September 11, 2003

The Plays of Eugene O’Neill Could Be Music to My Ears

Filed under: Art and About Music — admin @ 2:44 pm

One of my favorite magical moments in the theater happened 10 years ago in London during a production of “Cyrano de Bergerac.” It was a good production of a good play where both the comedy and the love triangle were working well until a scene where Cyrano and his pals surprisingly and effortlessly transitioned from their dialogue into an a cappella barroom song about friendship. The camaraderie underscored by that song was heartfelt and inspiring. The number stopped the show. It was the only music in the play, and suddenly, the production went from good to fabulous for me.

I’m an auditory person. I can read a sentence a dozen times and not be able to tell you what it says, but speak it to me once and I’ll remember it forever. Most artforms don’t touch me at an emotional level unless they incorporate sound or music in some way. When the Gold Coast Chamber Players put a piece of artwork on stage that “illustrates” their music, that works for me. Cal Shakes has made a conscientious effort the last few seasons to use music in the plays as Shakespeare originally intended. He was a playwright who knew the way to an audience’s heart is often through their ears, but far too many Shakespeare companies drop the music from their productions.

But music’s power over me is about to be tested by the Eugene O’Neill Foundation, Tao House. A musical revue written and directed by Moraga resident and Saint Mary’s College professor Dan Cawthon will feature the songs that influenced O’Neill’s plays. “O’Neill: The Rhythms of His Soul” is at the Village Theatre in Danville as part of the Eugene O’Neill Festival 2003.

I didn’t know that O’Neill was a devotee of pop songs from the early twentieth century and that he used musical phrases to underscore scenes, set the mood or establish a character. O’Neill didn’t write the music himself, but he obviously understood that we all have a soundtrack for our lives, even the characters in a play. Cawthon notes that almost all the music to which O’Neill alludes in his 50 plays was written before 1914, the year he wrote his first play. Cawthon says O’Neill wasn’t drawing from the culture around him for inspiration, but rather calling forth “the music that shaped his soul.”

Suddenly, I find myself interested in a playwright who, up until now, I associated with extremely depressing plays and mandatory term paper assignments. Sure, I appreciate the Nobel prize and four Pulitzers he won. I understand the historical impact he made by elevating the status of American dramas to a respected place on the world stage. In search of connecting with the lauded playwright, I’ve written two stories over the years about the high school artistic talents who spend time studying at Tao House, O’Neill’s Danville home. I thought by shadowing others walking in his footsteps, I too might come to feel his greatness. Nope. I can’t seem to connect with his material on an emotional level, and for me, that makes for an unsatisfying theatrical experience.

Now I learn that O’Neill loved the tunes of composer George M. Cohan, and one of his favorite songs was “Shenandoah.” Well, old Eugene and I finally have something to talk about over a beer.

Cawthon has based his revue on an O’Neill songbook compiled by UC Berkeley professor Travis Bogard. Four vocalists explore themes whose titles alone evoke the mood of O’Neill’s work — the American Dream, the Sea, the Barroom, Romance, Ireland, the South, Songs for the Misbegotten, and a collection of hymns entitled “Behind Life.”

An evening of music from O’Neill’s point of view may be just what I need to be re-introduced to an American treasure and begin our relationship anew on common ground. Or it could just be a great night of music.