The 2020 pandemic seems like a distant memory but it has left plenty of residue and plenty of scars. Many theater groups have not recovered. Some did not survive at all.
The Cabiri have re-emerged. I’d say “bloodied but unbowed” but that is not exactly accurate. After their struggle to open their lovely rehearsal and performance arena Arcadia in 2018, the pandemic forced them to close it only a couple years later. In the absence of a welcoming, permanent home, the group has struggled far more than they should have to.
But as Galileo once reportedly said after being released from the Inquisition, “Nevertheless, it moves.” The Cabiri resumed their tradition of Halloween shows in 2022 with Alchymia at the Youngstown Cultural Arts Center, in circumstances that were positively heroic. After a fallow year in 2023, they returned this month to Youngstown with their latest piece, Vox Oraculus.
With almost twenty years of Cabiri shows in my brain, this time I went with a little more trepidation than excitement. Alchymia I found a bit strained in a way I do not normally associate with Cabiria. Unquestionably much of this was due to the atmosphere of quarantine. It is difficult to channel all of that scattered human energy and focus it into an essay on the link between matter and spirit. That said, after a sabbatical year, I figured many things both artistic and social would have resolved or changed completely. But I am a born skeptic.
Fortunately the reward for my skepticism is a pleasant surprise.
In the spirit of all their Halloween shows, Vox Oraculus presents The Cabiri at their classical best, as straightforward storytellers not unlike a more innocent version of The Crypt-Keeper. Rather than flat-out horror, however, The Cabiri’s stories tend to be cautionary tales with dread at the center.
Here the tales revolve around the voices of oracles. From the peaks of Mount Parnassus to the fronds of the Bifrost Bridge, those oracles have been pulled forth from their darkening rituals by both mortals and immortals to tell of the future. Because everyone wants to know the future, yes? Don’t you want to know who wins the election? Won’t your secret knowledge help you to do the best for humanity?
But such knowledge always comes at a cost — indeed two costs. There is the cost paid to the oracle — your gold, your child, your eye, your arm — and the cost of having to bear the knowledge itself. Everyone understands the first before they even see the oracles. Virtually no one understands the second — which is where The Cabiri’s show begins.
Thematically, the tales are all about getting what you think you want. Why else would anyone want to peek into the future, other than to seek an advantage? Yet as often is the case, such desire is not only the protagonist’s problem but also their undoing. The Sibyl of Cumae for instance wants the gift of prophecy but in fact in reduced to merely a thousand-year old voice because of that “gift.” Sextus Pompeius in the tale of Erichtho wants to know the outcome of his next battle — but instead is witness to a burial, after a reanimated corpse tells him of a civil war in the underworld itself. Odin, of course, receives his prophecy in return for his eye and learns of Ragnarok yet is powerless to change it. I surmise these tales are cautionary tales not just for children but for adults who are just a little too certain of themselves.
Like any good Cabiri show, this one works its way through your eyes to nestle under your skin. With a short prelude followed by six tales of prophecy and its price, The Cabiri take the roots of Sibyline myth and bring those symbols into dynamic existence with their distinctive combination of dance, aerialism, nouveau cirque, and live music.
It is such a pleasure to see these artists at work again. Artistic Director John Murphy and Managing Director Charly McCreary still perform — Mr. Murphy even resurrected his routine with chains for this show — but they have bestowed much of the responsibility of Cabiria upon the rest of their group. Most of them are familiar to me, some less so, but all of them are excellent.
It was lovely to see Marissa Smith, Gabby Leiva, and Lauran Drackett again, and even moreso to have the treat of seeing Jody Poth with the company once more. Ms. Poth’s lovely solo as the Sibyl of Cumae made me a touch nostalgic, and reminded me of how very much she brought to The Cabiri in ye olden tymes. It’s also always lovely to see the brilliant Ken Harris and the wonderful April McMorris, whose work never fails to make me smile.
I’ve heard the music of celadon and Susanna DuMett many times before of course, but this evening’s score was particularly beautiful in its eeriness. The audience were even treated to a pure unplugged version of Ms. DuMett’s incredibly powerful operatic voice during the “Birds of Paradise” segment, and it must be now well-established (and appreciated) how lush and potent it is. Truly it is a blessing to have such music live. It gives the show an even greater presence and definition. It announces to the audience: this is alive, this is now, this can only be right here, with you, and never again.
The work of Rosemary Adams, too, is something of a revelation to me. Though Mx. Adams only appears in the first and the final tales as a performer, I appreciate the choreographic work in all seven of the pieces (the Prelude included). Together with Lindsay Pierce’s contributions, the choreographic direction of the company seems intriguing yet still securely Cabirian.
I’m very keen to see what The Cabiri do next. I was a little disappointed after the cancellation of Garden of Dreams, which seemed like a great opportunity for the group to reconnect with and re-examine themes from their early work. Nevertheless for a 25th Anniversary show, Vox Oraculus was a fine entry. What will they do next? But then, after witnessing these travails of prophecy — do I really want to know?
