Happy Mothers Day: A review of "No Need for Seduction" by Victoria Libertore and " 'night Mother" by White Horse Theater Company

Some species are known for eating their young. Human beings consume their children in a particular way. Not in the physical sense, but certainly in the way parents inhabit their progeny almost metaphysically from the crucial formative years of life until life's end. That nuclear connection between mother and child, father, son and daughter, and every other familial permutation we can think of, never ceases to influence the person and his or her destiny. This relationship between parent and child is the common thread running through the two very different theatrical experiences I had this week. Mothers figure prominently in both.

On the surface "No Need for Seduction" currently running at Dixon Place, might be mistaken for a travel-log, or a sexy, romantic romp through the mind of a provocative and beautiful, if neurotic, seductress. It is all of that. But it is also deeply revelatory and cathartic in the most delightful, disturbing and subtle of ways. I have seen some one-person performances in my time. Eric Bogosian's "Wake Up and Smell the Coffee", John Leguizamo's "Freak", and "The Agony and the Ecstasy of Steve Jobs" by Mike Daisy to name a few. And I am a huge fan of Spalding Gray, though I never got to see him live and in person. Eve Ensler in "The Good Body" also comes to mind when comparing performances of one-person events. They all demonstrated the power to command a stage and tell a story with a minimum of other players, props, or lighting. They were able to transform the facts and stories about their own lives into theatrical art. This is what Victoria Libertore accomplishes with "No Need for Seduction". In doing so she exhibits not only her own generosity, but also the generosity of her partner, Jen who is prominently featured in the piece.

Directed by Leigh Fondakowski, best known for her work on "The Laramie Project", we are swept along with Libertore as she says safety prayers to Kali the Destroyer, mother of mayhem, and strokes the head of Ganesh. We hike the mountains of Bali at sunrise and swim in the infinity pool of Villa Shambala. We place pennies on the railroad tracks outside Columbus, Ohio and share their trauma as they are flattened by the passing train.

Works of art have a distinct habit of striking deep into the heart of the viewer. A place where undeniable connections are made, however remote, to ones own life. In her telling of the time Libertore spent with her father, the reality of my own mother's history came flooding over me and continues to land as I write. A sore that will never heal is stroked almost reverently. As we laugh at the absurd and the mundane and the profane, the pain at the core of our first, and often brutal consummations, where our innocence is eaten like a holy communion wafer, where sores are left to fester for the rest of our lives; through theater we display them for what they are: badges of honor. And in that display let healing replace self-loathing and doubt even though the wound remains forever. Libertore channels her departed mother who, like the spirit of Judy Garland, is hovering over the stage providing an angelically spectral air to the vaulted ceiling of the cellar space.

Victoria Libertore in her masterful way tells a story rich with green, the color of the heart chakra. Green the color of money. Green, the color of Go! As in Victoria, "Howling Vic", you go!

Across town, at the Hudson Guild Theater, and at the other end of the theatrical spectrum, White Horse Theater Company, founded by Cyndy Marion and Rod Switzer, celebrates its 10th Anniversary of existence with a brilliant production of Marsh Norman's Pulitzer Prize winning play " 'night Mother". In a departure for the company this marks the first attempt of a main stage effort by a female playwright. And what a departure.

When I first saw this play on Broadway in 2004 I couldn't wait for Edie Falco to put a bullet in her head and end my misery. I was confused about whether I was supposed to feel that way, or if somehow the revival failed to accomplish what the original had done. All that changed as I watched Laura Siner as Jessie and Joy Franz as Thelma (Mama), prepare for the heart wrenching and inevitable conclusion. Cyndy Marion, at the absolute height of her power as a director gives her amazing actors the space to explore this emotionally gruesome spectacle.

Joy Franz is breathtaking as Mama. Her performance is matched color for color by Laura Siner who last lit up the White Horse Stage with a luminous portrayal of Miriam in Tennessee Williams' "In the Bar of a Tokyo Hotel." Relationships to illness, failure and old wounds come to the fore in this production, providing meaning to a cup of cocoa, and high drama to spilling the manicure tray in a tantrum of frustration. The huge clock on the wall and the ticking sound effect, which I only began to notice as time wound down to the final, crushing moments, underscored the preciousness of life and how every second counts. Current issues headlining mainstream media like suicide and the problems of the "sandwich" generation make this production very timely indeed. Kudos. Bravo.

The transformative power of what happens to us when we take ourselves out of the routine comfort zones of day-to-day life portrayed wonderfully by performers really flexing their muscles, displaying their chops in the intimacy of theaters like Hudson Guild or Dixon Place makes the effort to seek alternatives to Broadway and Off-Broadway so rewarding.

I am going to call my mom now and have a long conversation about how happy I am to be able to speak with her on Mother's Day. To my mom, and to my surrogate mother's, my two older sisters, Marti, and Patty...Have a wonderful, beautiful Mother's Day. I love you all.