The Light in the Piazza
The Encore Musical Theatre Company explores a different kind of “classic” musical, transporting the viewer to the Continental classicism of The Light in the Piazza (book by Craig Lucas, music and lyrics by Adam Guettel). The musical’s tale of pure love in the face of distance and disapproval is also an old one, but rich vocal performances of a lyrical score are evocative of newness. Moreover, as directed by Steve DeBruyne, the show complements its storybook tone with indulgent design as well as big comic gestures.
Splendid production values are a highlight of this production, bringing literal and representative details to various locales in 1953 Italy. Rarely are set and lighting design (courtesy of Toni Auletti and Matthew Tomich, respectively) implemented with such exceptional teamwork; a column effect lends a sense of open space befitting an Italian piazza, while at the same time evoking various architectural and cultural landmarks as called for by the script. The mid-twentieth century period comes to life in detailed and impressively accessorized costume design (by Sharon Larkey Urick, with hair and makeup by Cara Manor), and Eileen Obradovich’s properties lend credence to interior scenes in the absence of walls or much furniture. The effect is ancient, artistic, and romantic all at once, entirely befitting the tone of the play. And this is to say nothing of The Encore's new amplification setup, conveying every lyric clear as a bell. (The mikes are almost too good, requiring the viewer to tune out footfalls and rustling costumes; however, the adjustment is minor, and it's a far superior predicament to straining to hear lines of dialogue or song.)
On a Florence afternoon, pretty American tourist Clara Johnson (Stephanie Souza) loses her hat in a breath of wind; it’s retrieved by native Fabrizio Naccarelli (Brian L. Giebler); they fall in love; various obstacles, including intervention by their families, threaten their future together. The leap directly to true love is the stuff of old-school ingénues, giving Souza and Giebler little to do but stare dreamily at each other and pout when their contact is interrupted. Fortunately, most of their actions and protestations are in the form of song, and these performers lend gorgeous vocalizations to their resolute character arcs — music director Brian E. Buckner lingers on the operatic influences of the score with particular skill. And as static as the central relationship is written, what happens around them proves dynamic: there’s something about Clara, and her controlling mother seems ready to go to any length to keep the secret from coming out.
Ever-flowing and revolving staging reminds the viewer to be mindful of what happens around Clara and Fabrizio, and the cast does not disappoint in filling out the curiosities of this world. The story is viewed through the lens of Clara’s mother, and Barbara Scanlon is increasingly relatable in confessional narratives that help the character convey, then reassess, the rationale for her overprotective nature. Fabrizio’s stereotypically Italian family adds comedy and flavor to the proceedings: heavy smoking, effusive, boisterous, passionate flavor. The charm and understated machismo of Scott Crownover as the family patriarch seems to have gone hilariously wrong in the form of his irresistible adulterer son; in a scene-stealing turn, Sebastian Gerstner embraces the penitent smarminess of the role as effortlessly as he executes Manor’s classic movie-musical choreography. The language barrier is acknowledged, but not harped on, although Marlene Inman-Reilly’s no-inglese Signora Naccarelli demands attention by both comic and vocal means in a delicious tangent. As a whole, the company adds needed dimension to this love story, as well as pure surging harmonies in rare group numbers.
The vacation feeling of The Light in the Piazza comes not only from its incomparable setting, but from its paper-tiger story — the seemingly mild obstacles challenging the unassailable love of the central characters are definitely suggestive of a departure from real life. This production indulges accordingly in the fantasy elements of its romantic plot, while simultaneously clowning and honoring the more subtle points of a redemptive character arc. Here, DeBruyne and company plant one foot each in the traditional and the contemporary musical, adding layers to a simple story with harmonious execution.
September 16, 2011