With a joyous jingle of bells, the Irish Repertory Theatre entreats us to merrily remember a festive refrain: it’s Christmastime in the City. A quaint ode to heart in the hearth, Irish Rep presents on the Francis J. Greenburger Mainstage their oft-adored “A Child’s Christmas in Wales,” directed and adapted by Charlotte Moore, celebrating the production’s sixth appearance in the theatre, playing through Dec. 31.
The evening’s musical event—a duet of shivering poetic recitation and ageless song, trilling from a starry choir—gifted this audience with the thrill of hope, and regaled with tales of true innocence, love and togetherness.
As an adaptation of the Dylan Thomas story, an ethereal recollection of a youth’s Christmas day on the Welsh seaside, “A Child’s Christmas in Wales” ties the theatrical timbre of Thomas’s prose properly to the stage, and draped with ballads of yore, by a caroling ensemble of six who happen to touch upon the beauty of distant feelings untarnished by time.
This year’s production is a simple virtuosic classic, a pleasant etude of entertainment that will be stirring to everyone in the audience (even the mouse), and awaken the child inside for all.
Without further ambiguity, from the instant the audience is seated, there is a certain swaddling from the start in the theatre’s charming atmosphere, as this production quite genuinely sets the stage for the delights of Christmas day.
On a tree-bejeweled stage (scenic design by John Lee Beatty and lighting design by Michael Gottlieb) ornamented with holly and tinsel, gleaming with lights, golden chairs and a shiny Steinway; as actors trudge forth through imaginary, snow-fallen streets, elegantly adorned in gowns and suits (costume by David Toser) of red, green, and grey, singing gaily with brass chimes in hand—the night is quintessentially Christmas. The playbill is complete with an index of Welsh verbiage, and a sing-along to the show’s thematic number, “Take My Hand,” written by Charlotte Moore. The only way brownie points would’ve been scored is if each seat came pared with complimentary candy canes and plum pudding. No scrooges need apply.
While one might suspect a musical variation of this play to sleep in the musical arrangement’s heavenly peace—a score of over twenty songs—all ye faithful Dylan Thomas apostles may triumphantly come see the show, as this production does not slumber on the fabled poet’s words.
The production’s company, a perfectly pieced-together family in both harmony and casting, found the wit, humour, and magic of Thomas’s memories with such lively wonder. Performed by Ali Ewoldt, Jay Aubrey Jones, Kerry Conte, Dan Macke, Kylie Kuioka, and Ashley Robinson, this ensemble each and entirely enrich the spirit of the uncanny Welsh writing, already poised for dramatic purpose, and breathe deep meaning for us into these long-ago words, like a ghost of ourselves coming alive in our souls. Sweetest of all, this ensemble gives an inseparable connection to one another, and conveys what “A Child’s Christmas in Wales” most intends: when the frost of the present melts away into the memory of being in a moment…somewhere, at home.
In the role of young Dylan, Dan Macke imbues the epitome of childhood; a persnickety rascal, bounding with grace, agility and nuance between candid and profound. As the roles of father and mother, Ashley Robinson and Kerry Conte have especially moving performances, with their monologues of contrasting experience in reflection of the past so exceptionally recited and tenderly intimated.
And yet, bar none, the music of “A Child’s Christmas in Wales” is as verily insatiable as it is enticing to hear. The compilation of songs (music supervision by John Bell, with music direction by David Hancock Turner) are commendably devised and arranged for the story, which includes Christmas songs, musically-accompanied poems and several Welsh traditional and Welsh-language songs.
The vocal performances, as is typical in a Moore-directed musical, are unsurpassable. The “Carol Medley,” a round of multiple songs, performed by the entire cast, in which each of the ensemble simultaneously intersect each of their songs with the other, is nothing short of an ingenious showcase of mastery. Comical frivols like “Miss Fogarty’s Christmas Cake,” the cheeky “I Don’t Want a Lot for Christmas” and “Aunts and Uncles Come to Dinner” brought some necessarily familiar chuckles to the audience.
Jay Aubrey Jones ascends with his doleful tremolo in “In the Bleak Midwinter,” which he sings superlatively as a rich aria of redemption. Ali Ewoldt, whose voice and performances are as rare as ruby, gives her solo of “O Holy Night,” which is undoubtedly to be the greatest of the holiday season.
Under the direction of Charlotte Moore, this production has all the hallmarks of Moore at her finest hour: a helping of camp and spoonfuls of sincerity. As we go dashing through the irreligious Swansea snow, Moore implores us to consider our lives, our family and others one in all, to take stock of what we have while we have it, and, just maybe, count our blessings, with those who are near to us.
The achievement of Charlotte Moore is that she has done what she always does best—remember us to the better angels of our nature; that on each Christmas, to hold our loved ones dear, to cherish them, and beget goodwill to all, stranger or fellow.
Go gently into that night divine, and to all, a good night.
For tickets, visit irishrep.org
