Review: IN THE GROVE OF FORGETTING at TheatreSquared

Every time I walk through the doors of TheatreSquared in Fayetteville, I carry with me a sense of eager anticipation. My expectations are always high—rightfully so. As a professional theatre with a reputation for world-class storytelling, T2 has consistently delivered productions that are bold, thought-provoking, and emotionally resonant. I may not always know what I’m about to witness—or even feel prepared for it—but I do know one thing: it will challenge me, move me, and elevate my entire theatrical experience. 

That sense of awe was fully realized once again with the world premiere of In the Grove of Forgetting, a powerful new work written by TheatreSquared’s own Artistic Director, Robert Ford, and skillfully directed by Damon Kiely. Running through May 4, this wasn’t just a play—it was an immersion into memory, identity, and the complexities of human connection. T2 continues to be a place where stories are not only told but felt deeply—and this production was a vivid reminder of that magic.  

At the heart of In the Grove of Forgetting is the poignant story of Ilona Raab, a gifted Jewish concert pianist from Budapest, portrayed with breathtaking nuance by Amy Herzberg. As Ilona clings tightly to her music, her memories, and her beloved homeland, the shadow of Nazi occupation creeps ever closer—an unrelenting force threatening not only her future, but the very essence of her identity.  

Ilona is surrounded by loved ones who urge her to flee while there’s still time—among them her devoted niece, Eva Raab (Becky Keeshin), and the pragmatic Henrik (Steven Marzolf), whose concern grows more urgent with each passing moment. Yet Ilona remains steadfast, choosing instead to stay—buoyed in part by the companionship of Niki, her dear friend and occasional lover, played with effortless charm and warmth by Ron E. Rains. 

Later, when Ilona finds herself imprisoned in a concentration camp, it is her talent—once a source of joy and cultural pride—that becomes her lifeline. In a cruel twist of fate, she is spared when she agrees to teach piano to a Nazi officer’s son, later played with unsettling complexity by Will Mobley. The scene between them is laced with tension but ultimately leads to redemption.  

There is so much more to Ilona’s story—layers of loss and resilience with quiet intensity and emotional weight. But truly, In the Grove of Forgetting is a story that words alone can’t fully capture. It’s one you need to experience for yourself.  

During the first act, I was so caught up in the storytelling that when intermission arrived, it felt almost jarring to re-enter the real world. As I stepped into the corridor with the rest of the audience, I felt a quiet uneasiness, as if I were walking through a threshold to my own impending doom. The fear, the uncertainty, the slow tightening of Ilona’s world had followed me out of the theatre, as if we too were bracing for what was to come. It’s rare for a production to cast that kind of lingering spell, but In the Grove of Forgetting did just that—pulling us so deeply into its world that stepping away, even briefly, felt disorienting. 

Amy Herzberg is mesmerizing! I felt every emotion she was experiencing—each note of joy, sorrow, fear, and defiance radiated through her performance with such authenticity that it was impossible not to be drawn in completely. Her portrayal of Ilona Raab was more than a character study; it was a living, breathing embodiment of a woman clinging to dignity and artistry in the face of unimaginable darkness. There was a quiet strength in her stillness, a storm of feeling in her silences, and when she did speak or play, it carried the weight of everything unspoken. Herzberg didn’t just perform—she transported. And I followed her willingly, heart wide open, through every note of Ilona’s journey. 

Playing multiple roles, her fellow actors equally told the story with remarkable depth and cohesion, each performance adding essential texture to the emotional tapestry of the play. 

Becky Keeshin brought a tender urgency to Eva, embodying the next generation’s fear and hope with wide-eyed sincerity and quiet determination. Her scenes with Ilona carried a palpable sense of love and desperation—of a young woman trying to save someone she deeply admires. But it was later, in her portrayal of Marta, a girl in the concentration camp searching for her mother, that Keeshin truly broke hearts. The moment between Ilona and Marta was devastating in its simplicity—two souls clinging to a shred of connection in a place designed to erase them. It was a brief exchange, yet it held the weight of so many untold stories, and it underscored the depth of humanity this production so powerfully captured. 

Steven Marzolf, who is one of my favorites, delivered a deeply moving performance in not just one, but two roles that bookended Ilona’s emotional journey. As Henrik, he portrayed a man desperate to save the woman he respects—from the world, from herself, from the oncoming storm of history. His every plea to Ilona was grounded in heartfelt urgency, and his frustration was as heartbreaking as it was human. Then, in a striking contrast, Marzolf championed famed conductor George Solti, a former colleague from the Conservatory. In this role, he brought both gravitas and nostalgia, embodying the echoes of Ilona’s life before the war—her artistry, her ambition, her connection to a world that once celebrated her gifts. Marzolf’s dual portrayals served as emotional anchors in the story: one man pleading with her to survive, and the other reminding us of who she was before the world changed. 

Will Mobley showcased remarkable versatility in his portrayal of multiple characters, each layered with complexity and emotional nuance. He took on the roles of both of Eva’s suitors, capturing the contrast between youthful charm and uneasy authority, and later appeared as the adult version of the child Ilona once taught piano—a haunting embodiment of the moral ambiguity and lasting consequences of survival under tyranny. His presence threaded through Ilona’s story like a ghost of choices made and paths taken, reminding the audience that the impact of war and memory doesn’t always end when the final note is played. 

New to the T2 stage, Ron E. Rains made a memorable impression as Rezső Seress, the drunken charmer with a tragic tune in his soul. With a glint in his eye and a whiskey-soaked swagger, he brought both mischief and melancholy to the stage. I may have swooned just a little as he sat at the piano, pouring his heart into the hauntingly beautiful Gloomy Sunday. And when he looked out and winked mid-song—was that just for me? It sure felt like it. Rains struck the perfect chord between flirtation and foreboding, making his scenes shimmer with unpredictable energy and unexpected warmth in a story often shadowed by grief. 

Together, this ensemble didn’t merely support the lead—they carried the story as a unified, pulsating force, breathing life into a world both breathtakingly beautiful and unspeakably harrowing. Each performer, each scene, each note of music wove together to create something far greater than the sum of its parts. In the Grove of Forgetting lingers in your heart and mind long after the lights dim, and I feel incredibly fortunate to have experienced this remarkable production—an evening of theatre I will not soon forget.