Theatre in Review: Angel Reapers (Signature Theatre)

	Sophie Bortolussi, Sally Murphy. Photo: Joan Marcus

The love of God is both thrilling and self-destructive in this unusual and affecting dance-theatre piece. The writer-director-choreographer, Martha Clarke, and her coauthor, Alfred Uhry, call to life the Shakers, the 18th-century offshoot of the Quakers who came to America and established several sects, thriving for a time. By 1920, they had all but ceased to exist, decimated by an extreme devotion to celibacy.

The Shakers got their name because of the ecstatic nature of their devotions; Angel Reapers begins with the company assembling and, one by one, bursting into wild, hilarious laughter. (Later, we will see one or two seemingly possessed by the spirit, trembling and sobbing with uncontainable emotion.) At the same time, the rules of community life are almost impossibly onerous: No "awkward positions." No writing in red "for ornament." All people who sleep in the same bedroom must go to sleep at the same time. And, of course, "Brethren and sisters may not pass each other on the stairs." Still, the company goes about its choreographed movements with a sense of pounding rhythm and untrammeled joy, often accompanied by a couple of dozen Shaker hymns, the most famous of which is "Simple Gifts."

Still, there's trouble in this paradise in the form of fleshly desires, which seem to creep into even the community's prayerful observances. A woman shows her devotion by spinning ever more furiously, until she collapses. Two men perform a strange pas de deux that involves falling into each other and connecting their shoulders. This homoerotic image is matched by a passage in which a tense young man describes the almost physical shock he receives when accidentally touching the other men (another man?). A number of testimonies reveal that many of them have sublimated terrible sorrows in their spirituality. A French woman describes the death of her daughter as they emigrated to the New World. Ann Lee, the historical figure who runs the community, recalls, with stunning self-hatred, "I rutted like a pig in the sty of my marriage bed," adding that "five times did my belly swell," each pregnancy ending in a miscarriage, "the bitter reward of fornication."

Clearly, there is pathology at work here, joined to an ideal of freedom from the flesh that few can sustain. Soon, two young people are quietly getting together; when they are discovered, they flee. This proves to be the traumatic event that breaks the spell that Shaker belief holds over the community, and soon members are fleeing, one by one.

Clarke and Uhry have a real sympathy for the Shakers and their beliefs, giving the joyful side of the religion its due and showing them to be, at least initially, invested in creating a community where everyone cares for everyone else. Even so, they are unsparing in portraying the destructive aspect of the Shaker idea of purity, linking it explicitly to the group's dissolution. I haven't seen The Wooster Group's Early Shaker Spirituals, which apparently covers some of the same material, but suffice to say that Angel Reapers blends words, songs, and movement in a way that allows us to get close to a vision that will seem staggeringly foreign to many, if not all, audience members. They also leave it to us to draw any comparisons with the many religious absolutists playing roles on today's world stage.

The only member of the cast with whom I am familiar is Sally Murphy, a skilled character actress and musical theatre veteran, whose natural radiance and lovely singing voice go a long way toward explaining Ann Lee's hold over her fellow Shakers. But the entire company performs with admirable conviction. At times, one seems to be watching the acts of true believers. The production's design team helps to immerse us in this strange and sometimes alluring world. Marsha Ginsberg's set places the audience on two sides of the stage, with the other two backed by clapboard walls. Christopher Akerlind's lighting reshapes the space, creates some pleasingly austere looks, and occasionally covers the walls with shadows during some of the more intense passages. Working with a necessarily limited palette, Donna Zakowska nevertheless creates a number of distinct color looks for the ladies' dresses; she also designs clothes that cover most of the body yet move well in the choreographed sequences. The sound design, by Samuel Crawford and Arthur Solari, creates a number of lovely ambient sounds, including birdsong and whippoorwills.

Angel Reapers begins in glorious happiness and proceeds to desolation, itself a metaphor for a certain kind of religious experience. Oddly, the part that one remembers the most is the joy. The unearthly happiness that these Shakers experience is what distinguishes them from the rest of the world; their sadness brings them back to earth, making them seem like everyone else. -- David Barbour