BlueSky post: MN Fringe show #11: Songs Without Words - Holy sh*t, that was amazing! Brilliant script,effortless performance, and music friends said she nailed all those details and it made them want to run home and listen to more music by *both* the Mendelssohns; 5 stars
It’s hard to know where to begin with Songs Without Words (or, The Mendelssohn Play) because the playwright responsible for this great script is also the actress performing the show as both Fanny and Felix Mendelssohn - both Jennifer Vosters’ skill sets are necessary for this show to be as great as it is so to favor one over the other is foolish.
“It started with my hands.”
But one has to start somewhere, so let’s begin with the words on the page (as Fanny and Felix begin with notes in their heads they then commit to paper before turning it over to other musicians to play, or often play the music themselves). Perhaps the highest compliment I can pay to the script is that I am no student of classical music, and not only didn’t I feel lost or out of the loop in this story of two great composers, but I was compelled in the same way I would be if Vosters had completely created these characters herself, as if they were fictional rather than actual persons.
“How do I write a requiem for half my soul?”
Often when telling the story of people who really existed, the details can get in the way. No one lives the same tidy existence as a fictional character, where the author can control everything about the person, because they’ve created the person. A well-rounded, fully fleshed out character in a play is a treat both for the actor who gets to play them, and for the audience that gets to watch them. Sometimes, when writing about real-life figures, a playwright might lean too heavily on an audience already knowing who they are, and just skip character development altogether, replacing it with just a series of facts. No such trouble here.
“There’s room for all of it, Felix. The old and the new.”
Vosters presents, both on the page and in performance, two fully-formed human beings, creating them so vividly in both quarters that they feel like people she dreamed up for us. She brings Fanny and Felix Mendelssohn fully to life, in a way even few good biographies do. A bonus for my musical friends who attended the same performance with me, of course. They were equally captivated, and wanted to rush home and spend time listening to the music of both Mendelssohns, having a new appreciation of the humans behind the notes.
“She writes with the freedom of a master.”
Jennifer Vosters’ performance is equally remarkable. She is dressed in the period clothes of a young man, but begins the play in the person of Fanny Mendelssohn, early on telling the story of how the children were disguised as the family had to flee their home country one night for their safety. And for the purposes of that late night escape, Fanny, the elder, was dressed as a boy, and Felix, the younger, left in his sister’s care while their mother minded their infant sibling, was dressed as a little girl. This fun, gender-bending biographical detail serves as a perfect jumping off point for the costume and the dual role. And it also provides a reminder throughout the performance that, had Fanny been a man instead of a woman, her opportunities, and her life, would have been much different. After an introductory period establishing Fanny as a character, with references to her brother, and her own love of music, and skill at both its performance and composition, we get a transition to the character of Felix.
“I hear new bells, new footsteps, new cobblestones. A new taste on the wind.”
The setting establishes an old wooden music stand for Fanny, and another on the other side of the stage for Felix, and thereafter, one character can reference the other by gesturing to their physical space, even when they’re not occupying it. It’s a simple but incredibly effective use of theatrical convention, as is Vosters’ physical transformation back and forth between the two characters of sister and brother. There is a piano bench between the two music stands, out of which comes much sheet music, and a conductor’s baton. It is here that the actress sits and shifts from one side of the bench to the other, and one attitude to another, going from Fanny to Felix for the first time, in search of his conductor’s baton.
“Transcribed to two hands at one piano, filling a year of song.”
Thereafter, with baton in hand, conducting musicians being something a man (but not a woman) was allowed and encouraged to do, this is one signifier of Felix onstage. As Fanny in the beginning, Vosters had her hair down. Beginning her time as Felix, she puts it up in a pony tail at the back of her head. When we transition back to Fanny later, the baton will be stuck in her hair, an ornament of her appearance rather than a musical tool she’s allowed to use. The simple act of putting the baton in her hair, or pulling it out, is the transition from one character to the other, sometimes tripping back and forth at great speed later in the play, and Vosters’ performance never misses a beat or confuses the audience. Her precision means we always know who we’re looking at, who is speaking to us, whose side of the story we’re on.
“Felix can write light into a song. He writes how God writes.”
Sister and brother were close and shared music when they were younger, continuing to exchange musical compositions with one another through the mail as they grew up and Felix was encouraged to go out into the world, finding his fortune as a composer and conductor, while Fanny was encouraged to stay home and find a nice husband and raise a family (which she did). But Felix never stopped asking Fanny for her musical advice, as her instincts and inspirations were valuable to bringing Felix’s compositions to their full potential.
“He, like father, like so many men, does not understand the length of his own shadow.”
Fanny’s husband, also an artist, a painter, encouraged her to continuing composing herself, which she did. Her father forbade her publishing under her own name, as he considered it unladylike, and Felix was the musician in the family. But Felix made sure to help get some of Fanny’s work published alongside his own (after all, they were both F. Mendelssohn). However, even after their father died, Felix as the new head of the family, continued the prohibition on the publication of Fanny’s music. This is a decision he later questioned, when his sister when ahead and published on under her own married name at the encouragement of her husband and friends. Felix was troubled by the idea he might have played a role in holding his sister back when there was no need. How much further might she have gotten, how much more might she have done? Though it was a different time (the 19th century), the questions of gender roles and opportunity continue to resonate in our time.
“Could she not have been an exception?”
Songs Without Words is a beautiful portrait of the close relationship between a sister and brother who shared a passion and talent for music all their lives, though one became famous and celebrated for it and the other… was not allowed to be, but still did their best. Despite their diverging fortunes, they continued to rely on and inspire each other. It’s the story of familial love that we don’t often see treated with the same importance accorded to romantic love. It’s also that rare play that manages to capture the process of the artist and make it something understandable in which the audience can also become invested. It’s funny and lyrical and inspiring and heartbreaking, a truly lovely piece of theater.
“I don’t know if I’ve done enough. Enough to matter. Enough to survive.”
Songs Without Words (or, The Mendelssohn Play) is down in the Rarig Xperimental Theatre, one of the smaller venues, and the night I saw it, it sold out. It’s a sell-out risk for its Tuesday performance, Thursday’s performance doesn’t have any warning on it (yet) but they’ve already taken the closing performance off of pre-sale for Sunday so that means it’s going to be hard to get to see this one, but it is well worth the effort. I’m happy to see it doing so well and now wish it had been in a slightly larger house, both so more people could have a chance to see it, and so that the artist could benefit from additional ticket sales. However you get yourself into this show, you should try. It’s one of the very best in the festival this year.
5 Stars - Very Highly Recommended
Here’s some handy links to coverage of 5 Star and 4.5 Star Shows I've Seen (VERY Highly Recommend), 4 Star and 3.5 Star Shows I've Seen (Highly Recommended), Other Shows I've Seen (3 Stars or Less), as well as my Fringe Top 10, Top 11 to 20 and Returning Favorites lists for this year, and all the coverage of this year’s Minnesota Fringe Festival.
As I’m sure many artists are, I find myself struggling with the idea of
just “taking time off” (what a luxury) and submerging myself in a whole
lot of theater for 11 days while the world is on fire so… I’m going to
put some phrases and links down here (and at the end of each post going
forward) and if you find yourself compelled to explore one or more of
them, so much the better. There’s a lot going on, and it can be easy to
get overwhelmed and tune out, but as Congresswoman Sarah McBride
recently said, “If everybody shows a little courage, nobody needs to be a
hero.” I freely admit this list and these links are hardly
exhaustive. It's just something to get started. Do what you can, where
you can, however you can. Let’s help one another get through this.
Contacting your elected officials about the issues that matter to you (and protesting as necessary)
Starvation in the Gaza Strip
Immigration raids around the United States
Ukraine fighting off invasion by Russia
Trans rights
Climate change action
Housing shortage and the unhoused
Reproductive Rights
Voting rights, and running for office
The courts, from the Supreme Court on down to the local level
Don’t forget to laugh - even gallows humor is still humor
.jpg)
No comments:
Post a Comment