Haunting Tale of Two Sisters

Katherine Folk-Sullivan, left, and Layla Khoshnoudi play two embattled sisters. Photo: Hunter Canning
Posted
Feb. 01, 2014

A pair of prickly sisters, an invalid mother and a sheep have blown in on a prairie wind in the latest production at the Flea Theater on White Street. “My Daughter Keeps Our Hammer” by Brian Watkins is a haunting and at times hilarious tale of the push and pull of the past and future, family, ambition and problem pets. Another recent Downtown production, “Marie Antoinette” at the Soho Rep., also featured a sheep played by a man in sheep’s clothing. As stage sheep go, however, although you never get to see one, she’s even more memorable.

Vicky, for that is the sheep’s improbable name, is the last remaining member of her flock. They grazed the wide prairies of a Colorado farm, but when the farmer died leaving a wife and two daughters, all but one was sold off to make ends meet.

We hear this sorry tale of rural hardscrabble life from the two sisters Sarah and Hannah, played with slightly frantic energy by Katherine Folk-Sullivan and Layla Khoshnoudi. Hannah works at the local highway diner while Sarah takes care of both their arthritic mother on the farm and Vicky, who has the run of the house.

Both women want out of their prairie lives and their fortunes appear to depend on their father’s other legacy, a Ford truck their mother has lovingly kept in the garage since he died. The daughters are frustrated by their mother’s refusal to use the truck or at least sell it. But they are also baffled and threatened by her affection for Vicky.

We soon learn it will be the sheep and not the truck that will play a key role in who will stay and who will go. “My Dad always used to say that you can’t stop somethin’ that’s comin’. It’ll be here soon enough,” Hannah prophetically says. From there on the daughters’ lives unravel like a ball of freshly spun wool.

This is the play’s world premiere and it brings the underrepresented modern Wild West to New York theater. Brian Watkins has captured the desperation of these women watching their dreams slip away in the middle of nowhere. “So whatever problem you got’s just bound to swallow itself in the silence,” Sarah plaintively bleats.

Danya Taymor directs and yes, she is Julie’s daughter. Here, she makes good use of the intimate space of the downstairs theater with the actors frequently making eye contact with the audience even while they rarely interact with each other.Their versions of events contradict each other, giving the impression of a rushed confessional or a hurried statement to the police.

As the story gathers pace, the women start to build a fire in the middle of the stage. It’s one of the few moments of stage business and helps creates suspense as the women draw closer to inevitable disaster. The speed with which they remember what happened suggests the process is to some degree cathartic for them. For the audience, how­ever, the ride gets wilder by the minute—the play lasts barely an hour with no intermission and at times it might have helped to slow down just a little.

The sisters’ relationship with Vicky comes to a head when they are finally getting along while cooking a birthday dinner for their mother. Be sure to pay attention to a ghost story told at the beginning of the play—its significance will resonate at the end and perhaps unlock the mystery of the sheep and her hold on this family.

“My Daughter Keeps Our Ham­mer,” written by Brian Watkins and dir­ected by Tanya Taymor. Through Sat­urday, Feb. 15. at The Flea, 41 White St. Tickets, $25 and $35, at theflea.org.