Adelin Phelps, Becca Claire Hart, and Tracey Maloney Photo by Dan Norman

Theatre Novi Most, which is presenting the Minnesota premiere of Sickle by Abbey Fenbert, can perhaps be best described by this entry in the curriculum vitae of Lisa Channer. She and Vladimir Rovinsky are the theatre company's co-founders and co-directors as well as co-directors of this production: "[Theatre Novi Most] combines the artistic traditions of Russia and America to create performances in which seemingly disparate ideas, languages, cultures and ideologies can clash, commingle and cross-pollinate."

Sickle absolutely succeeds in depicting clashing ideologies while also delivering a piercing drama, impeccably staged and performed by an all-women ensemble of five marvelous actors. That those warring ideologies do not get around to commingling or cross pollinating, at least not in the course of the play's time frame, speaks to a historical conflict centuries old, and is again being waged with blood since the Russian full-on invasion of Ukraine that began in 2022.

The play takes place in a small agricultural village in Ukraine. It is the time of the Holodomor: a mass famine that afflicted Ukraine in 1932-33, following the Soviet Union's annexation off that nation. (Historical note: after the 1917 fall of Tsarist Russia, whose empire had long controlled Ukraine, the People's Republic of Ukraine formed and had a brief run as a nation state). Joseph Stalin's aggressive five-year plans brought about financial chaos and famine. To feed those starving in Moscow, Leningrad, and throughout Russia, the Soviets seized Ukraine, among the most fertile lands in Europe, to become one of the "Soviet Republics" forcibly made to join their "Union." They forced collectivization on the Ukrainians by banishing the men to gulags in Siberia and leaving women and children, who would most often succumb to the Soviet army's demands. Most of the grain produced in these collective farms was sent back to Russia, leaving crumbs for Ukrainians. There is no authoritative count, but estimates are that between 3.5 and 10 million Ukrainians died as a result.

The play begins with a Ukrainian folk song performed by two singers, dressed in traditional Ukrainian garb, at one side of the elongated playing area devised in Mixed Blood Theatre's Alan Page Auditorium. These two singers, Olga Frayman and Johanna Gorman Baer, sing in exquisite harmony between scenes throughout the play and, at times, as underscoring during scenes, curated to intensify the dramatic impact of what is transpiring on stage.

The stage depicts the heart of one of those villages tormented by the Holodomor (Holodomor is a portmanteau of two Ukrainian words: holod, meaning hunger; and mor, meaning plague.) The men are gone and the women left to work the fields are never able to meet the quotas set by their Soviet overlords and, until they do, nothing is left for them. A table is the gathering place for the women in this woebegone village. They have organized themselves as a ragtag army, intent on resisting the terror that had descended upon them. Prominent in the village is the church bell tower. Attendance at church is forbidden by the Soviets, but one woman still rings its bell, with coded messages to warn the others about the movements of the occupying force. This is Iryna (Adelin Phelps), whose baby, Marco, who is among the starving. She would feed him herself if she could, but her breasts have gone dry.

The other women are Anna (Tracey Maloney), older than the others and a mother figure to them, though she has never been a mother. She assumes the role of leader, and is called General. Yasia (Julia Valen) deals with her ordeal by drinking, constantly. If starvation doesn't kill her first, the vodka surely will. Halka (Serena Brook) is blessed with more vigor than the others and is most ready for action, if only there were a plan and an opportunity, and any hope of success.

A fifth woman enters the group: Nadya (Becca Claire Hart), who is very young, Russian, and an idealistic member of the Young Communist League. She is there as a sort of stop-gap enforcer, telling the other women that if they don't follow her orders, they can expect the army to come and deliver far worse. When they protest that they cannot meet the quota with all the men gone, Nadya asks, "all the men?," and they tell her yes. Nadya replies that they must all have committed crimes against the state, and so this is what happens. She is naive but merciless. She is also outnumbered, and the other four women are able to turn the tables and make her their captive, to teach her what their life is like and see if she still blithely asserts that "this is what happens."

Sickle continues in this vein, with waves of rising hopes, only to break apart once again, a cycle that gets the women nowhere, other than giving cause to believe it may be worth persevering. Eventually, things do come to a head, but the story of the Holodomor is one without happy endings, so don't go in expecting one. But do go. This is a deeply affecting play that doesn't shy away from the trauma it means to reveal, because such things continue to occur and the pain they cause must be felt if they are to be halted. Not only in Ukraine, but in too many places around the world to list here.

The performances are so strong, all of them, that it is worth seeing Sickle for that reason alone. Each of the actors–Serena Brook, Becca Claire Hart, Tracey Maloney, Adelin Phelps, and Julia Valen–deserve praise, and if an award were to be given for "Best Ensemble," this cast would have my vote. I have seen all five of these actors many times over the years. Here, they disappear so wholly into their roles that I truly did not recognize them for some time, and then only after consulting the program. They create five uniquely formed characters, with differentiated relationships among themselves, that ring with authenticity. Directors Channer and Rovinsky can be credited with creating a small, compelling universe of these actors and this space.

Sarah Bahr has designed a lovely, evocative set. The broad stage area is encased in a low fence made up of upright twigs, with vines crossing them latterly, a token gesture at keeping the outside world at bay. Tall picket fence posts cross the rear of the stage and provide a screen for Davey T. Steinman's projections that depict the sweep of lush fields of grain, a precious resource that has become the source of so much suffering. The properties designed by Ursula Bowden add to the feel of authenticity. Andrea M. Gross' costumes capture the span of a period that links traditional appearances with a new world that embraces such things as industry and communism. Dan Dukich's sound design and Robert Perry's lighting design work beautifully in sync with the production.

Sickle offers a depiction, at close range, of what it means to experience starvation. It also presents five women, each seeking their own way of understanding how it is that fate has dealt this hand to them, searching for any shard of hope among the broken pieces of their lives. This is something most of us do at one time or another in our lives, facing circumstances far less gruesome than these. The insertion of traditional music adds an unlikely connection of loveliness to the otherwise grim conditions, grounding the trauma in the context of generational endurance that might otherwise seem lost. But it is not lost, and that makes all the difference.

People do not suffer and face degradation, even genocide, in a vacuum. It happens within a long inheritance of culture, beliefs, values, stories and ancestors. Perhaps, if there is a ray of hope to emerge from the bleak history revealed by Sickle, it is that when those inheritances endure, there is hope. When they are lost, all is lost.

Sickle, a Theatre Novi Most production, runs through May 10, 2025, at Mixed Blood Theatre, Alan Page Auditorium, 1501 S. Fourth Street, Minneapolis MN. For tickets and information, please call 612-338-6131 or visit theatrenovimost.org.

Playwright: Abbey Fenbert; Directors: Lisa Channer and Vladimir Rovinsky; Assistant Director: Christian Bardin; Music Direction: Johanna Gorman Baer; Scenic Designer: Sarah Bahr; Assistant Scenic Designer: Kayla Marie Mielke; Costume Designer: Andrea M. Gross; Assistant Costume Designer: Lily Turner; Lighting Designer: Robert Perry; Sound Designer: Dan Dukich; Projection Designer: Davey T. Steinman; Assistant Projection Designer: Neil Standerwick; Properties Designer: Ursula Bowden; Dramaturgy: Wendy Weckwerth; Violence Choreography: Annie Enneking; Ukrainian Translation: Antonina Yashchuk; Technical Director: Zeb Hults; Stage Manager: Cameron Fleck.

Cast: Johanna Gorman Baer (Singer/Descendent), Serena Brook (Halka), Olga Frayman (Singer/Descendent), Becca Claire Hart (Nadya), Tracey Maloney (Anna), Adelin Phelps (Iryna), Julia Valen (Yasia).