Aislinn Frantz, Dowagiac’s 2008 valedictorian, won a major writing award at the University of Michigan for her play, “You Can Spend Your Whole Life Running.”

Aislinn, daughter of Rich and Teri Frantz, was influenced growing up by Beckwith Theatre, Dogwood Fine Arts Festival and Dr. Michael Collins of Southwestern Michigan College.

She gets $4,000 for the Hopwood Drama Award.

Arthur Miller is a previous winner.

The Hopwood Committee will recognize her in Rackham Amphitheater on Wednesday, April 20, at 3:30.

These comments come from two New York judges, both award-winning artists in their own right:

Eisa Davis

The premise of this play — a lonely, needy man befriends a woman with Alzheimer’s he doesn’t know just to have someone to talk to — is beautiful in and of itself.

Wouldn’t it be wonderful if everyone knew strangers this kind?

The portrayal of what this disease does to the human brain, to interaction, to connection itself is spot on, and the absurd humor that can arise, full of misunderstanding and non sequiturs, keeps us engaged whenever the situation may become treacly and maudlin.

When Tom, ancient Rose’s gentleman caller, witnesses her take a fall under his watch, he suddenly feels an even stronger bond to her, and pretends to be her stepson.

Then he tracks down Rose’s blood son and daughter, who live just a few miles away but never visit, to warn them that their mother is dying and that now might be the time to say their hellos and goodbyes.

This confrontation sets off revelations of exactly what domestic terror tore this family apart, and challenges why it is that Tom can only connect to other humans in circumstances without cost.

Ron, Rose’s son, replays the sins of his father, unable to stop the cycle of drink and abuse, and Lily, Rose’s daughter, and Tom tumble into love along the way.

There are skillful dream sequences that play out the characters’ anxieties before they actually confront them in real life, and allow Rose in particular to speak coherently and with pizzazz about her past and present.

We are treated to a wonderful conversation between Rose telling her dead, abusive husband that she is on her way to the afterlife, and it’s brilliantly matter of fact about this complicated yet loving relationship.

And there is gorgeous, hysterical and insightful writing throughout (“when you don’t remember what living was like, it’s not so hard to leave it behind”).

This writer has a future I’m interested in.

Jason Grote

Great work here.

This is an inherently dramatic and funny situation, and the Tom/Rose relationship is unique and memorable.