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March 24, 2006
A one-man masterpiece
Eccentric character weaves tales of intrigue from Germany.
BAILA LAZARUS
It's rare that I would use as tired a cliché as "tour-de-force"
to describe a theatre performance, but it was the phrase that stuck
in my mind from the first moment of applause as the lights went
down on I Am My Own Wife at the Playhouse theatre last week.
Written by Doug Wright, performed by Tom Rooney and directed by
Michael Shamata, the play surpassed all expectations – from
the stellar performance of Rooney in 36 different roles, leaping
back and forth in time, seamlessly changing character and accent
in mid-sentence; to Alan Brodie's masterful lighting, which, on
more than one occasion, made me want to reach for a camera to capture
the image on stage; to the incredible direction that made sense
out of confusion, made a two-hour monologue riveting and created
the best final minutes of a play that I've seen on a Vancouver stage
in recent years. It's no surprise that it took the author 10 years
of research, writing and workshops to put this masterpiece together.
There is no doubt that what makes the play work is the main character,
Charlotte von Mahlsdorf herself – the real person on whom the
play is based – a transvestite who "charmed adversaries
into submission," according to Wright, a cult figure as well
as an object of hatred. She was a source of national pride, simply
by being so well known in East Germany, but was also whispered about
and attacked because of her sexual proclivities and her association
with the Stasi, the East German secret police.
In 1992, Wright was visiting his friend John Marks, bureau chief
with US News and World Report in Berlin. Marks took him to
meet Charlotte, who was running a museum. From the first meeting,
Wright knew he had to learn more about Charlotte and convinced her
to let him visit, interview and take notes. Eventually, he even
got access to the files the Stasi had kept.
Born Lothar Berfelde in 1928, Charlotte suffered physical abuse
and threats at the hands of her father, who she claims to have killed
when she was a teenager. She was encouraged by an aunt to explore
her sexual desires and eventually grew into her lifestyle as a somewhat
eccentric cross-dresser who was a passionate collector of antiques.
She was so fervent about keeping history alive, she took serious
chances, even during Hitler-run Germany.
When the Nazis were looting Jewish homes during the Second World
War, Charlotte was able to rescue some artifacts, such as lamps
and artwork, as well as records of banned composers like Mendelssohn
and Offenbach. She would cut brown paper and glue it over the centres
of the records, writing things such as "Aryan polkas and waltzes"
on the label to hide the true content. After the war, she took a
sponge and rubbed the paper off.
The delicateness with which Rooney plays Charlotte as she recounts
her life is an absolute treat. Choosing words so deliberately, smoothing
out her dress like an old lady as he speaks, pausing at the perfect
moment to say "yes ... yes" for emphasis, all make Charlotte
seem so believable, the audience can often feel like they are present
in the museum as Charlotte lovingly describes each piece of furniture.
And the play is not without its humor, either. Telling Wright about
the early days when she set up the museum, Charlotte, in German
accent, says, "Some people came to see me [because] ich been
ein transvesteet, but soon, they look at the furniture."
One of the greatest difficulties Wright had to overcome as he was
researching Charlotte's tale developed out of his own mistrust about
what she had to say. How much of her story was real? There were
certainly records that supported some of her illegal activities,
such as running contraband, and papers in the Stasi files that corroborated
the story that she had been a spy for them. But many of her tales
didn't ring entirely true and, according to the play, she was quite
keen on avoiding giving out some crucial information.
"At the end of my long journey with Charlotte, I found she
remained – at heart – an enigma," Wright says in
his notes. "And how can you conclusively paint a portrait of
that?"
Within the play, a psychiatrist calls Charlotte's stories "self-medication,"
and Wright's character observes, "I'm curating her now and
I don't know what to keep."
In the end, Wright finds the answers to his own questions as he
listens to Charlotte explain why she keeps all the furniture as
it gets old; why she never refinishes anything, no matter how scratched
or faded. "These are proof of its history," she says,
"and so you must leave it alone, you must show it as is."
I Am My Own Wife premièred on Broadway in 2003. The following
year, it won a Tony Award for best play and a Pulitzer for drama,
among many other awards. It runs until April 6 at the Vancouver
Playhouse. Call 604-873-3311 or visit www.vancouverplayhouse.com
for information.
Baila Lazarus is a freelance writer, photographer and
illustrator living in Vancouver. Her work can be seen at www.orchiddesigns.net.
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