Bravo! ‘Opus’ plays out like a compelling composition

If you think classical music is filled with drama and passion, just wait ’til you see what it’s like behind the scenes with the musicians themselves.

Like a well-written piece of music, “Opus,” playing at the Florida Repertory Theatre through Jan. 24, possesses drama and tension, humor and harmony. And just like a compelling composition, the play’s recurring themes stick in your mind, replaying themselves over and over, revealing new treasures each time.

“Opus” opens with four musicians — the Lazara Quartet — playing Beethoven’s Opus 130, swaying in their own private ballet as they bow their instruments. (The actors don’t actually play them, nor do they imitate the complex fingerings the music demands; they simply act out bowing the strings. It’s quite effective, and doesn’t seem gimmicky at all.)

This fictional string quartet has won a Grammy for one of its recordings, and when we’re introduced to them, they’re being interviewed for a documentary. As they respond to an unseen/unheard interviewer, their comments overlap, echo one another and follow in quick succession, just as their instruments do when they play. These four are so in sync, they finish each other’s sentences and can predict what another will say.

The cast of “Opus,” from the left; Giles Davies, Chris Clavelli, Tom Nowicki and Rachel Burttram. COURTESY PHOTO Blending theater, music

Playwright Michael Hollinger, who originally studied to be a professional violist and has a degree from Oberlin Conservatory of Music, knows intimately the world of music and the world of theater, and with this play deftly weaves the two together.

The quartet is thrown into chaos when their violist, Dorian (Brendan Powers), suddenly disappears. No one knows where he is, so the remaining three — Elliot (Giles Davies), Alan (Chris Clavelli) and Carl (Tom Nowicki) — audition replacement candidates and choose Grace (Rachel Burttram), a nervous 25-year-old with an ordinary resume but extraordinary talent.

Ms. Burttram is excellent at portraying that naivete that comes with not having much life experience; she plays the role with equal parts eagerness and nervousness. Giddy at the thought of making a life out of making music, she’s eager to please, but nervous because she’s not sure what she’s gotten into with this all-boys club of artists who scuffle and vehemently disagree with each other.

Like brothers, the men fight and argue and joke with each other; they’ve been together so long they have their own shorthand, their own history of references.

Wedded bliss

This ensemble works so well together on stage, you think they really have been performing as a quartet for years and years. (It probably helps that all the actors have performed with one or more of the others before, at Florida Rep.) As Alan quips, “A string quartet is like a marriage, only with more fidelity.”

Mr. Powers, as the passionate Dorian, practically vibrates with energy and excitement every time he’s on stage. The least stable of all the musicians, he’s also the most gifted, the one most in touch with the joy and spirit of music.

Mr. Davies portrays Elliot as prickly and practical, always quick to find fault. He has some great dramatic moments with Mr. Powers, and is especially funny in a scene where he’s clueless as his heterosexual co-musicians enthusiastically discuss the previous night’s baseball game.

Mr. Clavelli, like Mr. Powers, is always interesting in how he recreates himself on stage. In Alan, he gives us a man who’s quirky and philosophical, given to seeing the world with a decidedly different slant than anyone else. And with perfect comedic timing, he effortlessly tosses off one funny line after another. (When Elliot chides him for not practicing the previous night, Alan calmly responds, “I practiced in grad school.”)

Mr. Nowicki, the last member of the quartet, appears to be the group’s anchor as a salt-of-the-earth kind of guy. He perhaps has the most difficult role, playing his emotions close to the vest, rarely revealing his internal struggles.

In tune with words

The playwright Mr. Hollinger obviously loves words and delights in their musicality. His “Opus,” his work, echoes the structure of a quartet, with voices instead of instruments. He gives us dialogues as quartets, trios, duets and solos, the voices overlapping and blending and picking up each other’s lines.

He toys with names, giving us a group that welcomes Grace into its fold and that possesses itself a name that sounds very much like Lazarus, the biblical character who is raised from the dead.

Besides being entertaining, “Opus” examines the difficulty of making art, of creating something that is true, authentic, moving; how do you get out of the way and let the work move through you? (One auditioner is called an automaton who plays the notes, but doesn’t have the feel, while Elliot and Dorian describe performing as losing awareness of who’s who, until there’s just music.)

“Opus” explores the ephemeral nature of performances, and of our lives and our desire for meaning, to do something that will outlast us. It made me think of the Mary Oliver poem that ends, “Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?/Tell me, what is it you plan to do/with your one wild and precious life?”

Maureen Heffernan, who directed previous hits such as “Shirley Valentine,” “Dancing at Lughnasa,” “Doubt” and “Rabbit Hole” at Florida Rep, continues her success with “Opus.”

A bit off key

She did have one bit of curious staging at the beginning, though, in the first scene as the four men are being interviewed individually for the documentary about the quartet. Ms. Heffernan places them on both sides of the stage for a dialogue that’s delivered rapid fire, sometimes only a short sentence or phrase. Not knowing who will speak next, the audience has to turn heads quickly, ping-pong style, to keep up. The scene would have been more effective if the actors had been seated closer to each other and the lighting had been more dramatic.

Opening night was also marred by glitches in the CD that plays the quartet’s music as they practice and perform. The many hiccups and hesitations disturbed the play’s magic and kept breaking its spell.

Ray Recht’s wonderful minimalist set is a curved, wooden raked platform suggesting the shape of viola, complete with a fingerboard, tailpiece and chin rest. Simple arches on either side suggest doorways. In the background, a screen, bookended with two f-holes, displays part of Beethoven’s Opus 131 as he penned it: a calligraphic delight with Cy Twombly-esque lines. And on either side of the stage, light boxes, with more of Beethoven’s composition inked on them.

“Opus” is an exquisite, well-played production with the power to both delight and move us. Bravo! 

If you go

>> What: “Opus” >> When: through Jan. 24 >> Where: Florida Repertory Theatre, 2267 Bay St., in the historic Arcade Theatre in downtown Fort Myers, between Hendry and Jackson >> Cost: $42 and $38 >> Info: Call 332-4488 or www.floridarep.org