Family History Proves Fertile Artistic Ground

Warm and wet, it waits underground. Doesn’t matter how deep it’s buried, how far down it’s hidden in the dark crannies of the earth. Rot becomes verdant. Moss and mushrooms, lichen leeches toward the sun. 

The growth manifests. 

But what’s growing? Literal fungi, like the kind ingested at the beginning of Glass Half Full’s Frutos de la Muerte? The dank ramifications of deep family trauma, like those besetting Guatemalan immigrant Ixq’anil and her refugee family? Or a healing cover over scorched earth and wounded hearts, the type of healing Ixq’anil seeks throughout this short but powerful production at Ground Floor Theatre?

In Frutos, Ixq’anil’s own growth is stunted, so she decides to uproot generational trauma and unearth the gaps in her memory and her past. Yes, her journey’s facilitated by hallucinogenics administered by her Aunt Adela, trained through a mix of college and indigenous education. Under Adela’s guidance the trip lives in layers of meaning. The mushrooms grew from pieces of clothing Ixq’anil’s ancestors touched – fungus feeding on her past, information gained through literal connection to her roots. 

Frutos thrives on a rooted system twining diverse backgrounds and methods together, notably through a bilingual script. It doesn’t just repeat statements in two languages. Dialogue slips between English and Spanish. It’s understandable if you’re monolingual, but definitely richer for those who speak both languages. Performances are also intricately interconnected. While some roles are primarily filled by certain actors, almost nothing is solely owned. Parts morph and change hands between performers Gricelda Silva, Isis Jasen Silva, Antonio Medrano, Caroline Reck, and Diana Guizado. Characters are played at different times by humans, impeccably detailed puppets (designed by Reck, GHF’s co-producing artistic director), or most impressively, artfully folded fabric. Isis Jasen Silva does the lion’s share of Ixq’anil onstage, but also serves as a puppeteer and, in one memorable sequence, a scenic backdrop for puppet action. Gricelda Silva presents a gorgeously defiant young Aunt Adela and operates a near life-size puppet of modern-day Adela with such sensitivity and care that you want to give that frail woman a hug.

That’s just how GHF’s inspiring collectivism works. Reck is credited as story runner, but the script was developed by the company, with special guidance from local mycologist/fungal dramaturg Jesus Garcia. They crafted the story together. They crafted performances together. And this collaborative vision springs to life with a talented crew that elevates an interesting idea into an emotional epic.

Their design elements create total sensory immersion. This production engages every synapse, every cell, every musculature or nerve ending. It specializes in the physical motions and sensations of the tale being presented. Exquisite sound design (K. Eliot Haynes), cavernous echoing sounds or crystalline tones, fills the space. Lighting (Gavin Kenter) adds subtle shifts and shadows to establish time and place, war and peace, acting as an emotional anchor. These all bounce around a set that wouldn’t be out of place in a fine art museum. Designers Delena Bradley and Joshua W. Martin, assisted by CB Feller and Mia Ramirez, carefully place boxes and plant incubators, pieces easily manipulated to fit whatever the story needs. 

Costume design (Kade Conklin, with assistance from Bradley and Reck) complements this heady space. The puppeteers themselves wear brown bodysuits adorned with fungal frills and trailing tendrils of fabric, accentuated by curving bodies and sinewy motions. The movements speak to precise instruction from director and second co-producing artistic director Khristián Méndez Aguirre, with assistant director Ariane Stier. Puppeteers shiver and quake, an impression of spontaneous life. Cocoons and silken fabrics show threads of connection that cannot be broken. 

This organic nature makes Frutos incredibly tangible. Its world of mysticism and magical healing seems possible. So what has grown in the audience’s hearts? Deeper appreciation for environmental systems, for confronting truth, and for offering grace to desperate situations. What grows? The fruit of human love.

This article appears in June 12 • 2026.