The story of “Church Basement Ladies” is as simple as its title: Women spend time together in a church basement.
Chet Susslin / The Citizen
At the rehearsal of “Church Basement Ladies,” from left, Greta Grosch plays Mavis Gilmerson, Ed Romanoff is Pastor Gunderson, and Maureen Quigley plays Vivian Snustad, at the Westminster Presbyterian Church on Thursday afternoon.
At the rehearsal of “Church Basement Ladies,” from left, Greta Grosch plays Mavis Gilmerson, Ed Romanoff is Pastor Gunderson, and Maureen Quigley plays Vivian Snustad, at the Westminster Presbyterian Church on Thursday afternoon.
But this premise positions the show to resonate as deeply as its many dimensions run. It's at once a document of the turbulent 1960s and a testament to female bonding, family ties and church life. The emotional weight of these themes ensures few audience members will walk out without experiencing “Church Basement Ladies” at least somewhat personally.
“People in the audiences come up after plays and say, ‘That was the pastor of my congregation,' or ‘Now I understand my mother and my sister better,'” said Suzann Nelson, who co-wrote with Janet Letnes Martin the show's literary inspiration, “Growing Up Lutheran: What Does This Mean?”
Nelson met Martin at Augsburg College in Minneapolis, where they shared memories of growing up in Norwegian Lutheran families that would inform the 1998 book. More than any particular detail, the two authors sought to convey the significance of church basement ladies as the backbones of their congregations and the pillars of their communities.
“Lutheran” does so with a humor that sharpens itself against history. The contrast between the attitudes of the time and those of today is particularly strong in the subject of Catholics. One character dreadfully asks whether children of that denomination are signed over to the Pope.
“Lutherans were very naive about the Catholics in that time,” said director Curt Wollan. “Which Catholics find funny.”
About six years after the book's publication, Wollan arranged with Nelson and Martin to adapt “Lutheran” into “Church Basement Ladies.” Fleshing out the tongue-in-cheek memoirs with the framework of the story demanded more than half a decade of Wollan's time. The effort has paid off with multiple sell-outs in Minnesota and North Dakota, including the first traffic jams in Fargo, Wollan said. A sequel opened in January, and a holiday show and prequel are in development.
“From the prequel to part two, it's the 1950s to the '70s as reflected through these ladies in basements,” Wollan said.
The largely female crowds respond most noticeably to the show's comedy. Hysterical laughter accompanies even the scenes Wollan finds not humorous, and at least one audience member has actually wet herself during a show.
“We'll say, 'If you're prone to leakage put on some Depends,'” Nelson joked.
Like their audiences, Nelson and Wollan also identify with the story through their own memories. Wollan's mother, Lorraine, was a “church basement lady” who willed money to her church when she passed away. When it used that money to purchase a new stove, the church placed on the appliance a plaque with her name.
“I remember the laughter coming from the kitchen,” Wollan said.
The white porcelain enamel stove in the playhouse's production of “Church Basement Ladies” is one of several crucial props obtained by Property Manager Anna Cable. In the back of the refrigerator, she installed a hole to enable stage hands to switch its contents during scenes.
Food plays a central part in the show, from Lutefisk - a Norwegian cod soaked in lye and then boiled, which “looks like boogers,” Wollan said - to Spam salad. Cable fashioned the meals prepared in the church's kitchen to look edible, which meant making Jell-O from candle gel and meatballs from sawdust-textured styrofoam.
“Fake food is the hardest thing to do because people already know what they're supposed to look like,” Cable said.
The property manager's work must also deliver a degree of historical accuracy of which Nelson and Martin would approve.
“We were sticklers; we criticized belt buckles, kettles, the burlap bag for potatoes,” Nelson said.
The pink pillbox hat of one female character accentuates the heartache of a scene in which she begins to break down at her daughter's wedding. This favorite moment of Nelson's demonstrates why she and Martin have been called “the Norman Rockwell of words.”
However audiences relate to “Church Basement Ladies,” Nelson hopes their experiences will be helpful.
“We try to make people's lives less numb and help them get back in touch with their feelings,” Nelson said. “You understand what you've been through but can also enjoy and laugh at it.”
Staff writer David Wilcox can be reached at 253-5311 ext. 245 or david.wilcox@lee.net
If you go
What: “Church Basement Ladies”
When: Opens at 7:30 p.m. Wednesday, Sept. 10; performances continue through Thursday, Oct. 2
Where: Merry-Go-Round Playhouse, 6861 E. Lake Road, Owasco
Cost: $25 to $39
For tickets: Call 255-1785 or visit www.merry-go-round.com
“People in the audiences come up after plays and say, ‘That was the pastor of my congregation,' or ‘Now I understand my mother and my sister better,'” said Suzann Nelson, who co-wrote with Janet Letnes Martin the show's literary inspiration, “Growing Up Lutheran: What Does This Mean?”
Nelson met Martin at Augsburg College in Minneapolis, where they shared memories of growing up in Norwegian Lutheran families that would inform the 1998 book. More than any particular detail, the two authors sought to convey the significance of church basement ladies as the backbones of their congregations and the pillars of their communities.
“Lutheran” does so with a humor that sharpens itself against history. The contrast between the attitudes of the time and those of today is particularly strong in the subject of Catholics. One character dreadfully asks whether children of that denomination are signed over to the Pope.
“Lutherans were very naive about the Catholics in that time,” said director Curt Wollan. “Which Catholics find funny.”
About six years after the book's publication, Wollan arranged with Nelson and Martin to adapt “Lutheran” into “Church Basement Ladies.” Fleshing out the tongue-in-cheek memoirs with the framework of the story demanded more than half a decade of Wollan's time. The effort has paid off with multiple sell-outs in Minnesota and North Dakota, including the first traffic jams in Fargo, Wollan said. A sequel opened in January, and a holiday show and prequel are in development.
“From the prequel to part two, it's the 1950s to the '70s as reflected through these ladies in basements,” Wollan said.
The largely female crowds respond most noticeably to the show's comedy. Hysterical laughter accompanies even the scenes Wollan finds not humorous, and at least one audience member has actually wet herself during a show.
“We'll say, 'If you're prone to leakage put on some Depends,'” Nelson joked.
Like their audiences, Nelson and Wollan also identify with the story through their own memories. Wollan's mother, Lorraine, was a “church basement lady” who willed money to her church when she passed away. When it used that money to purchase a new stove, the church placed on the appliance a plaque with her name.
“I remember the laughter coming from the kitchen,” Wollan said.
The white porcelain enamel stove in the playhouse's production of “Church Basement Ladies” is one of several crucial props obtained by Property Manager Anna Cable. In the back of the refrigerator, she installed a hole to enable stage hands to switch its contents during scenes.
Food plays a central part in the show, from Lutefisk - a Norwegian cod soaked in lye and then boiled, which “looks like boogers,” Wollan said - to Spam salad. Cable fashioned the meals prepared in the church's kitchen to look edible, which meant making Jell-O from candle gel and meatballs from sawdust-textured styrofoam.
“Fake food is the hardest thing to do because people already know what they're supposed to look like,” Cable said.
The property manager's work must also deliver a degree of historical accuracy of which Nelson and Martin would approve.
“We were sticklers; we criticized belt buckles, kettles, the burlap bag for potatoes,” Nelson said.
The pink pillbox hat of one female character accentuates the heartache of a scene in which she begins to break down at her daughter's wedding. This favorite moment of Nelson's demonstrates why she and Martin have been called “the Norman Rockwell of words.”
However audiences relate to “Church Basement Ladies,” Nelson hopes their experiences will be helpful.
“We try to make people's lives less numb and help them get back in touch with their feelings,” Nelson said. “You understand what you've been through but can also enjoy and laugh at it.”
Staff writer David Wilcox can be reached at 253-5311 ext. 245 or david.wilcox@lee.net
If you go
What: “Church Basement Ladies”
When: Opens at 7:30 p.m. Wednesday, Sept. 10; performances continue through Thursday, Oct. 2
Where: Merry-Go-Round Playhouse, 6861 E. Lake Road, Owasco
Cost: $25 to $39
For tickets: Call 255-1785 or visit www.merry-go-round.com
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