinely successful and enjoyable for the sheer amount of work that visibly went in to creating the show and, importantly, the experience of watching it. Watching a Glitterbox show is unlike most evenings at the theatre one will experience in Pittsburgh, and it is all the more enriching for that. Every moment of the show and every inch of the set and thread of the costumes exudes the heart of the labor that went into creating it. Glitterbox is grassroots, independent theatre at its most rapturously spunky, and La Strega is a premier example of the theatre at its best. Glitterbox co-owner Teresa Martuccio pulls off an astounding array of feats by writing, directing, starring in, and designing most of the set and costumes for the show. Her work passion for the piece is evident throughout, but particularly in her meticulous work on the props and costumes alongside her incredibly talented co-designers Amalia Kalisz, Stephanie Neary and Chris St. Pierre. The props and costumes of La Strega are not the elaborate, ostentatious props one might anticipate at a show, but instead are exquisitely crafted pieces that feel like the triumphant explosion of the most feverish creative minds. The design of La Strega is majestically innovative and engulfing, and the marvelous musical composition of Jeremy Mikush (and accompaniment by Mikush and Jim Price) couples perfectly.
The message of La Strega, and the sublimely wrathful final act, is as tragic and ire-invoking as it is necessary. Glitterbox finds itself yet again at the forefront of eccentric folk realism. Few theatres execute the wild environment and cutting social commentary that Glitterbox consistently provide—and the diligent work artists like Martuccio triumph in producing is incomparable—and La Strega is a hauntingly surreal addition to their standout repertoire.
La Strega had its final performance on December 4th.
Eva Phillips is celebrating her third year in Pittsburgh, third year writing for PGH in the Round, and twenty-seventh year not getting murdered (shockingly, despite all odds). She relocated to the brittle Steel City from Virginia to pursue her Masters in Literary and Cultural Studies at CMU (with a concentration in film theory and film criticism, and intersections with feminism and gender), and has spent the past few years in Pittsburgh cultivating her writing career, developing her blog https://www.tuesgayswithmorrie69.net/, raising two show cats, and widening her perspectives on the ever-evolving spectrum of theatre. She only has one Les Miserables tattoo out of her 32 tattoos, and she finds that morally reprehensible.
Categories: Archived Reviews