| 'Air Heart' takes flight |
Published on February 10, 2007 In "Air Heart," a one-woman show written and performed by Mara Neimanis, there's no need to suspend your disbelief. Neimanis, who spends nearly the entire show swinging from a 12-foot-tall metal sculpture, will suspend it for you. In a daring and original theatrical experiment, Neimanis has managed to create a touching glimpse into the life and personality of Amelia Earhart. This was no small task, neither for Neimanis' muscles nor mind, which worked in concert to produce a fresh take on the life and mysterious disappearance of one of America's most popular celebrities. The show, a combination of aerial dance, music, reproductions of historical transcripts and a monologue written by Neimanis, can be read a variety of ways. It is a meditation on the human addiction to flight, a feminist affirmation of the power of independence and a mythic search for the personality of a powerful figure whose motivations we never came to know. "She will not be found," Neimanis says at the start of the show, after two minutes of what might be called an overture, in which she gracefully mounts the sculpture of Earhart's plane, Electra, her arms emulating the wings of a bird as she swings from her knees, upside down, like a child on a jungle gym. She means this literally -- Earhart will never physically be found at the bottom of an ocean -- but also metaphorically, in that her true personality was always cloaked by fame, unable to express itself except in brief snippets at news conferences. To solve that problem, Neimanis has invented a new Earhart for herself. Neimanis has done a fine job of reproducing those news clips and lectures, during which Earhart responds to the inquiries of reporters and students with platitudes and witticisms that she seemed to believe less and less with each repetition. Most of the humor in the show comes during these sessions, when Neimanis' Earhart jumps from city to city, never stopping long enough to catch her breath, let alone remember the name of the town she's visiting. There are also segments in which Neimanis reads fictional letters to Earhart's friend and patron Eleanor Roosevelt, and these provide a well-written and intriguing alternative history that portrays Earhart as something of an overly hopeful romantic. The grace of movement that Neimanis exhibits in the show is often spellbinding to watch. Her aerial moves are imbued with a kind of innocence and wonder, with a slight hint of arrogance -- that inevitable reference to Icarus -- and intensified by Neal Radice's simple and equally graceful lighting design. As the plane rotates, shadows are cast in three directions, creating a kind of three-dimensional effect that makes the swiveling apparatus occupy a much larger space. e-mail: cdabkowski@buffnews.com 3 1/2 stars (out of 4) Drama presented by Theatre Plus through Feb. 17 in Alleyway Theatre, 1 Curtain Up Alley. |