Review: ETCHED GLASS DECANTER at Capital Fringe

Etched Glass Decanter, is a play concerned with the strange dreamstate that exists in between sleep and reality. Upon entrance to the space, theater-goers were automatically surrounded in sound, and singular immersive vision. Ambient music plays before the lights go down, and the show starts. And when the show does start, it is very clear it is also concerned with one thing above all others; language.

On their website, The Evening Crane Theatre (founded by playwright/ director Michael Seebold) states it is "dedicated to the resurrection of forgotten 19th century masterworks, and the presentation of new plays in a lyrical mode." If there is one thing a viewer will remember, it is words. While yes, perhaps being the slightest bit over the top at times, the dedication to soliloquy, and the almost unforgiving amount of words which the piece presents is quite admirable, and an impressive feat to realize on stage.

It was reminiscent almost of being read a story; some bizarre and macabre fairy tale in the dark before bed. A viewer is transported from a literal theater, to the "theater of the mind." With the minimal resources of a Fringe venue, the dialogue and description of the show are still able to paint a vast and awesome image in the imagination. It follows an Astronomer (Reid Watson) and his wife (Leah Schwartz), as they mitigate what seems to be a contagious plague that causes hallucinations. All of their acquaintances have been deeply infected, as well as the couple themselves.

After a fever-like series of scenes and theories that introduce us into the world of the play, the couple meets Izhabel (Shannon McDavid), an enigmatic and almost alien woman, who manifests in places no-one should be in. She carries with her only a silver tray with five ornate sculpted cups, and the titular etched glass decanter, and knows not of herself.

At first horrified at her arrival, the couple becomes perplexed, and wonders about the nature of her existence. Hallucination or not? The performance from McDavid is subtle, yet consistent. Speaking only in a powerful, incredibly slow paced tone, there is no nuance in her voice, but slight hints of whimsy and power in her facial expressions.

After deciding she is perhaps not a threat, Izhabel somehow dematerialized, and melts into the perceived reality of the couple, causing them to panic, and question themselves as well as each other.

Now if that sounds hard to picture, it is most likely because it is. The show had many moments like this, describing surreal and impossible happenings, and it became clear this was not a play concerned with guiding the audience. The audience had to give themselves up to the show and the hypnotizing liquid nature of it, and allow themselves to be taken on a journey with the characters, becoming, at times, contently confused. It hearkens in this way to Lewis Carroll's Alice's Adventures in Wonderland.

Eventually, the wife pours some of the liquid from the decanter into a cup, which triggers a transportation of the couple. Perhaps interplanetary, interdimensionally, or temporally. Regardless the two end up in a fantastic and strange landscape, described beautifully of course by the text and the actors. They stumble upon the fourth character, The Blind Dutch Master (Lane. M Jackson), who paints the bizarre and transfixing nature surrounding them. Jackson provides a brief and enjoyable performance, clearly having a great voice for this type of theatre, and adding to the otherworldly atmosphere of the show.

After a few fools errands and a swim or two, the show ends, not having resolved much. It is apparent this performance is the first of five. Assumedly, there is one play, or piece of a play for each cup presented by Izhabel. This first one being Part One: The Queen with Closed Eyes, as the cup the wife used is one with a queen on it.

The physical world of the show was of course minimal, being a fringe performance, but provided pleasant aesthetics. The costumes, designed by Alyssa Poon were of course period inspired, but not over the top with the amount of garments each actor wore. A particularly memorable costume came from the embroidered dress and constellation headscarf sported by Izhabel, as well as the multi-purpose black garment worn by Jackson's characters.

Lights (Tyler Dubuc) and sound were a massively important part of the show, and often worked in tandem to create theme, ambience, and aid in more logistical storytelling. The music, which was created by the show's writer and director, Seebold, was strange and enchanting. It was almost like meditation music, but from another planet, and ebbed and flowed with the ever changing colorful lights that showed the true unreality of the piece. The music and lights in combination with the events of the show seemed reminiscent of the classic game series Myst, a liminal point and click adventure that defined a genre. Fans of the game are sure to be fans of the show, and vice versa.

Out of all the meticulousness put into this production, there were very small mishaps here and there, that pulled one out of the immersion. Near the top of the show, when references keys to an observatory, Watson produced a key ring with a car fob on it, and also wrote with a bright blue tipped ballpoint pen. At first, this could be assumed to be a purposeful anachronism (and could be perhaps with the events of the potential 4 sequels), but never developed into anything and just felt a bit off. To be incredibly specific, this feeling was brought up again when looking at the fringe atop the paper the Dutch Master sketched on, clearly ripped from a modern sketchbook.

The guiding hand through this undulating experience were the performances of Watson and Schwartz. Who had a familiar yet semi-formal chemistry, befitting of the aimed lyrical 19th century style. Watson was frenzied and every moving, a good foil of Schwartz' more subtle and grounded character. Both allowed the audience to experience everything they were, and acted as a proxy for the ordinary folks to experience this extraordinary world.

As fresh as it is ancient, Etched Glass Decanter succeeds in pulling off a singular specific vision, and creating a truly unique literary world. The play was fascinating to view, and would assuredly be a delight to read. While esoteric at times, there is surely something for every theater-goer to appreciate, and hopefully The Evening Crane Theatre is able to finish the strange story of the Astronomer, his wife, and a series of glass objects.

While done at Fringe, you can check out The Evening Crane Theatre on their website at https://www.eveningcrane.com/.

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