Christopher Bernard reviews 13th Floor’s play ‘Next Time I’ll Take the Stairs’ at San Francisco’s Joe Goode Annex
Zach Fischer and Jenny McAllister
Photos: Robbie Sweeny and Pak Han
ELEVATOR TO HELL AND BACK
Next Time I’ll Take the Stairs
13th Floor
Joe Goode Annex
San Francisco
A review by Christopher Bernard
I saw an earlier version of this piece – equal parts poetry, family drama, circus act and dance by 13th Floor, once a dance company, now doing theater as well – as a work in progress at the FURY Factory Festival of Ensemble and Devised Theater in June of this year, and so I’ll begin my review with what I said then:
“[‘Next Time I’ll Take the Stairs’ is] an elevator play, but with a difference, . . . depicting a ride to hell in the belly of the Otis Company’s most famous product. I say ‘to hell,’ but that may be over-simplifying just a hair; as 13th Floor tells it, it’s a ride to ‘a multi-storied world, inhabited by the shades of previous riders. Down is up, up is nowhere, and the memories of who you were can be re-formed by the stranger standing next to you.’ The show follows the adventures of brothers Arthur and Norris, their sister Rabbit, a lasciviously sadistic, compulsively inquisitive lady named Ivy and a disingenuous lug with a big wrench and the suspicious name of Otis, after all five crowd into an elevator that crashes into an alternative universe that is both unforgivingly absurd and weirdly sweet.
Announcement from our creative partners – the 2016 Nature Writing Contest
Announcing the 2016 International Nature Writing Contest, sponsored by authors Rui Carvalho, Sara Rodriguez Arias, and Janine Canan and by Synchronized Chaos Magazine.
We are searching for a new Lord Byron, who can go forth, creating poetry to praise nature and those who love her.
Beauty of nature is one of the nights imperishable, one of the endless days, with horizons made of sands on the shore.
The forest can be seen as a hospitable home, inhabited by humble virtues.
But, for those whom poetry doesn’t love, it matters not.
And this is why we seek high-quality poetry; poetry that expresses feelings with the strength of the undying masterpiece. No injury can befall that timeless poetry, made with the most pure water of the creativity’s fountain.
Please submit your original poetry or short tales here.
Please help support the nonprofit project we have chosen as a beneficiary of this contest, an organic orchard in Albanil, Portugal, in buying a rainwater capture tank to irrigate sustainably without using power.
Rainwater Capture Tank Project for a Sustainable Organic Orchard
Synchronized Chaos December 2016: Loss and Restoration
Welcome, readers, to December’s issue of Synchronized Chaos Magazine. This time we explore ideas related to loss and restoration.
How do we cope when something goes missing? Is it really different when we have lost a small object versus something larger, such as our personal or cultural identity, our sustenance, or the values through which we order and find meaning in life? How do we find what we seek, and what happens when we realize that what we need cannot be simply found and restored, but must be created from scratch?
Sarah Widdup gives us a tale of a mermaid who has lost her fins and ability to live under water, but returns to her ancestral ocean homeland for a time to bring a crucial personal item back to a shark.
Michael Robinson’s poem also looks into his past, describing the rough, violent, but diverse and vibrant neighborhood where he grew up. His piece compares the metaphorical prison of inner city poverty and the lack of safety and job opportunities, and his subsequent confinement in a mental hospital.
J.K. Durick’s poetry probes the lingering physical and mental after effects of war and murder and illustrates how violence can beget further destruction when it corrodes people’s psyches. He further shows how death, even natural death, is integrated inextricably with our daily lives, to where even our phone’s rings can be associated with someone’s passing.
Michael Marrotti invents a satirical tale of a poet who earns money and success through learning to craft crowd pleasing banalities. Jenny Santellano’s poems look into what it takes to be an authentic human being, with one’s thoughts and feelings superimposed on a background of everyday life and responsibilities, as well as vapid fake culture from those who have not yet probed the mysteries of life as deeply.
The tension between popular success, ordinary survival and true innovation is a common plague in the life of many artists. Although Marrotti’s speaker does not seem to suffer to the extent of Michael Robinson, even at the impoverished beginning of his career, he leaves readers wondering if there can be a middle ground where artists can feed themselves as well as our imaginations. After all, in Santellano’s piece Dante’s World, the home fires need tending, just as much as life’s meaning needs to be understood.
Donal Mahoney’s essay describes a community where people make efforts to carry each other through tough times. Even when they only have so much to eat themselves, they ‘add water to the beans’ to stretch their resources to accommodate whoever is struggling.
Christopher Bernard urges a return to community and to values such as caring and nurturance. His essay laments what he sees as a victory for aggression and toxic hypermasculinity in the United States presidential election and calls us to work to restoring social balance. In his poem Trumplandia, a takeoff on the Genesis creation story, he mocks the idea of a cultural ethic built on greed and vapid entertainment and materialism.
J.J. Campbell’s poetry illustrates how racial prejudice operates on a systemic and often subconscious level. J.D. DeHart presents images of power – law enforcement, strong people, childhood superheroes. Also, together with J.J. Campbell, he probes the boundaries between existence and nonexistence, and between having a strong sense of self or an identity crisis.
Vijay Nair laments what he sees as Nepal’s smallness and lack of distinction on a world scale and wishes for the nation to develop a stronger sense of identity.
M. Spear describes a tangible loss in his poetry, where he misses a past acquaintance. His work also searches out our origins, which Spear suggests may be an machine rather than the creator being of many religious traditions.
Rui Carvalho reviews a graphic novel where robotic beings experience emotional pain, loss and connection. He points out how the artwork and color scheme of the graphics helps to convey the story’s theme. A machine need not be purely impersonal or soulless.
Neil Ellman contributes another set of ekphrastic poetry, where his free verse accompanies modern art pieces, transliterating its colorful images into words. The Modernist era in Western art and thought involved much exploration of loss, grief, personal and national identity, mechanization, and finding meaning in a world lost and disconnected from its traditional sources.
Richard Slota’s historical novel Stray Son, as reviewed by Cristina Deptula, points to the value of identifying and separating one’s self from the unhealthy influences of one’s past. To properly grieve the losses of his parents and the happy family and childhood that he wished for his whole life, protagonist Patrick Yaworsky feels he must start by understanding why his parents abused him. That way he can externalize what happened as a product of his parents’ own troubled upbringing and time periods, rather than internalizing it as something that he deserved or brought on himself. This represents a healthy dissociation for him, and a way to free himself from the pain of past losses and restore health and stability to at least his own nuclear family.
Cristina Deptula also reviews Phyllis Grilikes’ Autism’s Stepchild, the story of the author’s friendship with a woman whose daughter has a condition which we would today recognize as autism. The book shares their journey towards understanding Jean and accepting her the way she is while helping her learn to communicate more effectively and encouraging her to develop her interests and talents. Also, she reviews Brett Matthew Axel’s children’s fairy tale Goblinheart, which shows the beauty of being free to live an authentic life within a community who accepts you.
And, finally, Joan Beebe shows us an image of life’s restoration in the form of a new baby.
We at Synchronized Chaos Magazine wish all of you health, nurturance, freedom, a stable sense of identity, and food for your table and your mind. And a very pleasant holiday season, as the solstice brings us from one end of the year to another, as Persephone revisits the underworld for another six months with its fabled pomegranates.
Poetry from Jenny Santellano
Reality Reigns
When they rape you,
and they will
your cowardliness
will meet it’s match
You can not conceal
the ill fate
that awaits you
on the other side
of your fake
existence
______________________________
Fawning Fans
You give them
your blood
They give you
emoticons
______________________________
Starlit Plight
Purgatory
and
shiny-
toothed
heavenly
bodies
lined
up
awaiting
your
beastly
bawl
______________________________
Dante’s Time
Love is in the air
the smell
of smoldering
ashes
Who’s going
to clean up
the mess
this time?
Beatrice,
you bitch
There’s
a man
lying on
the floor
begging
to join
you
Pick up
a broom!
Death is
no excuse
Brett Matthew Axel’s children’s book Goblinheart, reviewed by Cristina Deptula
The book presents a message of acceptance and honesty with self and others. Goblinheart has a message relevant to transgender concerns, but the story could encompass so much more, as many of us are much more complex than what we look like on the outside.
Enjoyable book with intricate illustrations and a coherent story. Fun to read and just enough words to tell the tale of Julep!
Poetry by Neil Ellman
Wilder Shores of Love
(after the painting by Cy Twombly)
I
After the river is crossed
so many unspeakable words
so many excuses
so many photographs
torn and burned
chairs thrown
and mirrors shattered
on its wilder shore
no peaceable kingdom
no place for devotion
conciliation and love.
II
The other side is littered
with broken promises
fragments of concession
and accord
so little time together
and so much apart
we are left as creatures
of our inner wild.
III
You and I have crossed
the river too many times
but now with no way home
and nowhere else to go.





