Review: Italian ‘Letters of Love’ monologue at The Marsh could be more animated
It's an intriguing idea for a solo show, to find out what happens when a woman named Mara, packing up her late mother's belongings, comes upon a packet of handwritten letters after the funeral.
Signed "Gabriele," the letters in "Lettere d'Amore" onstage at The Marsh in San Francisco are romantic, poetic and impassioned, apparently written by the famous Italian poet to "Barbara," Mara's mother.
But the Mama that Mara knew was cold, stern, unhappy. And Mara thought her marriage to Mara's father seemed to be loveless. Apparently, Mama was having a secret affair with Gabriele all along.
How does this adult daughter process such a confusing revelation? In what ways must she re-evaluate her own childhood and her relationship with her mother?
"Where was I when you were loving him? Who did I have for a mother?" she wonders.
The 90-minute monologue by longtime Italian feminist playwright and novelist Dacia Maraini is translated, directed and performed at The Marsh by American stage, film and TV actor Francesca Fanti, who speaks with a lilting Italian accent.
Fanti is a delicate, sympathetic onstage presence, instantly likeable, always emotionally truthful.
But Maraini's dramatic structure is problematic. How does such a monologue sustain audience interest, consisting as it does mostly of Mara reading long, flowery letters? Now and then she gazes out, sometimes speaking directly to Mama, other times to herself, wondering, puzzled, thrilled, horrified, sad.
As the tenor of the letters eventually changes—perhaps as Gabriele is dying—there's simply not enough happening onstage for one person, head down, to read for such a long time.
Fanti as director has tried to inject variety. In the background, there's gentle piano music by Carlo Siliotto and Mama's voice murmuring indecipherably. A few video projections of Italian panoramas break up the visual monotony to a degree, but as Mara reads each letter, then tosses it to the floor, sometimes with delight, other times in a rage, audiences might find themselves wondering impatiently just how many more letters are left in the thick packet in her hand.
Maybe, performed in Italian, the piece works better. The letters' poetic forms of expression seem to call out for the exquisite musicality of the Italian language.
But ultimately, Fanti, in her directorial role, hasn't figured out how to animate the story.
Maraini provides a sort of trick ending to the piece, which unfortunately seems to undercut Mara's entire emotional journey. Maybe "Lettere d'Amore" work better on the printed page than onstage.
