“Night Side Songs” is in part an original musical that tells the story of the terminal illness of a character named Yasmine Holly (portrayed by Brooke Ishibashi.) But it’s also a “kaleidoscope of theatrical experiments” to see illness in general, as the five cast members take turns explaining to us upfront. They tell us the show is “informed by conversations with nurses, doctors, patients, and caregivers,” and they recite a passage from Susan Sontag’s 1978 book “Illness as Metaphor” from which the show gets its title: “Illness is the night side of life,” Sontag wrote; we have passports to both “the kingdom of the well and the kingdom of the sick,” and if we of course prefer the good passport, “sooner or later, each of us is obliged, at least for a spell, to identify ourselves as citizens of that other place.” The score by the Lazours is full of lovely folk songs (see video of Robin de Jesús singing “Miracle Song” below); some of the theatrical experiments are intriguing. But I couldn’t help thinking that the kaleidoscopic quality of “Night Side Songs” dilutes its impact, and – to extend Sontag’s metaphor — turns us into tourists.
The story of Yasmine and the ups and down of her illness and her care unfold through the years (including for some reason into the year 2035), with the other cast members providing narration, or dropping in to portray the characters in her life – her mother Desiree (Mary Testa), her doctor, whom she coincidentally knew (and kissed) in middle school (Robin de Jesús); Frank, the man she winds up marrying “in her sickness, in his health” (Jonathan Raviv); her night nurse Isaac (Kris Saint-Louis.) It need be said that these are talented actors and good singers, and they make these scenes charming, funny or moving.
But these scenes alternate with “short excursions to different times and places” (as they explained up front) with each of these actors also portraying other characters. One such scene is an argument taking place among doctors in 1962 over the then-pioneering use of chemotherapy. There are a series of exchanges overheard between strangers discussing somebody’s diagnosis, and looking for a reason for it:
Was it the Diet Coke, the line a coke, the join you smoked, the drink with friends?
The weekend bender in the twenty-tens?
Patrick Lazour and Daniel Lazour, the brother songwriting team who call themselves The Lazours, have composed twelve songs for their show. Eight of them have a choral part for the audience; the cast members hand out a booklet with our parts, and Robin de Jesús serves as our choral director for the refrains, while one or more of the other cast members sing the verses, accompanied by Kris Saint-Louis on guitar and Alex Bechtel on piano.
Most of the songs have generic lyrics. This doesn’t necessarily make them less powerful. It was terribly moving to sing, over and over again (after Yasmine learns of the results of a biopsy)
Sometimes you don’t know
Sometimes you just know
Either way you gotta keep it together
And devastating to be led in three-part harmony for the final song, entitled “Will You Let Me Know” which includes the line “Fighting for you my life”
The Lazours are tapping into something that organized religions has acknowledged for thousands of years: Singing together helps us heal.
But added to the generic lyrics is an informal staging by director Taibi Magar. There isn’t much of a set, nor well-defined playing spaces and the actors move around the stage as if at a gathering. They seem to be asked to play themselves when not explicitly portraying characters, and they are given lines that inform us of the creative team’s research.
At a climactic moment, Yasmine turns into Ishibashi (or at least, into not-Yasmine) and says: The writers of this show talked to a doctor, Susan Block, who is a palliative care specialist in Boston and she said at the end maybe people should come away from your show with the feeling that we get through it together which is cliche and yet here we are singing together, singing for the sick and singing for those caring for the sick.”
This is certainly earnest, maybe enlightening, but odd and off-putting that they’re quoting an expert telling us how we should feel. The result is a kind of distancing that makes Yasmine Holly come off like a case study. It’s as if the Lazours and Magar couldn’t decide between an overview of the health care system like Anna Deavere Smith’s “Let Me Down Easy” or a drama about one person’s illness, such as Margaret Edson’s “Wit”
Night Side Songs
Lincoln Center’s LCT3 through March 29
Running time: 95 minutes no intermission
Tickets: $38.50
Written by The Lazours
Directed by Taibi Magar
Music direction by Alex Bechtel, set design by Matt Saunders, costume design by Jason Goodwin, lighting design by Amith Chandrashaker, sound design by Justin Stasiw,
Cast: Robin de Jesús as ‘Player 2, Dr. Verlaine,’ Brooke Ishibashi as ‘Player 4, Yasmine,’ Jonathan Raviv as ‘Player 3, Frank,’ Kris Saint-Louis as ‘Player 1, Nurse Isaac.’ and Mary Testa as ‘ Player 5, Desirée.’
