Sunday, October 14, 2007

the Glorious Ones comes to Lincoln Center




"The Glorious Ones" features Paul Schoeffler as Flaminio Scala and Natalie Venetia Belcon as Columbina
By Christopher Rawson
Pittsburgh Post-Gazette

It is indeed glorious to have the world premiere of a new musical comedy lighting up the Cultural District from the stage of the Public Theater -- sort of like fireworks across the river at PNC Park, but more delicious because it is far more rare.

That "The Glorious Ones" is also the creation of a native son (composer Stephen Flaherty, with his lyricist/librettist partner, Lynn Ahrens) adds the sentimental sparkle of homecoming. And as with the fireworks, glory and sparkle are certainly enhanced when the home team wins, as they do at the Public with this sweetly comic parable of the mixed melancholy and joy of creation.

In Pittsburgh, it's Flaherty and Ahrens, premiering their latest.
Graciela Daniele directs, a labor of love.

But it isn't an easy victory, because it gathers steam slowly, starting with the braggadocio of that title, and there are oddities which might be addressed in further development.

We understand the title is a theatrical flourish, the sort of boast that compensates for insecurity, but it also seems to promise slam-bang pizzazz. The opening number functions like that in "A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum." But that tells us it's a comedy and also shows us, by being funny itself. Here, the opening announces a story about 17th- century Italian commedia dell'arte street performers, but without the overt comedy, we still don't know what kind of a story it will be.

The central performer/impresario, Flaminio Scala, is a foundling raised in a monastery. There's a funny bit where he does the voices for the monks discovering the baby, but the musical really begins a couple of numbers later, when he begins to assemble his troupe, starting with the diminutive Armanda Ragusa, funny in a dog routine, and voluptuous Columbina warding off his lascivious advances. Only then do the performers emerge from generic and become the focus of our interest and caring.

Next he finds a tailor who becomes the perfect Pantalone, the comic old man, and Dottore, the comic quack doctor. It is quite wonderful to watch as puppets turn into people. The greatest joys of "Glorious Ones" are these individual personalities, such that the show's brisk 90 minutes don't give some of them as much focal time as we'd like.

Ultimately, the sweet feeling isn't about Flaherty's homecoming at all: it's right there in the music and story, which, while it is about the invention of stage comedy, isn't a comedy so much as a journey in search of artistic identity. The real opening number, "The Comedy of Love," comes several songs in, because it is between the poles of comedy and love that the show moves.

Succesful enough in Italy, Flaminio hopes for the big time, so they head off to France to play the palace. There, they're sneered at as unsophisticates. Historically, it was just such troupes which inspired the great Moliere, who deepened commedia toward comedy of character and reinvented the playwright. . . and the next step is Chekhov. Returned to Italy, the troupe seems to develop in this way themselves. But this story line goes awry in an abrupt climactic turn, which I can't even discuss without giving too much away. (If you've seen the show, stop me on the street and we'll debate.)

The theme of generational rivalry is established early when Francesco sings of the Biblical story of David and Absalom. For most, I expect that's a pretty obscure reference, and I'm not sure how well it fits in detail. But the rivalry does give rise to some of the best material about the adjustments that age must bring.

At the play's end, we return to the comedy of love . . . or is it really the love of comedy? Paul Schoeffler plays Flaminio with plenty of swagger, a well-rounded voice and the passion necessary to fuel his disappointment as his career isn't all he expects. Natalie Venetia Belcon is more than his match as the earthy Columbina with a velvety voice.

The younger couple is Jeremy Webb as Francesco Andreini, who plays the Arlecchino (witty servant) roles, and Jenny Powers as Isabella, the ingenue who becomes his wife and also turns playwright. Both are good looking, capable of supple physical comedy and with lovely voices, especially her clarion tone.

But much of the fun is in the others, Julyana Soelistyo's feisty Armanda, the fool with the heart of gold; John Kassir's pompous, inventive Dottore; and David Patrick Kelly, an elderly comic wizard as Pantalone.

All seven play with stage Italian accents, increasing the comic atmosphere.

Meanwhile they are matched by seven musicians on the balcony, led by Thomas Murray. The score they play is full of rich melody, the kind that steals over you, rather than taking you by storm. The flashier numbers that make an immediate impact include "Aranda's Tarantella," a wonderful comic song which Ahrens has packed with many a discreet double entendre -- blow on a piccolo, ride a pony -- OK, I guess they're not so discreet, especially when staged with comic zest by Graciela Daniele, who has obviously had an important creative role throughout.

"The World She Writes" is a witty song about creation. (Was it about here I began thinking of "The Fantasticks"?) And "The Moon Woman" has a lovely motif reminiscent of Tateh's "Silhouettes" from Ahrens and Flaherty's "Ragtime."

Dan Ostling's set counterpoints rough boards with a lovely sky, and Mara Blumenfeld's costumes and Stephen Strawbridge's lights are as good as it gets. Producer Ted Pappas has taken great care.

I wonder why some characters' names are just those of their commedia roles while others are personal. I'm sure there's a reason: "Glorious Ones" is too in love with the theater not to consider billing and all its implications. Thankfully, that love is not just fulsome, but, in Ahrens' hands, also wry, as when one declares, "I'm an actor," to be met with the dry rejoinder, "Your secret is safe with me."

Actors really are glorious, aren't they?