Review: Different Stages’ The Art of Martyrdom (A Comedy)

(l-r) Hayley Armstrong as Muse, Bernadette Nason as Abbess Gerberga, CB Feller as Sister Clarice, and Gina Houston as Hrosvitha in Different Stages' The Art of Martyrdom (A Comedy) (Photo by Steve Rogers Photography)

The folks at New Play Exchange, a digital resource that represents Rita Anderson’s The Art of Martyrdom (A Comedy), lists the following descriptors to capture the gist of her new work: comedy, adventure, biography, docudrama/historic, faith-based, parody/spoof, period, and political.

Yup. But they should have led with: thoroughly engaging, highly entertaining, and astoundingly clever. The world premiere production of this medieval musing, currently onstage at the Vortex, is directed with pace, purpose, and pluck by Karen Jambon for Different Stages. It should not be missed.

The play revolves around Hrosvitha, a 10th-century secular canonist (a nun with benefits) who is cloistered at the Gandersheim convent in Germany and tasked with researching and recording on papyrus the abbey’s history. Blessed with creativity, she secretly writes poetry and short plays late at night. All this is true, by the way. The actual Hrosvitha is credited with being the first female playwright, in a time when the thought of a female author seemed inconceivable, and should her work be exposed, it would neither be respected nor published.

On story alone, The Art of Martyrdom sounds like a welcome addition to the History Channel lineup. But the play is a noticeable nod to modern feminism and the river of irreverent humor that flows through it is a perfect fit for a Different Stages production. The comedy comes courtesy of playwright Anderson’s rapier wit, director Jambon’s renowned funny bone (what else could explain her taking on Different Stages’ production of Christopher Durang’s Mrs. Bob Cratchit’s Wild Christmas Binge in 2006?), and a cast of talented, fully committed performers in possession of remarkable comic timing.

The fun and irreverence come early, even before the actors enter, when all there is to stare at before showtime is Hrosvitha’s gray, stone bedchamber within the convent (designed by Ann Marie Gordon and lit by Amy Lewis). There are no decorations or personal belongings, just a bed and a small table on which sit a candle, an economy-sized box of Diamond matches, and a ballpoint pen. These are just the first of many contemporary artifacts and modern-day references that make their way into this production, which serve as a not-so-subtle reminder that Hrosvitha’s struggles as a female artist are still relevant today. And, of course, just seeing two nuns fist-bump is funny in its own right. That they’re 10th-century nuns is gravy.

Most of the modern-day references come from a timeless muse (a glittering, wildly hyperactive but delightful Hayley Armstrong), who inspires Hrosvitha (an immensely vivacious Gina Houston) and is visible only to her and a fallen woman (Kristin Fern Johnson) – an artist in her own right whose existence is also dictated by men – who happens to be seeking refuge at the abbey. Hrosvitha is also surrounded by supporters, including the endearing Sister Clarice (played by the abundantly charming CB Feller) and, eventually, the Abbess Gerberga (an enchanting Bernadette Nason, channeling the best qualities of every older female authority figure who has stoically broken the glass ceiling on her own terms).

There are detractors as well, including the jealous Sister Agatha (a comically menacing Jessica Medina) and a gluttonous Bishop (a very, very funny Adam Rodriguez) who serves as the symbol for all things patriarchal.

Should you see this show, you’ll do doubt agree that the folks at New Play Exchange might as well add “huge hit” to its list of descriptors for The Art of Martyrdom.