Theater review: A worthwhile ‘Spring Awakening’ at Fresno State loses a bit of its raucous edge but still roars
By Donald Munro
As the Fresno State theater department wraps up the school year, spring – as in the season – is treating “Spring Awakening” – as in the musical – quite well. This week’s transition into hotter temperatures seems perfectly paired with “The Song of Purple Summer,” the play’s compelling and slightly melancholy musical finale: a chill in the morning, a wafting breeze, a sense of increasing heat as the afternoon builds.
Lest we forget, Mother Nature seems to be saying, this show is about embracing sex in all its fecund glory. It’s about the complex (and, frankly, weird) gyrations that all living things go through to procreate, whether it’s bees or humans doing the buzzing.
Pictured above: Tyler James Murphy, center, plays Melchior in “Spring Awakening.” Photo: Fresno State University Theatre
The production, which runs through Saturday, May 11, comes nearly 20 years after its Broadway opening. Steven Sater’s lyrics, including to the song “Totally Fucked,” don’t seem quite as explosive as in 2006. I don’t think any great-grandmothers will be fainting away out of shock. Heck, I don’t think any great-grandmothers today would be surprised to hear those lyrics on network TV. It’s interesting to see how “Spring Awakening” has mellowed with age – and also become more contemplative as it navigates through new cultural waters. Compared to other versions I’ve seen in the last two decades, this one comes across as less angry (and controversial) than before – but also more pensive, perhaps a little less charged.
Which doesn’t make for musical theater that is quite as riveting, at least compared to “Spring Awakenings” that have hooked me in the past. Still, I like the show, and I think that some fine individual performances along with superior sound design elevate the experience for audiences.
Duncan Sheik’s rock score tinged with folk was always a stellar fit for the material, which is based on the 1891 German play by Frank Wedekind. Back then, this account of burgeoning teenage sexuality was extremely hardcore. (Even non-great-grandmas would have been doing more than fainting with its frank discussion of masturbation, intercourse, suicide, homosexuality, abortion and more.) The play was banned, of course. Even when it was revived a century-and-change later – and given a driving beat and obscenity-laden lyrics as a Tony Award winner – it created a stir.
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Many of the same issues explored by Wedekind in his now dusty play are exactly the same today. We’re still hung up on sex. Sure, contemporary teens have a whole lot more information about the reproductive process than their 19th century counterparts. But while we might think of ourselves as more “advanced” than old-fashioned times, our culture can in many ways be just as stumbling and hypocritical about sex.
Key to the story is Wendla, played with a fierce, questing innocence by Chloe Mae Tabor in a standout performance. She ponders where babies come from. Her skittish mother refuses to explain. It turns out other teens in her town are asking similar questions. The only one with the smarts (and audacity) to track down the answers is Melchior (a potent Tyler James Murphy). And yet he – one of the few his age who knows the consequences of intercourse – pushes Wendla into sex.
Related story: SPOTLIGHT INTERVIEW: CHLOE MAE TABOR MAKES THE ROLE OF WENDLA HER OWN IN FRESNO STATE’S ‘SPRING AWAKENING’
Because the show is an all-purpose compendium of teen angst, themes of anxiety and school pressure are a part of the story, too, with the befuddled Moritz (fervently played by Grant Hill with intensity, though he had some issues matching pitch at the performance I attended) falling behind in his classes and worried about graduating. There are scenes here that would be at home in a drama about a Japanese cram school, or maybe a Clovis High psychologist’s office. One of the show’s most melancholy moments comes when Moritz’s father (deftly played by Joel C. Abels, who handles all the adult male roles) has an emotional breakdown. At that moment, as an audience member, you want to shake him by the shoulders and say: “See?”
Director J. Daniel Herring envisions the setting, designed by Dominick Callahan, in a sort of timeless space delineated by chalkboards covered with neatly printed equations and Latin expressions. (Too neat, if you ask me; chalkboards should feel scrawling and temporary, not snapped to a grid on Adobe Express.) That’s just one way the show feels less fierce and rebellious than it could. Sofia Arie James’ costumes have a purple-themed dreaminess that is often lovely but seems a bit too color coordinated. Josh Montgomery’s choreography starts out on the tame side, especially in the early male ensemble numbers. “The Bitch of Living” gets the trademark stamping in, yes, but the let-loose raucousness I’ve always associated with the number seems curiously subdued.
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Vocals are mixed. The women are stronger overall in solo numbers than the men, with Emma Raymond and Mikayla Rockwell offering lovely moments. Murphy’s singing voice is less commanding than his spoken presence. Diego Joseph Sosa and Nico J. DiVicarro, meanwhile, hit some fine acting strides. Amalie Larsen, playing all the adult female roles, is a delight in a whirlwind of roles.
I commend Liz Crifasi and Jorji Brookey’s sound design. The small but mighty pit band, led with finesse by Jordan Williams, was perfectly balanced with the singers at the performance I attended. The instruments never overpowered the singers. That isn’t an easy thing to do. (Just ask the national tour of “Aladdin.”)
I was happy to see more of the rebellious energy I associate with the show come forward in the second act. Montgomery redeems himself with what I think is my favorite version of “Totally Fucked” I’ve seen – raw and fun and pepped up with some cool hand choreography – complemented by Joel Alaniz Ayala’s blaring lighting design.
There are many themes to write about when it comes to “Spring Awakening.” A few years ago, on the occasion of the Selma Arts Center production, I wrote a piece about the positioning of the show against a backdrop of increased societal awareness of sexual harassment and issues like consent. On this most recent viewing, I’m struck once again by how timeless and relevant the show feels. I appreciate Herring’s decision to expose a new generation of students to it.
Steph
Love the “Clovis psychologist office” dig.
I, too, have seen the show oodles. I, too, took some time to settle in. I brought my 21yo nieces and they followed everything really well, called out Ilsa’s presence quickly, and like me, haaated the constant buzz in the front speaker. Can’t fix those things mid-show tho. The off-pitch moments were easily caught, and yes, it’s always hard to find triple threat boys.
Then the second act hit and both the nieces (and I) were much more engrossed. In the first act I was thinking how wonderful it was for students actors to get to work with world class talents like Joel and Amalie.
In the second act I really fell into J. Daniel’s unique and subtle nuances with the “usual stuff” in the show.
Afterwards the nieces looked up songs and discussed the show for quite some time.
But the biggest reason I was thrilled to see the show was to watch the star turn by Ms Tabor. That she’s a freshman is stunning. She’s the next Meg Clark for sure.
I adjusted to the set and the rigidity of the writing and the surrounding size of the chalkboards, tho the projections were too small and bland to convey setting.
Selma’s version was raw and in your face. CMT brought out talent from A-Z. But this does was clearly great for first timers, and an enjoyable thought exercise for us old cronies.
My only real complaint?
The review coming out on closing day.
Steph
Ofc “does” = “show”