Master Builder
A play about Frank Lloyd Wright, one of the most influential architects in history, could have been about fabulous set pieces — with the biography dribbled out as an afterthought. But Eric Simonson and Jeffrey Hatcher’s Work Song: Three Views of Frank Lloyd Wright takes the high road, and it’s no house of cards.
For the Missouri Repertory Theatre’s production, Kent Dorsey’s set is obviously as important as the fine actors and the overall design, made up of Karin Kopischke’s costumes, Barry G. Funderburg’s sound and Jennifer Martin’s choreography. (At several points, the ensemble charged with moving the wheeled set pieces dances with the objects in beautiful duets of flesh and wood.) Wright’s signature Prairie Style has so many attributes — and derivatives — that Dorsey could have been distracted by all the possibilities. He settled on a theme, however, melding triangles, stones and striated wood. Lovely as it is, it never trumps the story.
At the beginning, the audience sees the words “form and function are one” projected high above the stage — and the phrase describes Wright’s work and persona alike. He was a diminutive son of a bitch — an egomaniacal visionary (two traits that can work together and create art) who was so enamored with himself that when someone agreed with him, he thought he was being mocked. He went through wives and friends like drafting pencils; many were mesmerized by him, but no less than Wright was of himself.
Lee E. Ernst plays him with the right amounts of hubris and charm. Benjamin Stewart is amusing as the notorious drama critic and “New York fairy” Alexander Woollcott. Also noteworthy are Mark Robbins as Louis Sullivan, Wright’s first boss; Kate Goehring as Wright’s doomed mistress Mamah Cheney and as Ayn Rand; and John Hoogenakker as Wright’s estranged son. Wendy Robie’s effective work gets blurred by a disconcerting bit of casting: She’s Wright’s mother as well as his third wife. Sean Dougherty, however, makes an impression in roles that are always in Wright’s shadow — but who wasn’t? Wright surrounded himself only with people content to bask in his genius.
Co-author Simonson directs Work Song and, like Wright, probably doesn’t want any other craftsmen to touch it — which is perfectly fine when it results in something as unforgettable as the end of the first act. Leon Addison Brown, playin the Wrights’ butler from Barbados, reenacts in monologue the night he sets their home on fire and, vengefully perched outside the only entrance he didn’t lock, takes to the fleeing guests with an ax. The moment is at once frightening and compelling — perhaps as brilliant as you’ll see on a Kansas City stage this season.
