Although their new production
School Pictures wasn't developed at or created by Theater Latte Da, it fights right in with the kind of music-theater they're known for: forward-thinking boundary-pushing work that explores and expands the idea of what music-theater can be and do. In a note in the program, Artistic Director Justin Lucero wrote, "I knew that my very first season of programming needed to include something that didn't fit neatly in the traditional musical theater mold. Or ideally, blow the mold right open." Mission accomplished. Playwright/ composer/ lyricist/ performer Milo Cramer recently performed
School Pictures Off-Broadway to rave reviews (and an Obie Award), and we're so fortunate that Latte Da brought him here to do the show at the Ritz Theater in this cold, snowy February. It's something so smart, so funny, so original, so tragic, and so very relevant. If you're interested in a different kind of musical that'll make you laugh, think, and feel, that's engaging and entertaining and surprising, that's only 75 minutes long - do not miss this show (
continuing through March 2).
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| Milo Cramer (photo by Dan Norman) |
Milo walks on stage with the house lights still up and with no preamble, begins singing the first song. A long bulletin board that spans almost the entire width of the otherwise bare stage has large squares of colored paper with a single name on each one tacked to it. He sings each of the ten songs about children he tutored, and then removes the paper with their name on it (in different and amusing ways). While the house lights do eventually go down, he continues to look at the audience directly, engaging with us, even reassuring a patron it was OK when their phone rang (note: it's not OK, turn your phones off!). It's a very endearing and disarming performance style. There's no dialogue between songs, nothing to tell us where we are or what's happening, we just jump in and follow Milo willingly. In fact, the only time there's spoken dialogue is during "the big reveal" towards the end of the show, when he turns the bulletin board around to reveal a long chalkboard, and proceeds to explain the very complex NYC school system (complete with math problems!). This is when things get very real. The songs start out cute and amusing, and get increasingly sad or serious
Each of the songs is a little story unto itself about whatever difficulties this particular child is facing, big or small or in between. They're all so real and relatable to anyone who has children or has ever been a kid, with all of the pressures and uncertainties that go along with growing up in this increasingly complicated world. The style of the songs is so unique it's difficult to describe or even comprehend. They're deceptively simple, sort of sing-songy, almost like he's making it up as he goes along. But they're obviously very thoughtfully constructed and low-key brilliant. Milo's use of phrasing and melody and emphasis is unexpected and constantly surprising. This isn't a "oh, what pretty music" kind of show, it's a show that uses music to tell the story in the most effective way.
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| Milo Cramer (photo by Dan Norman) |
The piece is directed by Milo's friend and collaborator Morgan Green, and between the two of them they've created a show that is dynamic and interesting, despite being just one person alone on stage singing a few songs. Whether he's standing still, or sitting on the floor in front of a toy piano or keyboard (shoes removed), or swigging an unknown beverage out of a can, or running back and forth across the long keyboard, or any other kind of thoughtful movements big or small, Milo is completely captivating.
Most of the songs are quiet, as he sings in his voice and that of the various kids. But occasionally things get loud and rageful, as kids do. Milo accompanies himself mostly with spare ukulele notes, along with a few different keyboard-based instruments on some songs. And I have to credit the sound design, which Theater Latte Da has really figured out in this space. He's miked but it doesn't sound like he is, meaning he sounds natural and unamplified, yet can clearly be heard everywhere in the theater. Maybe they only turn on the mike when he's playing the louder instruments, but it's totally seamless and unobtrusive. The sparseness of the set, completely open to the walls of the historic theater, works well for this show, with just a few set pieces to add interest or spark our imaginations. The lighting design is mostly subtle, with a few dramatic changes for the dramatic kids. (Scenic and costume design by Jean Kim, lighting design b Marcus Dillard, technical director Bethan Reinfeld.)
Milo sings that "people with urgent stories to tell don't have the means to tell stories, and those with the means to tell stories don't have urgent stories to tell." Thank goodness for people like Milo, with the means (and skills) to tell stories, who choose to use those opportunities and skills to tell these very urgent stories about our education system. And once again, a piece of theater written and programmed years ago takes on new meaning in this administration that is threatening to dismantle our education system. Which, as this piece so clearly states, is in desperate need of reform. But the kind of reform it needs is thoughtful data-driven reform that prioritizes the health and wellness of our children and educators, not budget or politics or privilege. But Milo says that much more eloquently and effectively, through unique music-theater performance, than I ever could.
