Lantern's Novecento

Alessandro Baricco’s allegorical fable of art and reality, set in the 1930s, relates the legend of the world’s greatest jazz pianist, who is born on an ocean liner in 1900 (and named for the new century) and spends his entire life at sea, having concluded that “The land— that’s a ship that’s too big for me.” Here, spared the enormous distractions of the infinite world beyond the gangplank, Danny Novecento creates his own transcendent world within the 88 notes on his keyboard. His story unfolds in a series of flashbacks evoked by his friend and colleague, the trumpet player in the ship’s jazz band (Frank X). Baricco’s script, translated from Italian by Michael Golding, is a riveting example of descriptive language put to the service of vivid imagery; and the skill of Frank X in extending those images through voice, gesture and body language with the aid of nothing more than occasional background music is a wonder to behold. But let theatergoers beware: This 75-minute evening is not a drama but a dramatic monologue. Playwright Barrico and his fictitious pianist share more in common than they might suspect: Just as ship-bound Danny Novecento insulates himself from the unpredictable vast world on shore, so Baricco’s script insulates his sole performer from the ultimate essence of drama: the need to relate to other actors.— DAN ROTTENBERG