Review: SWALLOWING MY SHOUT at District Fringe

Rising somewhat haphazardly out of the ashes of the Capital Fringe Festival, District Fringe is now in its second year and still quite rough around the edges. Operating out of a few rooms at the University of the District of Columbia with a mainstage lineup of eight productions, an air of disorganization—or light chaos—imbues every corner and fold of the festival's operation.

It's present in all sorts of little, mostly harmless ways that would feel petty to even mention if they didn't so perfectly capture the core energy that fuels the entire event. Take, for example, the directions for ticket holders, which, in lieu of a map or proper signage, were sent in the form of a confusing five-minute video in which two of the festival's producers film themselves driving to the venue, parking, and walking into the classroom divided by pipe-and-drape that serves as the primary theater space. Or how instead of implementing a straightforward search bar on their website, District Fringe instead prompts you to "command + f" to find the artist or show you're looking for.

It's all just a bit strange, but if these growing pains were sequestered from the theatrical experiences themselves it would be much ado about nothing. Unfortunately, this isn't the case, as can be felt immediately when stepping into the Phoenix Mainstage and its lack of air conditioning — asking audiences to sweat through DC's sweltering summer in stuffy rooms seems a step too far.

Turning to this particular production, Swallowing My Shout is a one-woman play, written and performed by Theresa Cunningham and directed by Valerie Baugh-Schlossberg, that chronicles Cunningham's experiences of child abuse and her lifelong journey of healing through faith and the arts. Cunningham's story is powerful and as a performer she isn't lacking for charisma and stage presence, but as a complete piece Swallowing My Shout is encumbered and brought down by similar stumbling blocks as those present throughout the festival around it.

There are simply too many elements getting in the way. The work is pitched as a collage of poetry, prose, movement, and song, but ultimately what's strongest is Cunningham's own voice and writing. None of the constant interjections throughout where she suddenly bursts out in a tidbit of dance or mime or belted-out lyric feel as necessary or thought through as when Cunningham is simply telling her story, and if anything they just distract from the flow of the show and result in a disjointed pace that never settles into an engaging rhythm.

Cunningham's delivery is also in conflict with the incredibly intimate theater space, which all but demands a direct connection with the audience. On the one hand, with no amplification Cunningham's voice only barely fills the space; on the other, she seems to largely perform out to a space just above the audience's heads.

This incompatibility is even more noticeable in the sound and light design. Sound cues invariably intruded, ill-timed and unbalanced, while light cues at best added nothing impactful and at worst repeatedly stranded Cunningham in total darkness for uncomfortable stretches of time while the board operator audibly cursed from the back of the small room. Swallowing My Shout suffers from the same fatal flaw as many fringe works — its team and facilities are too rushed, broke, inexperienced, or any combination of the above to make artistic use of production design, and yet too stubborn and/or unimaginative to eschew the unnecessary and focus on the essential.

In this case the essential is Cunningham's story, which has all the potential in the world to be supremely moving, but regrettably remains under-baked. For a work that runs not much over half an hour, surprisingly many threads feel insufficiently explored or tied up. Cunningham lays out beats from her life, but the pieces never coalesce into a bigger picture that fully sets Swallowing My Shout apart from the multitudes of similar one-person autobiographical plays of its ilk — which is a true shame specifically because Cunningham's uniqueness as a performer and theater maker are clear to see.

Reader Reviews

To post a comment, you must register and login.

Need more Washington, DC Theatre News in your life?
Sign up for all the news on the Summer season, discounts & more...