The most marvelous thing about the theater is also the most obvious: the actual presence of the performer in the room. No film can imitate the peculiar sense of privilege that comes with watching a creator create in real time in a particular space that is not simultaneously in Los Angeles or New York or Mexico City, but only right here now. Donna Blue Lachman makes you especially aware of that sense of privilege, because (1) Donna Blue Lachman is like no one else, and (2) she builds her theater out of that singularity. Lachman's latest play is a sort of monologue with interruptions, recounting a Haitian voodoo quest that became a crash course in Baby Doe poli-sci. Like her, it's funny, dreamy, mystic, vulgar; utterly self-entranced, yet perfectly open and generous; full of a blithe American carelessness, yet sharply aware of the mechanics of that carelessness. Sharply aware of itself. Blue Rider Theater, through June 24. Friday and Saturday, 8 PM; Sunday, 7 PM. Sunday, June 11 only, 2 PM. $7-$10.
Art accompanying story in printed newspaper (not available in this archive): photo/Robert Drea.