Little boy Dennis Michael Hall
Father Stephen Zinnato
Mother Cathy Wydner
Mother’s younger Brother Sam Samuelson
Grandfather Austin Colyer
Coalhouse Walker Jr Lawrence Hamilton
Sarah Lovena Fox
Booker T. Washington Leon Williams
Tateh Jim Corti
Little girl Brook’lyn Carrey
Harry Houdini Todd Jones
Emma Goldman Mary Gutzi
Evelyn Nesbit Jaqueline Bayne

Terrence McNally seems to be putting in a bid to be the Boioto for the late

twentieth century. Not the von Hoffmanstal, although his librettos are made

for major theatrical productions: he’s definitely on the left, works with a

range of collaborators and concentrates on big emotional effects rooted in
the national culture and history rather than on pastel nuances. Ragtime and

Dead Man Walking, currently playing within a few blocks of each other on
opposite sides of the Civic Center, are treatments of big American themes
in human terms that are clearly related. My sense of deja vu during this
performance of Ragtime was triggered by the central interaction between
extreme bitterness and madness, in a male character and in the legal and
judicial system, and earth motherly emotional openness. The score, by
Stephen Flaherty, is less composerly than Jake Heggie’s, and Lynn Ahrens’
lyrics are intelligent Broadway, in contrast to McNally’s verismo
monologues, but the emotional punch is quite similar. Also, both works
somewhat arbitrarily share Irish-American-Catholic characters who are
caricatured far more crudely than any others.

Of course, the scope of Ragtime is substantially different from that of
Dead Man Walking, which depicts a generic event in a generic modern
setting. Ragtime captures a specific moment, the social transition in the
United States in the years 1906-7. It reflects a symbolic single (if
fictional) event, the bitter revenge of the black musician Coalhouse Walker

Jr for damage to his car and his self-respect, and for the murder of his
beloved Sarah as she seeks redress for him. A WASP family, including a boy
who represents the young Doctorow, are involved when they take in Sarah
after she bears Coalhouse’s child; a Lithuanian immigrant and his daughter
cross paths with them in the class struggle, before making it in the
movies. Booker T. Washington and Emma Goldman look on and intervene,
symbolically, Washington trying to avert the explosive climax, Goldman
adding fuel to the flames. A postscript unites the three children in a
Utopian family to be immortalized in the movies, although the first world
war is immediately ahead and we know that they will know more misery as
well as happiness. Events are filtered through popular culture throughout,
inviting an alienated nostalgic perspective, as in O what a lovely war.

There were rare moments in this performance when you were aware that it was

a Saturday matinee in a tour, the odd fluffed entrance or sense of a
performer on autopilot. But they soon went, and served to highlight the
general commitment of the company. Lawrence Hamilton as Coalhouse was
charming, perhaps too introspective once he went over the edge but clearly
engaged and finally very moving as he went to his death assured that his
son was doing well. Lovena Fox as Sarah was tough and vulnerable, a touch
shrill vocally perhaps, but beautiful and also very moving. Cathy Wynder as

the (WASP) mother was suitably patrician and sweet. Jim Cordi as Tateh, the

immigrant who makes it into the movies seemed to coasting in his one
showoff number, but was touching in his quieter first-act number, Gliding,
and in his duet with the mother, and he looked exactly right, handsome and
exotic but in pain.

Mary Gutzi was an Emma Goldman with whom you would not pick a fight. Sam
Samuelson was sweet and passionate but a bit lacking in substance as the
mother’s brother, who is fired by Goldman’s speech in Union Square and
becomes an anarchist. The rest of the large cast produced a fine range of
smaller characterizations. Michael Pearson as the four-year old young
Coalhouse brought the house down in his brief appearance at the end.

The production was smooth, also somewhat similar to Dead Man Walking in the

way it slid the set around the singers. My one complaint was that there
were no explosions.