Firebox Theatre Company’s third production of the season, Brian Friel’s radiant Tony award-winning play, Dancing at Lughnasa, transports us to 1936 Ireland and the circumscribed world of the five Mundy sisters. This hauntingly rich memory play is narrated by adult Michael, the out-of-wedlock son of one of the sisters, recalling a summer when he was seven years old and the arrival of a wireless radio filled their Ballybeg cottage with music. His uncle has returned from a 25-year mission trip in Uganda, and his absentee father makes a brief appearance. It’s snapshots of a halcyon moment when the family was together before their whole way of life changes.
Tinged with both melancholy and nostalgia, Michael’s recollections meander to reveal fates in advance as well as the struggles of a rural existence marked by poverty. The future will not be kind to this family, and dividing three eggs amongst eight people for tea is no easy feat. Steven Roten’s Michael ambles about the stage, much like one does with a memory, as he introduces the dynamics of a household dominated by women’s voices, their teasing, joking, and gossip, the monotony broken by dancing to escape the narrowness of their lives. He strikes just the right wistful tone, one of empathy and fondness for his family.
Director Tim Artz has assembled an outstanding ensemble to fill the cozy set designed by Cora Hemphill and dreamily lit by Michael Burris. The action is centered in the kitchen where the unmarried sisters tend to the domestic chores that define their days. Maggie minds the house while the eldest sister, Kate, works as a teacher, bringing in the only real source of income for the family. Cassie Ford lends a tender, boisterous air to Maggie, the sister with silly riddles to relieve sibling tensions, but also in possession of a bit of sauciness that subtlety reveals her own longings. Ford gives a particularly layered performance of Maggie who lifts the family’s spirits even while tempering her own emotions.
As Kate, Tamara A. Farias effectively encapsulates all the stress of being the responsible sibling, her face showing the ongoing weariness, her actions dictated by a fierce protectiveness as well as a strict adherence to social and religious values. Her ongoing expressions of disapproval of others irritates the stoic Agnes who feels her contributions to the household are sorely underappreciated. Hemphill delivers a finely detailed portrait of Agnes who seems to knit constantly more to restrain her deep wells of emotions than for the bit of income it adds.
The more light-hearted nature of the two younger sisters, Chris, Michael’s mother, and Rose, offers a stark contrast to the heaviness of Kate and Agnes. While Chris (a wonderfully engaging performance by Abigail Hackenberg) has endured the stigma of bearing a child out of wedlock, she still vibrates with a girlish romantic fervor. She is clearly smitten by the charming Welsh rogue who has fathered her child, but her judgment of him is not clouded. Rose, on the other hand, exhibits a child-like naivete and trusting innocence that makes her more vulnerable, motivating an extra layer of protectiveness from her sisters even if her guileless honesty irritates. Amanda Anderson plays Rose with a fine balance of enthusiasm and sensitivity.
But it is the arrival of men, first the long-gone brother and then the absent parent, that precipitates the disruption of their household. Father Jack, played with fine perfection by Michale Foley, rambles and seems to have lost words during his sojourn with the lepers in Africa. He shocks the sisters with his seeming embrace of pagan rituals. And Gerry, father of Michael, sweeps in with romantic gestures and exuberant future plans. Andrew Price Carlile exudes charm upon entering the scene, his eyes and words seductive for this mostly cloistered group, even though the sisters know he will not remain in their midst for long.
And that’s what makes this play such a poignant tale. This time before the harvest, celebrating the Celtic God of the Harvest, Lugh, with the festival of Lughnasa, dancing and whirling with abandon to escape all that holds them back, not really aware that their world is about to collapse. But the outside is creeping in, industrialization, war in Europe, and the men leave. Memory often distorts and compresses images of the past, fixates them on a moment that comes to define and dominate. For a brief, exquisite moment, Friel and this Firebox production has given us an experience almost too unreal and beautiful for words.
Dancing at Lughnasa runs through September 29 in Wake Forest. For more information visit https://www.fireboxtheatre.com/.