A musical revival navigates new currents

A potential lightning rod lurks in the first line -- actually, the first few words. No wonder, then, that Signature Theatre Artistic Director Eric Schaeffer, choreographer Karma Camp and a group of African American actors were in a rehearsal room recently, trying out a new approach to the opening of "Show Boat." Jerome Kern and Oscar Hammerstein II's 1927 musical -- one of the milestones of American theater history -- starts performances at Signature on Tuesday.

As a pianist lilted through Kern's score, at an upright near a mirrored wall, the actors walked soberly on; moving in unison, they began to gather the tufts of cotton scattered on the floor. "Squat, grab, up," Camp said, urging the performers to stay in sync.

"Feel that heaviness," said Schaeffer, the show's director, demonstrating the squat.

The actors launched into Hammerstein's lyric: "Colored folks work on de Mississippi/Colored folks work while de white folks play . . . "

Consider that lyricist and book writer Hammerstein's original calls for the N-word, rather than "colored folks" (he substituted the latter for a 1946 revival of the show), and you'll begin to see why this classic has sometimes caused discomfort. Schaeffer and his colleagues are coping with that legacy as they prepare a stripped-to-the-engine-and-recalibrated version of the musical, akin to Signature's 2008 reimagining of "Les Miserables." This "Show Boat" features a new edition of the script and song lineup, and a scale that's daringly cozy, compared with past operatic incarnations.

Rather than a cast of 48 to 72, which Schaeffer says is par for the course in major "Show Boat" stagings, Signature is working with 25 actors. To tailor the score -- beloved for songs like "Ol' Man River" and "Can't Help Lovin' Dat Man" -- for a mere 15 musicians, renowned orchestrator Jonathan Tunick has crafted new orchestrations. As for scenery, forget prow-and-paddle-wheel nostalgia: Signature's "Show Boat" dispenses with literal representation of the eponymous craft.

"This is not going to be the normal 'Show Boat.' This is not going to be the pageant," said Schaeffer, promising, "No women with parasols."

If other theaters go on to produce this scaled-down version, the production could represent a watershed moment in the annals of "Show Boat." Heretofore, staging the musical, derived from Edna Ferber's 1926 novel, has been a prohibitively expensive proposition for some companies.

" 'Show Boat' has gotten bigger and bigger and bigger in theater-budget terms," said Julie Gilbert, who controls the Ferber estate (she's the writer's great-niece). She's enthusiastic about Signature's venture: To keep "Show Boat" on stages, rather than in archives, she said, "you have to make it more portable."

And Signature's makeover may transcend logistics. Schaeffer and Camp predict that their streamlined approach will underscore the more serious themes in the musical, which tells of love and betrayal among three generations of entertainers from the 1880s through 1927. In particular, the production will cast a more unflinching eye on the musical's treatment of race, thereby defusing potential controversy while demonstrating that, in the era of Obama, the motif resonates as powerfully as ever.

"Some people think, " 'Show Boat!" I can't wait to see it! The singing and the dancing! It's such a great, fun show!' " Camp said. Hearing such reactions, she added, she and Schaeffer have been tempted to reply, "Fun? Oh, my gosh, it's actually horrendous what happens in it!"

For instance, "Show Boat" includes an incident in which a star actress, Julie La Verne, loses her job after a spurned admirer reveals that she is of mixed race. Julie later becomes an alcoholic. This episode, written when musicals were better known for giddy comedy and escapist romance than social vision or dramatic substance, was one of the factors that made "Show Boat" a musical theater pioneer.