Opinion: Ode to Working Joe

Featuring what seems like a cast of thousands, the Southampton Players launched an ambitious production of the musical version of Studs Terkel's "Working" last Thursday at Southampton College.

Subtitled "How People Feel About What They Do," Mr. Terkel's book is a collection of interviews with workers from all walks of life, first published in 1974.

That the musical is a Walt Whitmanesque hymn to the millions of laborers who keep America running is acknowledged in the program by a quote from "I Hear America Singing," and in many of the musical numbers.

That it goes beyond Whitman's 19th-century romantic paean to point up the miserable conditions and low self-esteem that demoralize many workers situates it firmly in the '70s, decade of protest marches and demonstrations.

This juxtaposition of sentimentality and reality is very moving.

Nonrecognition

In "All the Livelong Day," the opening number, we see bricklayers, rope-makers, bus drivers, clothes-pressers, supermarket checkers, and floor-moppers all taking pleasure in doing their thing, a la Whitman.

But we also hear from the dying breeds: the assembly-line worker, the farmer, and from fed-up employees in all kinds of dead-end jobs: the non-recognition is getting to them.

"Lovin' Al," about a valet parker (the charismatic Tyrone Hook) who offers "soign‚, service" is a sweet number, as is "Neat to Be a Newsboy," featuring a charming group of kids blissfully unaware of the child labor laws.

"Nobody Tells Me How," starring the authoritative Vay David as a third-grade teacher, and "Just a Housewife," with its four embittered homemakers, are also telling.

Where It's At

Among the most powerful numbers of the evening are "Millwork," starring Ms. David, Laura Flynn, and the company, and the moving "If I Could've Been," with the excellent Ms. Flynn as a frustrated wife and mother.

"What you do is what you are," is one of the evening's themes, and "I'm a fool to let this manufacturer use my body as a tool" one of its epiphanies.

Waitresses and firemen and cleaning women descended from generations of domestic workers sing to us of their lives; journalists and office workers and switchboard operators tell us where it's at.

Making a welcome return to the stage after many years, Richard Koerner brings us a heart-stopping moment as Joe, a retiree, sitting on a park bench, killing time.

In the grand finale the company wraps up the evening with a stirring rendition of "Something to Point To," a cri de coeur for some form of recognition of the fruits of our laborers' labors.

The Empire State Building, for example, should have a plaque bearing their names - who dug the foundation? who did the wiring and the masonry? - so that every worker would have something to point to, a record of his or her unique contribution to a famous landmark.

While a tremendous amount of talent, energy, and rehearsal time obviously went into this complex and often very moving production, Stephen Shaughnessy's musical direction and Michael Disher's direction, choreography, and set design at times go astray.

Acoustic Challenge

One of the evening's chief problems, at least on opening night, was the cast's inaudibility, a difficulty easily remedied since most of the singers were miked.

Another stumbling block is a set that places the performers so far upstage they are acoustically challenged, as it were, by their sheer distance from the house.

The versatile scaffolding that works well visually as construction site, factory, assembly line, and even as the Empire State Building could easily have been farther downstage, offering us better sight as well as better sound.

Even during solos, singers tend to back off when they should move closer to the audience. And during chorus numbers, they not only retreat but even turn their backs to us - a questionable directorial decision in most cases.

Move The Orchestra?

Complicating matters, the small orchestra with its strong percussion is too loud. Placing it upstage on that scaffolding, or even behind it, would not only have been visually exciting, but would also have prevented it from drowning out the cast.

One more tiny point. During the number "It's an Art," the talented Christie Ricapito is choreographed to skip briskly around a restaurant carrying a tray while singing - understandably short of breath - about the art of waitressing.

Again, the audience can't hear the song; it's all that rushing around. As Noel Coward once advised, reversing the old saw to suit the occasion: "Don't just do something, stand there."