PLAY IS CLEVER, MOVING, RIVETING

The musical drama "Sakakawea" is striking and brilliant, characteristics attributed to its namesake.

At the crux of the play is the clash of cultures, the varying versions of truth of European and Native Americans.

An obnoxious reporter hounds Sakakawea and her granddaughter in the graveyard. Who, he demands, is the old woman? The one with the vibrant red shawl and wild gray mane?

"Grandmother" is the answer. "What is her real name?" "Grandmother." "What do other people call her?" "Grandmother." The white man finds it baffling. He wants the truth, which he understands to be that which is written, not told, not lived.

The answers are not simple. Sakakawea explains that each one of us is many people. Native North Dakotans Tammy Hensrud-Kerian, now with the Stuttgart (West Germany) Opera, plays the old Sakakawea. Korliss Uecker, with the Santa Fe (NM) Opera, plays her younger self. Both characters long to be liberated: old Sakakawea through death, the younger through adventure. They want their spirits "to fly with the eagles."

These two women render amazing performances. They are a joy to hear. All of the cast is strong, but these two are riveting. Composer Tom Peterson’s score and Bill Borden’s libretto make for a memorable evening, one of haunting memories.

The presentation is stylized, but not off-putting or stiff.

The set is simple, versatile and clever. The almond-shaped patch of pink-clouded sky hangs behind the players. The single set is shaped like the large smooth skin of a drum top. It turns into a boat, where frontiersman Charbonneau’s weaknesses are revealed. Sakakawea, her baby in the cradle board, saves the men, the boat, the supplies.

But who can believe it? This "simple" unreadable girl. She is scorned for her sex. A dozen men boast and swagger that they "make war. Make history. We make nations."

French-Canadian fur trader Charbonneau, who won Sakakawea through gambling, is shunned for his bravado. His superficiality. When Capt. William Clark names a river after "Bird Woman," one of her many names, Charbonneau cruelly reminds her: "Don’t be too proud. You’re only a woman." Although the strength of Sakakawea is the play’s emphasis, this is not man-bashing. Charbonneau sings "Can a man be loved for himself? Does a man have to be strong and brave?"

About 1,600 people attended Friday’s opening They were not the usual sedate Grand Forks audience. Six of the 24 songs were applauded. The warm reaction was spontaneous, not obligatory.

The centennial project celebrates the legend of the Native American woman (both the Hidatsa and Shoshone tribes claim her) who guided Lewis and Clark west.

The conductor is Moorhead native George Hanson, now with the Atlanta Symphony. Director is Grand Forks native Karen Miller, who is now with the New Music Theater in Minneapolis. Both handled their roles ably. The production is beautifully staged. The orchestra never overpowers the singers’ fine voices.

Borden had hoped to cast Native Americans in the musical drama. Although they held a search for Indian performers, there are none in the cast.

In the play, old Sakakawea explains that the expedition meant well, but members didn’t understand the consequences of their journey. They didn’t know about broken treaties, about reservations, about the battle at Wounded Knee. The old, powerful Sakakawea encourages her younger self to be strong, to listen to herself. This leads to her opening her heart to Clark, who has not the courage to listen to his own.

‘’Sakakawea" had a rocky start. The North Dakota Council on the Arts rejected its funding in 1987, essentially saying the world had enough white versions of Indian stories. Borden was angered by the decision. He has a long-time interest in human rights and racial relations. After the rejection, his libretto won an award from the prestigious "Opera Now!" competition in Minneapolis. Borden asked the council for funding again and this time got $3,000. Overall production costs were expected to total $100,000. Many organizations have supported the venture.