The New York Times explores "Ruined", the Pulitzer Prize winning play playing this month at Peppermint Creek....

So many decades and productions have washed against the muddy wheels of Bertolt Brecht’s play “Mother Courage and Her Children” that the title has sunk deep into the ordinary and familiar. But when the playwright Lynn Nottage spoke the first two words of the title to Congolese women in the refugee camps of Uganda in 2004, she said, they repeated them in such a way that the words became woundingly new.

Related Times Topics: Manhattan Theater Club Ms. Nottage had traveled to Africa to research the brutalities and damage Congolese women had suffered in their country’s civil conflict, and incorporate her findings into an adaptation of Brecht’s 1939 work. Hearing the women, in French, speak the words “mother, courage” back to her — emphasis on “mother,” a sorrowful pride inflecting “courage” — “changed everything,” she said.

She called the new work “Ruined” and gave its seminal character the name Mama Nadi. Currently in previews at the Manhattan Theater Club’s Stage I on West 55th Street, it opens Feb. 10 under the direction of Kate Whoriskey in a co-production with the Goodman Theater in Chicago, which presented the premiere there this fall.

One of the first things Ms. Nottage was able to jettison by developing her own conception rather than staging a version of Brecht’s was the “kind of distancing Brecht strove for from his audience so he could engage it intellectually,” she said. “I believe in engaging people emotionally, because I think they react more out of emotion” than when they are “preached to, told how to feel. It was important that this not become a documentary, or agitprop. And that Mama Nadi is morally ambiguous, that you’re constantly shifting in your response to her.”

Read the rest of the New York Times article here.  And mark your calendars for PCTC's production of "Ruined", playing April 26 - May 5, 2012. 

by Chad Badgero, director of Next Fall   

Last weekend I was fortunate to attend a production of Cat On A Hot Tin Roof at Lansing Community College.  What an interesting and enlightening experience it was to watch a show whose main plot revolved around the forbidden secret of a man possibly having had a relationship with another man. This simple fact was enough to drive the main character, and all those around him, into a frenzy of panic, hatred, distrust, lies, and self-loathing. And I imagine the play was effective for today’s audiences for two reasons: playwright Tennessee Williams wrote a damn good play, and to act as a signpost as to where we’ve been, and the work we still have to do when it comes to understanding our differences. 

Next Fall joins the ranks of Cat On A Hot Tin Roof as another signpost.  As the world struggles to decide where it stands on Proposition 8, whether the Tyler Clementi/Dharun Ravi verdict was appropriate, or the ever-evolving battle as to what the bible says about homosexuality, it is important to consider just how far we’ve come since 1955 (when Cat was first produced for the stage) when even to SAY the word “gay” was not allowed. 

Only now we have different, perhaps more complex issues to tackle, and "Next Fall" puts us squarely inside that argument, in a very personal way.  Don’t worry, the show isn’t going to take sides – it doesn’t condemn homosexuals, or make Christians out to be unreasonable zealots.  It is in fact much cloudier than that, which is a pretty honest depiction of the world today.  It hopefully will send you out of the theatre considering exactly how we feel about that slippery old adage: “hate the sin, love the sinner”.  And more specifically, how do we move forward with implementing that ideology when the “sin” is our sexuality?

I’ve been looking forward to working on this play all season, and my tremendous cast and crew have made the experience far exceed my expectations.  If you come to the show, you'll see an ensemble of committed, caring, intelligent, and talented performers, and I offer them my greatest thanks for spending the last month with me exploring this play.  To our audiences, thank you for being so brave, every time you come to experience a Peppermint Creek play.  We recognize that you may not always know the show, but that you crave the opportunity to engage in theatre that will challenge you to ask questions, to talk to each other, and to try and figure out how to make positive change in our society.  We value you.  And we look forward to seeing you at the theatre. 

by Shannon Rafferty (who plays the role of "Holly" in PCTC's production of "Next Fall")

I could not be more excited about being a part of this production. Not only do I get the chance to work with PCTC and Chad again and to work with a talented and inspiring group of artists, I get the chance to sink my teeth into a role that rings true to so many of my own sensibilities and ideas about life, friendship and faith.

Everyone has an opinion, an ideal or manifesto or philosophy they subscribed to-- formulated from personal experiences, environment, triumphs and opportunities. For some, their conviction is so strong, it creates conflict with those who may disagree with their views. I was raised by two lapsed Catholics-- it was not uncommon for our family to slip into a new congregation with a different denomination each week, trying to not only find our niche, but all of us searching for the word or belief that would fill our souls. That sort of gypsy approach to religion links me so acutely with Holly, who I too believe is eager to fill her ravenous soul with the answers to all the universe's greatest questions.

Holly's not what you'd call devout. She's a seeker, a curious soul who is open to the possibilities that stand before her. It's that delicious ambiguity that allows Holly to see and take in all the paths around her. She is genuinely intrigued by different views, beliefs that might contradict the Catholic upbringing she came from. Sure, she might be a bit fickle, swinging from one philosophical idea to another. She drinks in spirituality and faith from all that are willing to share their convictions. To Holly, religion is what the individual makes of it; she holds firmly to the belief that though we may pray in different houses, all the prayers rise to the same place.

Holly embraces views and beliefs of others as a way to find and express her own soul's needs. It might be perceived as flighty or hippie or New Age-y to some. But every piece of the puzzle she's trying to solve in her life is rooted in one thing-- love.

by Brad Rutledge, who plays “Butch” in PCTC’s upcoming production of “Next Fall”

In "Next Fall" I play a character named Butch.  As the name suggests, he is a bit of a tough guy.  He stirs stuff up at the hospital where his son, Luke, is being treated after being hit by a cab.  "I'll sue the whole damn city if I have to," he says, and right from the start we believe he might.  He is a successful businessman, maybe even a self-made businessman.  He is used to being heard, used to being right, and used to being in control.  From what we first hear about him, and see of him, he is a force to be reckoned with, a bigger than life amalgamation of fact, fiction, and firepower.

Little wonder then, that Luke has been afraid to "come out" to his father.  Little wonder that, having chosen acting over a career in law, in stark contrast to his brother's successful studies as a nuclear engineering student, Luke finds it easier to avoid his father than to engage with him.  It may be possible to have a relationship with the Big Bad Wolf, but it's hard to see how that relationship can be anything other than prey to predator.

So Butch is, to Luke, this bigger than life scary creature.  But bit by bit the audience gets to see another side of Butch: his sense of humor, his fierce love of his family, his care and concern for his ex-wife, Arlene, his outgoing personality, and, eventually, his vulnerability.  Arlene says what the playwright gradually reveals - Butch is a good man.  He's not a perfect man, mind you, but he is a good man.

As a man, and a father myself, I know a secret that Butch doesn't want others to know.  The Big Bad Wolf is afraid, too.  He may huff and puff and thump his chest, but he is afraid.  He is afraid that he will lose control, control of the situation, control of his family and their well being, control of the forces that at times seem to conspire to bring his world down.  And as a man of a certain age, born of a certain generation, it is not easy to share this.  It is easier, by far, to stuff the fear, to double down on the effort to control, to never let them see you sweat.  As a result, it is possible for those who love you most to tremble in your presence, even as you, without their knowledge, tremble inside with fear of losing them or their love.  And so this dog chases its tail, around and around, never getting the joke.

As parents we need to learn how much weight we carry in the eyes and psyches of our children, even as they appear to ignore us, or spurn us, or cringe in our presence.  I remember stages in my daughters' lives when they put distance between themselves and me, distance that I did not want and was horrified to experience.  More than anything, I wanted them to know how much I loved them, how sorry I was that I had so often hurt them, even if almost all of it was unintentional, how much I wished they could understand that I was just a person like them.  But I was their dad, the guy who towered over them physically and, to a large extent, emotionally.

At a point in my life I realized that the most important gift I could give my daughters was the gift I should have been able to give all along - my unconditional love.  Most of the internal work I've done as an adult (and I've done a lot) has been directed at this goal: to live a more authentic life so that I can love others, and most especially my daughters, unconditionally and fearlessly.  Will Butch get to that place in his life?  You’ll have to come see the play to find out.