In the sense of conservation science the term rewilding refers to the concept of utilizing the regulatory roles of large predators to reestablish wilderness. As a social phenomenon it’s the latest back-to-the-land trend, this one based on apocalyptic environmentalism. At its extreme this involves intentional communities living without electricity, running water, etc. These are communities that attempt to live in complete harmony with their environment.
A complete and harmonized environment has been established just south of the International District where the Satori Group’s world premiere of reWilding plays through March 17. Director Caitlin Sullivan and her ensemble create a nearly seamless integration of music, dance, set, and text that draws the audience in. This is not to say that there aren’t divisions between these elements.
Matryna Majok’s script is leanly fleshed over strong bones with a series of loosely connected episodes hung on an abrupt arc. The transitions between these often gripping and poignant scenes have been smoothed to a polish or puttied with half-discernible conversations. These bits of dialogue might be the private incidental nattering of the characters or the professional chatter of artistic collaborators; the content is less important than the continuity of action.
Though there is little formal stillness to frame the episodes an electrified suspension provides a pervasive and powerful element within scenes. The things that are unsaid tend to be more important than the spoken words. These are people who will go to great lengths to avoid revelation but the act of their efforts undermines their intentions.
The characters of this story are mostly members of a fictionalized rewilding community. They live passionate lives with Appalachian accents and one is constantly aware of something lurking beneath the surface of every person in this community. More than once one character queries another about her past, what she’s hiding or what it is she’s fleeing. All the while it’s clear that the question is only meant to deflect attention from some other hidden pain.
The accents and the excellent roots and traditional score by the live, onstage band smack of the latest fad for fetishizing Appalachia but to the production’s credit not everyone does the accent. A local mechanic sounds like a New York transplant and the stranger who comes to town setting off this series of episodes is likewise marked as other by her accent, as is the local crazy man.
A few characters don’t hold together very well. One seems monotonously over-sexualized, many are oddly infantilized. The world of the play takes on the aspect of a sinister Neverland and the melding of radical conservation with deep-seated neuroses raises some questions about authorial intent. Is Majok implying a relationship between conservation and social dysfunction? One suspects that reWilding is less intentionally political than dramatically stock in the vein of The Village, Lost Horizon, or even The Crucible.
The secrets these characters keep and the things they seek to escape are never fully revealed. This play is more a story of the strain of hiding than the revelation of the thing hidden. This anxiety creates a sense of foreboding that permeates the immersive light and set design by Marnie Cumings, and Clare Strasser and Montana Tippett, respectively.
The intimacy of the staging cannot be overstated. The largely outstanding cast allows the audience in like silent members of the commune. We are even fed bread and lentil soup (beware of the bay leaves) and there is an open cooler of beer at intermission. Were Satori to get the audience singing the production would be downright religious. For all the tension of the play the music and food balance the apprehension with comfort. That balance proves most satisfying.
