Press Release: (re)discover theatre Presents FLESH AND BONE at St. Lou Fringe

Chicago ensemble (re)discover theatre presents FLESH AND BONE at St. Lou Fringe 

(re)discover theatre, a Chicago based ensemble who tackles devised work and language plays with a focus on text, skill, relationship, and discovery, brings their newest project, FLESH AND BONE, to the St. Lou Fringe.  (re)discover theatre has been hailed as “shocking, sexy, and haunting” by the Chicago Reader, and “inventive and authentic” by Chicago Theater Beat. The not-to-be-missed production explores the inundation of unrealistic body standards and blatant sexuality presented by the American media and its impact on society.  Tickets are $10, plus fringe button. Tickets can be purchased through St. Lou Fringe or at the door (cash only). Thur June 21 10:00 pm / Fri  June 22 7:00  pm / Sat  June 23 4:00  pm / Sun  June 24 1:00 pm . At The Kranzberg Cabaret
 501 N. Grand Blvd., St. Louis, MO 63108.

Chicago Critic warns, "Let it be known that there is another young, hungry troupe in town." Following hot on the heels of their well-received productions, An Evening of Beckett and The Tragedie of Hamlet: Prince of Denmarke, (re)discover theatre premiers their newest venture at the St. Lou Fringe.

The piece is written and conceived by Jessica Shoemaker, who explains, “FLESH AND BONE was prompted by my own frustration at watching beautiful girls and women in my life find themselves lacking. We thought it was really important to bring a male perspective onto the team, and that has been incredibly eye opening. It’s extremely pervasive.” Though the piece is rooted in social observation, Shoemaker emphasized, “The show is visceral, edgy, physical. Definitely not for children.”

The members of the (re)discover ensemble bringing you Flesh & Bone are all Webster Conservatory graduates, and are thrilled to bring their work “back home”.

FLESH AND BONE is: 
Sexuality. Body Image. American media. 
A fresh and humorous exploration of the issue that lives in ads and breathes in us. 
A show. 
A demonstration. 
A call to arms.

Conceived and written by Jessica Shoemaker 

Directed by Janet Howe and Jessica Shoemaker

Ensemble: Miriam Reuter and Matt Wills

Why I (still) love Samuel Beckett

About five years ago, my mom went to see a movie. It was a terribly unpleasant experience for her: ugly, unflattering, a very uncomfortable portrait of a system that she lived as part of. It asked some really dark and complicated questions and I got the sense that it shook her sense of stability and confidence. And she called me afterwards, specifically to say she was proud that I was working as an actor, that I was part of an industry that was willing to tell those kinds of stories. It was the first time my mom said that to me, and I’ll never forget it.

I’ve been working on Samuel Beckett shorts for the past two months and it’s been remarkably difficult. It's ugly, unpleasant, and unflattering. It’s dark. It makes me squirm, it leaves me feeling raw and distinctly uncomfortable. 

And I want you to come see it. Because I still love Samuel Beckett. 

When we first started, I told my director that the most difficult thing was the lack of love in the pieces, the lack of connection. After two months of wrestling with these texts, I now believe there is no other dramatist whose work is so firmly mired in connection, in love, in empathy. But it’s not an easy empathy: Beckett is overwhelmed by the grotesque, the insane, the deformed, those devoid or stripped of beauty and still he embraces them.  He honors them. He insists upon telling their stories.

I have a horrifying costume in the show. It is viscerally frightening. The first few times I worked in it, no one could look at me. Everyone recoiled the moment I put it on. No one wanted to address me. It was terribly isolating. But slowly, people began to get used to it. They were able to interact with me, make eye contact, touch me, talk about my experience inside of the costume. Finally during tech I had a twenty-minute conversation while physically leaning on someone in the costume and sipping seltzer through a straw. We’d moved beyond the horror into life. Now, at the end of the day I take my costume off. But the smelly woman, begging for your change on the street corner doesn’t have that luxury. Neither does the man yelling about god on the red line, the woman with dead-eyes shufffling to work day after day, or the men returning from war plagued by PTSD. Tortured, depressed, lost, isolated, violated: there are people who live in this reality. A lot of them. I see Beckett reflected back at me on faces in the train, on the streets, in the news. And they all need your eye contact, your comfort, your touch, your understanding. Seltzer with straws never hurts either.

You will not laugh half-heartedly or sigh quietly during these plays: you will love them or you will hate them. But they’re an hour long and how often do you walk away from a theater knowing, without a doubt, that you experienced something? Beckett is insistent: he will not let you ignore. He will not let you numb. He is the voice for those who cannot speak: because they don’t have the poetry, or because they don’t have the strength, or because they don’t have their sanity.

I don't always want to work on Beckett, but this is the kind of work that makes me proud to be an actor. When I'm successful, it excites me, it scares me, it changes me. That’s the point, isn’t it? I have struggled more in the past two months than I have ever struggled in my (admittedly short) career as an artist. I have watched this fabulous group of young artists mire through some difficult material, look at some painful things, and come out with something that I fundamentally believe is worth your time. Come see our show. Go to rediscovertheatre.com and order tickets. Call ME and I'll get you tickets. Show up at the Heartland Studio off the Morse Red Line and get. your. tickets. If you end up regretting it, I'll happily reimburse your ticket price if you'll talk about the experience with me. Over a beer. And some chocolate.

- Jessica Shoemaker

An Evening of Beckett: Play, Not I, What Where
Thursday through Sunday: May 24 – June 2 at 8pm
Sunday: May 27 and June 3 at 2pm

At The Heartland Studio
7016 N Glenwood Ave. Chicago, IL 60626

An Evening of Beckett - What Where [Promo Video]

An Evening of Beckett - Not I [Promo Video]

The Tragedie of Hamlet: First Promotional Video