Playwright: Roslyn Alexander. At: ShPIel Performing Identity at Stage 773, 1225 W. Belmont Ave. ( June 4-22 at Skokie Theatre, 7924 Lincoln Ave., Skokie ). Tickets: 773-327-5252; Article Link Here ; $28. Runs through: June 22
The long and complicated life of Emma Goldman—dubbed "Red Emma" by fans and foes alike—is not easily summarized in the restricted environment of modern drama. The adventures of the woman celebrated for her championing of Anarchist manifestos spans three continents, two husbands, a veritable gallery of lovers, and at least two jail sentences, followed by a deportation order.
We meet our heroine in "the sleepy fishing village" of St. Tropez, making the date 1931, well before her final years. After dismissing her offstage companion, she expresses surprise at confronting members of the press ( that's us, by the way ), but graciously consents to grant us an interview, anyway, occasionally referring to a box of cards listing FAQs collected from her many public appearances.
So far, so good—but Goldman's account swiftly assumes a pattern of resolute declarations immediately dissolving into rueful tears sparked by bad memories, quickly changing to nostalgic smiles at the fond ones. Her roughly chronological memoir quickly gives way to a swirling hodgepodge of anecdotal names, places and events, largely bereft of antecedent information: a dizzying array of lecture tours and trips abroad are noted, some consequential, some not. Characters are introduced for three sentences and are never heard from again. The identities of her many paramours become blurred as Goldman preens for her protector of the moment, only to hastily profess her devotion to another ( mostly her imprisoned mentor, Alexander Berkmann—or "Sasha," as his disciple calls him ). We aren't even told where her host, attorney Harry Weinberger, disappears after inviting us to invade his exiled client's privacy. Did he go for a stroll on the beach?
Roslyn Alexander, in her capacity as a performer, has been a favorite of Chicago audiences for more years than it would be gallant to count, but in choosing to portray her subject as a romantic in the Colette mode, she leaves us with the uncomfortable impression of Emma Goldman as the besotted consort of wealthy men who exploited her charismatic zeal to further their own idealistic causes ( albeit stopping short of strapping her into a bomb vest ).
Director Dennis Zacek lends his expertise to the piles of extensive research not yet arranged along clear narrative lines, and will likely continue to do so throughout the run. When viewing a biographical play, it's always gratifying to discover that the author has done her homework. What's disappointing is to also discover that she hasn't written the play yet.
