THEATRE REVIEW:
''THE HELIOTROPE BOUQUET BY
SCOTT JOPLIN AND LOUIS CHAUVIN'' at the La Jolla Playhouse
KPBS AIRDATE: AUGUST 19,1991
It's
almost as if we're watching "The Heliotrope Bouquet by Scott Joplin and
Louis Chauvin" through an opium haze.
But ragtime wizard Joplin wasn't as much into mind-bending drugs as his
contemporary Chauvin. At the time we
meet him, however, in 1917, Joplin is sliding downward from syphilis, and his
mind is fuzzy with fever, as he flashes back on important places, people and
moments in his life.
Scenes
don't so much change as ooze into each other, as Joplin recalls his days in the
"sportin' houses" of St. Louis and New Orleans, the "cuttin'
contests" where one pianist tries to outdo the other, his first wife and
their dead infant, his wild days, his white publisher, and his sad
acknowledgment that Chauvin was really a more brilliant musician than he.
But
Chauvin couldn't read music -- or even his name -- and although he "played
like magic," he lived only for women and opium. "The rags flow through my fingers," he said. "I don't need to write them down."
But
one rag, one slow-drag two-step called "The Heliotrope Bouquet," was
written down -- by co-composer Scott Joplin -- and it's the only surviving work
of the forgotten Chauvin, who died of syphilis at age 26.
It's
not quite the Salieri-Mozart story, of mediocrity outliving genius. In fact, there isn't much of a story at
all. But pieces of an era waft by us in
slow-motion, and a heady, dreamy, surreal set of images unfolds before us,
transporting us away for 80 mystical minutes.
In
their real lives, Joplin was clearly the go-getter and self-promoter. Chauvin left everything to chance. "Mr. Cautious Joplin" Chauvin
called him, "always with one eye on the future." Ultimately, thanks to the 1973 movie,
"The Sting," Joplin found a future.
This
play's future is less certain, but one can understand the support of the
AT&T New Plays for the Nineties Project, which gave $50,000 grants to the
La Jolla Playhouse and its co-producer,
Baltimore's Center Stage.
It's
a highly innovative and creative piece, crafted rhythmically and poetically by
playwright Eric Overmyer, and lovingly, imagistically directed by his former
Baltimore colleague, Stan Wojewodski, with slow, sensual choreography by Donald
Byrd.
The
cast is impressive, with powerful performances put in by John Cothran, Jr. as a
distraught, distressed Joplin, and Victor Mack as a toothy, engaging, and
cynical Chauvin. The sportin' women are
better individually than in their choral speaking, but they look irresistible
in Catherine Zuber's sultry costumes.
Judyann Elder stands out as Joplin's first and second wives, switching
back and forth between the two with effortless grace. Christopher Barreca backs the piece with a stark black, windowed
set, with an evocative, winding staircase spiraling down to center-stage, just
beyond the reach of a solitary upright piano, which sometimes emits luscious
rags pre-recorded by William Ransom.
Everything
works in delicious service of the gossamer whole, one man's self-examination -- reliving, reworking and regretting
some of his past. Very potent stuff,
but as diaphanous as the purple scrim curtain that surrounds it. Don't search too hard for heavy meaning and
message. Just let the look and feel and
sound of ""The Heliotrope Bouquet'" wash over you.
I'm
Pat Launer, for KPBS radio.
©1991 Patté Productions Inc.