The Woolly Mammoth Theatre Company’s experimental plays are a nice contrast to the staid and stately museums and monuments of Washington. The paint is still fresh at the new facilities on D Street, and we purchased tickets to the inaugural production of Big Death, Little Death. The split level lobby is cavernous and reminiscent of a warehouse. There’s a balcony lining the main lobby area with pictures of past productions, and on a busy night, I bet it would be interesting to observe the crowd below from on high. The high ceilings of the small theater are a breath of fresh air compared to most small companies’ spaces, and there’s not a bad seat in the house.

I purchased tickets in advance on the Web, but upon arriving at the theatre, I found out about Stampede Seats. If a performance is not sold out (and this one was not even half full), available seats are sold for $10 each 15 minutes prior to show time on a first-come, first-served basis.

According to Woolly Mammoth’s website their mission is: "To ignite an explosive engagement between theatre artists and the community by developing, producing and promoting new plays that explore the edges of theatrical style and human experience, and by implementing new ways to use the artistry of theatre to serve the people of Greater Washington, DC."

I have to admit that the head-scratching production we saw pretty much fulfilled the mission. A couple teenage siblings are confronted with sorting out a wide variety of issues, which include puberty, the death of their mother, their father’s Gulf War Syndrome, a drug-addicted guidance counselor, puppies, a fine appreciation of death metal, and the end of the world. As a frequent consumer of foreign films and independent theater, I can usually find some vague moral or theme in even the most obscure storyline. Big Death, Little Death left me perplexed, and maybe that’s the point.

I would definitely recommend checking out a show at the Woolly Mammoth. There are a couple excellent tapas bars in the vicinity where you can try to make heads or tails of the story over a pitcher of sangria.