A NIGHT IN MADRID
On a day in a February, shortly after the coincidence of Ash Wednesday and Valentine’s Day, the holy and the insane, I attended a performance of Street Scene with book by Elmer Rice and music by Kurt Weil, Langton Hughes, lyrics. I sat under the baroque garlands of the box seats in the Teatro Real, before me a stage setting that represented a tenement on the lower East Side, shades of David Belasco, the set both naturalistic and expressionistic. It resembled cages or cates piled on top of one another. A tale is told of, Jews, Irish and Italians in depression era New York City. I won’t rehearse the plot. What is the plural of immigrant Irish, my native tribe? In this same historical period was I conceived. Destiny dealt a desperate and hopeless hand then to mothers and fathers, adolescent children and young children alike. In the denouement, Rose is unable to leave the scene of the tragic murder of her mother and the arrest of her father, who had murdered his wife in a jealous, alcoholic rage. The character of Frank Maurrant is a larger-than-life sized bully, a suitable admonishment for bullish men today in an age like ours. The choral finale spoke to his love for the woman he had murdered, inescapable social realism of a Marxist bent, with incidental comic tableaus, where the genius of Hughes takes on the rhythms of hop-scotch and other sidewalk games. All philosophy is articulated at the level of the comic strips. Ignorance oppresses those with generous hearts. Street Scene presents a social realism that feeds on the failure of the American Dream. And yet one is compelled to cry. What can be said about the grand choral offered near the conclusion? “He loved her.” The melodrama brought tears to my eyes. I’m such a softy! For me an esthetic problem of interest lay in teaching the different idioms of immigrant NYC around 1940 to a cast whose English seemed largely attuned to the standards of the British Royal Academy, but then stereotype is comical, possibly intentionally so, low relief for those who identify with poverty and desperation. What an undertaking the show was! A cast of hundreds and plot lines at cross purposes. “Heterogeneous” is a relevant descriptor. It's time for a Broadway revival!