Fri 4/29-Sun 5/1
Imagine lining up sixteen college students and listening as they lyrically describe life (so far), discover connections with others and learn “what goes around comes around.” That’s a too-facile (but the best I can manage) summary of the delicately beautiful The Theory of Relativity that played one brief weekend in the Helen Theatre at Playhouse Square. This regional premiere of the 2014 Neil Bartram (music and lyrics) and Brian Hill (book) musical featured an engaging and talented cast of students from the Baldwin Wallace University Conservatory of Music.
Director Victoria Bussert, along with music director David Pepin and choreographer Gregory Daniels, crafted a beautiful show without relying on props beyond sixteen incredibly durable chairs that served as stands, platforms and percussion instruments as well as just places to sit. A small band, conducted by Peter van Reesema, provided well-coordinated accompaniment that didn’t overwhelm the vocals, not always easy to do in such a small space.
Sung before a backdrop of stars and lights, the musical numbers and monologues shifted from one character to another in a manner that ultimately became logical. This structure reinforced the idea that humans have traditionally selected certain patterns of stars, named them constellations and created a bit of order out of the seeming chaos in the night sky above us.
Like a book of good poetry or short stories, The Theory of Relativity offers surprising shifts of perception. In “Apples and Oranges,” for example, Oliver (the winsome Jason Goldston, looking a bit like the young Matthew Broderick in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off) explains about growing up in Seattle where everyone loves apples. Oliver hates apples, loves oranges. Imagine his delight when he moves to NYC (of course) and meets Mike (the stalwart, friendly John Loya) who also prefers oranges. That it’s a metaphor about sex is obvious, but it’s neither a lecture nor a nagging — it just states the way life happens if you prefer oranges to apples.
Another story? Ryan (the sincere, initially naive young man persuasively characterized by Colton Ryan) describes coming home during college breaks. He finds that once he leaves the “home” he recalls when a bit homesick in college, “home” has changed. It’s not a bitter “you can’t go home again” cliche, but rather a pretty universal truth about growing up.
And who knew polished fingernails could be a key to the theory of relativity? In an extended monologue while getting a manicure, the indecisive and slightly air-headed Amy (the deft and charmingly articulate Olivia Kaufmann) manages to tie up the narrative’s loose threads, leading to the heart-warming ensemble song “Nothing without You.”
Bottom Line: The Theory of Relativity is one of the most charming new musicals I’ve seen. Yes, there was angst, there was depression, but the takeaway was hope and joy. Catharsis can get a bit wearying at times; this show and its amazing cast left everyone smiling — some of us in a fog of memory (“Oh yes, at that age, I felt that, learned that, etc.”) — and perhaps realizing, as the show argues, “We are all on this marble that hurls through space …we are energy, we are mass, we are light.” It feels good to celebrate that.
Side note: If you missed it or just want to relive it, an album of this show will be released on disc June 3, 2016. Among other young performers, it features BWU graduates Caitlin Houlahan, Kyra Kennedy, and Mack Shirilla. Here’s more information.
[Written by Laura Kennelly]Cleveland, OH 44115