The current production at the Strand Theatre caused me to reflect on not who I am, but rather who I think I am. We all do it. Whether it is second guessing yourself, staying inside not because of COVID but for fear of being seen, or even trying to live up to what we think society wants us to be. Bottom line is we are far quicker to see the worth in someone else before we see it in ourselves.
Are you prepared to experience the mesmerizing wonder that awaits you inside a brand new cabinet of curiosities? Are you ready to undertake a most daring expedition to explore the excitements of an immersive theatrical endeavor that exists outside the bounds of time and space? Then step off with Submersive Productions and ready yourself for the most unusual and unique experience of a lifetime. In sentient residence at The Peale Center, one of Baltimore’s treasured historic buildings,
The broad specter-spectrum when it comes to ghosts is limited to the dichotomy of baddies and goodies. There are the spook-you-till-you-scream, chain-rattling, malevolent haunts that will get you. And there are the friendly kind— the happy haunts who materialize for a midnight spree with the vocalizing and harmonizing and socializing. But what if neither of those categories were true? What if ghosts just were? They exist; they drift clueless in the woods while listening to music and have no intention of helping or hurting you.
When I was a lad there was an anime called Paranoia Agent that questioned all perception of reality and illusion. The music was hypnotic and jarring, harmonies clashing with sharp metallic screeches and traditional Noh theater horns and strings. The theme song is called “Dream Island: Obsessional Park.” Baltimore Theatre Project’s exquisite moving work of art, Dream Island, Directed by Naoko Maeshiba, and created by the entire team (listed below) is an obsessional park where dreams are shredded and collaged together in a papier-mãchè sculpture of light,