Warren Leight writes jazz. Not for instrumentalists but for actors. Through reminiscent monologues, overlapping phrases in conversations that unfold and are retold, musician jokes as old as scales, and pauses of quiet recognition. And he can do it twice without quite repeating himself. At the Ensemble Theatre of Cincinnati in its premiere full production, "Glimmer, Glimmer, and Shine" fortifies Leight's reputation as a theatrical writer with a musical ear and a compassionate heart matched by a truthful eye. Under the guidance of producing artistic director D. Lynn Meyers, the show also demonstrates the important role of small professional theatres, even ones far from the glimmer and glamour of both coasts, in creating exciting new plays.
Ensemble opened last season with Leight's Tony Award-winning "Side Man". While "Glimmer" isn't a sequel to that semi-autobiographical play, it explores familiar territory: the price of a career as a jazz musician on family life. Gritty memories of drugs, booze, and women on the road are back. So is a jazz soundtrack, now including a haunting duet recorded by Leight's father and a friend. This time the world of leftover furniture and dreams is in stark contrast to the sterile, upper-class realm of Greenwich, Connecticut, of people who spend their time in the City worrying about where they parked the Jaguar. The family members are estranged twin brothers, a daughter, and their friend's son.
The play opens with a direct address to the audience by twenty-five-year-old Delia Glimmer. She does marketing for the family business, Glimmer Scarves. Her glossy, controlled life brushes with the rumpled, random ways of trombonist Jordan Shine at a wedding, over a spilled drink. As she recounts their meeting, Jordan tells it to Martin Glimmer, who could pass as homeless if he weren't propped up on his own plaid couch amidst soda cans, cigarette ashes, and dirty clothing. Their stories weave into a brief flashback dialogue, solos becoming a duet. Martin is Delia's uncle, fraternal twin to her dad, Danny. But she knows her father as Daniel, not a trumpet player nor someone with a brother. As she pieces the family tree together and discovers what it meant to be a jazz musician in the fifties, so does the audience.
Although Delia and Jordan's chance encounter initiates their discoveries, Martin's lapse into a coma precipitates the opportunity for reconciliation. Martin considers Jordan to be his next-of-kin, a responsibility both Jordan and then Daniel hesitate to accept. Leight's theatricality and sense of humor provide moving yet amusing scenes for Martin. Delia and Jordan stand at his hospital bed, but they're addressing an empty gurney. Unseen by them, Dennis Parlato as Martin stumbles onstage in a hospital gown, dangling a cigarette in one hand and, with the other, wheeling an IV pole in an awkward dance. His monologue is a solo, riffing on life and death with insight and wit as he comments on their visit and mocks his situation at "Our Lady of Perpetual Invoice."
Leight unfolds his characters' mysteries through storytelling rather than staging flashbacks as he did in "Side Man". We still get a powerful picture of past circumstances and emotions. Since the truth has been hidden from Delia and ignored by Daniel for so long, the facts emerge bit by bit from Martin and Jordan's perspective. Leight does not fall into the trap of predictability, although he gives clues as to what might happen. Releasing the past affects the present and future in unknown ways.
Brian c. Mehring's set captures the extreme differences between the brothers' lives. Martin's home in Greenwich is represented by an overstuffed leather chair and antique side table, and his business's Manhattan apartment is tidy, not lived in. Across the stage, Martin's Bronx sixth-floor walk-up is a time capsule, except that life's detritus continues to accumulate on the furniture and technology of the past. When the brothers cross into each other's worlds, it's like watching Felix and Oscar collide. Leight doesn't judge the brothers, even as he contrasts the effects of their choices. The value lies in the encounter of the two halves, the potential for reconciliation. And, through Delia and Jordan, perhaps even hope for the future.
"Glimmer" has had developmental readings and, reportedly after more tweaking, is bound to the Mark Taper Forum in Los Angeles in December. The Ensemble production showed little to adjust. One uncertain spot occurs at the end. Martin has to pack up and shuffle offstage as his brother leaves a significant telephone message for him. The packing, although done in dim light, distracts from the monologue. Then, as the brothers' scene fades, there is a weighty and long enough moment to suggest that the show is over. Instead, there's an epilogue by Delia and Jordan, presenting a more satisfying (and somewhat open-ended) conclusion.
In a post-show chat with the audience, Meyers said that during the rehearsal process Leight had corresponded via e-mail with her, but he did not work directly with the cast as he wanted to see freshly how the show was interpreted. Meyers wisely cast as the brothers two veterans of new plays, Parlato and Tony Campisi, both from the O'Neill Theater Center's National Playwrights Conference among numerous other companies. Jordan is played by Ean Sheehy, who originated the role in a New York reading, while University of Cincinnati College-Conservatory of Music student Lindsey M. Marlin stands on a par with these actors in the role of Delia.
Parlato's Martin is scruffy and limp as a yard dog. He's a convincing former jazz man, talking in the gruff yet lyrical storytelling of a musician with a memory to go with every new event. As the businessman Daniel, Campisi reflects the tension his brother's presence creates on his own controlled life. But Campisi's abrupt speech, although appropriate for a man who has denied his twin's existence for so many years, sounds more like an actor running out of text than the character unable to finish voicing his thought. Sheehy's Jordan is sincere and appealingly awkward. He balances the treasure of his musical past and extended family with the excitement and confusion of falling in love with Delia. Marlin maintains Delia's cool confidence and high-class tastes while thrilling to discover music and invest in reforming Jordan. Leight doesn't force his characters to change. They evolve emotionally as they acknowledge their relationships and responsibilities despite sharply drawn social lines. Even if you don't admire all of the characters' traits, you still care about these people.
In one scene, Jordan and Delia flip through a scrapbook from the golden years of their parents. Like Los Angeles, 1955, when "Glimmer, Glimmer, and Shine: the glow-in-the-dark trumpet section" played together. In "Side Man", narrator Clifford was a collage artist. Through the play, he cut and paste memories of his parents into a dramatic album of life. I'm sure I'm not the only one who hopes that Leight continues to use playwriting to explore the world and people of jazz, bringing us more theatrical scrapbooks alive with music, humor, and compassion.