Letters To Home

Critiqued by Holly Bartges

In uniform, with a wry smile portraying loneliness, Jeff Simpson brings Charles Stewart to life writing to his wife in the midst of WW I. Calling her Honey Girl, he tries to keep the written words light. Behind the light-hearted words, a horrendous war rages with Stewart right there in the middle. Even with Simpson’s wry smile, he manages to convey an agony he dare not even share with Honey Girl. Through Simpson, Charlie becomes alive, a human being on strange foreign soil, filtering images through his eyes he wishes he hadn’t seen and certainly wants to protect from his beloved Honey Girl. He just wants her to know he misses her.

Sara Whitney and Jeff Simpson Photo by Dell Domnik

The Byers-Evans House offers unique challenges to actors, in particular, young actors.

Currently Hunger Artists presents a revival of their critically acclaimed Letters To Home written and adapted by Maggie Stillman and Deni-Marie Warren, and directed by Stillman.

In a small pace surrounded by the luxury of the beautiful maintained Byers-Evans House, the audience sits only inches from the actors. In a traditional theatre, cast members bask in the buffer of protective lighting. Sometimes they can see individuals in the audience, but for the most part, the audience, during the telling of a story, remains a blur. Expressions can’t be detected. If someone is lost to the story, the actors can’t see it. If someone doesn’t laugh over a Funny, the actors don’t know it. During the show, the actors remain tightly cocooned in their wondrous make believe world. Not with Huger Artists at the Byers-Evans House. There are no foot lights to cocoon the action. Inches away, right under their noses, the audience sits. Even with the most esteemed actor, part of the brain always keeps on working separate from the engulfed scene. “Are they enjoying the show?” “Did they notice my mistake?” “They howled last night at that joke. Why didn’t they laugh tonight?” “Am I funny enough?” “Am I serious enough?” “Am I believable?”

The Byers House calls for even more concentration to avoid reading into the audience. Important to state, The six Letters To Home actors do an astonishing job of maintaining characterizations as they read and act through the letters from war zones from the Civil War, the Spanish American War, WWI and II, the Sand Creek Massacre, and chilling delightful letters from children written to guys in uniform in the Gulf War. Likewise, the audience is privy to every flicker of the actors’ eyes, every muscle twitch, every move no matter how minute. The concentration and discipline of these six actors is stunningly wondrous. If having an audience right under their noses bothers anyone of them, they don’t show it. In fact, they look like they revel in it. They’re trained actors. They have something important to portray and they do so with pride, integrity, and honor.

In 1898 during the Spanish American War, Neil C. Sullivan Jr. comfortable in a cowboy hat writes to his family in Longmont. His troop train takes him to San Francisco. Young, eager, excited he’s on his way to Manila. He doesn’t make it. Before his feet leave American soil, he dies of Malaria. The Powers That Be now must write the dreaded letter to his parents. Neil became the first casualty of that war. Ben Cowhick, Peter Trinh, Simpson, and Dave Karasik bring the moments to life as though the events happened yesterday.

The staging stylized, the actors working in synchronization, emotion swirls between the four connecting with the audience.

Fun, laughable relief comes with seven letters written by children from all over Colorado in 1990 to service men in the Gulf War. Laughable because the kids are eager, excited about their lives, and the actors pull from their experience to let the audience see through the words to the personalities behind the letters.

Sara Whitney transforms into Whitney in the 7th Grade and Desiree. Peter Trinh becomes 7th Grade Richard as well as 17-year-old Marcos from Greeley Central High School. Trinh works with Ben Cowhick as John and Javier. Amy Ratliff gives a glimpse into the lives of Shanele, a junior high student in Lakewood, who applies her charms to get her service guy to write back, and Amanda who likes horses and has lots of animals.

In between the smiles and chuckles from children come the heartbreak, loneliness and anxieties of guys clinging to patriotic duty in strange unsettled places.

Simpson and Whitney project the emotions from a young Dwight and Mamie Eisenhower from WW II.

All of the letters have a direct tie to Colorado. Stillman and Warren spent numerous hours at the Colorado Historical Society Hart Library with Keith Schrum the curator of books and manuscripts. In the reception room where complimentary bottles of water are available, Hunger Artists arranged a few photos from some of the men writing. There is also a table where audience members can write short notes to men in the Armed Services. Hunger Artists will see to it the letters are mailed.

The six actors relive letters from Martin Bischoff in WW II beginning with June 21, 1943. On July 28, 1943 he writes his parents how much he misses Denver, and on August 20 he notes he’s been gone one year and eight months. On September 4 he reports how his plane was shot down and he was rescued from the English Channel and able to participate in the Invasion of Normandy.

The ensemble creates alive details from the Sand Creek Massacre with letters from Black Kettle, George Bent, and Silas Soule.

Ratliff, Whitney, Simpson and Karasik relive Velvalee Dickenson’s letters from Buenos Aries, Argentina during WW II as she wrote strange images. Her strange images were a code; her letters turned over to the FBI. She pleaded guilty to espionage, sentenced ten years in prison and fined $10,000.

One of the most difficult letters to listen to by the Ensemble comes from Clara, Francis and Norman Morse from WW II. Clara watches her two boys grow up. When old enough Francis joins the Navy. Norman follows when eligible. Arrangements are made so both boys can serve together on the USS Arizona bombed during Pearl Harber. A large American flag is held up behind Clara, Francis and Norman. When the boys are reported missing, the flag neatly folded by military regulations and handed to Clara who unashamedly crumbles over the loss of her sons. Whitney, with a shawl over her shoulders, turns the moment real.

With little ventilation in the Byers-Evans House, the complimentary water is greatly appreciated, as it gets very warm during the production. Hunter Artists might seriously consider employing the use of fans before and immediately after the performance. When you go, wear loose comfortable layered clothing so you can “peel” to a certain degree. The show runs straight through without Intermission, lasting an hour and ten minutes.

Folding chairs are used for the audience. It was noted there were several hard backed chairs stacked in the reception room, and I couldn’t help but wonder why they couldn’t be used with folding chairs making up the necessary difference. After 45 minutes on the folding chair, my back screamed louder than the actor’s could speak. Fortunately, I don’t think anyone else heard it.

The staging direct, precise, as the actors climb inside the letters to decipher the characters and let the audience catch a glimpse of the person writing. They have all captured the stance maintaining it even with someone taking notes right under their noses.

Even though these letters stretch across many years of American History, the sentiments remain very real for today with the war in Iraq raging on. Men write to their Honey Girls, aching to be home. Young men leaving friends and family for the first time “eager to see the world” have no idea what they are getting into. Once there, many of them wish they hadn’t been so eager. Once there, many of them cling to their sense of patriotic duty and write with pride and honor. Once there, many who can’t wait to get home, never do. War is war whether it’s the Civil War, The Spanish American War, The Great War, WW II, the Korean Conflict, Vietnam, The Gulf War, or The Sand Creek Massacre. Letters from home mean more than the chow line. It means connection to loved ones.

If you haven’t yet seen Letters To Home, don’t miss it. It feeds.

Letters To Home: Readers Theatre

Adapted by Maggie Stillman and Deni-Marie Warren; Directed by Maggie Stillman