We learn of her great-great-grandmother’s immigration status, as a “good” immigrant from Germany, though purchased from a catalog. Jen Schriever's lighting design keeps us focused on the stage while regularly invading the house and inviting us in. (© Joan Marcus) … I left the theater with an electric current running through my body the likes of which I haven't felt since Hamilton. Of all the shows opening this season, Heidi's Schreck's What the Constitution Means to Me best captures the mood of the moment in our country. Look out for your first newsletter in your inbox soon! Complimentary and Deeply Discounted Shows. Eligible students can sign up for Prime Student, which costs just $6.49 per month, with the first six months free. And yet Schreck approaches her subject with such implacable enthusiasm that it would be ludicrous to label the show a downer. We already have this email. Want to know what’s cool in the city before all your friends do? Subscriptions to Amazon Prime Video cost $8.99 per month, but the better deal is to get it as part of a larger Amazon Prime subscription, which costs $12.99 per month (or $119 per year) and includes many other benefits. This vet emcees the debate, unable to hide his pride in the well-informed young Heidi. We learn of her long family history of spousal and child abuse and the bravery needed to break the patterns. Déjà vu! At least her title is perfectly apt. Oliver Butler directed the piece, with a cast that also includes Mike Iveson and two teenage girls with high-school debating experience. Heidi Schreck's Broadway play What the Constitution Means to Me, a galvanizing exploration of how the political can be personal, will premiere on … Unfortunately, the lecturing portions of Schreck’s script feel like just that: an evening at a noted-speakers series, a college 101 class, program notes to be read before a play. In the latter third of the play, Schreck invites real-life teen debater Rosdely Ciprian to the stage for a debate about whether the Constitution should be abolished and replaced. Shreck makes us believe that the American Revolution is an ongoing project, that our frequent internal conflicts are how that revolution replenishes itself. “What the Constitution Means to Me” is writer Heidi Schreck’s nearly two-hour, rather heartfelt, well-staged, beautifully delivered lecture centering on the one document holding America together. The teen answers a variant on “How do you see yourself 50 years from now?” Despite her lofty, legalistic, socio-political debating earlier, the teen dreams of a teenly basic need: a car. The shaping and timing of the production work relatively well — despite a few false endings and several bits that could be edited out. A caffeinated speech about why the constitution is the active crucible of democracy butts up against hindsight as she attempts to reconcile her faith in the slow progress of self-government with the wisdom gained over 40 years of living in the United States. “What the Constitution Means to Me” had a record-breaking limited engagement run at the Eisenhower Theater at the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts in Washington, D.C., where it played 15 performances immediately following the conclusion of the Broadway run, from September 11 through September 22, 2019. The two women sit downstage center, as “themselves,” answering questions submitted by the previous night’s audience. By entering your email address you agree to our Terms of Use and Privacy Policy and consent to receive emails from Time Out about news, events, offers and partner promotions. Dany Margolies is a Los Angeles-based writer.
In high school, Heidi earned her college tuition by winning Constitutional debate competitions across the United States, coached by her mother. NYTW on Broadway & Beyond: What the Constitution Means to Me NYTW on Broadway & Beyond: Slave Play Following its Broadway run this past winter/fall season straight from NYTW, Jeremy O. Harris' SLAVE PLAY will head to the west coast as part of Theatre Group’s 2020 – … Schreck (author of the gut punch of a drama Grand Concourse) frames her show as an attempt to recreate her adolescent passion for speech and debate, when she would travel to halls like these and deliver her spiel on the Constitution in an effort to win scholarship money (for the record, she financed her entire college degree this way). He's meant to be keeping time, but as he stares blankly through one of Schreck's filibusters, we know we've drifted away from the realm of strict reenactment. Enjoy live events at insider prices. Schreck brings her timeline into the 21st century by raising the 2005 Supreme Court decision Castle Rock v. Gonzales, which found that a town and its police department were not liable for failing to enforce a restraining order (a failure that resulted in the deaths of three young girls). As with our 12th Amendment, at least thus far, the popular vote does not decide the result. At the end of “Constitution,” the teenage debater randomly selects one audience member to act as jury foreperson and decide whether we keep or jettison the U.S. Constitution.
It's thrilling and the audience really gets into it, not least of which because of Ciprian's on-point and stinging delivery (I have no doubt we'll be seeing her on C-SPAN one day). The debate sections seem freshly improvised. Stay abreast of discount offers for great theater, on Broadway or in select cities. For instance, there's the tale of her great-great-grandmother, a mail-order bride who died of melancholia in a mental institution. In What the Constitution Means to Me, writer-performer Schreck revisits her teenage years, when she earned money giving speeches about the U.S. Constitution, and examines the document's effect on women—such as one of her foremothers, a mail-order bride who came to a mysterious end. Schreck's near-solo show was one of the most unexpected and thrilling theatrical success stories of the decade. If that’s Schreck’s sneaky little way of spotlighting another of the Constitution’s currently shaky underpinnings, she’s as clever as we would have predicted of her 15-year-old self.
Or, contact our editors by emailing moderator@scng.com.
Coming as it did for me on the day that the Senate Judiciary Committee heard testimony from both Christine Blasey Ford and Supreme Court nominee Brett Kavanaugh, What the Constitution Means to Me made it impossible to dispute that one man's pursuit of happiness is often another man's (or, more likely, woman's) personal hell. A good foil for Schreck's off-the-wall mania, Mike Iveson plays a staid legionary, a man just slightly more animated than a Macy's mannequin. We might permanently block any user who abuses these conditions. That's where Heidi Schreck is debuting her not-quite-solo play, What the Constitution Means to Me, an X-ray examination of our republic's founding document that brilliantly straddles the border between ode and indictment. In that case, are we to be much comforted by her assertions that “person” did not include women nor racial minorities when the Constitution was written? You wouldn't expect this from a first glance at the bland Foreign Legion Hall that occupies the stage, all red carpeting, wood paneling, flags, and lectern (evocative set design by Rachel Hauck). She posits her theses, without conclusions. Written by Heidi Schreck; Directed by Oliver Butler.
In high school, Heidi earned her college tuition by winning Constitutional debate competitions across the United States, coached by her mother. NYTW on Broadway & Beyond: What the Constitution Means to Me NYTW on Broadway & Beyond: Slave Play Following its Broadway run this past winter/fall season straight from NYTW, Jeremy O. Harris' SLAVE PLAY will head to the west coast as part of Theatre Group’s 2020 – … Schreck (author of the gut punch of a drama Grand Concourse) frames her show as an attempt to recreate her adolescent passion for speech and debate, when she would travel to halls like these and deliver her spiel on the Constitution in an effort to win scholarship money (for the record, she financed her entire college degree this way). He's meant to be keeping time, but as he stares blankly through one of Schreck's filibusters, we know we've drifted away from the realm of strict reenactment. Enjoy live events at insider prices. Schreck brings her timeline into the 21st century by raising the 2005 Supreme Court decision Castle Rock v. Gonzales, which found that a town and its police department were not liable for failing to enforce a restraining order (a failure that resulted in the deaths of three young girls). As with our 12th Amendment, at least thus far, the popular vote does not decide the result. At the end of “Constitution,” the teenage debater randomly selects one audience member to act as jury foreperson and decide whether we keep or jettison the U.S. Constitution.
It's thrilling and the audience really gets into it, not least of which because of Ciprian's on-point and stinging delivery (I have no doubt we'll be seeing her on C-SPAN one day). The debate sections seem freshly improvised. Stay abreast of discount offers for great theater, on Broadway or in select cities. For instance, there's the tale of her great-great-grandmother, a mail-order bride who died of melancholia in a mental institution. In What the Constitution Means to Me, writer-performer Schreck revisits her teenage years, when she earned money giving speeches about the U.S. Constitution, and examines the document's effect on women—such as one of her foremothers, a mail-order bride who came to a mysterious end. Schreck's near-solo show was one of the most unexpected and thrilling theatrical success stories of the decade. If that’s Schreck’s sneaky little way of spotlighting another of the Constitution’s currently shaky underpinnings, she’s as clever as we would have predicted of her 15-year-old self.
Or, contact our editors by emailing moderator@scng.com.
Coming as it did for me on the day that the Senate Judiciary Committee heard testimony from both Christine Blasey Ford and Supreme Court nominee Brett Kavanaugh, What the Constitution Means to Me made it impossible to dispute that one man's pursuit of happiness is often another man's (or, more likely, woman's) personal hell. A good foil for Schreck's off-the-wall mania, Mike Iveson plays a staid legionary, a man just slightly more animated than a Macy's mannequin. We might permanently block any user who abuses these conditions. That's where Heidi Schreck is debuting her not-quite-solo play, What the Constitution Means to Me, an X-ray examination of our republic's founding document that brilliantly straddles the border between ode and indictment. In that case, are we to be much comforted by her assertions that “person” did not include women nor racial minorities when the Constitution was written? You wouldn't expect this from a first glance at the bland Foreign Legion Hall that occupies the stage, all red carpeting, wood paneling, flags, and lectern (evocative set design by Rachel Hauck). She posits her theses, without conclusions. Written by Heidi Schreck; Directed by Oliver Butler.