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“And Jen Rowe goes so deeply to the heart of a neglected, depressed neighbor girl who cuts herself, she leaves you wanting the play to follow her...What art can--and should do--is what Rowe does with her role: show us the humanness beneath it.”
-The Oregonian

“She wanders through the play with big-eyed wonder at the new girl...her quirks, which you will believe every moment of... Rowe’s downward spiral from SlimFast advocate to self-flagellating sneak-eater to full-on binger is fascinating and completely entertaining to watch...and Rowe, whose long-time-coming primal scream is a definite highlight” - Oregon Arts Watch

“The show is studded with hilarious performances, especially from Jen Rowe, channeling an infamously empty-headed beauty-pageant speech (“like, such as...”) as an announcer delivering election updates.” - The Oregonian

“Molly, the ambitious apprentice starcatcher, is a stronger female protagonist than Wendy by a factor of 1,000, like UFC Champ Ronda Rousey to Tina Fey, and Jen Rowe gives the teen heroine lots of fire. You constantly root for her, whether she's saving the world or struggling to fix a strap on her training bra.” -The Oregonian

"Laura Faye Smith, writer DeLanna Studi, and director Jen Rowe don’t explicitly address the fact that there’s no male equivalent of a Karen, but they don’t deny the complexity and humanity of their protagonist...Like most great works of art, it will make you uncomfortable in the best sense of the word." - Willamette Week

"That's not to say this charming and poignant production is aimed at adolescents. "How We Got On" is that rare kind of play that satisfies the soul of the young and old, and, under the direction of Jen Rowe with music from Mic Crenshaw, Goodwin's work toasts, rhymes, raps its way into your heart. And feet. Opening night ended with an impromptu dance party, and I would be surprised if that doesn't happen after every performance. The joy on stage is infectious." - The Oregonian

"It’s disturbing stuff, but Jen Rowe’s hyper-intimate and spare staging makes us feel like we’re trapped on the psychic desert island these two lovers share, where aching need and seething resentment sit cheek-to-jowl." - Chicago Reader

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