REVIEW: Ragtime at Cain Park

Through Sun 6/30

Photo by Steve Wagner

The swiftly-moving Ragtime: The Musical, now at Cain Park’s Alma Theater, gives a musical snapshot of early 1900s in New York City. Based on E. L. Doctorow’s fine and dramatic novel with the same name, it features book by Terrence McNally, music by Stephen Flaherty and lyrics by Lynn Ahrens. The Cain Park production,  directed by Joanna May Cullinan, pays appropriate homage to the classic America-as-melting-pot narrative (at least to the New York City, East Coast  version).

Three families, one white and wealthy, one immigrant and poor, and one black and on the rise, represent turn-of-the last century dynamics. Instrumental and vocal music — not just ragtime, but klezmer, waltzes and more — expresses their emotions, hopes, and dreams.

The story follows what happens when (among other things) Mother (Bridie Carroll) finds an infant in the garden of her comfortable suburban estate. She takes in (and loves) the baby who, as it turns out, is the child of the black servant Sarah (Mariah Burks) and her lover, the soon-to-be-famous ragtime musician Coalhouse Walker, Jr. (Eugene Sumlin). At the same time, penniless Jewish immigrants Tateh (Scott Esposito) and his young daughter (Elise Pakiela) have just arrived in the United States. Ragtime tells what happens as their lives intertwine over the years.

There’s heartbreak, violence, injustice (no one is an angel here, except the little children), and new-found happiness and reconciliation. Something for everyone.

Overall, it’s a delightful summer show with several outstanding performances. As a peacekeeper, Bridie Carroll’s “Mother” handles her pivotal role with elan and grace. Burks’ Sarah shows passion in her despair and pride. While Sumlin’s smooth Coalhouse Walker adds panache to the portrayal of his proud, self-respecting character, at times he seems a little too gentle in his anger.

Displaying great fire, Nyla Watson as “Sarah’s Friend” rocks the first-act ending with a moving, full-voiced “Till We Reach That Day.” In the final scenes, Isaiah Jackson, as Coalhouse’s and Sarah’s little son, is so darn cute it’s just as well he doesn’t appear earlier in the show — he’d have stolen every scene. (As an infant, he’s represented by several alarmingly small bundles carried around by Mother. Real mothers in the audience exchanged wry smiles about baby’s unbelievable size and silence.)

Esposito’s Tateh illustrates beautifully (both literally and figuratively) how creativity can bring wealth without sacrificing compassion. Esposito and Carroll (Mother) persuade us that love prevails in the affirming “Our Children.”

Beauty Anna Barrett, playing celebrity tramp Evelyn Nesbit (and singing “The Crime of the Century”), brings a wicked sense of humor to the role.

The newly configured in-the-round Alma Theater stage should also get special mention. Ragtime can be a big production for large spaces (as it was in Toronto in 1996 when I first saw it). The new oval space at Cain Park meant that the cast (over two dozen) could be seen and heard by people on all four sides at once, thanks to choreographer Imani Jackson and the director. Big kudos to artists  Brittany Ganser and Justine Schneider for handcrafting the cleverly imagined setting that brought us closer to the story.

Credit for “making it real” should also go to set and lighting co-designers Trad A Burns and  Ben Gantose who found a new use for pianos and also created an amazing staircase. Costume designer Tesia Dugan Benson and wig designer Janel Moore brought the era alive. Sound designer Carlton Guc handled the tricky acoustics so that even when characters were not facing us, we could still understand them. Jordan Cooper directed the small above-stage orchestra that ably handled the show’s various styles.

BOTTOM LINE: Filled with tunes great and small, Ragtime mixes history with music. If visual art also intrigues you, then visit the Cain Park’s Feinberg Gallery (next to the Alma) while you are there. Running through July 21, the current exhibition The Ends of the Earth … Lead You Home features photography by Will Slabaugh and Catherine McManus. Slabaugh’s intriguing photographs taken in Japan (and printed on handmade paper) show in subject and creation how old and new can blend. McManus’s varied photographs document her visit to the United Kingdom.

[Written by Laura Kennelly]

Review: Dear Evan Hansen, Playhouse Square June 12, 2019

Dear Evan Hansen @ Playhouse Square, June 11--June 30, 2019

Review by Laura Kennelly

    Overheard on the way out of the Connor Palace Theatre: “This show would be great for psychologists.” The show? The long-awaited, Dear Evan Hansen. multiple award winner, including a 2017 Tony for “Best Musical.”
     Directed by Michael Greif, with book by Steven Levenson, a score by Benj Pasek and Justin Paul, the musical explores alienation, family dynamics, and chance. Greif, surely a master of unhappiness, offers a sad and serious look at life for several teens and two sets of parents. It should come as no surprise to learn that he also directed Rent and Next to Normal. The characters, the sub-text (modern life can be pretty awful, but there’s hope for us all), echoes a similar perspective.
     The first and most important teen is, of course, Evan Hansen (Ben Levi Ross), a lonely kid with good intentions. Ross projects, with cringe-inducing accuracy, the painful shyness and insecurity his character suffers. It’s easy to identify. It’s also easy to identify with his mother Heidi Hansen (Jessica Phillips). Phillips subtily shows Heidi’s unintentional contributions to Evan’s problems by exhibiting mannerisms similar to her son’s. (Maybe it’s just me, but what teen has ever, ever in the history of teendom, ever answered truthfully the first time a parent asks “What’s bothering you?” Maybe some do.)
     The Murphy family (as opposed to Evan’s single mom family) seems to have it all, but as nuanced performances by Larry Murphy (Aaron Lazar), Cynthia Murphy (Christiane Noll), and their children Zoe Murphy (played by understudy Ciara Alyse Harris), and Connor Murphy (Marrick Smith) reveal, that’s not true.That tragedy ultimately brings them together reflects the play’s ironic core.
     Jared Goldsmith plays Evan’s kinda friend (Jared Kleinman) with delightfully creepy intensity. Phoebe Koyare, as the bossy Alana Beck, evokes memories of certain high school friends--the ones who always “had a great plan” and could tell you exactly what to do.
     Technically, it’s a musical, but the music seems incidental; it’s mostly anthems of one sort of another that support the plot line. The most hummable include “Waving Through a Window” and “You Will Be Found,”
     The scenic design by David Korins, with projection design by Peter Nigrini, brilliantly reflects our internet age. The stage, filled with flashing displays on vertical columns recreates life on Facebook or Twitter or on email. As the story progresses it echoes what’s happening on stage as digital life reflects “real” life. (I’ve got to add that the usual before-show warning to “Turn off your phones” was the most effective I’ve ever seen.) A usually invisible small orchestra, seated on a platform above the stage, was directed by Austin Cook.

Bottom Line: Dear Evan Hansen is well-produced technically and well-worth seeing. But for a story about redemption, it’s less persuasive than I’d hoped. More a play with incidental music than a “musical,” it lacks the tunes and self-awareness that, for example, a production dwelling on similar teen problems, Be More Chill, delights in.





Side Note: Playhouse Square offers a digital lottery for the few remaining tickets to Dear Evan Hansen at http://www.playhousesquare.org/news/detail/dear-evan-hansen-2019 [http://www.playhousesquare.org/news/detail/dear-evan -hansen-2019].

King Lear at the Beck Center

Shakespeare’s King Lear shines with fresh light in this subtle and brilliant Beck Center production. Director  Eric Schmiedl has created a new view of this familiar classic by ditching frills, fancy  costumes and elaborate sets. It’s nothing like the King Lear you might have been forced to read in school (of course, if you liked it then, never mind this sentence.)

The Studio Theatre set designed by Walter Boswell consists of a series of blocks and planks — all painted black. This stark setting does nothing to distract from the human tragedy we see developing before our eyes when King Lear in his pride and folly divides his kingdom among his daughters and demands verbal assurance that they love him most of all.

Simple costumes created by Kerry McCarthy seem fitting for any period (gowns, generic military uniforms). In an effective touch, decorative trappings of rank (crowns, jewels, scarves) are distributed before a word is spoken (and collected in the same manner at play’s end). The point is made: glory and rank are transient. (And that Nick Sobotka’s Duke of Burgundy wore a burgundy suit added a clever touch.)

Benefitting from their own considerable skills (plus the tight confines of the Studio Theatre), the fine cast made us hear Shakespeare’s words clearly as we watched the interplay of  jealousy, fear, love and ambition that this story lays before us.

Robert Hawkes’ persuasive King Lear seemed every bit the “retired” CEO who really couldn’t retire — until the last scene when he realized that he had wronged the one he loved most (Danyel Rennee Geddie’s Cordelia). As the play underscored, both Lear and Cordelia shared a stubborn and ironic loyalty to the importance of words.

Not so with Lear’s two other daughters: Julia Kolibab as Goneril and Lisa Louise Langford as Regan. Words were nothing more than sound for them. Both Kolibab and Langford played “mean girls” with spirit and verve, especially when they were romancing Edmund (Daniel Telford).

I’m an Anne McEvoy fan, so casting a woman as the Earl of Gloucester worked well most of the time. At play’s end, the blinded McEvoy elicited pity and her resolution to carry on after her “fall” brought admiration. Gloucester and her son Edgar (James Rankin), who accompanied the banished earl, created a tender portrayal of filial and maternal love. Rankin was convincingly crazy in his disguise as an “insane” (and super athletic) beggar.

However, Gloucester is supposed to have two sons, the legitimate son Edgar (James Rankin), and the bastard son Edmund (Daniel Telford). It’s a stretch to think a female (and McEvoy wore women’s clothes)  could get away with that — even if she were an earl. And even if she did, wouldn’t both sons legally be the product of her marriage? Ho hum: Details details details.

Others in the cast included Brian Pedaci as Albany, Rodney Freeman as Cornwall, Jeffery Allen as Lear’s Fool, Shaun Patrick O’Neill as Oswald, Tyler Collins as the King of France, John Stuehr as the Old Man, and David Hansen as Kent.

BOTTOM LINE: A don’t-miss production that, taken overall, exemplifies what Shakespeare’s King Lear is all about: the power of  human connection (aka true love) and the impermanence of worldly trappings.