The stage of Kingsbury Hall receives you with its open curtains and a large platform simulating a podium, like those found in various nations’ congresses, extending along almost the entirety of the stage. This is with justifiable reason, as this performance is about passing a bill to reduce global bodies of water — oceans — into tiny and humanely “controllable” bodies of water, to reduce their “threat” to human life.
The Ocean — masterfully performed by Jennifer Kidwell — presents itself at the Global Senate to filibuster the bill. Mr. Majority — also masterfully performed by Jennifer Kidwell — is pushing to get the bill passed. Impressively, Kidwell jumps with ease from one character to the other through voice modulation, singing, and the manipulation of the costuming.
The stage is also framed by a white screen and several columns of white fabric. As a whole, these will become the screens of large-scale projection. immersing the audience into the narrative. Projection has been used in the performing arts for centuries — the use of candle light to project a shadow is one of the earliest antecedents of what we can do now with a little electricity — and it remains very effective in this context, particularly in the immersive sequences in which the Ocean is speaking.
Photo by Pim Lin, Forest Photography at the University of Houston, 2022.
During the intermission, spaces behind the stage and the lobby of the second floor are activated, as we are invited to explore, interacting with the actors or scrutinizing an app through which augmented reality unfolds facts related to the ocean.
One element I consider a success and a smart choice is the integration/participation of local performers. Students from the Musical Theatre program at the Theatre Department at the University of Utah, are “the ocean ensemble,” an extension of the life that proliferates in The Ocean and of The Ocean itself. This illustrates the increasing challenge and complexity of today’s performing arts logic. This production might seem easier to tour because there is only one touring actor on stage, however, building or transporting those bulky set pieces and even hosting the company for more than four days is costly, and fewer and fewer venues can afford it. Partnering with local organizations and soliciting local talent reduces costs, which is why more productions have opted for this model. However, what is not sustainable in this case is that Ocean Filibuster was only a one-night show. Once a date is secured, this kind of production should be presented for more nights and in other venues around the area. I cannot imagine how expensive building or transporting the biggest set piece was just to present this performance one time.
Ocean Filibuster — written by Lisa D’Amour and directed by Katie Pearl — is an enjoyable musical that through humor, a lot of scientific facts, and visual immersion, unfurls the specifics of how poorly our anthropocentric approach has managed and exploited natural life and resources. Nevertheless, I do not think what it offers is wholly new to the audiences of this city, especially considering the awareness of the current situation of the Great Salt Lake. If anything, Mr. Majority reflects how this city and state’s leaders have overlooked, and put at risk the future even of their own children on behalf of business, greed, and profit.
Photo by Pim Lin, Forest Photography at the University of Houston, 2022.
This performance is straightforward, didactic, and easy to digest. In this sense, this kind of show accomplishes certain objectives and is necessary in the arts ecosystem. Watching from the comfort of my seat, I wondered if it wouldn’t be useful to try to present this kind of educational performance outside as well as inside the city, which already has better-than-average access to information and spectacles like this one. I can foresee how this performance might be important in regions where beliefs and education play a fundamental role in access to information. I had a good time recognizing the incredible work of the performers, but what I am curious about is reaching the right people. Will we use public transit more often, reuse instead of disposing of massive amounts of waste? Are we willing to make sacrifices, measurable in terms of commodities? I am authentically curious if any of us who made it to the theater that night have power and a say. Will we go back to work on family business or in political affairs and will we refrain from signing the next contract, passing the next bill, or taking actions that, in particular, negatively affect the Great Salt Lake, or any other natural resources at stake?
While I was watching, I asked myself all these questions. I appreciate that art can — like a mirror — reflect on matters that need our attention, but maybe we should become better not only as viewers but also as agents. Of what we applaud after a show, how much do we actually practice in daily life?
Stephanie Garcia is a multi-awarded Mexican artist, arts advocate, and arts administrator living between Salt Lake and Mexico City. More info at stephaniegarcia.art.