Exploring the aftermath of violence
LONGFELLOW—Ever since she witnessed a woman’s murder in a St. Paul apartment building a decade-ago, Longfellow resident Elizabeth O’Sullivan has been sensitive to the sound of gunshots. Fireworks even make her shudder.
O’Sullivan says the sad memory has stayed with her, replaying in her mind again and again, triggered at times just by a sharp noise. That’s why a rhythmic drumbeat acts as a substitute for gunshots in “Witnessing to a Murder,” the play she wrote that portrays her reaction to the emotional event.
“I’m at a point where I can share this story in a piece of art. It’s something that can be given back to the community as opposed to healing for me. It’s a spiritual wrestling with the aftermath of violence,” said O’Sullivan.
“Witnessing” debuts this month as part of the first annual Manna Fest, a spiritually-oriented festival comprised of 28 shows, running Aug. 3–12, on various stages at Augsburg College. Over the last couple years, the “Spiritual Fringe” ran as part of the wildly popular Minnesota Fringe Festival that takes place each summer in Minneapolis and St. Paul, according to Artistic Director Dean Seal. Seal, an adjunct teacher in the school’s religious department, formerly led the larger Fringe Festival, which is also taking place this month (see calendar, page 17).
Manna Fest independently reformulates that strand of the Fringe with a wide variety of solo performances, improv, comedy, drama and spoken word performances that range from edgy to scholarly, said Seal, adding that the “Spiritual Fringe” is too self-selected for the Fringe, which emphasizes numerous genres and forms and has also grown too big to accommodate every performer seeking the spotlight.
Spiritual Fringe
Manna is a term common to theology for Christians, Muslims and Jews, said Seal. In Hebrew, manna translates literally to “What is this?”
Similarly, Manna Fest mines all kinds of spiritual, religious and ethical topics, posing that same kind of question, Seal said. “It’s an opportunity for theatre artists who have a spiritual life to express it in their work,” he said. “Very widely different spiritualities get to engage in conversation with each other.”
That rare opportunity has drawn such renowned artists as storyteller Jim Stowell and performance artist Heidi Arneson to the festival, which includes a tale about a Methodist woman married to a Hindu guy, a play about the role of Christianity in torturing victims and a play titled “Jesus at Guatanamo.”
As in the regular Fringe, casts and crews use barebones sets, props and costumes. Shows run from 45 minutes to an hour. It is noncompetitive, without judges, contests or auditions. Performers come from all over, with some troupes traveling from outside of the state.
Being a witness
During her play, O’Sullivan recounts the details of the tragedy without naming the victim or the killer, from hearing the screams to rushing down the stairs to the scene of the crime. Her attempt to stop the violence failed.
O’Sullivan, a writer and actor who has performed at the Guthrie Theater, Renaissance Festival and Theater in the Round, wrote “Witnessing” with the help of a computer voice recognition program (a grueling process, due to her carpal tunnel syndrome coupled with an accident). Her mother, Anita O’Sullivan, also a veteran of the stage, directed the hour-long monologue.
Belonging to the Religious Society of Friends (Quakers), O’Sullivan draws parallels between seeking God during a worship service with that of the wake of the murder, wherein she sensed a divine presence as she grappled with the crisis. Fellow Quakers from Laughing Waters Friends Worship Group, which meets weekly in Seward, pray for her with others as they sit silently onstage, while the pounding of a drum signifies the gunshots.
The playwright/actor testified that, while she has always had mystical experiences, they escalated after the murder. “A lot of those mystical experiences had a lot to do with how deeply people are connected with each other and God,” she said. “By having people onstage like that, it’s helping to honor that fabric of love in a spiritual and artful way.”
O’Sullivan said she has often wondered what drew her to the woman in the first place. “Why did I run towards the sound of the screaming? It’s not like I sat down and made a brave decision. It was a reflex,” she said. “In a visceral manner, I experienced that an injury to one person injures us all in a way.”
Instead of just recapping a violent episode, however, “My real hope is that the play can be an act of feeling and deepening in the community,” she said.
last revised: August 15, 2007