The Jonathan Larson Project

A treasure trove of five-star songs

For those who do not know, The Jonathan Larson Project is more of a musical revue or showcase than a conventional musical with a narrative. Conceived by theatre historian Jennifer Ashley Tepper, it brings together rarely heard songs from the archives of Jonathan Larson, the groundbreaking composer behind Rent and tick, tick… BOOM! The collection includes material cut from those shows, songs from unproduced projects such as Superbia and 1984, and pieces originally written for cabarets, revues and radio.

The project was first presented as a concert at New York’s 54 Below in October 2018, before being developed into an Off-Broadway production. This European premiere marks 30 years since Larson’s death in January 1996, aged just 35. Tragically, he died from an aortic dissection on the eve of Rent’s first Off-Broadway performance, never knowing the enormous impact his work would have.

For that reason, this is not quite the show audiences might expect. Without a continuous story or recurring characters, each number has to establish its own world before quickly making way for the next. However, while these may not be the familiar hits people arrive expecting to hear, there is no question that the collection contains some five-star songs. It offers a fascinating glimpse into Larson’s creative process, revealing both the range of his writing and how many ideas were still waiting to be explored.

Nate Bertone’s set is an amalgamation of a New York loft and warehouse, with exposed brickwork, dust sheets and scaffolding creating an appropriately unfinished atmosphere. The band sits on raised platforms on either side of the stage, while a drape hanging between them is used as a projection screen.

The production is staged in thrust, with the audience seated on two sides. John Simpkins’ direction works particularly well within this configuration, ensuring that the cast performs equally to every part of the auditorium. The opening montage is genuinely emotional, immediately establishing the sense that this is as much a tribute to Larson himself as it is a presentation of his work.

There is also a piano onstage that is repeatedly wheeled around but never actually played. It began to feel like a musical version of Chekhov’s gun: if you place a piano so prominently onstage, surely someone should eventually play it? Even bringing one of the musicians down from the band platform for a single number might have given the instrument a satisfying purpose. The closing use of Larson’s own voice singing “Piano” explains its symbolic importance, but its constant physical movement still creates an expectation that is never quite fulfilled.

It is difficult for me to give an overall assessment of this particular performance because the sound mix caused significant problems with vocal intelligibility. The vocals were heavily masked by the band, with very little presence or separation, causing everything to merge into a flat and muddy mix.

This made listening to the lyrics feel like hard work, which is especially damaging in a showcase built around introducing audiences to unfamiliar material. With no narrative context to fall back on, the words are essential. Too often, the distinctions between Larson’s pop writing and musical-theatre storytelling were lost because neither could be heard clearly enough.

You could see how hard the performers were working to communicate the material. Imelda Warren-Green, in particular, threw herself into “Hosing the Furniture”, giving it flashes of the comedic flair for which many will know her. Yet much of that effort was blocked by the sound. Beyond a few sections in which effects were deliberately added to the microphones, the balance only seemed to settle during the final two or three songs. Even then, it became acceptable rather than exceptional. The fact that the exit music subsequently blasted through the auditorium only emphasised how muted much of the actual performance had sounded.

The cast clearly brought a great deal of heart to the production, but the sound prevented that heart from developing into the passion the material demanded. Some of the movement also felt more gestural than emotionally grounded; the songs frequently describe struggle, activism and frustration, but the staging did not always make that struggle feel fully lived.

Judging a showcase like this is difficult, particularly when technical problems have such a substantial effect upon the experience. Assuming the sound difficulties can be overcome, there is a much stronger show here than I was able to hear on this occasion. Larson’s songs deserve to be discovered, and the production’s warmth, strong visual concept and committed company provide a solid foundation from which to celebrate them.

★★★★

Photos by Danny Kaan