Shakespeare in love ... again

Weaving in historical fact with his own fiction, Mason explores the life of a probable candidate for this lady, Lucy Morgan (Miriam Camara '10). The story introduces her as the only black woman in the court of Queen Elizabeth I (Heather May '10). Lucy Morgan is cared for like a daughter by the Queen, and the play follows her as she throws adolescent tantrums, falls in and out of love with Shakespeare (Paul Bangiola '11, the only male character in the play) and ends up a brothel owner, as cynical about men as the Virgin Queen herself.

But "Orange Woman: A Ballad for a Moor" tries to be much more than the epic tale of an unfortunate heroine, as Mason relentlessly drowns the script with symbols. He spends so much time in metaphors that the characters' development is, somewhat unfairly, simplified. Lucy acts the way she does because she has "orange" inside of her - the color symbolizing her passion - not because she is a complex and interesting human being. Some historical realism is also lost. I would have liked to know what life must have been like for a black girl in Elizabethan England, but Mason gives us no information about her status, other than, of course, the symbolic nature of the color black. It's a pity that this constantly stylized language, which seems somewhat unrealistic, takes away from a play that could really be quite superb.

Indeed, the production itself is remarkable. The costumes are exquisite, particularly the velvet and silk gown that Queen Elizabeth wears in the first scene. This element alone makes the entire play worth the cost of admission. The set design is simple but cleverly done, especially the wooden frame that the actors look through, giving the illusion that they are looking into a mirror.

There is also some interesting choreography, and Camara, though sometimes too shrill as an actress, is a very talented dancer, giving validity to Shakespeare's claim that Lucy's dance is "spirited." These dancing scenes may have been my favorite parts of the play, as they mark the points when the characters, throwing off the burden imposed upon them by society, embrace the wildness within. The tension between the characters' inner passion and the calm demeanor that they try to maintain creates an interesting dynamic throughout the play. Particularly, during the moments when action is suspended, an orange light shines and Congo drums play. Since the main character, Lucy Morgan, is black and presumably of African descent, such scenes are reminiscent of her heritage, which is suppressed by the upright lifestyle dominant in Elizabethan England.

The idea of dancing is excellent, but the scenes are rendered overly weighty by the forced symbolism of Lucy's "inner orange." It would be much more compelling if the audience were able to enjoy the dances for what they are.

With "Orange Woman: A Ballad for a Moor," there are so many double meanings behind every scene, word and gesture that it's almost nerve-wracking to try to figure it all out. The excessive symbolism distracts the audience from the plot of the play. Indeed, it became impossible to focus on the struggles of the characters, and ultimately, I gave up, preferring to watch the scenes unfold rather than interpret what Mason was trying to say. The real tragedy here is that I'm sure there are some brilliant things that I missed.

Paws: 3

Pros: Beautiful scenery, costumes and set design, good dancing, talented actors.