The light stuff A Company of Girls' newest collaboration illuminates BY MEGAN GRUMBLING
	A Wrinkle in Time Adapted by Ron Zank. Directed by Odelle Bowman. Produced by A Company of Girls at the St. Lawrence Arts and Community Center, Portland, through January 29. Call (207) 874-2107.

Among the most recurring of motifs in our literary and oral traditions is the joining of unlikely allies in assembling the powers of light against those of darkness. This is the story at the heart of the sci-fi humanist classic A Wrinkle in Time, and it is also the story of the diverse artistic forces that have converged to bring it to theatrical life here in Portland. Under the direction of Odelle Bowman, the award-winning after-school theater and civics program A Company of Girls joins forces with local music ensemble Tarpigh and videographer/performance artist Susan Bickford to stage a graceful, ethereal multi-media production of Madeleine L’Engle’s tale at the St. Lawrence.

For two years, awkward Meg Murray (Jolene Bouffier) and her precocious little sister Charlotte (Mikhaila Fogel) have awaited the return of their father, a physicist engaged in secret government work involving space/time travel. They are befriended by Callie (Gina Stevenson), an older girl from school, and when the three meet the eccentric sisters Mrs. Whatzit (Nhi Nguyen), Mrs. Who (Crystal Cron), and Mrs. Which (Karina Masabanda), the youngsters are all whisked away to the distant planet Camazotz. There, they find that professor Murray is languishing in the clutches of a universe-threatening Dark Thing. With the help of the three W’s, the girls tesser — travel over a wrinkle in the space-time fabric — back and forth through the universe to save Professor Murray and further the power of light.

Accompanying them along their dimensional journeys is the haunting original score written and performed live by local three-piece Tarpigh. With Tim Harbson on pump organ and horns, Tom Kovacevic on guitar and nay flutes, and Eric Laperna on assorted percussion, their musical contribution is — like the story itself — at once celestial and earthy, cosmic and primal. Various recorders and flutes evoke unknown creatures, terror, swirling distances; and muted trumpet and pump organ convey a carnival swoon, suggesting the trickery and funhouse-mirror distortions that lie ahead for the youngsters. Underlying melody and discord alike are gentle but insistent conga beats, which measure out the pace like determined footfalls.

Without exception, the young girls who venture into Wrinkle’s world are engaged, enthused, and deeply embedded in their characters. Particularly impressive is their practiced kinetic command of the stage; Director Bowman’s superior blocking has them manipulating invisible forces upon each other, writhing in slow-motion through the trauma of tessering, and spinning to evoke the churnings of space even during set changes. Ngyuen’s movements as Mrs. Whatzit are nothing short of phenomenal — now fluid and beatific as she takes the children among the stars, now spastically comedic as keeps the group’s spirits up. She’s a natural character actress, and only needs to remember to yield the stage to others. Stevenson and Fogel are refreshingly candid as Callie and Charlotte, and Bouffier gives the surly, frustrated Meg a tenderness as well as a deer-in-headlights look of helplessness.

When her character must finally draw herself up against the Dark Thing and her own insecurity, the transformation is a humble triumph.

Rendering visible the landscapes the girls encounter — both spatial and psychic — is the collaborative video work of Susan Bickford and young videographers Aoife Ryle, Samantha Allshouse, Oanh Dang, Sage Wright, Jolene Bouffier, Gina Stevenson, and Ally Heller. Projected onto the backdrop, the visualizations are sometimes abstract (expanding water ripples freeze, stutter, and slow as the children painfully tesser) sometimes literal (the Magritte-like image of a girl bouncing a ball, multiplied by the dozens to convey the bleak uniformity of Camazotz) and they always enhance, never distract from the narrative. That’s quite a feat in a medium with intensity that can often rival that of live performance.

Most stunning in this multi-media production is its imaginative sense of balance. In coming together for the sake of several very soulful things — L’Engle’s powerful tale, the fine mission of A Company of Girls, a rich collaborative vision of local art — this union illuminates. It is brighter than the sum of its already brilliant parts.

Megan Grumbling can be reached at mgrumbling@hotmail.com