Reviews
The American Musical Is Suddenly OK
NEW YORK -- “Show Boat,” the 1927 musical by Jerome Kern and Oscar Hammerstein II, represents a turning point in the history of the American musical. And you’d better remember it; Carnegie Hall certainly did. The gala semi-staged performance it presented for its own benefit on Tuesday night wore its significance like the Pope his heavy golden robes: with a self-consciousness about representing a link to the past and concern about rising appropriately to the occasion. God forbid it should be only perceived as light entertainment.
The American musical has in any case reached a museum-like phase of its history, when it has become appropriate for exploration by the so-called serious classical music organizations. Gone is the sense of tacit disapproval that accompanied New York City Opera’s early forays into musicals in the mid-1980’s under Beverly Sills – the idea that an otherwise highbrow institution was simply going slumming in search of audiences. This spring alone, we’ve had “Camelot” at the New York Philharmonic, now “Show Boat” at Carnegie Hall and a revival of “South Pacific” that is one of the hottest tickets on Broadway. The question is no longer whether the American musical is appropriate fare, but how high we can make the pedestal on which to place it.
The risk, of course – just as it has long been in opera – is that the original dramatic impulse gets lost in all the pomp. Tuesday night, particularly the first half of the evening, showed the spectacle of a number of people going through some pretty grand motions. The stilted gestures of “The Parson’s Bride” – the play-within-a-play that illustrates the charming world of the 1880’s that “Show Boat” seeks to recreate – were hard to separate from the “real” acting, as the players spat out lines with cramped intensity or delivered jokes as if within veritably audible quotation marks. The symbol of this particular evening was less “Ol’ Man River,” sung doughtily by Alvy Powell (who has an earth-shaking bass and very little top) than a cameo walk-on by Marilyn Horne, whose entrance in the last act stopped the show for minutes of applause. She then delivered a couple of throw-away lines and walked off again. History, in short, was represented rather than made anew.
The pedestal involves, as a matter of course, a deluxe frame, here provided by Francesca Zambello, whose semi-staging kept the principals, two choruses (black and white) and four pairs of show dancers from appearing too static on the crowded stage; though even dance numbers, or gaudy black-and-white patterned costumes, were unable to break through the general sobriety of the proceedings. Another component was the Orchestra of St. Luke’s, which, under Paul Gemignani (now elevated to patron-saint status) sounded like it was attempting to play “Tosca”: the result was not at all idiomatic, but very pretty and very earnest.
A requisite ingredient in the mix are stars of opera and Broadway – specifically, this spring, Nathan Gunn, who moved from the Philharmonic’s “Camelot” to inhabit the role of “Show Boat’s” devilishly handsome rake Gaylord Ravenal with an oily aplomb that turned out to be the best thing on stage. Gunn’s voice, firm and full, slid unctuously across the syllables of his first-act songs; this proved to be not carelessness, but characterization, and his character developed more honesty, personally and vocally, in the course of the evening. It would be wonderful to see him in a fully-staged Broadway production.
The flip side of opera-singer crossover was represented by Celena Shafer as the ingénue-turned-star Magnolia Hawks. The bubbly vivaciousness she has showed in past opera productions here became heavy-handed, and even her singing sounded like a lot of work, so that the loveliness of her voice came across as a surprise rather than a delight.
“Show Boat” also proved a happy exception to the general rule that the second act of musicals (or opere buffe) is not as good as the first. True, most of the score’s best-known songs come in Act 1 and are reprised within an inch of their lives (“Can’t Help Lovin’ Dat Man of Mine,” “Only Make Believe I Love You,” and of course “Ol’ Man River”). But in this show, the first act is the setup and the second is when the plot actually is realized. The exposition is less stilted, and the characters generally become more tolerable when they lose some of their not-quite-credible innocence and have been knocked around enough to blunt the edges of their stereotypes.
The pivotal character of Julie turns from virtuous heart-of-gold actress in Act 1 to down-and-out bottle-hitting showgirl in Act 2 (her life has been ruined by the revelation that she has African-American blood). Carolee Carmello (currently in “Mamma Mia”) made her Act 2 showpiece, “Bill,” a real show-stopper; if the singing was hard-edged, it was also deeply felt. And if the comic second couple, played by Megan Sikora (“Curtains”) and Gavin Lee (“Mary Poppins”), didn’t quite have enough to do (Ms. Sikora showed a squeaky, Adelaide-type voice in her weary paean to the perils of show biz), they at least acquired a dramatic function in Act 2 by getting Magnolia work. One reprise of “Only Make Believe” was quite enchanting out of the mouth of nine-year-old Carly Rose Sonenclar, playing one incarnation of Magnolia and Gay’s daughter, Kim; an older Kim was played by Gunn’s oldest daughter, Madelyn (which added an extra touch of poignancy to the father’s embrace of his long-lost child that forms the show’s final tableau).
“Advanced for its time” is the kind of faint-praise epithet “Show Boat” tends to garner: a nod to its awkward if well-meaning treatment of race relations (it was the first Broadway show in which black and white actors performed together on stage), as well as to its generally seamy story (Gay is, after all, a no-count gambler who ruins his family, rather than a conventional romantic hero). So it was striking that on Tuesday, though as creaky as an old riverboat, it did hold up on contemporary waters, and did make a case for itself, both as a show (it is fundamentally better than, for instance, “Camelot”) and as a piece of history -- something strong enough to survive being swaddled in the trappings of a Classic, and still demonstrate that it has a reason for being there.
As for history and its injustices: the role of Joe was, of course, written for Paul Robeson, who played it in the 1936 film. To learn that this film has never been released as a commercial DVD raises the question of just how advanced our time actually is.
The American musical has in any case reached a museum-like phase of its history, when it has become appropriate for exploration by the so-called serious classical music organizations. Gone is the sense of tacit disapproval that accompanied New York City Opera’s early forays into musicals in the mid-1980’s under Beverly Sills – the idea that an otherwise highbrow institution was simply going slumming in search of audiences. This spring alone, we’ve had “Camelot” at the New York Philharmonic, now “Show Boat” at Carnegie Hall and a revival of “South Pacific” that is one of the hottest tickets on Broadway. The question is no longer whether the American musical is appropriate fare, but how high we can make the pedestal on which to place it.
The risk, of course – just as it has long been in opera – is that the original dramatic impulse gets lost in all the pomp. Tuesday night, particularly the first half of the evening, showed the spectacle of a number of people going through some pretty grand motions. The stilted gestures of “The Parson’s Bride” – the play-within-a-play that illustrates the charming world of the 1880’s that “Show Boat” seeks to recreate – were hard to separate from the “real” acting, as the players spat out lines with cramped intensity or delivered jokes as if within veritably audible quotation marks. The symbol of this particular evening was less “Ol’ Man River,” sung doughtily by Alvy Powell (who has an earth-shaking bass and very little top) than a cameo walk-on by Marilyn Horne, whose entrance in the last act stopped the show for minutes of applause. She then delivered a couple of throw-away lines and walked off again. History, in short, was represented rather than made anew.
The pedestal involves, as a matter of course, a deluxe frame, here provided by Francesca Zambello, whose semi-staging kept the principals, two choruses (black and white) and four pairs of show dancers from appearing too static on the crowded stage; though even dance numbers, or gaudy black-and-white patterned costumes, were unable to break through the general sobriety of the proceedings. Another component was the Orchestra of St. Luke’s, which, under Paul Gemignani (now elevated to patron-saint status) sounded like it was attempting to play “Tosca”: the result was not at all idiomatic, but very pretty and very earnest.
A requisite ingredient in the mix are stars of opera and Broadway – specifically, this spring, Nathan Gunn, who moved from the Philharmonic’s “Camelot” to inhabit the role of “Show Boat’s” devilishly handsome rake Gaylord Ravenal with an oily aplomb that turned out to be the best thing on stage. Gunn’s voice, firm and full, slid unctuously across the syllables of his first-act songs; this proved to be not carelessness, but characterization, and his character developed more honesty, personally and vocally, in the course of the evening. It would be wonderful to see him in a fully-staged Broadway production.
The flip side of opera-singer crossover was represented by Celena Shafer as the ingénue-turned-star Magnolia Hawks. The bubbly vivaciousness she has showed in past opera productions here became heavy-handed, and even her singing sounded like a lot of work, so that the loveliness of her voice came across as a surprise rather than a delight.
“Show Boat” also proved a happy exception to the general rule that the second act of musicals (or opere buffe) is not as good as the first. True, most of the score’s best-known songs come in Act 1 and are reprised within an inch of their lives (“Can’t Help Lovin’ Dat Man of Mine,” “Only Make Believe I Love You,” and of course “Ol’ Man River”). But in this show, the first act is the setup and the second is when the plot actually is realized. The exposition is less stilted, and the characters generally become more tolerable when they lose some of their not-quite-credible innocence and have been knocked around enough to blunt the edges of their stereotypes.
The pivotal character of Julie turns from virtuous heart-of-gold actress in Act 1 to down-and-out bottle-hitting showgirl in Act 2 (her life has been ruined by the revelation that she has African-American blood). Carolee Carmello (currently in “Mamma Mia”) made her Act 2 showpiece, “Bill,” a real show-stopper; if the singing was hard-edged, it was also deeply felt. And if the comic second couple, played by Megan Sikora (“Curtains”) and Gavin Lee (“Mary Poppins”), didn’t quite have enough to do (Ms. Sikora showed a squeaky, Adelaide-type voice in her weary paean to the perils of show biz), they at least acquired a dramatic function in Act 2 by getting Magnolia work. One reprise of “Only Make Believe” was quite enchanting out of the mouth of nine-year-old Carly Rose Sonenclar, playing one incarnation of Magnolia and Gay’s daughter, Kim; an older Kim was played by Gunn’s oldest daughter, Madelyn (which added an extra touch of poignancy to the father’s embrace of his long-lost child that forms the show’s final tableau).
“Advanced for its time” is the kind of faint-praise epithet “Show Boat” tends to garner: a nod to its awkward if well-meaning treatment of race relations (it was the first Broadway show in which black and white actors performed together on stage), as well as to its generally seamy story (Gay is, after all, a no-count gambler who ruins his family, rather than a conventional romantic hero). So it was striking that on Tuesday, though as creaky as an old riverboat, it did hold up on contemporary waters, and did make a case for itself, both as a show (it is fundamentally better than, for instance, “Camelot”) and as a piece of history -- something strong enough to survive being swaddled in the trappings of a Classic, and still demonstrate that it has a reason for being there.
As for history and its injustices: the role of Joe was, of course, written for Paul Robeson, who played it in the 1936 film. To learn that this film has never been released as a commercial DVD raises the question of just how advanced our time actually is.
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