I went together with a friend to stream the Minnesota Historical Society’s production of Runestone! A Rock Musical on Saturday. This review will be entirely useless to you, because the show’s run is now finished, but I figured I’d report on it anyway, for the benefit of future generations. And also to fill blog space.
The production is a fairly low-budget affair, presented on a circular stage (but not theater in the round – the audience sat in front). A screen behind the actors, for most of the program, concealed the band members. Costumes and staging were minimal – the men tended to wear suspenders or vests, to suggest 19th Century clothing, and a few props were set up to suggest settings – including, oddly, a tractor to indicate the farm, though the main character died well before such vehicles became common. A small cast filled the roles, most of them playing more than one (this was exaggerated in the performance that was streamed, as a couple actors were missing. Other actors filled their parts “on book,” sometimes crossing gender lines).
The production opened with a mealy-mouthed statement from the director or somebody, which included a groveling declaration of their profound awareness of the fact that they were standing on stolen land, and declaring their commitment to the goal of “decolonization.” I’m not entirely sure what decolonization means in real life. I’m inclined to think it means genocide.
The drama goes on to portray Swedish-American farmer Olaf Ohman and his son in 1898, as they discover a carved stone buried in the roots of a tree on their farm near Kensington, Minnesota. The local banker persuades Olaf to display the stone in the bank window, and rhapsodizes about the possibility of making Kensington a tourist destination. Preliminary statements from Minnesota historians tend to support the stone’s authenticity, and spirits are high, until a Norwegian scholar dismisses the whole thing as a hoax.
At this point the actors switch to an alternate narrative, describing how Ohman, the banker, and a neighbor could have colluded to create the stone simply as an exercise in “rural humor,” meant to trick the city folks and have a laugh at their expense.
Now Ohman becomes a pariah, a subject of ridicule. He takes the stone back home with him and tries to forget it all until he’s approached by the writer Hjalmar Holand (they pronounce “Hjalmar” wrong), who takes possession of the stone (there’s some disagreement about whether Ohman sold it to him or not), and turns it into his own meal ticket, giving many lectures and writing several popular books. This leads to a final break between Ohman and Holand.
The production seems to lack any interest in making a judgment on the question of authenticity. This is fair, I suppose, and certainly prudent in a state where feelings still run high on both sides in some circles. But it’s also kind of cowardly, and makes the production more a documentary than a work of art. I might mention that the “flashback” scenes depicting the voyage of the Norsemen who may have carved the stone feature very tacky costumes including crude horned helmets. This obscures the important fact that these men (if they ever existed) were 14th Century Scandinavian Christians who’d probably have been offended to be called Vikings. If Vikings ever wore horned helmets. WHICH THEY DID NOT!
I’ve always been touchy about urban productions portraying country people (I hated the Andy Griffith Show and Green Acres back in the day). So it may mean nothing that I found the portrayals here arch and sometimes borderline insulting.
The music was not memorable. This was no Tommy or Jesus Christ, Superstar. None of the songs lingered in the mind. Sasha Andrews did a pretty good job portraying Ohman. But all in all, I found Runestone! A Rock Musical unimpressive.
