The Piano Lesson

It all started on the platform of the uptown 18th Street 1 train. I saw a poster for The Piano Lesson that made me pause for a moment. That guy looked just like...and then the train came and I boarded.

Eddie, Chuck, and sister/daughter Lilly

Several days later, I had some friends over for dinner, and out of nowhere Eddie exclaimed, "Beth, my dad's in The Piano Lesson! You have to see it-you'll love it. I think it's one of the best things I've ever seen him do." The pieces came together. That had been Chuck Cooper on that poster. I've seen Eddie and his siblings perform countless times and heard all about their legendary, Tony-winning father. I'd spent an evening with Chuck when Eddie invited us over to the house for a barbecue (an event that I assumed would be a large gathering but turned out to be just the family, Ed, our friend Zac, and me). But I'd never seen him on the boards, and I eagerly bought tickets, opting for "best available." I'd been meaning to read The Piano Lesson for ages, but I figured seeing it was even better.

Ed and I had a quick dinner at on of our favorite neighborhood restaurants before the show. Our waiter, hearing that we were off to see The Piano Lesson, gushed, "Ooooh! I heard that's soooo good!" in the way that only a gay waiter in Chelsea can. My excitement built.

The venue, the brand new Signature Theater in Hell's Kitchen, was clean, shiny, and open, and the light wood made the place feel comfortable. Ed and I entered a cafe area to the sound of live jazz and patrons clinking glasses and chewing pre-show fare. As we walked toward the theater, I realized with surprise that we were to be seated in Row A! Right next to the stage! In fact, perhaps a little too close to the stage... Yikes. "You have to sit on your coat," an older man next to us joked. Sure enough, the edge of the stage was just about eye level, and since the kitchen area-right next to us-was a step higher than the rest of the stage, it was a bit tough to see everything. Well, I reasoned, it would be OK if I didn't get to see the actors' feet. From what I could see of it, the setting was incredible. It looked like a real house, with dishes and jars of pickled eggs and other preserves in the kitchen cabinets, a sink that turned out to actually work, and closets that contained clothes and blankets when the characters opened them up through the course of the play.

My view of the edge of, and part of the top of, the stage. (Sorry about the exposure-it was dark in there.)

The play was fantastic. The acting was absolutely superb, and being close enough to reach out and touch the actors' hems if I'd wanted to meant that I didn't miss a single facial expression or drop of sweat. The biased theater critic in my felt that Chuck's performance as Wining Boy outshone everyone else's, but objectively it's hard to say who fit their role best. (The New York Times review of the play said that "Chuck Cooper has landed perhaps the finest role in his already distinguished career," so it's not just me.) One of my favorite things about the play were the musical numbers. This is not a musical by any means, but there were several scenes in which the men would burst into song while sitting around drinking whiskey, and twice Chuck took to the piano bench, once to perform a lively boogie-woogie song and once to pound out a wrenching blues tribute he wrote for the deceased love of his life. (View it here.) We saw more vocal talent on that stage than in the whole of the $60-something million Les Miserables, that's for sure.

Chuck plays boogie-woogie while Lyman looks on approvingly

Ed said, and I agree, that the play sort of lost us at the end. This was not the fault of the players or the director but rather the script - things come to a sudden and extremely dramatic head and then, all too abruptly, the play is over. I felt a bit like a philistine for having this opinion-after all, August Wilson is supposed to be resoundingly appreciated, right?-but the NY Times reviewer echoed my opinion, making me feel better.

Despite this, and despite missing some of the action here and there when an actor would wander around a corner obstructed from our view, Ed and I both enjoyed the play immensely. And we were not alone - the audience gave a standing ovation and the place was buzzing with praise for the show as we filed slowly back into the lobby after it was all over. It's a very strange feeling to have sat at a dinner table with Wining Boy a few months back and to know him instead in the role that he listed in the program as his all-time favorite: "Eddie, Alex, and Lilly's father."