Theater with a View presents Martin Zimmerman's 'On the Exhale' (first review)

Covalesky, who launched Theater with a View in her sister's spacious Pottstown backyard in 2014, chose a challenging play for her fifth annual summer production. On the Exhale, which premiered at New York City's Roundabout Underground last year, feels immediate and vital, given the steady number of campus killings and our government's feeble response.

Getting inside

Di Monaco sets On the Exhale on a small terrace behind her house. About 50 chairs face a shallow open area, shaded by a tree stage right. Center and left, we enjoy a serene view of the sprawling landscaped yard and the sun setting behind trees at the property's edge.

Covalesky's single-mom college professor first shares her justified fear of an unstable student. She rails against the absurdity of "no gun" stickers — a red circle with a line through it overlaying a picture of a handgun — meant to deter violence.

However, the school shooting that shakes her life occurs elsewhere, perhaps inspired by the Sandy Hook tragedy. Her liberal principles fractured, she embarks on an emotional odyssey. The play, which in its first 15 minutes seems like merely an anti-gun speech, becomes a harrowing story of personal discovery.

Covalesky navigates this well, though her thin voice lacks the range and depth that might better sustain a 65-minute monologue. Zimmerman writes her story in the second person, so she relates her actions using the word you, as in "you close the door and silently wonder if it was all a dream."

This style, common in conversational storytelling, compels us to imagine how we would cope with sudden violence and incalculable loss. Covalesky's portrayal convinces and inspires; she makes us see and understand the impossible challenge of coping with sudden loss.

Sitting outside

On the Exhale might seem ill suited to outdoor performance — though I'm a fan of plays other than Shakespeare's being staged outside. But the calm setting adds intriguing qualities. Covalesky is never more than a few feet away, and Di Monaco bravely keeps her still. The simple (uncredited) lighting provides a subtle glow as the sun sets. Even the breeze moving Covalesky's hair on opening night felt deliberate and revealing.

Nature provides a calming counterpoint to the play's emotional build and surprising twists; we mull an assault rifle's destructive power while birds flit lazily around the yard. Put two disparate things together, and the human mind will inevitably connect them and create new meaning, as late artist John Cage made a career of demonstrating.

The only distracting element is artificial: Toby Pettit's busy sound design provides a constant thrumming dramatic underscoring that sometimes seems like a noisy air conditioner or distant traffic, accented by clearly recorded wind chimes. Its insistence on indicating suspense feels like a lack of trust in the play, or in our ability to recognize the character's dire urgency while surrounded by so much fresh air and pretty greenery.

Toward the end, I thought a moment of profound silence would be devastatingly effective, but the unrelenting sound design denied us. There's a lesson in that, but it doesn't negate On the Exhale's relevance, grace, and power.

To read Cameron Kelsall's review, click here.