Review: American Stage Presents RAGTIME: THE MUSICAL IN THE PARK

"Never play this piece fast. It is never right to play Ragtime fast..." --Scott Joplin, quoted at the beginning of the original E.L. Doctorow novel, RAGTIME

"I enjoyed it...what I could hear of it." --overheard at Intermission of RAGTIME: THE MUSICAL IN THE PARK

I was skeptical. The American Stage in the Park musicals are usually boisterous Bacchanalias, where productions like Mamma Mia or The Rocky Horror Picture Show thrive in this loose setting. Audience members relax on blankets, eating and drinking heavily, and usually wind up singing along with the musical numbers of whatever beloved show is being presented. Rock musicals work wonders in this environment, as will Disney shows (which is why Beauty and the Beast, next year's "in the park" extravaganza, caused the audience to ooh and aah when it was announced pre-show). I remember one "in the park" happening years ago where I was serenaded with "Bohemian Rhapsody" by two inebriants at Intermission. I think I recall that moment more than the production that I was reviewing.

So, I wondered, what is a park experience like with a more somber, sober, serious piece, not some follow-the-bouncing-ball drunken singalong? And that's where my skepticism set in about RAGTIME: THE MUSICAL IN THE PARK, the extraordinarily potent work based on the E.L. Doctorow novel, with music by Stephen Flaherty, lyrics by Lynn Ahrens and book by the late great Terrence McNally.

It's a terrifically pertinent and moving musical, but is this the best venue to showcase the full extent of its power? It doesn't have the singalong quotient that mark most "park" offerings, unless the drunken audience wants to loudly sing along to "A Shtetl iz Amereke" or "The Night That Goldman Spoke at Union Square." Yes, a concert version was presented at Ellis Island, but that's a historic happening. Here, does it work? While RAGTIME has its share of big, lively musical numbers, some of its strongest moments rest in its solos and duets.

The audience sat transfixed throughout, mesmerized.

Although I may still remain skeptical after watching the performance, parts of the outdoor experience brought new meaning to the show, like when crows started settling on the lighting rails during the opening number as if waiting for Melanie Daniels, and later, other birds appropriately flew away as if on cue during the trio, "Journey On."

It's a big show, epic, not just in production scale and the size of the cast (nine-piece band and twenty-three--count 'em, twenty-three!--actors) but in its scope, its themes. The original novel, so much of which is included in the musical, struck me like a bolt of lightning when I first read it for an eighth grade book report in the mid-1970s. It was the first serious work I can recall where numerous famous people of the past from all walks of life (Booker T. Washington, Harry Houdini, Emma Goldman, Henry Ford, J.P. Morgan) rub elbows with the author's fictional characters, long before Zelig and Forrest Gump played a similar game. History came alive on the page, and with the musical written in the 1990s, on the stage.

RAGTIME centers on three communities of people at the turn of the 20th Century: Black society focusing on Harlem pianist Coalhouse Walker, Jr. and his tragic courtship with Sarah, who has given birth to their "bastard" son; Eastern European immigrants, where we follow the downs and ups of the Jewish immigrant, Tateh; and an upper-class white family in New Rochelle, New York, so white bread and seemingly nondescript that they are not given actual names but called "Mother," "Father" and "Younger Brother."

These characters hang out or run into the celebrities and world-shakers of the time, including Evelyn Nesbit who was part of a love triangle that left one of her wealthy lovers (architect Stanford White) dead. Characters enter and exit the stage, one after the other, constantly coming and going. Episodic plots converge, some incidental, while others become major turning points in history. All the storylines are given depth, but the central tale rests on the racially-charged injustice Coalhouse Walker, Jr. faces and his subsequent revenge. When his antagonists brazenly call him the n-word in the open air of Demens Landing Park, the audience audibly gasped and it's as if time suddenly stood still with shock. (For those put off by such epithets in this setting, first of all, don't read or see To Kill Mockingbird; and second, the only way to show black America's struggles with the intolerance, hatred and evil of the day is to, yes, show it and not to sugarcoat it.)

As Coalhouse Walker, Dante Murray captures the character's headstrong pride, stubbornness and stoicism. He has a magnificent singing voice, so gorgeously resonant and deep, that reaches into your soul and tingles the spine in such songs as "Justice" and "Make Them Hear You." But I'm missing the heat, the sweaty fire that sets Coalhouse off when tragedy hits. Mr. Murray, strong as he is, is too controlled here. He shoots a gun, but we don't flinch because he seems too sane. You would never know that, due to his inability to deal with the injustice and tragedy in his life, he descends into unhinged, deadly vengeance.

As his wife, Sarah, Leah Stewart brings so much heart to the part. Her rendition of one of the most gorgeously written songs in Broadway history, "Your Daddy's Son," is beautifully sung as she stands under the Statue of Liberty's giant crown; however, this song is one of the few that can instantly bring me to tears, but it didn't here. And her duet with Coalhouse on "Wheels of a Dream," the show's most famous number, works well enough but didn't have the punch that it often has. I needed more of a connection between Coalhouse and Sarah so that the ultimate tragedy, horrifying as it is, becomes even more shattering.

As "Mother," Sarah Middough has an incredible singing voice and captures the character's dilemma--the stasis of upper-class life with "Father" and her new world with the immigrant, Tateh. Donned in white, twirling a white parasol, Ms. Middough's "Mother" seems like she has just emerged from a Whistler painting. Her "Goodbye, My Love" gave me goosebumps.

Larry Alexander is in fine form and brings so many layers to "Father"--a part that could be one dimensional if not careful. As his son, Edgar, an electric Martin Powers all but steals the show, resembling Tommy Bond of the "Our Gang" comedies mixed with Jackie Earle Haley's brat, Adore, in Day of the Locust. The production jolts to life whenever they appear on the stage.

Matthew Harper Stevenson is wonderful as Younger Brother, a lost soul trying to find his place in the world, like a jaded Pippin. He goes from loving the starlet, Evelyn Nesbit, whose rebuff from his advances sets him off. He ultimately lands with Coalhouse's gang simply because he knows how to blow up buildings. Mr. Stevenson is spellbinding, in great vocal form, and emerges as one of the tops of the cast.

Laura McKenna is wildly fun as Evelyn Nesbit, but you never sense the pre-Marilyn icon that she became, a sort of Symbol of the Ragtime era. She struts her stuff in her big number, "Crime of the Century," a circus-like trial number that could come straight out of Chicago. Ms. McKenna goes all out, spreading her legs as the infamous "girl on a swing."

Billy Goldstein is brilliant as the Tateh, so soulful and so protective of his daughter (a wonderful Maria Lara). Anthony Gervais is delightful as escape artist Harry Houdini, and Derek Baxter adds so much to the role of J. P. Morgan.

Beth Gelman certainly brings to life the passion of anarchist Emma Goldman, and Clinton Harris has a booming window-breaking voice as the proud Booker T. Washington. The talented Mona Lin, a Korean-American female, is an interesting choice, a la Hamilton, to play the crotchety Grandfather who seems to hate everything. Troy Brooks, Jae Shanae, Megan Hoxie, and A.R. Williams all do remarkable work. Young actors, Nigel Bailey and Noah Jordan, appear as Coalhouse Walker III on different nights.

Cody Taylor exudes power as Henry Ford and mocking, searing hatred as the scoundrel, Willie Conklin; he emerges as another stand out. And Siobhan Monique became perhaps my favorite in the cast with her stirring vocals in a variety of roles.

Erica Sutherlin, one of our area's top directors, guides her stellar cast to create this memorable, mammoth production. She directs with so much grace and heart. With her choreographer, Heather Beal, and amazing music director, Latoya McCormick, she has created magic. Numbers like "Henry Ford," where an assembly line comes to life to create a Model-T, work wonders (it's a universe away from similar-themed "Stool Boom" from Waiting for Guffman). And "What a Game," an ode to America's favorite pastime, is loads of fun.

Teresa L. Williams' set, aided by Dalton Hamilton's lighting design, is a masterpiece. Mammoth chunks of the Statue of Liberty appear in three separate places (mirroring the three separate communities presented in the show). It reminded by of the damaged Lady Liberty at the end of Planet of the Apes. Her giant crown hovers over stage right; her torch, that gets brighter as the night goes on, reaches from the middle; and her foot is stage left, chains leading to a column featuring faint images of black faces and immigrants. (I particularly like how the torch in the center also acts as a ship's funnel when Father goes off to the North Pole.) Having the Statue of Liberty in all places underlines the shows meaning--that the struggle for a piece of the American Dream is everywhere you venture, no matter where you turn.

But all of the hard work in RAGTIME: THE MUSICAL IN THE PARK seemed undermined by one thing: annoying audio and mic problems. Years ago, I wrote that there are three facts of life: "Death, taxes, and sound issues during the American Stage in the Park shows." They had gotten somewhat better the last time I experienced an "in the park" musical (Mamma Mia in 2019), but it seems to have slid back into Badville this year with RAGTIME. It becomes infuriating. The sound would just drop out in the middle of a line or an important lyric. At one point Emma Goldman gave a raging speech and the mic wasn't turned on or not working, and we couldn't hear her. (She had to be handed a microphone by a stage hand.) Mics were left on where we heard backstage chatter and whispers. You might think this is just a minor occurrence and that should be expected and forgiven with so many microphones in an open park setting. I get all that, but that doesn't excuse the fact that these sound glitches and flubs actually get in the way of our enjoyment of the show. I don't know whether it's by choice or accidental, but no sound designer is mentioned in the online program, and that's probably a good thing.

Hopefully the sound issues will get better soon because RAGTIME deserves to be seen (and heard) in the best light. It's an important show, brilliantly written and performed with so much heart. Whether it's right or not for the park setting isn't really an issue. It's there, in all of its imperfect glory, and it needs to be seen and experienced.

RAGTIME is a dream of a show.

RAGTIME: THE MUSICAL IN THE PARK ends its run at Demens Landing Park in St. Pete on May 14th. Also, Pride Night is coming up: April 23rd! And don't miss Wagtime in the Park on April 30th where you can bring your dogs, cats, chickens and ferrets--it should be lots of fun! You don't have to bring a pet to enjoy the show that night.

Photo Credit: Chaz D Photography

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