Spinning Tree’s Theatre’s Violet: a young outcast’s musical awakening
It’s 1964 when a young woman sets off on a long road trip — a pilgrimage, she calls it. We go along as the play named for its title character recounts that journey. As travel often teaches us, the excursion is at least as important as the destination. Spinning Tree Theatre’s Violet bears that out — it’s a trip well worth taking, for its heroine and for us.
Based on Doris Betts’ story “The Ugliest Pilgrim,” Violet was first staged off-Broadway in 1997. The musical, by Brian Crawley (lyrics and book) and Jeanine Tesori (music, a mix of country, blues and gospel), debuted on Broadway just this year. Spinning Tree founders Michael Grayman and Andy Parkhurst together directed and choreographed this local rendition, and their expertise is evident in the show’s production values and outstanding cast.
Act 1’s rousing “On My Way” introduces the individual talents making up the show, their voices and harmonies melding into a powerful chorus. A cross-country bus — a cheaper and more common mode of travel back in the age of Greyhound and fewer frequent flyers — takes Violet (Lauren Braton) from North Carolina to Tulsa, Oklahoma, where she eagerly seeks a faith healer. She and the other passengers settle in for the long haul. The extended gaps between rest stops heighten their anticipation, not only for decent diners down the road but also for what lies ahead, and in that spirit they make connections with one another to pass the time.
In re-enacted memories, we share Violet’s recollection of the ax accident that left her with a disfiguring scar on her face. (Devyn Trondson makes a strong impression as the younger Violet.) She’s banking her hopes on a TV evangelist (Damian Blake) who she’s sure can make the scar disappear. In this hope, she is naïve but not stupid — Braton makes her Violet a self-aware, layered young woman of 25 who has borne the brunt of others’ taunts and shudders, and knows her place on any social circle’s periphery. The actress’s mellifluent voice adds depth to her performance and keeps our focus on Violet and her inner life.
Two young soldiers who befriend Violet on the bus are key players in the character’s story and in her ultimate transformation. Daniel Beeman is note-perfect in his portrayal of Monty, a wannabe warrior with the carefree energy of a private on leave. And as a black sergeant dealing with early-1960s racism, Matthew King makes an impact as Monty’s friend Flick; his singing is a nearly spiritual experience in itself, adding resonance to the character and pulling us in. In the solo “Let It Sing,” he reaches out to Violet in a way that only his character, also an outsider, can.
Standout performances are many here, with able actors taking on multiple roles. As Violet’s farmer father, Tim Ahlenius is heartfelt as a man who watches over her yet can’t apologize for something he didn’t mean to do. Bob Linebarger slips in and out of several supporting roles that range from the serious to the very amusing. Julie Shaw lends her skill to an old woman on the bus, then becomes a hotel hooker when the show’s primary trio stays over in Memphis. Also fine is Linnaia McKenzie, who draws our eyes as a bus passenger, a landlady and a member of the preacher’s choir.
Members of that choir, practicing their “act” for broadcast with a humorous “Raise Me Up,” are decked out in bright-gold robes that could only be designated for the business of prime-time evangelism. Front and center here is Damian Blake (who appears in two other small roles), who makes his outsized preacher memorable without falling into caricature. His clothing, too, boasts the augmented flamboyance of a celebrity reverend, the kind of figure who can disappoint only the most hopeful. (Costume designer Gary Campbell captures the styles of 1960s civilian and military garb with equal care.)
The backbone of this musical is a superlative band assembled by Spinning Tree. Angie Benson, who frequently accompanies local productions, again excels as musical director. Accompanying her keyboard are Brian Wilson on bass, Erik Voeks and Joe Levens on guitar, and Kyle Brown on percussion. Though behind a scrim at the back of the stage for most of the show, the musicians command our notice, and their work stays in mind well after final bows.
Clever staging, including occasional video projections, provides ample imagery for the show’s simple set, and efficient and swift transitions keep the pace moving (despite a long first act). Violet‘s second part delves deeper as we wonder what will become of this woman who has placed so much in the preacher’s hands.
But in getting away from small Spruce Pine, North Carolina, to enter a larger sphere that affords her new associations and influences, Violet undergoes a different kind of miracle. It’s one for which only this journey — here given a touching and vibrant telling — could have prepared her.
