6 as ONE

How The Show Must Go On For Buntport Theatre

Sarah Carney

I went to the ballet once. There were several dancers on stage all at once, gracefully leaping through the air, weaving in and out of rows of each other, creating a moving painting. At times the dancers would use each other as props, intertwining their legs and moving around, mimicking each other's moves with such precision, it seemed they could predict time. Everything had the feeling of synchronicity.

I was reminded of this ballet when I met the six members of Buntport Theater, although their leaps may not be as graceful, and they may or may not be wearing tights. The way they interacted with each other-- finishing each other's sentences and feeding off each other for laughs-- reminded me of the dancers, only with slapstick instead of pirouettes, more like the ballet meets The Three Stooges. Either way, these six individuals work together with such ease and fluidity, it seems like they've been performing together for decades.

The group consists of: Erin Rollman, who seems to be the ringleader of sorts; Erik Edborg, who plays the grumpy old man persona with ease; Brian Colonna, a jolly and bashful fellow; Matt Petraglia, the mad scientist; SamAnTha Schmitz, the newest member of the troupe; and Hannah Duggan, who hates everything but loves to smoke. They are all drama graduates of The Colorado College in Colorado Springs, and have recently moved to Denver in search of a home for their experimental theater group. Wait, I stand corrected: Petraglia has a degree in biochemistry, but I am told the only thing he does with it now is interpret the various ingredients on Red Bull nutrition labels.

So, after playing the real estate game in Denver for a while, they finally signed a lease in February on a space they consider to be perfect. It is a large warehouse space located at 717 Lipan St., which they plan to turn into a black box theatre. Right now they talk about leaving the space as a blank slate so they can host-- as well as perform themselves-- as many different types of theatre as there are out there.

"Right now everyone is really crazily excited about having a home," Colonna said. "Because we are doing original work, it's hard to get into places and create a show in the space. People have seasons booked and they don't really have scheduled rehearsal time for you."

Up until this point the group has been performing on the road at various schools and fringe festivals in the United States and Canada.

"We didn't start out trying to make a theater company. We just started out making a show," Rollman said. "And then we didn't have anything else to do."

The original members came together in the summer of 1998 to put together a production called Quixote, which was done entirely with chalkboards for props-- scene changes were all drawn in with chalk. Two people who resemble Don Quixote and Sancho Panza when they stand next to each other-- Colonna who is on the shorter side and Edborg who is tall and lanky-- inspired the idea.

The group uses a collaborative process to create all its shows. Each member takes part in every aspect of putting together a production, from the designing and constructing of the set, to the costumes, script writing, lighting, sound, and directing. Some have stronger areas of interest than others. For example, Rollman seems to be the best speller, so she is usually nominated to write the final scripts. They all agree that Matt is the master electrician. Hannah, on the other hand, stuck out her tongue and made a "blecch" sound when asked about her electrical interests.

"It is a virtually democratic system with decision making, which can be frustrating," Rollman admitted. "There are times when you feel a bit like a Nazi if you start making orders. The reason we work this way, though, and why I think it's important, is because even though you don't come to the table with the same ideas, by the time the show is up, everyone understands exactly where it's from. We're all on the same page conceptually."

"And from an acting standpoint, I think it is easier because you don't have to decipher what the director wants out of a scene," Edborg said with his very serious face.

"You really are a pawn, you are another thing on stage that is going through somebody else's vision," Rollman agreed. She remembers times when she had read scripts how directors wanted them read, but wasn't happy with the outcome. "You just end up feeling sucky about what you're doing," she said as she wrinkled up her nose in a look of discomfort or disgust, I'm not sure which.

"So at least..." Rollman started to add, but paused, looking up and squinting thoughtfully through her glasses. Colonna jumped in and finished for her. "So at least we all feel sucky together." At that everyone around the room was bouncing with pent-up laughter. "Yeah, we feel sucky about every aspect of it, not just the acting," chimed a voice that was undistinguishable amidst the snickering group. This was just one of the many outbursts that I witnessed during my time with Buntport.

As everyone calmed down and Rollman tried to refocus, she said, "Now that we have a physical place, though, I think a lot of things could have the potential to change."

The group just finished up the construction for a production called 2 in 1: A night of original one acts, which it is performing at the Phoenix Theatre until April 1. The show consists of two unrelated scripts performed by Rollman, Edborg, Duggan and Colonna. The first act, titled "... and this is my significant bother," is a collection of nine short stories written by James Thurber revolving around the trials and tribulations of married life. The second act, titled "Word-Horde," is the newest of Buntport's shows and is performed by the same four actors. It is a dramatization of the CliffsNotes version of the epic poem Beowulf. They use a slap-stick approach to translate these quick-fix semi-educational tools.

I was with them for their opening night performance. They were all wound up, nothing at all like I had seen in rehearsal. They were already in costume when I arrived, and bouncing around up on stage. The girls start the show in slips and their hair tied back with those '40s mesh hairnets. They are also wearing stockings. The two boys were similarly dressed-- not wearing stockings, but they both had on white undershirts. Colonna wore blue pajama bottoms and Edborg wore brown slacks that looked just like my grandfather's. There is only one prop that is used for different scenes throughout the show-- a large bed with an iron headboard on which there are several layers of blankets.

The two girls immediately jumped under the covers; the theater was a bit chilly and they were in slips and stockings. You could tell they were really excited because they both had this look in their eyes: fear, panic, anxiety É but calm, too. Edborg and Colonna were off to the left performing some other skit, or maybe they were just goofing off. It's hard to tell. They both had their bellies puffed out and hanging over their belts, as if they had been working on their beer guts all their life. Edborg was bent over slightly at his waist and was walking slowly and muttering something. Just working out some last minute jitters. Colonna walked over to the girls and asked if everyone was wearing their rings (the show's characters are all married), which set the two girls off into conversation about the size of their diamonds and whether or not platinum was more expensive than white gold, just as two newly engaged women would.

"Are you off in one of your fake conversations again?" Edborg asked with a roll of his eyes. He can make the most dramatic faces.

You could hear people slowly filtering in. Duggan tilted her ear toward the door: "Ooh ... it sounds like there's a lot of people here." At that, Edborg made his way to the top row of audience chairs and tried to peek through the curtains into the lobby, like a little child trying to sneak a look at something he's not supposed to.

A few more paces around the room and then the lights went down. Colonna and Edborg joined the girls in bed and situated themselves in a boy-girl order with their left hands out on the bedspread.

"I'll see you guys after the show," Colonna said, snickering a little. It only took a few moments of giggling and muffled chatter before they settled into their roles of sleeping couples.

I thought about things that were revealed to me earlier about the actors' weaknesses, and wondered if any of those things would surface as the night progressed. Colonna, for example, is notorious for altering his lines in the middle of a show.

"What I call trying something different, they call forgetting my lines," Colonna said in his defense.

Duggan is the one with the contagious laughter. "I don't have a problem controlling my laughter unless I am looking at Hannah," Edborg said with a smile. Duggan, of course, laughs.

The audience was now seated, and the show started. Buntport does all its set adjustments while the lights are turned down low. Two actors will move their one prop either by swinging it around, tearing away one of the sheets, or breaking down the headboard each time, using its pieces as props.

In the first story, the flailing Mr. Monroe attempts to valiantly fight a bat in order to impress his off-stage wife. He hides under the covers and uses a throw pillow to ward off the beast that is "scraping the covers." In another story, a couple has vivid imaginary arguments that were sparked by a magazine advice column. The better half that is having the day-dream has a counterpart behind them who pops up from behind the bed to act out the skit.

The bed becomes a courtroom when a wife appears before a judge in a divorce court, complaining that her husband has a habit of holding his breath. "He looks like a perfectly swollen eye-popping goop."

They move a few pillows around on the bed and throw in an ashtray, and now the bed has turned into the vinyl interior of a car, and another couple is out for a not-so-pleasant Sunday drive. Flip a switch and now there are headlights, and the bed is used as the exterior of a car, and the couple is trying to settle an argument about whether a man's eyes would shine like a dog's in headlights. The bed even conceals a trap door that leads down to the cellar.

Then, in the final scene, the bed is re-made while a wife is confronting her husband's mistress. The act is choreographed in such a way that the feeling of the ballet comes back to me, the dancers weaving in and out of each other in fluid movements.

The second act maintains a lot of the same comic relief, but on a much more physical note. Duggan, Colonna, Edborg, and Rollman wear black-and-yellow jumpsuits with tool belts donned with black-and-yellow CliffsNotes stripes. The props are made entirely of paper, and the show combines the old with the new by adding sound bytes from The Little Mermaid and "Puff the Magic Dragon." In one scene, the actors pretend they are sports commentators, unfolding the events of a fight between Beowulf and Grendel. When Grendel is defeated, long streams of blood spew from his injuries in the form of shredded paper with the word 'blood' repeatedly printed on it. They use large checklists and interpret summations literally, wearing their expressions loudly and feeding off each other. The Three Stooges plus one.

Although opening night seemed to go over smoothly, there were a few bumps along the way. When I saw them earlier in the week at a rehearsal, they were still unclear who was doing what and where everything was going to go. During the opening scene in rehearsal, when they are all in bed together, no one would stop laughing and at one point an "ow" came from one of them. They never missed a beat though. Kept right on going.

The actors have to become proficient at changing fast and in the dark, because there are no nightlights in acting. This posed as a problem for Colonna when he came up wearing his judge's robe inside out. But he kept on going.

There was some difficulty moving the black screen off during intermission. The three poles for the screen curtain were getting stuck on the backstage curtains, making for a less-than graceful transition. They kept right on going.

The rehearsal might have lacked the emotion and dramatic faces of opening night, but it still amazed me they kept going, even through the missed lines and crack-ups. Even goof-offs can turn pro.

After the run at the Phoenix Theatre, Bunport plans to spend more time preparing for its first try at a serious show, Chekhov's Ward #6. The troupe is preparing to open its new space with this production in late May or June.

Buntport is still awaiting its not-for-profit status, so it will be more eligible for grants and other forms of funding. Right now, it's operating under an umbrella company, Performance International, so it can write grants in the meantime. It also does some small-scale fundraising and has raised money through friends, family, former teachers and employers, who have been enormously generous, Rollman said.

"Moms are great, we use moms a lot," Rollman said. "Brian's mom is doing some sewing for us. She's a professional."

"Hannah's mom does a lot too, and Erin's mom wants to make a quilted banner to hang out front," Schmitz said.

Erin continued to talk about her mom and how she hand quilts everything, when Colonna piped in, "What, so you think your mom's better than mine?"

"Well, my mom's good with numbers," touted Edborg as the banter continued and Duggan became lost to uncontrollable laughter once again.

They have several other plans for their giant warehouse. In fact, when I asked about the future it looked like I had sparked something in each one of them. They talked about turning the theatre into a non-traditional space with a lot of experimental things going on, along with the possibility of traditional art as well.

They are all used to traveling shows, for which they have to compensate for unknown factors and limitations.

"So instead of trying to make a show fit a space all the time, we get to make the space fit each individual show," Rollman said.

"I think as a venue, too, we all want other things to happen," Colonna said. "We want other kinds of artwork going up like sculpture or photography."

"Poetry readings, musicians, late night skits. We kind of want it to be a morph of artistic space," Edborg contributed.

"Also, if we can find a way to supplement this, all of us have had a lot of fun doing stuff at schools and for kids," Colonna said. "And the kind of theatre we have done-- because it's not so rooted in realism-- it's fun for kids, because they see there are other ways to do things and it stretches their imaginations."

They would also like to see it going all the time, never dark, Rollman said.

"Now, that may be completely unrealistic. But if there's not a show going on, maybe we can get some comedy sketches, maybe films," she continued and trailed off.

Maybe someday they will even have a ballet.

For more information, visit the troupe's website at www.buntport.com

2 IN ONE

Review by Cilicia Yakhlef

Aw ... isn't it cute? Look at those fingers, look at those wiggly little toes! And that ... claw ... and my, look at that big tail! There's a new member of Denver's theatre family and the relatives are going to be really proud of this one all right. Bouncing baby Buntport arrived at the Phoenix March 15, and the fact that it has six heads is a good thing, folks. Really it is. You see, as emerging theatre companies go, six stable, gifted, collaborative artists is more than enough. Especially when they write their own material and throw all known boundaries and paradigms aside.

They played to a large house at the Phoenix, and although that in itself is good news, the better news is that Buntport has just leased permanent space. The group is in the process of creating a black box stage that will be opening soon.

The sooner the better, I might add. Buntport stages original creations, thematically rooted in literary classics. The work, though, is stretched so far beyond the veil of the canon as to give rise to something completely different, yet recognizable-- and glitteringly funny.

2 in 1 pits James Thurber against ... that unknown guy or priest or, well, whoever wrote Beowulf. During the first act (nine quickies based on Thurber short stories), I was convinced Thurber was going to win the day. I mean we are talking Thurber here, and Act I does start out with two men and two women in bed and all. The audience was laughing right off the bat-- that's the first story, see-- "Mr. Monroe vs. The Bat." Well, anyway, by the time the bat bit was done, all the finite details of the piece came winging through the theatre. And even though Thurber was one of the finest word surgeons ever, Buntport had sewn in enough comedy to keep the audience in stitches.

The entire retinue of nine scenes was outstanding, both literarily and comically speaking. Act I managed to promote a profound appreciation for Thurber's work and words, while at the same time, spotlighting Buntport's creatively comic ever-sharpening edge. Highlights, in fact, were many. But particularly impressive was the dual tandem acting scene in "Helpful Hints and the Hoveys." The absolute knock-out bit of Act I, though, was "The Evening's at Seven," a play in which only one phrase is uttered on stage, but which is an enchantingly poignant, expertly executed piece of experimental theater. The piece is not so overcast and dark as to make the mood heavy, but provides a perfect dose of dramatic relief.

And then there's Act II, "Word-Horde," a dramatization of the study guide to Beowulf. Now, even though I'd pit Thurber's brains against Beowulf's brawn any day, I gotta tell you, the big dummy won the stage, though more to the credit of the Buntport group than the work. Hand-woven paper claws, fantastic timing and dialogue, and nifty movement between the reenactment and the CliffsNotes team had the audience entirely jovial and begging for more, to the degree that when the evening finally ended, no one would leave. That's right, we witnessed a play about Beowulf, and we so much wanted more that we clung to our seats for a while when it was over. I've actually read Beowulf folks, and all I can tell you is that it's not the kind of read you go in for a second time. To have a staged event based upon Beowulf which leaves the audience practically crying for more is nothing short of miraculous.

Now, I'm a big fan of comedy, but often I find it artistically lacking. Not so with 2 in 1. The Buntport team understands subtle nuance, timing, background setting and set design. They also understand when to break scenes, when to cull the laughter and when to turn it on. And, best of all they understand dramatic action. This, friends means that Buntport is presenting not just comedy, but High Comedy. You know, something along the lines of Shakespeare's comedies, complete with wit, charm, laughs, intelligence, rhythm, discernible meter, fully developed characters and so on. Additionally, the work is experimental and fresh as a crocus in February, making for great theatre and even better comedy. A --Cilicia Yakhlef