The Market Monitor Minding the Nation's Business
Review by Alvin I. Dacanay
There’s a scene in Red Turnip Theater’s elegant, intellectually engaging production of Moisés Kaufman’s 33 Variations that highlights one of its central themes. In it, the main character, musicologist Katherine Brandt (Shamaine Centenera-Buencamino), discusses transfiguration—not of Christ, she quickly clarifies—as transforming something ordinary into something extraordinary, as improving a banal work and making it sublime. In short, becoming a better version.
This idea of transfiguration—of changing into, or attaining, something better—is so integral to the Tony-nominated play, which weaves Katherine’s consuming mission to uncover Ludwig van Beethoven’s (Teroy Guzman) reasons and artistic decisions in composing his 33 variations—acclaimed by some as among the best of its kind—with the famed German composer’s years-long process in creating them, which began when he agreed to contribute a variation based on a short, unimaginative waltz by music publisher Anton Diabelli (Paolo O’Hara).
That idea is not only integral, but also ironic, for Katherine and Beethoven struggle to complete their respective tasks as they gradually become impaired: she, due to amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, or ALS; he, to deafness.
This adds tension to their relationships with people they regard as inferior: Katherine, with her daughter Clara (Ina Fabregas), a set designer mulling over another career change who becomes involved with Mike (Franco Chan), a sympathetic nurse; Beethoven, with his loyal secretary—and later, biographer—Anton Schindler (Rem Zamora).
These relationships—plus the friendship that Katherine develops with Gertrude (Roselyn Perez), the strict custodian of Beethoven’s papers in Bonn, Germany—help make an otherwise scholarly subject quite accessible to audiences and (re)introduce them to the rarefied world of classical music. That, in itself, should count as a notable achievement.
Happily, that accomplishment is only one of several that distinguish 33 Variations. Another is Kaufman’s terrific plotting; it’s striking how the present seamlessly shifts to the past and vice versa, how scenes unfold or are juxtaposed to good effect, and how these—and the characters’ dialogues—occasionally overlap to reinforce similarities or attain some resonance. Such a dramatic structure is not new to Philippine theater (Nicolas Pichay’s prize-winning Almanac for a Revolution comes to mind), but it’s one that theatergoers should be more exposed to.
These scenes are brought to life under actress Jenny Jamora’s triumphant, award-worthy direction, and what makes it even more so is the fact 33 Variations is her first full-length play as a director. She orchestrates every scene like a seasoned conductor, and in this regard she gets marvelous support from sound designer Teresa Barrozo; lights designer John Batalla; set designer Ed Lacson Jr., who deserves to share praise with Jamora for the enlarged pieces of sheet music showing some of Beethoven’s variations that are posted on the theater’s walls and that magically light up; and composer/musical director Ejay Yatco, whom the director, in an inspired move, designated to perform onstage not just the variations, but also as Beethoven’s mirror image.
Of course, the work put in by Jamora and her creative team would be meaningless without the actors. Newcomers Fabregas and Chan deliver sensitive performances as the young couple—theirs is the only relationship in the play where each treats the other as an equal—with the former adding to her role a vulnerability that contrasts sharply with Katherine’s steely demeanor.
For her part, Perez leaves a strong impression as Gertrude, and it was fascinating to watch her stern and intimidating bearing gradually soften as her friendship with Katherine grows.
Also leaving a solid mark are O’Hara and Zamora, two comic actors who avoid reducing the two Antons—essentially objects of ridicule—to mere caricatures. In what may be seen as their top moment—the scene where Diabelli and Schindler discover the mocking quality in one particular variation—Zamora and especially O’Hara show, to great effect, their characters’ painful realization that, though they may recognize beauty, they lack the talent to create it.
As for Buencamino and Guzman, they offer expertly executed portraits of two different people who, despite being separated by sex, space and time, turn out to be so alike: both are driven, proud and stubborn, even as their bodies start to deteriorate; supremely confident in their abilities; and demanding and/or dismissive of people they consider as mediocre.
Other actors may be tempted to play Brandt and especially Beethoven as very flamboyant, larger-than-life people, but what’s astonishing about Buencamino and Guzman is the relative restraint they exercised in their roles. They don’t overplay their parts and, if one thinks about it, why should they? They understand that such people don’t really need to show off, to be flashy; they let their significant body of work—and their reputation—do that for them.
In the New Testament, Jesus’ transfiguration didn’t last long, yet, it lasted long enough to leave a deep and profound impression on those who witnessed it. Thanks to Jamora, her cast and her creative team, theatergoers may experience something similar in 33 Variations. Many of the characters may not see their appearance radiate like Christ’s did, but they do change for the better—quietly.
Moises Kaufman’s 33 Variations is produced by Red Turnip Theater. It runs until August 23 at Whitespace (2314 Chino Roces Ave. Extension, Makati City). Shows are at 9 p.m. on Fridays, and 3 and 8 p.m. on Saturdays and Sundays. For tickets, visit Ticketworld at www.ticketworld.com.ph.