Despite obscurity during his own time, Georg Buchner is now credited with helping create both expressionism and naturalism for the stage. This production of Leonce and Lena makes it clear that he should get some credit for theater of the absurd as well.

Though it's hard to connect with the relentlessly foolish characters, the production nevertheless delivers this rarity - overshadowed by Danton's Death and Woyzeck - with great flair under Lenard Petit's direction.

The play was written by Buchner in 1836 for a literary competition, but it failed to meet the deadline and was returned unread. Had the judges shown more leniency, they'd have found the story of Prince Leonce (Jonathan Fielding) of the kingdom of Poo Poo, who spends his days counting grains of sand and trying to look down upon his own head. All he has learned through such experiments is that "horrible idleness…is the root of every vice," he says. "Why do I, of all people, have to know that?"

His father, King Peter, (Dalane Mason), is even more useless in his peacock-feather crown, moving his limbs only with the aid of servants who use long poles to manipulate him like gondoliers. The king can't dress himself, but he does manage to get Leonce betrothed to Princess Lena, (Keirin Brown) of the kingdom of Pi Pi.

This only leaves the prince feeling "like a lamb that's going to be sacrificed." So he and his friend Valerio (Carman Lacivita) disguise themselves as beggars and hit the road in search of a woman "infinitely beautiful and infinitely unintellectual."

Given those qualifications, it seems that the prince and Lena are indeed meant for each other. And since she's fleeing the wedding too, it's only right that they meet and fall in love incognito.

Mr. Petit cultivates a dotty, slapstick atmosphere by encouraging silly gestures and unexpected acrobatics from his well-tuned cast. Kathleen Anderson Milne's set, Chad R. Jung's lighting, and Laura Anderson Barbata's eccentric costumes underscore the play's larger-than-life nature with color and form. Buchner was to go on to more serious and substantial work, but this piece preserves a time when he would seem obsessed with nothing but fun.

Dallas Morning News

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Hailed by the village Voice as "one of the most innovative musicians of his generation," pianist/composer D.D. Jackson and his trio to perform Jackson's struttin' original music that seamlessly blends with Gonzalez's brilliant comic spark and vibrant performance style. Directed by Lenard Petit

First, audiences journey into Hades with Jazz Orpheus. In his search for his lost wife Eurydice, Orpheus swings and serenades his way through the ordeals of the underworld. In the second story, Delgadina, a kind-hearted girl befriends a magical red snake, who gives her a "Midas" touch. Generous with her gift and courted by a King, Delagadina is nearly destroyed by a jealous witch who proves no match for her enchanted guardian.

"With speech, sound, mime, dance and above all, inspired imagination, Mr. Gonzalez has the gift of creating magical worlds and drawing his audience into them. A palpable delight." New York Times