Hosannas for Fools Mass

As promised a few days ago, I traveled out to Park Slope to see the first performance of the 25th Anniversary season of Dzieci Theatre’s Fools Mass last night. This is the second of a projected three looks at the company and the production. The first was a simple informational notice that it was happening, with some background on the company and its lead artist Matt Mitler. The projected third one, which probably won’t emerge for a few months, will be an in-depth portrait of the company and investigation of their process. The present one proposes to be more of a snapshot of what I saw last night, and what I was bringing to it as an audience member.

This is not a review, btw. I don’t believe reviews, as such, are appropriate responses to work like this, which aren’t intended to be “shows” or “spectacles” per se but something higher. Ritual, like theatre, is intended to synthesize an experience, but not merely an emotional one. What is sought is some kind of transcendence. The best theatre does that as well, which is why Dzieci calls itself a theatre. But let’s face it, how much theatre do you see that actually produces something like transcendence? About 1%? And about 5% of theatre companies (apparently) even have it on their agenda. There was an older couple sitting behind me last night, for example, of the sort I have encountered a thousand times at such performances. They sighed and tsked and muttered all through the show that it was “not what they were expecting”. At one point in the presentation, when the characters were literally wishing the blessings of peace on mankind, I hear the woman behind me go “If we leave now, maybe can take our donation out of the basket and go get a bite to eat.”

Ladies and gentlemen: never be those people. The Fools Mass is an amazing experience. I’m certain to attend it again in future. You’d have to have a heart of stone and a head full of cement to witness it and not be moved and touched, and a little thrilled and a little awed. And I won’t give vent to the full scope of my misanthropy when it comes to audiences here mostly because it is contrary to the generosity of spirit embodied by the Dzieci company. Truth to tell I have been plagued by an ambivalence to the professional theatre throughout my entire adult life. I don’t seem to be seeking the same things most other people want from the theatre. Most modern musicals (and by that I mean since 1940) fill me with cringing and revulsion, for example. It’s almost invariably the case that whatever audiences are flocking to see, it’s something I can’t stand (Hamilton was a rare exception). I’m looking for something pure and elemental, an experience that lays everything bare. I don’t want it coarsened and commodified. I’m not there for gimcracks and gewgaws. I am SUPREMELY not there for trends. Quite the opposite. I am there for the 10,000 year experience. I am there to experience what our ancestors experienced around campfires. It doesn’t have to be solemn, but it does have to connect. It has to be an act of communion and not a rip-off. I traveled three hours to attend a one hour presentation last night and was glad I did so. Many’s the time I have really wanted to walk out of big budget shows the instant the lights dim and an actor speaks the first line.

Ha! I said “communion”. The concept needn’t be quite so literal but in this case it is. The premise, as detailed in our previous post, is that we are in a church in Medieval Europe, the priest has died, and a group of the people whom our society euphemistically calls “special” comfort themselves by carrying out a Christmas mass themselves, as best they can. The cast members, who never break character, meet you at the door. Beautifully costumed by Karen Hatt, the company represent the most forsaken of outcasts in any society, particularly in ages past. The sort of people who were once known as “village idiots”, the mentally challenged and emotionally distressed. Some have physical infirmities. All are child-like at best in terms of mental capacity. (“Dzieci”, btw, is Polish for “Children”.) Yet, they feel an obligation to carry on with something meaningful and familiar. And so they enact the mass, step by step, as best they can remember how it goes, which (speaking frankly) isn’t much worse than most of us would do, and, in terms of intention, is a good bit better.

The mass is a collective effort on their part, and they draw the audience in as well. I was called on to be Joseph in a little pageant interlude and I chickened out (ironic, because I used to play that very same role in the Christmas pageants at my church as a kid. It was my first theatre experience!). Luckily there was another gent in the group who was a little more game. Another lady was called to the lectern to read an Old Testament passage. (For several minutes I thought she was an audience plant because she was attired in some kind of 1940s cosplay, threatening to upstage the entire production. I’m looking around, it’s the Middle Ages, it’s the 1940s. What is this, Westworld?) The actors themselves present us with beautiful choral singing, impressive physical body work, and characterizations somewhere in the liminal space beyond clown. It’s a very Catholic experience, by definition, but the the production is very careful to include some respectful nods to the two other Abrahamic faiths.

Last night’s performance was at the Old First Reformed Church in Park Slope. A cleric was in attendance and she seemed totally pleased with the production. One of the interesting aspects of the Fools Mass is the holistic nature of the experience. It is not sacrilegious, though one might be forgiven for suspecting that it might be. The historical tradition of the Feast of Fools, for example, had been a kind of officially sanctioned Black Mass, designed to let off steam. This is much more like a reinterpretation of one of the best known stories in the world from another perspective, imperfect in its mechanics, but flawless in spirit. An entire company of Holy Fools, full of the light of purity. They themselves are Christlike.

It’s a wonderful thing to contemplate at the start of the Christmas season, and on the heels of the panto I’d seen the night before, mine is shaping up to be a merry one indeed. More info on Fools Mass and a schedule of the remaining performances is here.