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Review: SPRING AWAKENING Is Stark, Spooky at Split Stage

By: Jun. 14, 2016
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Duncan Sheik and Steven Sater's musical Spring Awakening is defined by its contradictions. The music is intensely modern, while the story and intentionally archaic, stilted dialogue is very much of the European theatre at the dawn of the twentieth century. The songs drive the show's momentum along without ever advancing the plot or commenting directly on plot of characters; rather, they are essentially a mood-creating impressionist soundtrack, a hip companion CD matched emotionally if not stylistically to a period drama. Given these criteria, the show can often feel half-baked, or too conventional. Director Barbara Burgess-Lefebvre and choreographer Aaron Cook have paid some tribute to the iconic, internet-beloved original Broadway production of the musical (fans will surely recognize the teased hipster hairdos and hand microphones produced for musical numbers), but the moments that work best are the ones that diverge from tradition.

In an oppressive, conservative German community circa 1900, dreamy idealist Wendla (Kristin Carmella) and nihilist intellectual Melchior (Cody Larko) meet after years apart. These high schoolers have immediate chemistry, but Wendla's mother (Renee Kern, who plays every adult female role) has kept her willfully ignorant of the facts of life and where babies come from, just as the schoolmaster (Michael Curran) keeps his boys, if not ignorant of sex, at least forbidden to think or speak of it. Sparks fly through the boys' and girls' classes when Melchior writes an essay explaining human sexuality for lazy, troubled Moritz (Nick Black), whose burgeoning sexuality confuses and frightens him. As the cork is pulled, the students begin exploring love, lust, kink, homosexuality and sex games- all naïve of what these things are and mean, or what the consequences could be.

Kristin Carmella's Wendla strikes a careful balance between being childlike and childish, and she comes across as innocent enough to not understand sexuality and love, but not so young as to be unable to consent; her Wendla is sheltered, but not dumb, and her singing voice fits the role's quiet balladeering well. Her counterpart, Cody Larko, is not as gifted of a vocalist but provides an intense, nuanced physicality that sets him apart from the other characters. Where many would sing and stomp, Larko is seen repeatedly in moments of interpretive dance, his spastic and precise movements illustrating the turmoil in Melchilr's mind. It's an interesting creative choice on the part of Larko and choreographer Aaron Cook, and I would have liked to see it developed more as a through-line, rather than only popping up sporadically.

Nick Black's Moritz is the flashier of the two male roles, with more uptempo musical numbers and melodrama. His unusually gentle portrayal gives us not the antisocial, lazy Moritz most commonly portrayed (and often a little too close to the characterization of Melchior), but an uncomplicated, simple daydreamer, not all that bright. The tragedy of his failure, mental breakdown and decline is not of a young punk bucking the system, but of an underachiever left behind instead of helped along. His female counterpart, the almost ghostly Ilse (Victoria Buchtan), embodies what happens to these liminal figures who fall through the cracks of education and polite society: she is homeless and dissolute, living in an artist's colony where she is implied to be alternately neglected and sexually abused. As she floats along the periphery of the play, fraught with ghosts as it is, Buchtan's quiet, soulful performance leaves some question whether her character is alive or dead.

The young ensemble, many of whom play multiple roles as students and prisoners in juvenile detention, bring energy to the musical's famous hopping-and-thrashing style of choreography. Dance captain Allison Petrillo, in the otherwise thankless role of Thea, has more choreography than the other students, and often supplies the kind of physical lyricism that Cody Larko brings to Melchior. Similarly among the male ensemble, Mason Lewis makes the most of a small featured role as Hanschen, the only one of the students who can truly be called a bad seed. Charming, manipulative and sexually flexible, Lewis- whose character is introduced fantasizing about seducing and murdering a young woman while enjoying some private bathroom time- gives his Hanschen the seedy, sleazy charm of a sociopathic Ferris Bueller, even as he beguiles the naïve, much more sexually confused Ernst (Michael Krut).

What separates Split Stage's Spring Awakening from so many others is the hushed, somber feeling of the music. Granted, "Totally Fucked" and "The Bitch of Living" still manage to rock out with the electric guitar lead that made them the show's signature songs, but one key element of Duncan Sheik's score has been deleted: the DJ. Most of the show's numbers, on Broadway and the cast recording (and especially on the even more electronica-influenced concept recording Duncan Sheik made himself), are anchored by the fusion of chamber-folk acoustic instruments and strings with trip-hop beats and synth textures, supplied by a DJ with a computer mixing program. The band, under Ben Bedenbaugh's direction, has dropped the electronica element entirely, without reorchestrating to fill the void. This dramatically alters the sound of some of the musical numbers: "I Believe," the music under the sex scene that finishes Act 1, is hushed, stark roots folk instead of hip-hop with a gospel hook; similarly, "Whispering" is more Regina Spektor acoustic than Lana Del Ray chillwave.

Finally, in another nod to the recent Deaf West Broadway revival of the piece, Split Stage's Spring Awakening will offer ASL interpretation for the deaf and hard of hearing at the Friday, 6/17/16 performance. While the production isn't perfect (the absence of mic'd vocals has rendered the stylistic use of hand microphones a little absurd), perfect productions of Sheik and Sater's challenging musical are rare. Rather, Burgess-Lefebvre has found room for interpretation and exploration in a musical that is about so many things that, often, it says nothing at all.



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