St. Louis is—at best and at worst—a haunted city. Protestors march down Dred Scott Lane on a cloudy autumn morning; underground tunnels wind their way from below the old Lemp Brewery. But amidst such conspicuous bluster this sodden October, a backyard off of Antique Row beckons to passersby. Apple cider bubbles beside fixings for S’mores. Sweatered strangers circle a campfire; an acoustic guitar strums from a humble distance.
What is this place? one wonders, choosing a seat of her own. The seat faces a basic platform attached to a 19th-century facade. Its missing windows betray a looming darkness—wooden planks that constitute a slowly crumbling interior, shadows cast on a simple stage in expressive low-key lighting.
Welcome to Revisionist Inn—the brainchild of Paul Hernandez, proprietor of the venue and veteran English teacher. Prepare for K of D: An Urban Legend, the inn’s first full-length production, and an experience not to be missed. Produced by St. Louis Theatre Circle Award recipients Tom Martin and Em Piro, K of D comes to glowing life through Martin’s company, Blue Rose Stage Collective. A one-woman show nestled within the enduring brick of 1950 Cherokee Street, K of D offers lo-fi theater via hi-def imagination. A dangled light bulb bobbing above the audience becomes a captured firefly; shadow puppets recreate the drama of a disturbing fishing trip.
The Blue Rose team revises what makes theater appealing—not so much spectacle at a distance but inclusion in the act of scary storytelling in all of its homey, fireside splendor. Piro, known best as STL Fringe Fest royalty, proves a riveting raconteuse in this regard, leading her audience from a cozy preshow exchange of yarns to the world of K of D itself.
The two-act play, scripted in 2005 by playwright Laura Schellhardt, proves more Wonder Years than Wes Craven in tone and topic—darker themes are always balanced by comedic moments (sometimes verging on camp). Set in the real-life town of St. Mary’s, Ohio, K of D tells the tale of Charlotte McGraw, a sensitive waif who loses her twin, Jaimie, and then her voice as a result. Piro’s scrappy performance, offset by charming tomboy pigtails, recalls a more innocent age—a time in which packs of teens filched Pall Malls and schemed against their neighbors, swapped stories during summers that never seemed to end.
Piro masters over 15 different characters throughout the play, and there is something comforting and nostalgic about her conscious caricatures of small-town life. They are timeless, recognizable; they come alive beneath shifting tree limbs and floating oak leaves. K of D is less a scary story than homage to the narrative impulse, in all its unpredictability, hyperbole, and chutzpah.
“It’s safer to be wary, more fun to believe,” claims Piro about midway through the play. K of D celebrates the innocence inherent in this act of believing—of telling and re-telling the kinds of tales that both haunt and unite us as human beings.
K of D: An Urban Legend continues at 1950 Cherokee St. through Thursday and Friday, October 16th & 17; Friday and Saturday, October 24 & 25. Door and drinks are at 9:30 p.m.; performance starts at 10pm (or 11 on October 17, for the night owls.) Suggested donation is $10-$20 at the door. Seating is limited, so come early. For more information, visit kofdstl.com.
