The Timely Review - The Two “Gentlemen” of Verona
Well, they did it, folks. APT pulled off a musical.
If I were any closer than the outermost layer of insider, they might get mad at me for saying that. The company line is that The Two “Gentlemen” of Verona is, instead, a play with music. And that is true. It is, in fact, a play - Two Gentlemen of Verona, in full Shakespeare-ese. Thou and thine, quoth they, the actors upon the stage. But there's a band on the stage, too, playing lightly and internally as we find our seats, and bursting into song at roughly a dozen junctures throughout the performance. Sometimes the full ensemble joins in, or a character takes their solo song. So what makes it not a musical? What distinguishes a musical from a play with music?
Several distinctions strike me.
First, the plot of the play is still in the language. The lyrics to the songs, mostly, do not propel things. They serve as accompaniment to the drama, commentary on the plot, demonstration of characterization. Enhancements, rather than the core.
Second, it's acoustic, and real, not a showy, overwhelming spectacular. It's as it was in all days up till just recently, when as loud as music could be was as loud as instruments could be played, or voices sung - which can be rather loud indeed in a small and enclosed space, but in the wide and open air, from 100 feet or more, sound dissipates quickly. Had Shakespeare staged a musical, it might well have been as loud as an acoustic guitar and a sung voice.
We are reminded of this most strongly and immediately in the opening number, as the whole ensemble joins to musically welcome us and alert us to the fact that this is a play with music. It's as loud as it can humanly be, yet is judged against our expectation of the inhumanly loud, which we now know to be possible, and which we mostly expect.
It made me think of recent centuries past, when the loudest sound that had ever been experienced could be found in some symphony hall in Europe, with 100 instruments assembled in an enclosed and reverberant space, making a great big ruckus. By contrast, 20 people out of doors, up the hill, is nothing. And so we must lean in to hear the music. As the play goes on, our ears become accustomed to the volume, and we can appreciate one character singing, accompanied by a trio of guitar, bass, and percussion.
Third is the relationship between the play and the musicians, who, again, are on the stage, not piped in from the past, or played live in the pit off stage, but right up there in the back of the stage, a band on a porch. They're not in the play, per se. They function almost as a Greek chorus, as gods or fates. Perhaps they are like Cupid, ready to give a gentle push in the back when a character's speech brings them to the precipice of some note of passionate humanity that could best be expressed through song.
A character may be working themselves up in dialogue. The band notices, leaps quickly into action, snatching out of the air a groove to match the emotion. “Nuh-uh-uh”, says another character, with wagged finger, to the band, who disappointedly stop. Moments like this abound, to great humor. These muses can be shut down. The music cannot compel the play. That is not to say that the play fears the music, it welcomes it often, and gladly.
Fourth, there is a difference in the actors. I gather that there is a distinction in the theater community, between musical theater people and … regular theater people? What should the adjective be there? Dramatic theater? Spoken theater? Nonmusical theater? Many theater kids catch the bug through one of those two modes. That is, some get really into musicals, and others don't. The actors differ. A successful actor in a musical can, first and foremost, sing, beautifully or distinctively. They can sing, and act, larger than life. In contrast, here at APT, these are actors, great actors, who can also sing. The difference is subtle, but pervasive.
You know, I see where they're coming from - The Two “Gentlemen” of Verona really is a play with music, with Music as the Muse, one of the characters, with which the play and the characters interact. Not a musical, where the play sits inside a pervasive field of musicality, where the play happens through, and by, and because of music.
My apologies, APT. I won't call it a musical anymore (except in jest).
So back to the musical. First, a shoutout to the band.
On vocals and guitar, we have Nate Burger. He's great - the perfect person to play this role, as voice of the band, voice of the muse. One of my first musical experiences in Spring Green was a dozen winters ago, playing as the house drummer for live band karaoke at the Shed. I’d heard the name Nate Burger, apparently a locally famous guy, walking around with a full first and last name and all, and I backed him up on a couple songs that night. It might have been Sturgill Simpson, or perhaps Father John Misty. Anyway, Nate is a great singer and great guitar player, and plays this role with bravado and glee.
On bass, we have Tim Giddings, year round resident and community member. It’s an acoustic bass, remember - standing up, walking. Tim is an accomplished bass player in “real life”, who plays in the local band, The Violet Palms. I hear they have a new album coming out soon.
Polyinstrumentalist Elleon Dobias leads us with the fiddle, or holds it down on percussion. She can really do it all, folks. Her fiddle grins along with her, her timing on the drums, and on the post-joke rim shots, is excellent.
We are occasionally joined by Brian Mani, playing the cajon. I ran into him at Reunion earlier in the year, when he had just been given his assignment, and he told me that he barely knew what a cajon was. I have several of these instruments - people just keep giving them to me - and I lent him one to practice with in his home. You did great, Brian. I hope the practice came in handy. Come to the barn, next.
The music is upbeat and fun, Americana, bluegrass, and folk-adjacent for the most part. The best groove, though, is a slower, somewhat enticing, perhaps menacing beat - dundun . . ch . . . . dundun . . ch . . . . You'll know it when you hear it. Of all the things played on stage that night, it reminded me most of music in the barn, simple things played with touch and feel, repetitious and insistent. I've played a rhythm like that before. There are one thousand possibilities for what may be laid on top of such a groove - nay, one million - and they are all held in platonic existence at once. Even I, however, had not considered the possibility of overlaying such a groove with Shakespeare. Perhaps a new frontier of collaboration has opened up.
Special shoutout to Camela Widad, local singer-songwriter, vocal coach, barn regular, and now, Musical Director at American Players Theatre. It’s a tight band you’ve put together! Hopefully now that this show is open, we can have you back in the barn with some more regularity.
The play itself is fast paced and hilarious. Importantly, it was very understandable - more than one person excitedly told me after the play that they were surprised and delighted by how well they could understand the plot. It honestly helped that the “Two ‘Gentlemen’ of Verona” billboard above the stage would change to Two Gentlemen of “Milan”, or Two Gentlemen of “The Woods” when the action took place elsewhere.
I gather that the original text of the Shakespeare play was hacked at substantially, both to make room for nearly an hour of music in the performance, and to remove some unsavory bits that repel our modern sensibilities. It is, apparently, harder for us than it was for them to find sympathy for a character who has just committed a sexual assault. Do not fear - you will love Jonathan Gardner from beginning to end. I wonder, though, about the men and women of the public, in the Globe Theater, 400 years ago, how they would respond to the scenes that were excised from this adaptation, viscerally and emotionally, culturally and morally.
I must confess, I do not understand the use of quotation marks in the title of this play. I half expected that the titular “gentlemen” would, in a further act of modernity, be played by women. Is it somehow addressing the ungentlemanly excised bits? Or perhaps it is an attempt to brand this musical production with enough distinctiveness to allow it to have a life of its own. I gather that some early version of this play was previously produced by the director, Aaron Posner, workshopped with student actors. Perhaps we shall see The Two “Gentlemen” of Verona produced by other Tony-award-winning artists in the years ahead. It sure seems like it's got potential to me - but what do I know, humble berry farmer that I am.
Four performances to note, two by two.
Jonathan Gardner. I heard that Jonathan did not even know that he could sing before this play - and he has quite the voice on him! It's good that his character's unsavory scenes were cut, for Jonathan is just so likable, earnest and beaming. I can't even imagine him turning heel in this role.
Ama Kuwonu. The incisive moral heart of this play. She calls out the bad actions of Jonathan's character with such forceful clarity. It is invigorating and unexpected, inflected with modernity without being overbearing. She is confident and powerful, gleeful in love.
Maggie Cramer. The emotional heart of this play. She goes into disguise and sees her betrayal firsthand, suffers indignities, and loves yet. She’s hilarious in the early scene where she tears up the love letter from Proteus. Great goatee.
Elizabeth Ledo. She plays a dog. The fact that we are in a musical, sorry, a play with music, means that the additional suspension of disbelief required for a dog character comes far more easily. I hear there may even be a number for the dog, in the fuller version of this play, complete with sung woofs.
APT never did a musical in the first forty five years, and apparently they still haven’t, so go see this play, for its like will not be there again.
Singing along,
Twin Crix
