1. The Fatty Arbuckle Spook House Revue,
Annex Theatre (Summer 1992)
The first full flowering of the Chris Jeffries/Allison Narver collaboration:
Gorgeous songs, campy performances with a dark underside, spectacle achieved
through sheer dynamism and ingenious economy. Big Cheap Theater at its best;
members of the cast are now running theaters across the country, as well as
cropping up in film and television.
2. Women Behind Bars
Re-bar (Winter 1993)
Women Behind Bars wasn’t the best thing to ever appear at Re-bar, but it was the first–and after it came Greek Active, Dina Martina, David Schmader’s Letter to Axl and Straight, Kevin Kent’s Sister Windy, and Hedwig & the Angry Inch. Re-bar has housed an astonishing and vibrant variety of camp, comedy, and raucousness. Simply the most consistent performance space in Seattle.
3. The True History of Coca-Cola in Mexico
Rm 608 (Summer 1993)
Writer/performers Patrick Scott and Aldo Velasco (under Andy Jensen’s direction)
ran around pulling wigs on and off, slipping in and out of funny voices, in
the process telling a tale that fused personal experience and political analysis
(with a glorious celebration of Mexican soap operas to boot). True History was later produced all over the country.
4. again
Rm 608 (Fall 1994)
Kristen Kosmas had already made a splash with blah blah fucking blah,
but her second kaleidoscopic monologue was an even bigger explosion of images
and raw emotions. Kosmas performed again only a handful of times, but
it lives on in the memories of everyone who saw it.
5. Mourning Becomes Electra
Greek Active at Velvet Elvis Arts Lounge (Fall 1994)
This high-voltage camp romp through Eugene O’Neill was Greek Active’s pinnacle:
When Charles Smith shot a bible out of Stephen Hando’s hand, the entire audience
gasped in delight, proving that “deconstruction” and “fucking funny” are not
mutually exclusive.
6. blueStory
the Compound (Spring 1995)
Though drawing on an experimental vocabulary from the Wooster Group and Richard
Foreman, this ensemble never simply replicated these techniques; from this opening
show (written and directed by Kristin Newbom) to Coated: Between the Tigris
and Euphrates and Alles Warpenwuferweft, the Compound twisted every
element of theater into their own image.
7. Our Tow
Velvet Elvis Arts Lounge (Spring 1995)
Derek Horton’s Cat-Like Tread has rabid fans (and rabid foes), but this
earlier Horton production (a fusion of Thornton Wilder, musical numbers about
amphibians, and the Theater of Cruelty) had all of the maverick director’s divisive
trademarks: astounding choreography, lurid sexploitation, gut-wrenching juxtapositions
of images–all of which disintegrate into an ungodly mess by the end of the
show. Frustrating? Yes. Forgettable? No.
8. The Master and Margarita
theatre simple (Fall 1997)
Gradually honed through relentless touring, this ensemble-generated production
(tightly directed by Rachel Katz Carey) deftly weaves together multiple story
lines and metaphysical romance with vigorous hands-on theatrics.
9. Hedda Gabler
Printer’s Devil Theater (Fall 2000)
After an iffy Seagull, Printer’s Devil justified turning to the classics
with this riveting, stripped-down version of Ibsen, demonstrating how an ensemble
of actors working together consistently can build an emotional synergy that
no ordinary rehearsal process can replicate.
10. Cymbeline
Intiman Theatre (Spring 2001)
The most surprising and exciting show at any of the “professional” theaters
during the entire existence of The Stranger. Significantly, this wild
collision of Japanese umbrellas, cowboy ballads, and iambic pentameter sprang
from the talents of an artistic director who’d cut his teeth in the rough-and-tumble
“fringe” theater world, rather than going straight from grad school into the
regional Equity theater circuit–a trend on the rise in Seattle. With Bart Sher
at the helm of Intiman, Allison Narver at the Empty Space, and Chay Yew at Northwest
Asian American Theatre, the next decade on Seattle’s professional stages could
be very different–and much less predictable–than the last.