Wilma’s ‘A Summer Day’ is a soft and somber ride through the choppy waters of grief and memory
Running through June 29, this is a rare chance to see a play by 2023 Nobel Prize winner Jon Fosse, who is often referred to as a modern day Ibsen.
At the opening night of Nobel Prize-winner Jon Fosse’s A Summer Day, the last show of the Wilma Theater’s season, co-artistic director Lindsay Smiling delivered an impassioned message for audiences in the preshow speech: “We will not be controlled, and we will not be silenced.”
Smiling’s words echo the galvanizing calls of other theater leaders gearing up for a battle as the federal government revokes funding for artistic organizations.
What followed was a soft and somber production that aims for similar emotional resonance but, despite best efforts, falls short.
On an ordinary summer day when a friend (Melanye Finister) pays her a routine visit, an Older Woman is called to reminisce about a not dissimilar day in her youth that changed the course of her life irrevocably.
We are transported back to the day in question, watching a younger version of the Older Woman (a nervously cheery Campbell O’Hare) become overcome with anxiety when her lover Asle (Jaime Maseda) takes out a rowboat to the waters near their home. He’s done this before, so much so that she assumes he prefers spending time on the water to being at home with her, but a sense of foreboding keeps her glued to the window and awaiting his return.
The Older Woman isn’t seeking answers for her grief or trying to uncover new details; she recalls everything with a sharp clarity. But she can’t stop the flood of haunting memories that keep her standing by the same window even today.
A Summer Day, in translation from its original Nynorsk by Sarah Cameron Sunde, presents a challenging blank canvas. Fosse is not prescriptive beyond the need of a living room with a window and a view to the water and is spare in his stage directions.
Wilma co-artistic director and production director Yury Urnov leans into the stylistic nature of the dialogue with dreamy sections of scenes delivered straight to the audience, while trying to achieve a balance with realistic interactions between characters.
Projections with pencil sketches of fish and boats by Kelly Colburn and brief puppetry (Ksenya Litvak) infuse whimsy and humor that is pleasing, but sits at tonal odds with the script. Similar production choices like this buoy the play to keep it from drowning in melancholy, but occasionally push too far and muddy the overall effect.
Misha Kachman’s set design, on the other hand, marries well with Fosse’s language. He mixes 2D constructions with 3D objects. The main playing space sits center stage with the flat façade of the house with a wide, open window, and lily pads of water and clouds with a raised maze of docks. A life-size rowboat sits in the shadows like a specter. Looming behind it all is a floor-to-ceiling black tarp that catches the warm lighting (Maria Shaplin) and delivers one of the most affecting and surprising visual effects of the night.
The Wilma is known for its daring visual constructions, and Kachman’s set continues that legacy.
The production is anchored by Krista Apple as the Older Woman. As she witnesses the events of that past day, the Older Woman charges forward into the darkness, and Apple maintains a steady hand in that journey. Even with the many series of repeated lines, she manages to breathe life into the text and draw out the depth of feeling.
Brett Ashley Robinson and Ross Beschler as a younger version of the Older Woman’s friend and the friend’s husband, respectively, likewise find levels that bring humanity and ease into what could be very stilted dialogue.
Despite the admirable performances, there is a fine film that separates us from the emotional heights the characters experience on stage.
Urnov and the team are in a tug-of-war with the language. Fosse’s script strives to show common human experiences. We are repetitious creatures, and we return again and again to ideas and phrases for any number of reasons — personal anxiety and grief, attempting to puzzle something out or find solutions, comforting a friend who needs familiar words.
Our silences are often charged, and Fosse understands this as well. But the dialogue and scene structure have a distancing effect that can prove insurmountable, keeping us from experiencing the same catharsis as the Older Woman.
Just because something is true-to-life, even an accurate representation of someone’s worst day, doesn’t mean it’s emotionally resonant or will stay with you after the house lights come up.
A Summer Day
(Community/Arts)
On an ordinary summer day, a friend visits a woman, who is then reminded of a similar day in her youth that changed the course of her life irrevocably. What follows is a trip down memory lane, battling waves, grief, and love.
⌚️ Through June 29,📍 265 S. Broad St. 🌐 wilmatheater.org
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