Blind Prophecy

Wow. There are no words to describe the pleasant blast from the past I got last night. My buddy from college, Chadaeos, uploaded a bunch of photos from our theatre department including 6 shots I never thought I’d see again. These photos come from Benedetta, the original full length play I wrote, directed and produced as my Senior honors project in college (with the help, of course, of some amazing friends).

From the opening scene.

Bartolomea and Benedetta about to get freaky – mystic trance style.

Benedetta on trial.

Two old priests have breakfast.

Rev. Hope Millens (the modern-day convention used to open the show) discusses Christian love.

The townfolk of Pescia, Italy.

The story is a wildly dramatized retelling of the life of Benedetta Carlini, a Catholic mystic and lesbian nun, who lived in Counter-Reformation Italy during the sixteenth and seventeenth century. The work was a labor of love, although I cringe when I reread the script these days (it was amateur work, to be sure, but everyone was amazingly kind to my face… I have no idea what was said behind my back). I spent the better part of a year writing, rewriting, editing, defending, revising and tweaking that manuscript. I was heavily influenced by Angels in America that year and couldn’t write anything that wasn’t a call to arms for the LGBT community (some things haven’t changed much).

Then, suddenly, in a few short weeks at the end of summer, I went from fine tuning into full production with a cast that often challenged me but never questioned my ability to pull it off. I’d rewrite scenes that weren’t working. Linnea, in particular, used to really push me to go deeper in my understanding of these characters (she got so mad when I staged scenes on the fly without explaining “why” people were moving where they were). In a room with no air conditioning or air circulation, we staged a two hour show in a 6-foot by 6-foot stage at the center of a classroom turned into a “student theatre” in the round. Then we added theatrical lights and the cast wore heavy black robes. John even wore a fat suit for our first dress rehearsal (I let him ditch it after that, but I told him it was “payback” for the drama we’d had a few years earlier when we were roommates). I’m surprised any of them spoke to me again when it was all over.

Anyway, I’ve had the opportunity to do a lot of amazing things in my life but I still rank Benedetta in the top ten proudest moments.

Chadaeos may have been holding on to the photos, but I still had a copy of the program:

Credits:
Written by Jere Keys
Original music by Mandee Bowler

Performed September 3-5, 1998.

Cast:
Rev. Hope Millens and Paolo Ricordati … Lindsay Lightfoot
Benedetta Carlini … Melissa Litchfield
Bartolomea Crivelli … Linnea L. Walters
Stephano Cecchi … Chadaeos Clarno
Alfonso Giglioli … John L. Curtis (skip forward to 3:51)
The Angel Radicello and others … Kendall Wilson
The Angel Tesauriello Fiorito and others … Jess Willans
The Angel Splenditello and others … Bill Ware
The Angel Virtudioello and others … Holly Lenz

Preshow music preformed by Mandee Bowler, Sarah Fitzgerald, Sarah Johnson

Production Staff:
Director … Jere Keys
Musical Director … Mandee Bowler
Set, Light Design … Tia Miller
Costume, Makeup Design … Chadaeos Clarno
Props … Jere Keys
Technical Director … Mike Fernbach
Management Assistant … Saralinda Seibert

All costume and set construction, light hanging, artwork, etc. was accomplished by the cast and crew of Benedetta

Production Crew:
Stage Manager, Sound Operator … Mike Kari
Light Board Operator … Jamie Ficco

Quite simply, I love all these people. I’m glad that I’ve reconnected with many of them through Facebook and hope that the missing members of my cast google their names, find this entry, and get in touch.

ETA: Chadaeos was kind enough to scan all the photos he had in his collection and send them to me hi-res. Click through for larger sizes. If you’ll pardon my indulgence with 12 more pictures, I’ll throw in a hot lesbian kiss…

Filed under: personal, theatregeekery by Jere Keys