The Colorado Mesa University theater department’s production of “Polar Opposites: Irving Berlin and Cole Porter” had everything “A Grand Night for Singing” didn’t, though both plays fell into the cabaret style. The play is the first of three cabaret style shows, all of which present the music of six major composers, from what the department calls the American Songbook Cycle.
“Polar Opposites” was close and intimate, a mood likely strengthened by the small size of the black box, but present in the presentation as well. Director Jeremy R. Franklin, CMU’s director of musical theatre, honed in on this mood as well, with direct addresses to the audience and the conversational style of his monologues.
Though in some areas, the monologues could have stood to be more rehearsed, the opening monologue was the perfect balance of informal and practiced, as Franklin’s stage persona came across as a person who knew his material well, but spoke with the ease of an especially interesting documentary historian.
In some ways, the performance made the audience part of an insider’s club, or at least referenced one that seems to exist, comprised of local community members who frequent most, if not all, of the department’s shows. Franklin talked about Jill Van Brussels, as if the crowd personally knew her—and many seemed to, or at least be familiar with her work at CMU.
Whether they knew her or not, they were treated to a brief anecdote about Franklin’s discovery of her “powerhouse soprano” singing voice, after which came two duets by the pair.
However, the intimacy of the setting and presentation were just what this cabaret needed, to achieve more than the choir-concert—though very fast-faced—atmosphere of “A Grand Night for Singing.” The minimalist setting made one feel as though they were part of a special performance, in a small, familiar and comfortable venue.
Only a piano, a drum set and a seat for a bass player were on the stage when I entered. Franklin delivered his lines with simply a hand-held microphone in one hand, and a binder in the other. Half history-lecturer and half performer, Franklin gave the show both coherency and context.
Unlike the previous cabaret-style show of the year, which featured songs only linked thematically, “Polar Opposites” had a vast degree of movement. The play progressed on one hand chronologically, alternating between Berlin and Porter’s songs, discussing the historical context of each stylistic change. On the other hand, the play moved from simple to complex and from more rehearsed to more intimate, ending with the audience joining the “cast” for a verse of Berlin’s “White Christmas.”
The structure of play was essentially a historical context, followed by a song. However, the contextual monologues—performed by Franklin—were relevant and often amusing anecdotes, instead of a collection of meaningless dates and musical techniques. By the end of the show, audience members knew Berlin could only play piano in the key of F sharp, and Porter was a man after which Fred Astaire embodied his stage persona.
The historical asides provided the play with many necessary attributes. In addition to explaining the relevance of these composers in musical history, the information broke up what would otherwise be an uninterrupted number of out-of-context songs. The “breathing room” allocated in between each song made me anticipate each performance, rather than look down at the program, anticipating the final numbers.
During his monologues, Franklin even discussed how it was a performance of Berlin’s “Annie Get Your Gun” that originally brought him to Grand Junction. The personal tie in from the director gave the play the timelessness that “Grand Night” strove for, but couldn’t quite attain.
This cabaret, on the other hand, served as a testament to the power blended art forms can have; it was at once a small concert, a historical documentary aside and Franklin’s personal narrative.
With “Polar Opposites,” instead of questioning why the department chose to focus on old composers with songs that are likely unfamiliar to most students, the performance’s historical bent justified their inclusion.
It is still fair to assert that students are unlikely to see this show as well; a fact supported by Friday’s attendance, as I looked around the theatre and saw that I was one of perhaps two or three students. However, students interested in history or music should give this cabaret, or those in the rest of the series, a chance. As with “Grand Night,” is it possibly because of the lack of explanation or information regarding the performance itself beforehand, that less-musically inclined students decided not to attend this “cabaret.”
Highlights of the play included Joe Castinado’s “bookending” songs; Castinado was the first student to perform, and he ended the production as well, the only student to perform choice. Castinado, as with “Grand Night,” was a safe choice to open and close the production, both songs were well executed.
Alyssa Gose’s comical and mock-angry “I Hate Men” and Brooklyn Buhre’s “Always True To You,” both from Porter’s “Kiss Me, Kate,” were show highlights as well.
As with “Grand Night,” a final nod should be given to the musicians, the most noticeable of which was Doug Morrow. Morrow played piano for every number, providing an upbeat and technically-sound accompaniment. Often, the piano portions were just an enjoyable as the singing itself, and the sound certainly injected energy into the otherwise rather controlled performance of most songs.
Though the performance only runs for one more night, Oct. 21, students should be sure to drop into the last performance, and perhaps they’ll learn a few things about American musical history.
