The Light In The Piazza
Lincoln Center’s oddly dark musical on the subject of love and joy, THE LIGHT IN THE PIAZZA blends the romanticism of Italian opera and American musical theatre, let’s say it’s La Traviata meets The Sound of Music. And in its’ bursts of color from Adam Guettel’s sonorous at times dissonant score to Catherine Zuber’s pastel 50's fashions, it is supple, radiant and ingratiating.
A fable about love, Fabrizio emerges, like the naked Italian sculptures, Clara gazes at and touches in the Ufizzi Gallery on this trip to Florence with her mother. But these opening scenes are layered with artificiality, a sense that something is not being said in spite of the copious lyrics Margaret sings, excerpts from her tour book.
As adapted for the stage by Craig Lucas, the story develops through obvious contrasts, the depth of Italian history versus the flash of American mores and the stability of Florentine society versus the turmoil that underlies the life of this staid American lady and her emotional young daughter.
As lyricist, Guettel is remarkably literary, with songs sung in Italian like PASSAEGIATA, in which Fabrizio and Carla stroll in the PIAZZA to the final, FABLE in which Margaret describes looking in a wishing well for an apple, a cherry, a tear." that finally eclipses in her mind "you’re a well wisher, you’re a fallen apple". So, her daughter realizes her fairy tale.
Victoria Clark delivers a flawless performance expressing the angst and optimism of this complicated, watchful mother while delivering every song with the hemmed in perfection and unceasing attentiveness that are true to character. Also lustrous in song, Kelli O’Hara portrays Clara with unabashed vulnerability while Matthew Morrison as Fabrizio transforms seamlessly into a mature, real personality.
The Florentine settings by Michael Yeargen are, of course, a pleasure, but what is most remarkable is the sensitive and subtle direction Bartlett Sher brings to this production in which the drama of Italian gesture and the rigidity of American behaviors create a dance that is full of soul and song.
That’s This Week on Broadway. I’m Isa Goldberg.
