'Piano Teacher' about reconnecting with one's past
NEW YORK -- Her story, says Mrs. K, is a small one -- and she could not be more wrong.
Played with astonishing and heartbreaking precision by Tony Award-winning actress Elizabeth Franz, Mrs. K leaves an indelible mark in "The Piano Teacher," the shattering new play by Julia Cho, now on view at off-Broadway's Vineyard Theatre.
We first see Mrs. K sitting in a comfy old chair in her wonderfully detailed living room. There are stacks of books everywhere, busts of Bach, Beethoven, Chopin and a weather-beaten grand piano center stage, covered partly with a shawl and looking rather dusty. The impeccable set design by Derek McLane gives the appearance of being a bit musty; its china hutch, faded oriental rugs and porcelain figurines all create the complete impression of the home of a grandmother or favorite great aunt.
And, looking every inch the sympathetic grandmother with her sensible shoes and chunky cardigan, Mrs. K offers cookies while she tells stories. Franz creates a wholly intimate atmosphere with the audience and she is absolutely riveting as a woman clinging to a meticulously crafted vision of her life; she realizes, but won't acknowledge, many painful truths.
She was an expert pianist, she relates, who became a teacher in this "suburb among suburbs" and has recently decided to get in touch with some of her former students. Her husband, who was much older than she was, died many years ago, and she no longer teaches or plays as she has painful arthritis, just as her mother did.
"It's things like that make me think God really does have a wicked sense of justice," she says. "Why should we lose the only things that make us happy? Why should we experience exactly what it is that we fear most?" These are only a few of the universal questions the tightly written script brings up -- the others are more subtly woven into the action but are no less powerful.
Mrs. K calls many of her old students and reaches one, Mary Fields, who eventually stops by for a visit. Carmen M. Herlihy -- very affecting in this role -- is surprised and confused to hear from Mrs. K and eager to explain why she quit her lessons so abruptly.
The appearance of another former student, Michael, is where the play takes a distinct turn from lovely reminiscence to unsettling menace. John Boyd brings a chilling sense of unease to the part as he forces Mrs. K to reconsider the story that she's been telling herself for more than 30 years.
As astutely directed by Kate Whoriskey, clearly Mrs. K's "small" story is, at its core, the story of society at large -- how do we all "just go on, buying our Ding Dongs, reading our books, watching TV … knowing there is so much sadness in the world."
Maybe, though, just maybe, says Mrs. K, "somewhere out there, even now, one of my former students is playing a song, and there is music ringing in a room and the room is beautiful because of it."