The ladies of Chinquipin Parish

We couldn’t be more different, nor more alike. Seven women, who came together for a summer-long project that will end this weekend, with the final performance of “Steel Magnolias,” at the Rivoli Theater in South Fallsburg, NY.

The Rivoli, a once-elegant small-town movie theater, now abandoned by the movies for a sterile multiplex, is the home of the Sullivan County Dramatic Workshop. The workshop, whose name conveys an institutional aura, is an invention of a few small-town theater buffs who needed an outlet for their underused talents. It has been putting on plays for 56 years now, giving life to a community through productions that employ the talents of that community.

And the talents abound. There’s Ashley Nygard, the 17-year-old high school senior who has blossomed from an apparently shy, soft-spoken part-time supermarket clerk to an actress who can shine among more formally trained thespians.

Lori Schneider-Wendt, who directed this production of “Steel Magnolias,” is a theater buff extraordinaire with a small-town heart and big-time talent. Sixteen years ago, she played the ingenue lead, Shelby, in a workshop production that was favorably compared to the off-Broadway production, by local reviewers. Now, she’s helping other actors shape their visions of these highly original small-town women.

An author’s note in the script cautions, “The women in this play are witty, intelligent, and above all, real characters. They are in no way, shape or form meant to be portrayed as cartoons or caricatures.”

These words grew in significance to all of us as we rehearsed this summer. As we gave ourselves over to our parts, and to Robert Harling’s beautifully crafted dialogue, we were determined to do justice to the humanity of our characters.

For me, weekly rehearsals were often the only bright spots in a summer dulled by the June flood. The emotional tensions of a household disrupted by flood water and construction dust—and the financial stress that accompanied it all—were let loose on the stage of the Rivoli, in the form of grieving for my character’s very different kind of loss.

Set in a Southern beauty shop, “Steel Magnolias” presents a setting unfamiliar to most of the cast. The actress Cookie House, who plays Truvy, the shop owner, eschews makeup and fancy hairstyles in real life, as do most of her workshop counterparts. But, as Truvy, she dyes and rolls with the best of them, even agreeing to tease my newly-shorn locks to achieve the “rusty football helmet” look my character requires. Teasing, in real life, is anathema to Cookie—but is Truvy’s life blood. As foreign as her character’s occupation is, her essence has seeped into Cookie’s soul and is released in rapid-fire dialogue that seasons all four scenes of this jam-packed tear-jerker.

Annie Hat, known to area rock ‘n rollers as the voice behind and in front of the Vantwistics, may be the most “professional” actor in the cast, with the Equity card to prove it, but she never deliberately outshines her fellow actors. A trained ensemble actor, Annie inhabits the juicy role of Ouiser Boudreaux—described in the script as a “wealthy curmudgeon,” from day one of rehearsal. Her voice is a generous tool that brings depth to her character as it carries its melody to the back row of the cavernous theater. And she will give you the shirt off her back, if you ask for it.

Rebecca Robbins, who plays Shelby—the prettiest girl in town—is more than capable of fulfilling that aspect of her character. But as an actress she is more than a beautiful young woman. She will break your heart if you’re not careful. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

As Miss Clairee, Katie Taylor has more good lines than anyone. “I love you more than my luggage,” is a cast favorite. Over the course of rehearsals she has come to walk, talk and even sneeze like Miss Clairee, as well as to serve as the unofficial costume designer for us all. Her surprising bit of business in the last scene releases an emotional tension for cast, crew and audience members.

As a group, the ladies of Chinquipin Parish, Louisiana, are as real as they come, not a cartoon among them.