NOMADS's "When I Consider Everything That Grew" explores the intersection of joy, identity, and grief

Upper West Side NY

08 March, 2022

4:30 PM

Description

Columbia Daily Spectator BY SARAH SHAPIRO MARCH 7, 2022 Editor's Note: This article has mentions of school shootings. The audience admires a stage draped in lush green vines from the comfort of their picnic blankets. Immersed in an artificial garden, they imagine the dizzying beauty of a spring long forgotten. August and Colson enter, bickering playfully about Colson's crush before the lights fade to purple and time freezes. "When I consider everything that grows, holds in perfection but a little moment," August whispers. Suddenly the garden scene is not so idyllic, and the imposing headstones surrounding the pair are revealed to the audience, including a newly inscribed one bathed in a warm light at center stage. On March 3 and 4, the New and Original Material Authored and Directed by Students theater group presented its mainstage production, "When I Consider Everything That Grew." Written by Talia Hankin, CC '22, and directed by Camilla Cox, CC '22, the show follows two high school seniors, August and Colson, played by Taylor Richardson, GS '25, and Elias Wachtel, CC '25, respectively, as the pair comes to terms with their looming graduation following a school shooting that took the life of their friend, Aster. Every Thursday, Colson and August meet at the cemetery for a picnic at Aster's grave. Yet as time pushes the two apart, they must accept change and rediscover joy amid unimaginable tragedy. Hankin's writing style is playfully lyrical, capturing the voice of two naive teenagers in a way that is patient and sardonic, allowing them to process their grief under a cloud of cynicism. Important questions are often stuttered and disjointed, as August and Colson struggle to vocalize their emotions and make sense of the unknown. "If I hadn't asked her to come to the bathroom with me, if I hadn't rushed through my exam just so that—if I hadn't switched classes in freshman year, if I hadn't loved her, then she wouldn't—How am I supposed to just leave her here?" August asked. Hankin was unafraid to use the silence between words to express what language could not. Through Richardson's portrayal of August, the coming-of-age story came to life. August was simultaneously terrified, excitable, and grief stricken, navigating her picnic blanket with grace while maintaining an awkward high school veneer. Meanwhile, Wachtel brought emotional maturity to his role that elevated each scene he was present in. Even when silent, his stoicism and willingness to listen proved a necessary foil to Richardson's eccentricity. The scenic and lighting designs pioneered by Maya Weed, BC '22, Celia Krefter, CC '22, and Story Hentoff, BC '24, were another standout aspect of the production. Transitions between scenes—marking the passage of weeks—were illustrated by orange hues fading into purple and then black. When Richardson and Wachtel exited the stage, the audience remained with Aster's gravestone, watching the set fluctuate in color as days passed. It provided a haunting visual of August's central fear: that Aster's memory would be eroded by the passage of time. The immensity of her fear was contrasted by the intimate set design, which centered around the raised platform covered in grass and bordered by vines that held Aster's headstone. Richardson could jump off the platform into Wachtel's arms, Wachtel could step off of the platform to pick up a phone call, separating him physically and mentally from his trauma, and the two could drift off the platform, in one scene becoming lost in their playful mocking of "The Great Gatsby." It provided a clever separation between the world of their weekly picnic and the reality outside of the graveyard. Perhaps the production's greatest accomplishment was its ability to develop Aster's character in her absence. Between Hankin's vivid imagery, Richardson's engaging storytelling, and the adornments gradually added to her gravestone, it felt as though she was present in every scene. "Every year, right on schedule, you'd get stopped for showing your shoulders or your shorts not passing the 'arms by your sides' test. You would launch into some impromptu speech about the antifeminist ideologies of public school institutions and they'd listen," August said about her memories of Aster. Hankin's compassion for her characters was reflected in the wit, honesty, and charm of her piece. "When I Consider Everything That Grew" provided an intimate look at young grief and the persistence of joy. The scene description in the playbill served as just one reminder of the complex ways that these feelings intertwine: "Springtime—just as everything turns that vibrant green that reminds you it's alive, just as the pollen in the air reminds you how to cry, just as the swirling breeze reminds you how to dance." Staff writer Sarah Shapiro can be contacted at [email protected]. Follow Spectator on Twitter @ColumbiaSpec. Founded in 1877, the Columbia Daily Spectator is the independent undergraduate newspaper of Columbia University, serving thousands of readers in Morningside Heights, West Harlem, and beyond. Read more at columbiaspectator.com and donate here.