Murder in the Cathedral

The cast of MURDER IN THE CATHEDRAL

From left to right – Top row: Richard Gustin, Jim Beasley, Durward McDonald, Michael Duncan, Patrick Nugent; Middle Row: James DeVita, William Leach, Montgomery Davis, Eileen M. Devine, Joseph Dempsey; Bottom Row: Marie Kohler, Ruth Schudson, Susan Sweeney, Jenny Lerner (Wanasek), Kay Knudsen

Fond memories of theater friends have been coming to me recently, in the wake of the loss of members of the Milwaukee theater community. This one is of Ruth Schudson.

One of the great performances I saw Ruth offer up sticks particularly in my mind: MURDER IN THE CATHEDRAL by T.S. Eliot in 1988. Milwaukee Chamber Theatre (MCT) produced it and I had better than a front row seat… I was lucky enough to perform in it. The site of the production was St. Paul Episcopal – a Romanesque church built in 1884 in downtown Milwaukee. Its historical interior was an extraordinary site to perform in – its sense of mystery supplemented by voices of Bach Chamber Choir.

Being asked to be in the cast of that production was important to me. My professional acting career was beginning to blossom. I’d been acting in Milwaukee theater for about six years and was starting to collect treasured AEA points towards the actors’ union membership.

Monty Davis, MCT’s Artistic Director and co-founder, had a passion for plays in the British and American literary traditions and had decided to produce Eliot’s masterpiece in an expansive, ambitious production. As an English major turned actor, being in a famous play about an England king’s infamous murder of Thomas Becket was a big thrill to me. Imagine, I thought, what it would be like to perform in a space resembling an ancient English cathedral – and with the brilliant Bill Leach taking the lead. Imagine incanting Eliot’s poetic words right next to (and coached by) voice and text instructor Susan Sweeney. And fancy performing alongside Ruth Schudson, the leading actress of the theater community! One of eighteen actors in all, I approached the rehearsal period of that play with a blend of great expectations, ambition and insecurity.

I was to be a part of the Chorus, made up of me, Susan, Ruth, Kay Knudsen and Jenny Wanasek. Rehearsals started with language coaching and proved all that I had hoped for. By the time we opened, we women of the Chorus had bonded, calling ourselves the Coven. Not quite witches, not quite specific individuals, we were medieval every-women whose fates lay in the hands of the powerful men spelling despair for us. A few lines evoke our dark, powerless story:

The starved crow sits in the field… and… the owl rehearses the hollow note of death. I have smelt them, the death-bringers, senses are quickened…

***

I have tasted the savour of putrid flesh in the spoon…

I have eaten smooth creatures still living…

Revisiting the play today, I find its poetry extraordinary and its theme potent and relevant. In the year 1170, the Archbishop of Canterbury stood firm in the face of King Henry II who was determined to mow down anyone of competing power. Becket willingly martyrs himself – embodying, in that way, the triumph of spirit over brutal domination.

When performed well, the Chorus’ dark poetry foreshadows Becket’s murder. Susan taught us how to approach choral speaking – one of the toughest forms of dramatic language. It demands precise, crystal articulation while simultaneously needing to be coordinated exactly with other choral speakers. Every plosive “p” and sibilant “s” counts in its singularity and timing. Susan taught us to speak those lines – both individually and as one:

Seven years we have lived quietly,
Succeeded in avoiding notice,
Living and partly living…
But now a great fear is upon us –

Ruth was the heart of our choral persona. Her rich voice fluidly submerged into mid and low ranges and lilted with musicality. She became our emotional touchstone. The poetry of the lines enhanced her power as the words she uttered rose from her deep well of breath support.

Dressed in simple muslin skirts, we five women crept and slunk into the knave of the great old church, clinging to its pews and woodwork like the grubs and snakes we spoke of eating: “smooth things still living”. That grisly phrase became the one that bound the Coven. Though we were independent-minded women, we understood the psychology of the submissive souls we were enacting. We loved the words of the beaten women who crept along the humble earth, knew hunger and loss, deprivation and tragedy, and were prepared for more of the same. Scarcity and an existence of mere survival was what life in the medieval world had taught us. Blind power and chance determined all.

Man’s life is a cheat and a disappointment;
All things are unreal,
Unreal or disappointing

Many friendships began in that production. It was a jewel collection of that era’s fine acting talent. Our cast contained Bill Leach, Jim DeVita, Patrick Nugent, Michael Duncan, Durward McDonald, Richard Gustin, Jim Beasley and Joe Dempsey.

“The Coven” (from left to right): Marie Kohler, Susan Sweeney, Jenny Lerner (Wanasek), Kay Knudsen, Ruth Schudson

It was “The Coven” however – with Ruth as its heart – that made the deep imprint. A friendship sprang up amongst us, shaped by the experience of incanting lines in that echoing space. After production closed, the Coven gathered regularly, sharing life experience and humor. (Characteristically, Monty would try to get himself invited to our gatherings… “Would he show up this time? If so, when?!”) There was also an acknowledgement of sorrow. Ruth would listen with wisdom as we shared our yearly installment of life stories, ready to assure and affirm. (I remember well when she told me that I seemed happier than before. It was an affirmation that helped me make the leap towards a second marriage.)

Ruth’s spiritual roots were not in the Christian tradition of Eliot’s play. She was Jewish, though I do not know how large a role Judaism played in her life. As a human being, though, the more I knew of her as a person and an actor, the more deeply I was impressed. Always focused on the positive and humane, never petty or egotistical, Ruth was ready to greet others with warmth and treat them with respect and kindness. Over the years, I came to feel that she herself had the personal integrity of a Thomas Becket, the grace of a Shakespearean heroine and the charm of a great theatrical personality – never with the whiff of diva. Her light always shone through from within, and all in contact with her could sense it on stage and off. In stark relief to a coarse, power-hungry world, Ruth stood and delivered with dignity and strength. I will never forget our performance at the ending of Eliot’s masterpiece. Kneeling on the cold church floor, side by side with Ruth and others, we of the Coven chanted these words into the space’s powerful emptiness:

Lord, have mercy upon us.
Christ, have mercy upon us.
Lord, have mercy upon us.
Blessed Thomas, pray for us.

– T.S. Eliot, MURDER IN THE CATHEDRAL