Theatre in Review: The Pianist of Willesden Lane (59E59)

	Mona Golabek. Photo: Carol Rosegg

The story of Lisa Jura is a unique and often startling one, and Mona Golabek is uniquely qualified to tell it -- and not just because she is Jura's daughter. An accomplished concert pianist, Golabek is also a confident stage presence with more-than-passable acting skills, all of which she needs for a production that combines passages from the works of Grieg, Bach, Debussy, and others with a gripping World War II-era narrative filled with terrible reversals of fortune and unexpected moments of grace.

Golabek takes on Jura's persona, telling the story of a childhood and adolescence made tumultuous by the displacements of wartime. At first, the experience of seeing the middle-aged Golabek speak to us in the voice of a 12-year-old is a little grating, especially as her opening speeches are rather awkwardly interwoven with excerpts from the first movement of Grieg's Piano Concerto in A Minor. But the actress proves to be surprisingly free of mannerisms; she understands that her mother's story is sufficiently astounding to need no embellishment. A clear, simple recital of the facts is all that is needed to keep us spellbound.

Lisa Jura, daughter of a Jewish tailor and a housewife, grew up in Vienna and displayed a talent for the piano at an early age. She was 12 when she first noticed that something was wrong in the world outside her loving family circle: Arriving one day for her piano lesson, she is interrogated by a Nazi soldier outside the building where her teacher lives. Even worse than this unnerving experience is the announcement that her teacher is dropping her because of a new law that makes it illegal to teach Jews.

Meanwhile, back at home, the Jura family slides into poverty as her father's customers fade away. Their uncertain situation comes to a head on Kristallnacht, when Lisa's father, who has taken up gambling in a desperate bid to make money, returns home beaten and missing his overcoat but clutching a greater prize won in a card game: a voucher for passage for a single child on the Kindertransport. The only problem: The Juras have three children. After a hushed conference, Lisa is selected to go to London, where she will live with her father's cousin. The family keeps up the fiction that this is only a temporary measure until she is put on the train departing from Berlin; it is only then that she opens a package given to her at the last moment: a photograph of her mother inscribed on the back, "From the mother who will never forget you."

As it happens, Lisa's troubles are just beginning. Arriving in London, she learns that her relative has no room for her. After some Dickensian adventures (including a brief, unhappy spell as a seamstress in a stately home), she ends up in a group home occupied by 30 other refugee youths. Happily, there is a piano in the basement; each time the air raid sirens sound, instead of fleeing into the nearby bomb shelter like the others, she heads downstairs, playing loudly to drown out the sound of falling bombs. During one of these macabre practice sessions, the house takes a direct hit.

There is much more to Jura's story, but I don't want to spoil the experience for anyone. Suffice to say that Golabek holds us in her grip as Lisa matures into a driven, hard-working adolescent and, later, into a mature young woman capable of turning soldiers' heads. I will add that, owing to a number of twists and turns, she resumes her musical studies, climaxing in a debut concert that is packed with revelations, followed by a coda that takes the story into the next generation.

Possibly because Golabek isn't primarily an actress, she assiduously avoids big emotions, an approach that proves to be especially fruitful; the more she underplays Jura's story, the more powerful each unforeseen event becomes; more than once at the performance I attended, the audience gasped at the betrayals and setbacks that shape her story. She lends a deep sense of reality to scenes in which Jura gapes frantically out of a train window, looking for the family she left behind, or when she plays the piano at night in her employer's mansion, her fingers floating above the keys so as not to wake anyone up. She brings equal conviction to her depiction of the garment factory where Lisa works and to the concert, featuring Dame Myra Hess, that brings unexpected light to Lisa's grim daily life.

In contrast, Golabek endows the musical selections with intense emotion, showing us how deeply Jura sublimated her feelings to her art. The music works in other ways, as well; one of the most chilling sequences features a delicate rendition of "Clair de Lune" contrasted with video images of children being separated from their parents and Jews being mistreated in the streets of Vienna. The Grieg piece provides a kind of through line; it is bookended by its first and third movements, and Jura's mastery of its highly dramatic melodic line is a kind of parallel to her own growing up.

Credit should go also to Hershey Felder, who adapted the text from a book by Golabek and Lee Cohen (The Children of Willesden Lane: Beyond the Kindertransport: A Memoir of Music, Love, and Survival). His restrained handling of Jura's story only adds to its power, as does his deft direction of Golabek. Felder also co-designed the set, with Trevor Hay; it places Golabek's Steinway on a platform, backed by four picture frames holding projection screens. The palette is black and gold; a gilded array of flora on the perimeter of the playing area suggests a kind of proscenium. Christopher Rynne's lighting includes a variety of subtle chiaroscuro effects that add depth to the stage picture and also highlight the feeling of The Pianist of Willesden Lane as a memory play. Erik Carstensen's sound design includes the orchestral section of the Grieg concerto and such key effects as train whistles, air raid sirens, and one really upsetting explosion; the projections, designed by Andrew Wilder and Greg Sowizdrzal, include still and video images of Vienna streets, London train stations, and photos of Jura's family. Jaclyn Maduff dresses Golabek in a simple, attractive manner.

The Pianist of Willesden Lane is also a powerful reminder that, in the midst of such a catastrophic event, each person's story is extraordinary. You may feel you've heard all you need to know about the war and the Kindertransport. (Last season's Becoming Dr. Ruth treated the topic in some detail.) By the time she was 21, Lisa Jura had undergone more wrenching experiences than many people experience in a lifetime. In the end, her musical talent saved her from disaster; indeed, it helped her to thrive. That she was able to transmit that talent to her daughter may be her greatest triumph.--David Barbour