Sunday, 10 February 2013


QUEEN AMINA OF ZAZZAU OPENS 7TH JOS FESTIVAL OF THEATRE 2013

The 7th Jos Festival of Theatre 2013 opens on Saturday 23rd February in the city of Jos with five plays spread into one week. The plays carefully chosen by a panel of writers, arts enthusiasts and journalists depict some of the challenges of human frailties and aspects of human behaviour that we all grapple with.

Wale Ogunyemi’s epic play Queen Amina of Zazzau opens the festival on Saturday 23rd February and it tells the story of the legendary Queen of the ancient Empire of Zazzau, her administrative skills, her love for her people,  her formidable spirit in war and her love life which proved to be a fatal flaw in her greatness. The play had a successful run recently in Abuja.

This will be followed by August Wilson’s Jitney which is one of the festival plays dedicated to the annual African-American History month. The play set in a taxi (jitney) park is the story of a father’s bitter disappointment with his son and his inability and unwillingness to forgive his son before his own death. His son had shot and killed his white girlfriend in circumstances that could have been avoided.

The Audience by Vaclav Havel comes next with the collaboration of the Czech Embassy and it is the story of life in the former Soviet Republic when workers and neighbours were not sure of who was an agent of the police or the Soviet KGB. It will be recalled that Vaclav Havel was the first President of former Czechoslovakia and later the Czech Republic. This is a true life story told through his alter ego, Vanek.

The second American play of the festival, Tennessee Williams’ Cat On A Hot Tin Roof will feature next within the festival. Another play dedicated to honour those men and women who have always been concerned with human dignity and human advancement within the annual African-American History Month, the play is the story of a dysfunctional family with a very sick patriarch who meet to possibly share his property while the man was dying. One of his sons, a lawyer believes that he should be the rightful heir while the son favoured by their father is an alcoholic who does not care for anything except his drink.

The final play of the festival is Femi Osofisan’s Midnight Hotel, a metaphor of a sick nation ruined by greed, waste and addictive corruption. It is midnight and the cover of darkness gives room for all sorts of vices and arrangements.

The festival with the theme ‘Challenge Perceptions’ will be preceded by a pre-festival play, Banana Talks on Sunday 17thFebruary where two characters meet to examine their previous lives and compare these with their present existence. This is in addition to the workshops on arts management, salsa dance and directing that will feature within the festival which will also be introducing the songs of Joy Okeshola.

The 2013 festival with the generous support of the US Mission, Nigeria and logistic support by the Alliance Francaise, Jos will employ over 100 theatre workers and actors in the seven days festival which moves to Abuja starting March 8th and where for three weekends there will be nine performances at the Merit House, Maitama, Abuja of three plays from the Jos Festival.
@Ropo Ewenla

Friday, 20 July 2012

AMBASSADOR SEGUN OLUSOLA – AN ENVIABLE TRANSITION


AMBASSADOR SEGUN OLUSOLA – AN ENVIABLE TRANSITION
Ropo Ewenla

For death is but a passing phase of Life;
A change of dress, a disrobing;
A birth into the unborn again;
A commencing where we ended;
A starting where we stopped to rest;
A crossroad of Eternity;
A giving up of something, to possess all things.
The end of the unreal, the beginning of the real.
-EDWIN LEIBFREED, "The Song of the Soul"

Ambassador Segun Olusola’s death at 77 a couple of weeks ago came as a shock. But upon deeper reflection, it settles in as a glorious transition that challenges the living to live a life worthy of emulation. For more than one reason, his transition makes death so fashionable and enviable all because he lived well. As a young man, he set standards that others are yet to beat. In his old age, he still was the man every young man wanted to emulate and be associated with. In death, many would love to die like him. He was, in all spheres of life (and death), the very definition of excellence; simply a marvel.

Life is defined by our rites of passage. It is ultimately defined by death; for without good there is no evil; without God there is no devil; without light there will be no darkness. Life is as much a part of death as death is a part of life. We live to die and we die to live. As in the words of Henry W. Longfellow, the grave is nothing but a covered bridge leading from light to light through a brief darkness. When life is sufficient; when it has been lived adequately in the service of humanity and harmonizing the order of the world like Ambassador Olusola has done, the darkness of death becomes an illuminated path guiding him and those who take to the inherent lessons of his life towards the next stage of their being.

We remember Chief Segun Olusola an actor, playwright and a founding member of The Players of the Dawn, an amateur theatre outfit of the 50’s. We remember him as a connoisseur of art in the place of Ajibulu Moniya in the scheme of fine artistry in our world. We remember the Broadcaster of sterling qualities of the WNTV and NTV days. We remember the diplomat who was the longest-serving Ambassador of Nigeria to Ethiopia between 1987 and 1993. We remember the administrator and Ambassador who understood perfectly well the instrumentalities and functionalities of arts and culture in resolving conflicts. We remember the humanitarian who became a spot of refuge to many others across the continent in the African Refugees Foundation. We remember a father, a mentor, a pillar of support, a worthy and shining example of humanity.

It is death so touching and yet so soothing. We mourn the physical loss of an Icon and patriarch. But we celebrate the memory of a sage and gentleman of arts and culture. The pain of his loss comes with a soothing balm in the fact that he lived to the best of his ability and gave to humanity as much as he was given room to dispense.

The landmarks of Ambassador Olusola’s colossal strides across our world testify to the fact that the dead are never dead till they are forgotten. But pray, how can we as a clan and as a nation forget that a man in the mould of Obatala, the moulder of men, the embodiment of inner peace was here in our midst? How can we forget the amiable ambassador who represented the nation well, represented his community of creators exceptionally and represented the pantheon’s love, commitment, discipline and sense of justice and reconciliation so well amongst us? How can we?

We refuse to forget because what we have lost is not just a number. We will not forget because what we have lost is not just a figure. For our collective heritage, this is a reference library gone down. We must not forget even when we know that in this passing on, we have lost a part of our history. We have lost that end of the story that begins the tradition of performing troupes in the country. We have lost a shining example in broadcasting. We have no more that quintessential clarity of thought and speech as example to coming generations. We have lost in Ambassador Olusola, the overall gentle yet forceful; creative and harmonizing essence of a higher being. But in all these losses, we are jolted to realize that what we have gained is a universe of knowledge about how to shame death. Our father has shamed death.

Now that the gbedu drum has summoned the cotton head to the groove of Oshugbo, we say fare thee well in this transition. Rest well before another round begins.  Sun re o, baba rere!



Saturday, 9 June 2012

Check the dates and have the fun of your life in the next few days. Its a train..it goes...Lagos...Ibadan(UI)...Ife(OAU) and ...back to Lagos(National Theatre). Right now, the next date is Ember Creek, Falomo, Ikoyi, 6pm tomorrow (10/06/2012). 
Yesterday was exciting at the LIFEHOUSE, 33 Sinari Daranijo, VI, Lagos.

Wednesday, 23 March 2011


Mixed fortunes in the Delta


Sefi Atta's play ‘The Cost of Living' parodies Niger Delta "I'm not poor! I'm broke or should I say the cost of living is too high." This was the frustrated cry of Pius, a role played by Toyin Oshinaike in Sefi Atta's play ‘The cost of living'. It was staged on Sunday, March 6 at Terra Kulture, Victoria Island, Lagos; and will be performed at the venue till the end of this month.
Crucial issues pertaining to the Niger Delta region are emphasised in the play. Some of these include: the prevalence of kidnapping, unemployment and inadequate provision of social amenities. The mismanagement of crude oil and the preference of foreigners over indigenes by oil companies, are also among issues explored.
In the one-act play with only two characters, Atta parodies the economic crisis in the Niger Delta. It was written late last year, at a time when the fate of the Delta was subject to much debate in the public arena.
The characters
The play is is directed by Nick Monu; and opens to a struggle between the two men depicted. One of the men is a blindfolded man and the other is the captor, Pius, who holds a gun to his head. It is strange that the blindfolded doesn't beg for his life but is defiant. He attempts to hold the nuzzle of the gun to his forehead and asks to be shot. This creates suspense in the play as the audience is left wondering why.
Pius
Toyin Oshinaike plays the role of Pius, a young Nigerian graduate in Port Harcourt. He is the abductor who holds an employee of an Oil company hostage. His reaction to his prisoner's defiance is at first surprise, but he quickly puts on the facade of a mean captor. However, he is disturbed by his prisoner's fatalism. "Do you want to die?" he asks.
He immediately creates the impression that he is tough and mean but all he actually wants from his prisoner is money. He makes it clear that his prisoner will be of no use to him dead. It becomes obvious during the course of the play that he isn't actually mean but is pushed to this act by economic desperation. "I can't even pay back my family, let alone support them," he says.
Pius represents many young Nigerian graduates who remain unemployed. He feels cheated by the fact that all the available jobs in the oil companies are given to foreigners.
Although he has a degree in Engineering, he remains unemployed while the foreigners are readily offered jobs. The unfairness of the situation frustrates him."If I can't find work here, I can't find anywhere else," he laments.
Pius and his partner, whom we never see, are called "a couple of amateurs" by his hostage. It is clear that it is his first time of being an abductor.
Mike Broussard
The role of Mike Broussard is played by Frank Adekunle Macaulay. He is the abducted who hails from New Orleans, Louisiana. He is also frustrated with life, which is indeed surprising to Pius. However, Broussard's job isn't actually as high paying as Pius believes.
"That's more than you'll pay me if I worked for a year!" he shouts To his employer on the phone, shocked at the huge ransom demanded for him. But he is more shocked that his employers are willing to pay that much. This infuriates him and he maintains that the money shouldn't be paid.
Mike's interaction with Pius leads him to certain revelations about Nigerians that he never knew. One of these is the discovery that Pius is a graduate; this surprises him.
He is a major cause of the turn of events in the play and later facilitates the payment of his ransom.
Set, costume and lightning
The set design by Simone Monu was fitting. The stage was bare, save for a lone mattress and chair which well portrayed an impoverished room where someone could be held captive. There was no need for the props on stage to change since all events of the one act take place in a single room. The lightning was also well deployed from the very beginning where Broussard is brought into the room blindfolded.
The Delta story
‘The Cost of Living' is a familiar old story about the Delta but is told from two different perspectives, that of the Nigerian and the foreigner. Pius represents the Nigerian perspective while Broussard represents the other. It is difficult to tell who the victim really is as events take a different turn towards the end of the play. You imagine that the victim is Broussard with the blindfolds on his eyes and the gun pointed at him. Later, you begin to wonder if it isn't Pius that is victimised by the foreigners who take the available jobs and leave him jobless.
Much is revealed about the in the dialogue between both men, which is the most appealing feature of the play. They see life differently but are both frustrated. The Nigerian is frustrated with the economic situation of the country. He complains about the inadequate supply of basic infrastructures thus, "When we have light, it's a miracle." The play also draws the attention of the audience to the Nigerian culture. Examples of this are the mention of ‘respect' and ‘dowry' by Pius.
There is also the suggestion that Nigerians strive to survive the hardship they face by his words to Mike: "Over here, you don't die until you are dead." It is however a short play that ends almost abruptly, just when you're looking forward to another action taking place.















Mixed fortunes in the Delta


Sefi Atta's play ‘The Cost of Living' parodies Niger Delta "I'm not poor! I'm broke or should I say the cost of living is too high." This was the frustrated cry of Pius, a role played by Toyin Oshinaike in Sefi Atta's play ‘The cost of living'. It was staged on Sunday, March 6 at Terra Kulture, Victoria Island, Lagos; and will be performed at the venue till the end of this month.
Crucial issues pertaining to the Niger Delta region are emphasised in the play. Some of these include: the prevalence of kidnapping, unemployment and inadequate provision of social amenities. The mismanagement of crude oil and the preference of foreigners over indigenes by oil companies, are also among issues explored.
In the one-act play with only two characters, Atta parodies the economic crisis in the Niger Delta. It was written late last year, at a time when the fate of the Delta was subject to much debate in the public arena.
The characters
The play is is directed by Nick Monu; and opens to a struggle between the two men depicted. One of the men is a blindfolded man and the other is the captor, Pius, who holds a gun to his head. It is strange that the blindfolded doesn't beg for his life but is defiant. He attempts to hold the nuzzle of the gun to his forehead and asks to be shot. This creates suspense in the play as the audience is left wondering why.
Pius
Toyin Oshinaike plays the role of Pius, a young Nigerian graduate in Port Harcourt. He is the abductor who holds an employee of an Oil company hostage. His reaction to his prisoner's defiance is at first surprise, but he quickly puts on the facade of a mean captor. However, he is disturbed by his prisoner's fatalism. "Do you want to die?" he asks.
He immediately creates the impression that he is tough and mean but all he actually wants from his prisoner is money. He makes it clear that his prisoner will be of no use to him dead. It becomes obvious during the course of the play that he isn't actually mean but is pushed to this act by economic desperation. "I can't even pay back my family, let alone support them," he says.
Pius represents many young Nigerian graduates who remain unemployed. He feels cheated by the fact that all the available jobs in the oil companies are given to foreigners.
Although he has a degree in Engineering, he remains unemployed while the foreigners are readily offered jobs. The unfairness of the situation frustrates him."If I can't find work here, I can't find anywhere else," he laments.
Pius and his partner, whom we never see ,are called "a couple of amateurs" by his hostage. It is clear that it is his first time of being an abductor.
Mike Broussard
The role of Mike Broussard is played by Frank Adekunle Macaulay. He is the abducted who hails from New Orleans, Louisiana. He is also frustrated with life, which is indeed surprising to Pius. However, Broussard's job isn't actually as high paying as Pius believes.
"That's more than you'll pay me if I worked for a year!" he shouts To his employer on the phone, shocked at the huge ransom demanded for him. But he is more shocked that his employers are willing to pay that much. This infuriates him and he maintains that the money shouldn't be paid.
Mike's interaction with Pius leads him to certain revelations about Nigerians that he never knew. One of these is the discovery that Pius is a graduate; this surprises him.
He is a major cause of the turn of events in the play and later facilitates the payment of his ransom.
Set, costume and lightning
The set design by Simone Monu was fitting. The stage was bare, save for a lone mattress and chair which well portrayed an impoverished room where someone could be held captive. There was no need for the props on stage to change since all events of the one act take place in a single room. The lightning was also well deployed from the very beginning where Broussard is brought into the room blindfolded.
The Delta story
‘The Cost of Living' is a familiar old story about the Delta but is told from two different perspectives, that of the Nigerian and the foreigner. Pius represents the Nigerian perspective while Broussard represents the other. It is difficult to tell who the victim really is as events take a different turn towards the end of the play. You imagine that the victim is Broussard with the blindfolds on his eyes and the gun pointed at him. Later, you begin to wonder if it isn't Pius that is victimised by the foreigners who take the available jobs and leave him jobless.
Much is revealed about the in the dialogue between both men, which is the most appealing feature of the play. They see life differently but are both frustrated. The Nigerian is frustrated with the economic situation of the country. He complains about the inadequate supply of basic infrastructures thus, "When we have light, it's a miracle." The play also draws the attention of the audience to the Nigerian culture. Examples of this are the mention of ‘respect' and ‘dowry' by Pius.
There is also the suggestion that Nigerians strive to survive the hardship they face by his words to Mike: "Over here, you don't die until you are dead." It is however a short play that ends almost abruptly, just when you're looking forward to another action taking place.
In Yeepa! Solaarin, Idris returns as a rascal
By Akeem Lasisi

Wednesday, 22 Sep 2010

In some of the recent plays in which gangling Kayode Idris acted, he either played the role of a false prophet (Wole Soyinka‘s The Trial of Brother Jero) or a militant (Arnold Udoka‘s Long Walk to a Dream). But when he mounts the stage on Friday at the Muson Centre, Lagos, he will be doing so as a Lagos rascal.
He will not only be the unwanted guest of a pastor with a questionable past, but will also be playing on the innocence of the daughter of the man of ‘God‘. In a swift intrigue, however, dramatic irony will assert itself. He will be mistaken for Tai Solarin, a dramatic cloning of the late social crusader, now appearing as a much dreaded, anti-corruption public complaint commissioner, who a gang of government (council) officials want to fete with whatever he may desire.
This is the nut that high-flying actors and actresses such as Ropo Ewenla (Council Chairman); Toyin Oshinaike (Councilor, Education) Bukola Ogunade (Adiyeloja); Lara Akinsola (Alafowosowopo); Yinka Ayelokun (Doctor); Dejo Adegboyega (Adajo); Bayo Ogundele (Baba Fawomi); and Akeem James (Pastor) are out to crack in the highly hilarious Yeepa, Solaarin n Bo, a Yoruba translation of Femi Osofisan‘s Who is Afraid of Solarin?
Directed by tested Niji Akanni, the play translated by Prof. Dotun Ogundeji, is an offering from the Lagos State chapter of the National Association of Nigerian Theartre Arts Practitioners, in collaboration with Mainframe Productions, Lagos. It is being sponsored by the state government.
Our correspondent watched the rehearsal of the play at the hostel of the National Troupe of Nigeria, in the National Theatre Complex, Surulere, Lagos on Saturday. Apart from the inspiring performances that the actors and actresses were putting up, what is likely to surprise the audience is how most of the members of the cast, who had usually featured in plays rendered in English, are still able to perform comfortably in the stage adaptation, which is being rendered in Yoruba.
”That tells you that if they ask you to go and look for a bastard, you won‘t get any among the cast here,” Ewenla, who has been part of several major plays staged in the country in recent years, says jovially. ”But on a more serious note, I believe that any artiste who cannot conveniently perform in his Mother Tongue is not worth being called one. And don‘t forget that this is a play for our Independence anniversary.”
In their fight to eliminate the real and imaginary Solarin at the beginning of the play, the fraudulent council officials employ various tactics, including the engagement of a herbalist (Fawomi), who should ensure that the crusader never visits their community to look at the books. But a semi-moron in the house, (Polycap, played by Femi Tade), who is asked to bring a drink for the herbalist, becomes their undoing. He served the spiritualist a poisonous liquid. Yet, the corrupt goons are still hopeful that Solarin will never be with them, until two clownish spies arrive with the message that their ‘enemy’ has arrived the pastor‘s house.
But the person they are now ready to pacify at all costs is Isola Oriebora (Idris,the rascal) who is, however, ready to capitalise on their ignorance.










Actors Lara Akinsola, Bukky Ogunnote, Ropo Ewenla and Toyin Oshinaike in the play. Photo courtesy: MUFU ONIFADE
Yeepa! Solaarin Nbo
By Akintayo Abodunrin
The performance justified the hype. Filmmaker, Tunde Kelani and Mufu Onifade, chair, Lagos State chapter of the National Association of Nigerian Theatre Arts Practitioners (NANTAP), producers of ‘Yeepa: Solaarin Nbo’, had assured before it opened that it would not be jejune.
“It is a total performance that is taking theatre back to the basics,” Kelani said of Dotun Ogundeji’s Yoruba translation of Femi Osofisan’s ‘Who is Afraid of Solarin’ staged as part of events organised by the Lagos State Government to mark Nigeria’s 50th Independence anniversary.
As promised by the duo, there was no dull moment at the first public staging of the play at the National Theatre, Iganmu, Lagos on Tuesday, September 28. The full house that saw it obviously enjoyed the play, going by their raucous laughter and ripostes to the lines and antics of the actors on stage.
The opening glee, a two-in-one performance by the Lagos State chapter of the Dance Guild of Nigeria (EKO GOND) and Crown Troupe of Africa, was the appetiser before the audience was served the main course. Dancer, Dayo Liadi and members of Eko GOND who performed 9ice’s ‘Petepete’, decrying the stagnation of Nigeria 50 years after Independence, were outstanding. Their movements were in synch with the mournful tone of the music and Liadi, choreographer of the piece, got the extra applause he deserved when he rolled himself several times over towards the exit as the song ended.
The Crown Troupe of Africa’s performance of the late Hubert Ogunde’s classic, ‘Yoruba Ronu’ was no less interesting. Alabi Ademola, who spotted the trademark white wrapper, cap and ‘shaki’ (fraternal shawl) of the late doyen of Nigerian theatre, gave a good account of himself as Ogunde. Unsurprisingly, members of the audience familiar with the chorus of the reflective song, sang along with the troupe. The themes of the two performances, fittingly, cohere with that of the satirical play on corruption and the tragedy of small minds in big positions in Nigeria.
United by graft
Siaman, played by Ropo Ewenla, bursts in on his colleagues in the local government and informs them that Solaarin, the much feared public complaints commissioner, is set to pay them a visit. The mere mention of Solaarin, a forthright man, leaves the group including Edukesan also known as Force is Force (Toyin Oshinaike); Adajo (Oladejo Adegboyega); Alafowosowopo (Lara Akinsola); Dokita (Yinka Aiyelokun) and Adiyeloja ( Bukky Ogunnote- Ogunade) trembling in fear.
Like most public office holders, their hands are not clean and they dread Solaarin for reasons which become clear as the play progresses.
Edukesan who is in charge of the Education Ministry is a rotten official who does nothing other than embezzle money. Apart from collecting bribes to pervert the course of justice, Adajo (Judge) is also a chronic womaniser who jails the husband of a woman he fancies and turns the courthouse into a poultry. Dokita is a pipe puffing and coughing layabout who has allowed the hospitals to completely run down. The two women in the cabinet, Alafowosowopo and Adiyeloja, are as rotten and immersed in corrupt practices as the men.
Solaarin’s imminent arrival throws them into a quandary and they start looking for ways to avoid the perceived disaster. The half-educated Siaman suggests they burn the records to hide their atrocities and sends his houseboy, Polycap, to fetch Baba Fawomi, an Ifa priest, to rescue them.
Underscoring how deeply corruption has eaten into the moral fabric of the society, Baba Fawomi played by Bayo Ogundele, is also a dupe. He tells the terrified officials that, among other things, Ifa wants five cows, 10 local goats, 10 Hausa goats, 16 fowls and seven yards of white cloth as sacrifice to hide their sins from Solaarin. Any doubts the audience might have about Baba Fawomi’s integrity is soon erased when he does a break dance while singing “ifa ki paro” (Ifa doesn’t lie). He also requests schnapps to enable Ifa speak fluently. Siaman sends Polycap to fetch the drink from his bedroom but the bumbling fool brings toilet cleaner which Baba Fawomi quaffs thirstily before realising he is drinking poison.
The arrival
The satire, which more than adequately reflects the sordid state of affairs in Nigeria, takes an interesting turn when Lemomu and Lamidi - two charlatans who spy for Siaman while pretending to be beggars - return with news that Solaarin is in town. Like the others, the duo don’t render assistance except they are sorted. They disclose that Solaarin is staying in the Pastor’s house; and Siaman heads there. The Pastor, sadly, is also tainted. He not only helps himself to offerings, he also trusts more in Baba Fawomi’s power than the God he professes.
It’s a different scenario in the Pastor’s house where he is seen quarrelling with his daughter, Cecilia, for taking too quickly to the guest (Kayode Idris) from Lagos. Pastor is angry with the guest for finishing the bottle of sacrament wine and taking liberties with his daughter.
The continuously twittering daughter whom the guest affectionately calls ‘Cicily Misa Misa’, however, doesn’t mind the attention. She, in fact, basks in it and strongly defends him against her father’s accusation. The street wise Lagosian wins the Pastor over with a yarn to promulgate a decree that will elevate him into a Bishop.
Pastor becomes afraid when Siaman later tells him his guest is Solaarin. Pastor leaves immediately to see Baba Fawomi lest Solaarin discovers his own atrocities too.
The play climaxes with the rotten officials falling over themselves to offer ‘presents’ to the guest in Pastor’s house so he doesn’t report them in Lagos. But is he really the upright Solaarin, the bane of corrupt officials?
Current theme
Though set in a rural Yoruba town of the 60s and 70s, ‘Yeepa: Solaarin Nbo’ reflects the current Nigerian society where elected officials don’t understand the meaning of service; where contracts are awarded at exorbitant prices but shoddily executed; where nothing works. Siaman, whose full name JDG Gbonmiayelobiojo hints at graft, typifies the half-literate official in a position of power. Playing Siaman, Ropo Ewenla entertained the audience endlessly with his excellent portrayal of the thieving chair. The icing on the cake was his bad pronunciation of words like ‘emergently’; ‘gentlemens and ladies’; ‘incongnito’; ‘tomati puri’ and “o si ro pe o prosper lati wa so fun mi” (You didn’t deem it proper to inform me).
But a tree does not a forest make. Ewenla was good but so were the others. Oshinaike who played Edukesan; Adegboyega, the corrupt judge; Aiyelokun, the doctor and Idris, the scoundrel who pretended to be Solaarin, also handled their roles excellently. Toyin James who played Tolu, Siaman’s mentally retarded wife, and Bunmi Mapelujo, the besotted Cecilia didn’t fail to add to the play. They were completely at home in their comical but significant roles in the fast paced satire directed by Niji Akanni. That careful planning went into the production of ‘Yeepa: Solaarin Nbo’ was also evident in the choice of costumes. The characters were appropriately dressed while the stage was functional. The audience had no cause to complain when the play ended.