Tag Archives: Dave Malloy

Three Houses

For a play named after a family dwelling, Dave Malloy’s Three Houses has surprisingly little structure.  Set in a magical cocktail bar with an orchestra that can follow along in any key, three strangers share their experiences in a confessional open-mic night.  When the pandemic broke out, each one of them had just gone through a break-up with a partner and found themselves secluded and struggling mentally.  While there are similar strands within their tales, their ordeals only lightly touch, like their pinkies when they finally share a table.  Along the way, there are some wonderfully creative moments and beautiful melodies.  But like the current drive along the crumbling Highway 1 in Big Sur, a final point remains illusive.

In House #1, Susan (Margo Seibert) had been researching her next novel in Finland when COVID hit.  Unable to get back to the United States, she retreats to her grandmother’s abandoned house in the Latvian woods.  In a haze of red current wine, weed, and OCD, she uses the time to learn what she can about her ancestor.  House #2 is set to more uptempo tunes as we move from the deep woods to the sunny desert.  When her aunt returns to Korea leaving her New Mexico home unoccupied, Sadie (Mia Pak) takes refuge there.  Painfully missing her girlfriend, she further retreats into a SIM she has meticulously modeled on memories of her grandparents.  House #3 is actually a small basement apartment into which Beckett (J.D. Mollison) has moved after the end of his marriage.  On every level, it becomes the darkest of the dwellings, especially after he learns that his grandparents have just passed away in Ireland and paranoia sets in.  

Three Houses is the final piece of Malloy’s trilogy which includes Ghost Quartet and the memorable Octet.  Having written the music, lyrics, book and orchestrations, this work completely embraces his usual fascination with fables.  As they grapple with the effects of isolation and regret, each of our storytellers develops a relationship with a fictional being represented by puppets with tremendous personality designed by James Ortiz.  Elements of The Three Little Pigs play key roles and even show up in a sweater.  But when the inevitable wolf finally makes it to the door, he is dressed in grandma’s nightgown, which for fairytale purists will be perplexing.  

Mia Pak (with Pookie the Household Dragon) and Margo Seibert in Three Houses

All three soloists are terrific and support each other vocally and energetically.  Henry Stram and Ching Valdes-Aran appear as all of the mystical grandparents.  Scott Stangland rounds out the cast exuding something between command and menace as the bartender/MC Wolf.  However, Annie Tippe’s direction is both mystifying and maddening, especially given her assured hand with Octet.  The same black box space has been splendidly designed by the imaginative team of dots to feel warm and inclusive and a tad old-fashioned.  Fabric is draped all along the mezzanine, and the orchestra members sit in armchairs adorned with crocheted throws.  Center stage is an elaborate wooden bar, but even from the middle of the side section — normally a great spot in ¾ round — I could not make out what was on the changing backdrop behind it.  The vast majority of the staging is forward facing with the actors sometimes positioned side-by-side blocking each other from view.  Lighting designer Christopher Bowser has added some attention-getting effects and Haydee Zelideth costumes are a likewise literally colorful component that visually adds to the stories.  Nick Kourtides envelops the audience with his sound design, which appropriately alternates between feeling comforting and smothering.

Ultimately, Three Houses is more like a trio of discontinuous chapters of an unfinished novel than a fully fleshed out musical.  While the emotive songs and fanciful imagery of Octet have carried over, the clear interconnection of  those characters is missing here.  But there is some interesting terrain explored in finding discipline amid chaos and all the ways in which you can and can’t get to know someone else and — through them — yourself: vast themes to cover in a mere 100 minutes.  The production runs through June 9 at the Signature Theatre  (480 West 42nd Street) where Malloy is Premiere Resident.  Tickets ($49 – $124) and information are available at https://signaturetheatre.org/show/three-houses/

Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812

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photo by Chat Batka

When it comes to Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812, I am of two minds. My first mind was captivated by the elaborate and imaginative stagecraft. The scenic design by Mimi Lien reaches all the way to the back row of the theater, with drapery-covered walls dotted by family portraits.  Throughout the mezzanine, golden end tables adorned with  artificial candlelight are placed every fourth seat. Down below, the stage is divided into several sections representing Pierre’s study as well as the salons and ballrooms of other aristocratic homes in Moscow.  Each area has audience and orchestra members interspersed. A maze of platforms and ramps allow dancers and singers to encircle viewers with ecstatic performance.  This has the added benefit of ensuring an immersive experience no matter where you sit. For Rachel Chavkin’s inspired undertaking of direction alone, I would recommend this upbeat event to some.

However, my second mind was numbed by Dave Malloy’s pedantic and instantly forgettable musical numbers. I have experience playing in a Renaissance orchestra and I’ve studied jazz piano, so I’m pretty good at picking up a tune. Yet there was not one number from this show that I could remember by the time I reached  7th Avenue. Using phrases from Russian folk tunes is clever, but it is simply irritating when long stretches of dialogue are set to the same five note pattern.

I attended on a night that Josh Groban was unavailable. His standby Scott Strangland, who sang the role of Pierre in Boston, is a more solid figure with a similar vocal style. (To those thinking perhaps this is why I am less praiseful than some, I quickly add that this is very much an ensemble piece.) Standouts in the cast include the expressive Amber Gray who purrs as Hélène a manipulative  adulteress and a delicious Lucas Steele as her rakish brother Anatole.  Both are holdovers from the Ars Nova production.  On the other end of the spectrum is Grace McLean who for her Broadway debut has been taught that a pitchy screech is a great way to communicate high emotion in her role as matron Marya D.

To the credit of the entire cast, I heard each and every line.  I would still recommend that anyone unfamiliar with War and Peace read the synopsis and study the family tree provided in the program.  The primary source for the libretto is a 1922 translation by Aylmer and Louise Maude.  Covering a mere 70 pages of the classic work, the plot stops at a major turning point for the lead characters, which isn’t a very satisfying place at which to end.  While I admire Malloy’s ambition, his lyrics are insipid with little clever turns of phrase beyond the opening number.  I don’t expect everyone to be Lin-Manuel, but I did anticipate shrewder storytelling.

There are times when Bradley King’s lighting and Nicholas Pope’s sound are so frantic their design feels like being on a date with someone who’s already won you over but keeps trying so hard that you start questioning your initial impressions.  Paloma Young’s costume topped off with Leah J. Loukas’s hair and wig design are as period-punk-playful as necessary to support Ms. Chavkin’s creative vision as well as the exuberant movement of the ensemble.

Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812  is certainly a joyful one-of-a-kind experience though built around a sadly bland musical score.  It is playing at the newly curtailed and quite comfortable Imperial Theater.  A new block of tickets through September of 2017 is on sale at http://greatcometbroadway.com.