But upon closer inspection, the pointed thrust of its stage begins to suggest the prow of a ship, or perhaps the gable of a house. And is that a ribbon? sand Could it be outlined against the dark ocean of the theater floor?
Please call it Club Ithaca. We are in an island kingdom where Odysseus has famously not been seen for decades. There, Odysseus' long-suffering wife keeps the home fire burning and fends off hordes of suitors trying to stake their claim. Not just her hand, but also the throne that came with it. And the singer and narrator who takes the central microphone to journey through that waiting landscape is a woman herself. Penelope, wife of Odysseus, daughter of Icarius, and mother of Telemachus, is primarily defined in Homeric epics by her relationship with the Virgin Mary. The men in her life.
This is “Penelope”,” A wonderfully charming new musical from songwriter Alex Bechtel and co-writers Grace MacLean and Eva Steinmetz seeks to center its heroine a little more firmly. And while the result isn't exactly a revolutionary reinvention, Steinmetz's production at Signature Theater (the show's regional premiere after its first run at the Hudson Valley Shakespeare Festival last fall) is Intellectually and emotionally advocating for a change in focus.
It's also a great showcase for lead performer Jessica Phillips, who brings together an interesting sense of interiority that never descends into extravagance. She's loose and sarcastic one minute (on songs like “Drunk Iliad,” compressing the equivalent of the Trojan War into an effective “Ladies Who Lunch”-flavored package); He then takes center stage and takes command in more serious moments. What is most memorable about her is the lyrical gestural language she and Steinmetz found in the passages describing Penelope's various devotions (prayer, weaving, bedtime ritual). They come back in the most beautiful moments of the evening as these distilled and evocative semiotic signals. It's a wordless sequence that eloquently describes what Odysseus' final return looks and feels like to his soulmate.
While this is certainly a departure for Phillips, it is one of the uniquely appealing aspects of Bechtel et al.'s approach. “Penelope” has built a way for Ben Moss' great band to make you feel like you're part of the action. They're an all-black, string-fueled Greek chorus, even channeling the voice of a goddess in one ironic and revealing scene, and the show's music wraps around the book and lyrics. The method feels thoroughly intimate, almost sexual.
And what a great piece of music Bechtel wrote: “Penelope” is chamber music in many ways, with an orchestration that combines a classic piano quartet with a drum set, ranging from country-folk naughty to earthy. It has a musical flavor that hints at everything. Arvo Pärt's modest, ghostly, and esoteric teachings. (I also heard hints of Joni Mitchell when Phillips tackled the high passages in one song with a light, sinuous version of her steely treble.)
The story of Penelope is famous for how she kept her suitors at arm's length for a long time. She said she would decide once her weaving is finished, but every night after they get drunk around the campfire, she unravels her own work. It ended that day. In the story of “Penelope,'' Phillips' heroine talks about the ever-new pictures she makes with each new strip of fabric, as if it were an adventure. It's a kind of escape, a motionless journey, a Scheherazade time-stealing mode of storytelling. . She went home wishing she had listened one more day.
penelope, through April 21 at the Signature Theater in Arlington, Virginia. Approximately 75 minutes without a break. sigtheater.org.