This event is recounted and recalled many times throughout the evening, part of the historical binding holding the play together.  It also reflects the activities of the Bated Breath Theatre Company itself, several of whose members descended upon the Parkville section of Hartford with their laptops and tape recorders starting in 2008 to conduct. Laramie Project-style interviews with members of that community.  Because Parkville enjoys such a rich and diverse history, at one point being the center of Portuguese culture in the city, the theater company obtained a variety of stories and experiences that they compressed into the multi-generational story of the fictional Sedano’s, a Portuguese-Cuban family whose members worked at the Royal plant, one of a number of factories in the area, including typewriter competitor Underwood and the Columbia Bicycle Company.

The result is a story about the many perils of immigration, not only the legal dilemmas faced by illegal immigrants but also about the unanticipated costs to personal and family life that can result.  It also tries, less successfully, to be a story of love and reconciliation, even as your past continues to shape the person who you are today. In reality, that’s probably a lot to ask from a single play, although Bradford, an Associate Professor of Dramatic Arts at the University of Connecticut, has managed to exercise some logic and control over his sprawling epic, creating a story of compelling historical interest, especially for Hartford locals.

The plot revolves around the efforts of illegal immigrant Amalia who in 2007 has journeyed to Parkville from her home in Portugal to find information about her Cuban father, Argulio.  He returned to his homeland before she was born and, criticizing the government, landed in prison. Years later he makes his way to Parkville, mirroring a similar journey taken by his father Eduardo in the late 1930’s.  Argulio yearns to be a writer–that’s how he ended up in Portugal from Cuba to begin with–always accompanied by the sacred typewriter handed down to him by his father who discovered it while working on a cane field in Cuba.  As the story spins back and forth through various time periods and locations, it is relatively easy to keep track of how the different generations are related, although key revelations that would shed more light on the actual chronology are sometimes withheld until later in the play.  It makes for a somewhat distracting and annoying scenario as you try to figure out how someone could have ended up in this particular place at that spoecific time rather than concentrating on each character’s story.

But Bradford and his director, Bated Breath’s Artistic Director Helene Kvale, have distilled quite a bit of history from their interviews and that is where the play is most fascinating. We are reminded of Hartford’s industrial heritage and thus its attraction to immigrants, while also being able to follow the decline of its factories and the disappearance of their remnants from the scene.  The day of the big Royal Typewriter fire is portrayed, as flames spewed hundreds of feet into the air and could be seen from throughout the capital region.  Also depicted are the ICE (Immigration Customs Enforcement) raids of 2007, which not only resulted in significant arrests but separated families.  And, too, we see how immigrants’ visions can come true, as a frustrated factory worker quits to start what becomes a successful family-owned bake shop on Park Street.

Other significant historical events are also incorporated into the story, such as immigrants who willingly took up arms on behalf of their adopted country during World War II and the “balseros,” those who perilously fled Cuba via makeshift rafts assembled from tires, palettes and other spare parts.  There are more heartbreaking stories told here rather than uplifting ones, as we see how a family of illegal immigrants must remain poised 24/7 with bags packed to flee in case of a raid, never accumulating more than can be contained in a single suitcase, and how a Hartford police officer, a child of immigration himself, agonizes over what he will be expected to do in an upcoming raid.

Bradford and Kvale also employ the effective and entertaining device of having Amalia, as she journeys through her history, interact in direct conversations with her ancestors, as for example her grandfather tries to explain some of his decisions or her mother shares her experience of meeting her father for the first time. All of the actors, save for Amalia, play multiple characters and serve frequently as a chorus, echoing words and memories from Amalia’s life.  The cast is supported by the clever use of puppets, many created apparently from “found” objects, including most memorably some police canines fashioned from what looks like the hulks of bicycles (ghosts from Columbia Bicycle perhaps?)

Ultimately, the work suffers from an overabundance of historical inclusion, small but potent side stories and some splendid theatrical effects, so much so that emotional connections with even the key characters is hard to develop.  The cast members, however, are energetic and enthusiastic.  Most are current or recent UConn MFA acting students, with extensive acting credits both locally and in New York.  Vanessa Soto is lovely and earnest as the searching Amalia, although her stubbornness just prior to the immigration raid is extremely frustrating.  Her movements are smooth and elegant in a part that requires her to move swiftly between characters and time frames, while remaining on stage virtually throughout the entire production. Phil Korth fits the part of her father, although his exact motivation for never returning to Portugal after his escape from Cuba is left unclear. Nathan Caron is funny and touching as Amalia’s grandfather, while Gretchen Goode is quietly controlled as her mother, Esperanza.  Kate Shine is good in multiple roles as the policeman’s wife, a fleeing mother and Esperanza’s disapproving sister. Ken O’Brien creates two totally different but believable characters as the concerned policeman and the exuberant baker.

Laura Crow has designed and assembled an impressive set of evocative costumes, most serving to immediately identify specific timeframes and locations.  She dresses the chorus, for example, in off-white raincoats to represent the waves of history and immigration impacting Amalia, and her use of hats to establish period is also quite effective.  She also dresses Kevin Coubal, playing a succession of supervisors at the Royal building, in a series of office drag that exemplifies societal change.  Jeanette Drake and Rachel Levy’s set includes a mass of trunks, suitcases, tables, and one enormous, overwhelming doorframe that are used to establish a restaurant in Portugal, the Hartford police station or a raft on a dangerous sea.  Nicole Phaneuf and Greg Webster are responsible for the dance-like maneuvers of the chorus, while Tim Maynard has composed an unobrusive guitar-influenced score that underlies but does not overwhelm the performances.

One could accuse Bradford and Kvale of overdoing the imagery in this production, as highly theatrical as it is.  Before the play even gets to begin, for example, the audience is ushered out of the lobby and onto the plaza in front of the Playhouse where each member is given a passport.  You are then funneled through a long, imposing, cement corridor lined with empty suitcases that requires the audience to pass through the door frame, which at that point resembles an over-large metal detector.  Yes, this effectively hints at the frustrations and anxiety experienced by newcomers to this country, but the effect quickly loses its impact in the lengthy minutes it takes a boisterous audience to get settled.

This is apparently Bated Breath’s second production, the first being a new translation and production of Ibsen’s A Doll’s House in New York City.  Their next production The Cooked and the Raw, billed as an erotic thriller, is being prepared for Real Arts Ways (in Parkville!) in 2011.  This ambitious company certainly deserves watching.

The inspiration, says the play’s director and UConn acting professor Helene Kvale, initially came from bricks and architecture.

A visit to Real Art Ways in the former Underwood building was Kvale’s introduction to Parkville’s industrial past. Then in early 2008, searching for a “local story” to create for the new Bated Breath, Kvale said, she and playwright Michael Bradford began an exploration of the neighborhood.

Kvale, born in Norway, said last week that she interviewed at least several dozen residents and shop owners over a two-year period. She attended Parkville Business Association meetings; she spoke with beat cops. The blonde, with an accent from her years in England, tried to connect with people from countries such as Brazil, El Salvador, Peru, Chile, Portugal and Haiti.

“The more you go into the same bakery — I spent a lot of money on coffee and baked goods,” Kvale said with a small laugh, “the more they’re likely to open up.”

In the end, she and Bradford came away with “impressions” to inform the storyline. They include the 1992 fire that destroyed the long-vacant Royal Typewriter factory; and, in November 2007, after a shooting in which a Brazilian-born man was the suspect, U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement raids that rounded up 21 people suspected of being illegal immigrants from Brazil.

Fear, Kvale said, was still fresh.

The first time she set out to interview people, a video camera was in tow, “and that was a mistake,” Kvale said. A wall of suspicion was up in seconds.

After that experience, “the generosity of people was phenomenal. … I would take notes and I would speak in my broken Spanish, and I don’t speak any Portuguese,” Kvale said. Mentioning that it was a theater piece helped. But Kvale also avoided deeply probing questions, and she did not jot down names.

Sean Harris, an artistic director for Playhouse on Park, said he believed the play had no political agenda. “It has truthful storytelling,” Harris said. “You’re really following the story of it and not the issue” of immigration.

Yet there is certainly sympathy for the lead character. Undocumented worker Amalia Piniero Sedano, played by Vanessa Soto of New Haven, descends from a line of dreamers.

Her grandfather, Eduardo Sedano, was a Cuban sugar cane worker who caught one of the nearly 200 Royal typewriters from Hartford that were parachuted onto a Havana field in the real 1927 drop. Amalia’s father is Argulio, a journalist who is imprisoned for 12 years after writing articles on his Royal Quiet DeLuxe that are critical of the Cuban regime.

They both, in their own time, ended up in Parkville. So did Amalia, a 26-year-old from Portugal who comes to Hartford to find the father she has never met, but has known through the Royal-typed letters, which suddenly stopped arriving.

Amalia works the night shift as a cleaner in the Underwood building. Not for long, though: Hartford police, cooperating with ICE agents after a neighborhood shooting, arrest her during a raid.

At one point, Amalia laments that the police might not capture the shooter, yet they will haul in people like her. “I’m easy to arrest with my broom and my duster. I’m ready to overthrow the world with these,” she says, sarcastically.

Kvale characterizes the play as “a human story” grounded in themes of migration, mobility and communication, and what “people will do to improve the lives of their family and be together as much as possible.”

It’s a story told with the backing of the Marks Family Endowment in Fine Arts at UConn, which offered a $12,500 grant; the United Arts Campaign through the Greater Hartford Arts Council; and seed money from various UConn departments.

For Bated Breath, producing a professional show on a tight budget also required some of the play’s creative minds to pocket little to nothing for their services.

“Everyone who’s an artist wants to be involved in something like this,” explained movement director Nicole Phaneuf of East Haddam. “It’s new, and it tells a great story. And for me, it’s close to my heart.”

In 2007, her sister-in-law was detained for five days in an immigration detention center in Texas after a border patrol stop. Although the woman was married to Phaneuf’s brother, an American, she had not yet received her green card.

The play, a nonlinear collage of scenes, has a few interactive elements intended to feel abrupt in the spare, 163-seat theater. By the time the show begins, Phaneuf said, “you might not be sitting next to the people you came with.”