Top and above, from The Pirate Queen. Top: Jeff McCarthy ( center, hand up ) and company. Above: Stephanie J. Block and Marcus Chait. Photos by Joan Marcus___________
BY MARY SHEN BARNIDGE
Grace O'Malley wasn't a pirate as we think of those romantic figures; instead, she was the daughter of an Irish tribal chieftain, guarding the seas off the coast of her clan's domain against invading ships. Since the trespassers included those of England's fleet, Elizabeth I declared her an enemy of the commonwealth ( with government sponsorship often determining the distinction between criminals and patriots ) . Even so, Captain Grace was as remarkable for her time as was her royal adversary, both occupying a hitherto gender-restricted position with all the difficulties engendered thereby.
The Pirate Queen arrived in Chicago for its tryout engagement with a creative staff boasting many distinguished names: a musical score by Alain Boublil and Claude-Michel Shönberg of Les Miserables and Miss Saigon fame; a cast featuring Stephanie J. Block ( Wicked's first Ephelba ) and Linda Balgord ( Cats' last Grizabella ) ; a technical team led by Tony award-winning scenic designer Eugene Lee; and hometown genius Frank Galati at the helm.
But avast, me hearties! What's a pirate story without swordplay? Cutlasses and rapiers and daggers flash through the air; and sailors scramble up and slide down ropes as cannonfire booms over the starboard bow. However, in this pirate yarn, there's the moment when the mysterious hero removes the head-covering to reveal the long, feminine tresses of—gasp!—a WOMAN! That all these things happen in Pirate Queen's first 20 minutes only whets our appetites for more.
Martial spectacle such as this requires planning no less extensive than that devoted to a show's musical aspects, however. Our mothers warned us not to run with scissors, so imagine the hazards of stumbling while waving sharp-edged steel instruments up to four feet in length. Fight director J. Steven White has his work cut out to ascertain that no one gets hurt while delivering the thrilling action we expect from this genre.
Windy City Times: Pirate Queen is a musical. How much did [ dance choreographers ] Mark Dendy and Carol Leavy Joyce contribute to the fights?
J. STEVEN WHITE: [ Director ] Frank Galati had some great ideas, which I built into the fights. But Mark Dendy and Carol Leavy Joyce restricted themselves to staging the dances, not the fights.
WCT: When we first see Grace duel—with an English officer—they both spin completely around between each strike, almost like dancers turning pirouettes.
JSW: All the fighting must be timed to the music, so I felt that some dance-like combat—such as moulinets executed with the fighters' whole bodies, rather than just the swords—were appropriate.
WCT: And since the other sailors and soldiers on the stage are skirmishing close together, Grace's expansive fighting style— [ characterized by ] lots of horizontal movement—focuses our attention on her.
JSW: The fill-in skirmishes are mostly vertical because there's so little room onstage. In the first sea-battle, when you have people fighting while hanging above the stage on a net, there's barely room for five pairs of combatants. And in the scene where they are attacked just after Grace has had her baby, we have 15 actors, including six pairs of fighters, on a stage with a birthing-tent set up in the middle of it!
WCT: How many of your actors have had training in stage combat?
JSW: The principals have almost no fight experience, although Jeff McCarthy, who plays Grace's father, was an excellent competitive fencer in the '70s. William Ball, the artistic director at the American Conservatory Theatre in San Francisco, decided to have all the students learn fencing.
WCT: Was this a factor in their selection?
JSW: Not especially. But casting for a musical is usually about 'triple threats'—performers who can sing, dance and act—and people with dance backgrounds are frequently wonderful athletes who can pick up the moves quickly.
WCT: How [ historically ] accurate are the weapons?
JSW: They are all historically accurate. Audiences want to see pirates fighting with a curved blade, but cutlasses and sabers [ didn't ] come along until years later. Our Irish swords—made by Lewis Shaw of Baltimore, by the way—have a slight druidic shape, and are less ornate than the English swords.
WCT: How much do the fights reflect the individual characters, especially the two villains? Donal, Grace's husband, is a drunken slacker, but Bingham, the British Ambassador, is a gentleman slimeball.
JSW: Well, Donal is a tavern-brawl scrapper, and the alcohol makes him even more reckless in his dirty tactics. But Bingham is more sly. When he fights with Grace, he tries to get body-to-body with her in order to humiliate her. He's not successful, of course, and winds up flat on his back with Grace standing over him.
WCT: How did you like working at the Cad Palace? Do you anticipate making many changes after the show moves from the Chicago to New York?
JSW: The scenery, not the bare stage, is what creates a show's physical reality. We adjusted from our rehearsal hall to the Cadillac Palace space and will probably do the same at the Broadway Hilton. But I loved working in Chicago. There's more off-stage life in your city, and that's what I'll miss.
