That's right folks, as soon as one of the Johanns (or was it a Georg?) (I’ll explain later…) opened his mouth and uttered the magic word “alliance” I cried out “OMG! That’s it!” Remember the "Survivor" motto? “Outwit, outplay, outlast"? Exactly! And if one pop culture reference isn’t enough for you, and you’ve also always had a fondness for the Crane brothers, and oddly enough you find the combination I’m about to propose not at all strange, but quite irresistable, "Bach at Leipzig" is the play for you: It’s "Survivor"… with a 'tribe' of Frasier types…in wigs! That's it, my review in one sentence! Signing off.No, come back! Just kidding!
I sound a little flippant? Well, maybe... Let's cover the basics, before we come back to the question. The basics: Leipzig 1722. After organist Johann Kuhnau dies, six applicants (apart from "The Greatest Organist in Germany") compete for the position of organ master at the Thomaskirche. That we are watching the follies of minor characters in the eyes of history is indicated by the fact that all six are called either Georg, or Johann, in reference to real musical greats Georg Philipp Telemann (the aforementioned "Greatest Organist in Germany", with short, silent appearances in the play, flashes of red and gold), and Johann Sebastian Bach. We never see him, only hear his music, but of course we know that Bach will capture the laurels in the end, in more than one respect. Our six protagonist are painfully aware that their abilities don't measure up, so they see themselves forced to resort to intrigue in various forms, behavior as undignified as entertaining to the audience. The play follows the structure of a fugue in its composition, ingeniously developing repetitions, variations, variations on repetitions, and then some.
Which brings me back to the reason why my intro might have sounded casual: I couldn't help but create a counterpoint (wink!) to all the cleverness , and learnedness, and sophistication with which the play dazzles you to a point where your head starts spinning. It was Itamar Moses' first wildly successful, full length play, and he skillfully packed in all the inventiveness, enthusiasm for play writing, and genius with which he was obviously bursting. Which makes for a very clever play, almost too clever at times, when it dithers on the verge of preciousness with its witty, witty wordplay. That said, let me tell you why you should go see the play (even if you're not a fan of "Survivor" or "Frasier"):
Shakespeare Santa Cruz's production, directed by Art Manke, is terrifically entertaining! The acting is superb. The youngest speaking member of the ensemble seems not quite as strong as the the rest of the cast at first, but reveals his talents later, during a splendid 6-way sword fight. For a play so focused on words the choreography was a surprise and a delight. It moves the show swiftly along, and ties in nicely with the fugue inspired structure. Every word duel between two competitors turns into either a pas de deux, or a fencing match, incriminating letters between outstretched fingers taking the place of rapiers. The voluptuousness of B Modern's costumes emphasizes fluent and graceful movements.
The question remains, even if it's a pleasure to follow their fighting, their scheming, even if the verbal exchanges are hilarious, why should we care about these six scoundrels? Because in the end, while listening to Bach, while counting in utter admiration the number of voices in his fugue, our morally impaired musicians reveal that they do indeed have an immortal soul. "In the world of music, Bach is god," a friend once told me. The decadence of a play that delights in having actors play the roles of players in a game is reigned in by its final deep bow to the pure, incorruptible power of music.
(Photo: r.r. jones, showing Drew Foster, Allen Gilmore, Larry Paulsen, Stephen Caffrey, Sean Gorski, Mike Ryan, Paul Vincent O'Connor)
