PCS artistic director Chris Coleman has assembled a version of the musical-theater classic that fully delivers on its promises of thoroughgoing entertainment while also subtly deepening its underlying message about the nature of civil society and the distinctiveness of the American experience.

The singing is gorgeous, by turns charming, poignant and—especially in the goose-bump inducing title song—stirring. The dancing is spirited, whether in the absorbing and dramatic “dream ballet” that closes Act I or in the wild and woolly party scene set to “The Farmer and the Cowman” that opens Act II. And the overall look and feel of the production deftly rides the lines between golden-hued nostalgia and true grit.

Hard work and optimism—the building blocks of a quintessential American character, or at least the requisite combination for carving out a life in the Oklahoma territory—are a big part of the world of this show, and this production introduces those ideals right off the bat. Instead of the common opening image of Aunt Eller churning butter (or the film version’s opening, with the handsome cowboy Curly ride his horse through the corn fields), here the play starts with Rodney Hicks’ Curly stepping out in front of a scrim. He sits down, pours dust from his boots, then begins to sing, thoughtfully, about the world of opportunity open to him: “There’s a bright golden hue on the meadow…”

From that point on, Rodgers’ unassumingly artful melodies carry you away. That opening tune, “Oh, What a Beautiful Morning,” conveys not just a sunny disposition but a depth of appreciation. “The Surrey With the Fringe on the Top” (long a favorite of jazz interpreters for the delightful canter of its rhythm, the light dance of its melody) creates an ideal of comfort to strive for. The rousing title song inspires feelings of togetherness, pride and purpose. As many of the tunes began on Friday, you could hear audience members start humming along—probably unaware they were doing so, but just captivated by the music.

Coleman’s gamble with this production is his choice to re-imagine it as taking place in a all-black community. But if at first the sound of a more Southern-bred, African-American dialect is a noticeable change, any sense of strangeness quickly falls away; we’re just caught up, as always, in the lives of Curly and Laurey and Aunt Eller and the rest, riding down the scenic if sometimes bumpy road to romance, cooperation and progress. It’s a familiar story, delightfully told.

Hicks is particularly engaging, giving Curly an appealing mix of boyishness and earnestness. Brianna Horne similarly blends sweetness and spine as Laurey. Joy Lynn Matthews-Jacobs makes an endearing Aunt Eller, the de facto stateswoman who guides the community’s affairs by guile (nudging Curly and Laurey toward each other), threat (brandishing a gun to stop farmer vs. cowboy fisticuffs at the “box social”) or appeals to compassion and common sense (overruling a judge and a federal marshal at Curly’s tria). Marisha Wallace has a great bit of stage business early on as Ado Annie, packing a box lunch with all the care of a farmhand throwing slop to hogs. Jonathan Raviv gives a nicely understated comic touch to the Persian peddler Ali Hakim.

You’re welcome, of course, to enjoy this or any “Oklahoma!” at face value, as reliable family-friendly entertainment. What make it a true classic, though, are the undergirdings of deeper meanings.
“Soon’ll be livin’ in a brand new state!” Curly sings in the title song, near the end of the show. That line refers to the Oklahoma territory’s impending statehood, but (in a nice pivot on Hammerstein’s part) it also slyly echoes the state of matrimony, in which Curly also is about to live. That linkage of private and public spheres is the key to the structure and meaning of “Oklahoma!,” which can be viewed as a multi-layered examination of what it takes to create a stable union.

We find this theme throughout the story.  Curly is the worthy hero because of his willingness to protect the vulnerable and to restrain his sexual impulses until marriage—a marriage that represents the reconciliation of competing interests (farmers and ranchers). The romantic subplot involving Ado Annie and Will Parker is about the demands of fidelity (or loyalty) and the need to negotiate conflict.

The bigger complications come from outsiders less inclined to sublimate their base desires. Ali Hakim, the foreigner, eventually is compelled to do so and gives up his itinerant ways for a settled life within the community. The troubled farmhand Jud, whose otherness, if you will, is internal, cannot tame his animal passions and therefore cannot be welcomed into the beloved community; only his death resolves the conflict. In the resulting trial (such as it is), the community shows a capacity for both practicality and justice, demonstrating its worthiness to join the full American polity.

And it’s here, at this outer edge of the story, that it becomes clear that Coleman’s casting choice actually does more than give black actors the chance to play romantic leads. Even as the show remains faithful to all the traditional pleasures and virtues of “Oklahoma!,” it adds another subtle layer to the metaphor of union, speaking to the hard work and optimism that helped a community move from slavery to full membership in these United States.

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Then I started doing a little research and concluded that I didn’t even remember the last time I’d seen the musical, let alone its finer plot points or “minor” songs (anything but “Oklahoma!” itself and “O What a Beautiful Morning” for me, though if I strained I could remember a line or two of “Surrey With the Fringe on Top). It would be like seeing a new play, really.

So, finally I settled in for the Main Stage production itself on Friday night in the Gerding Theater at the Armory, and as I should have known from the beginning, it bristled with wit and fine tunes, spot-on singing, crimes of the heart, silly stereotypes and absurd plot enlivened by creative actors, and a generally high level of commitment and energy by everyone involved.

Oscar Hammerstein and “Carmen/Oklahoma”

Part of my “research” involved reading Marty Hughley’s preview in The Oregonian, which was characteristically informative. Read it before you go! But if you link to the story online, you’re going to see something disturbing in the comments section, namely some racist trolling by people who somehow figure that an all-black “Oklahoma!” is somehow “reverse discrimination,” despite the fact that we’ve had thousands of all-white productions since the 1943 Broadway production hit the stage.

Trolls are trolls. Racists are racists. I don’t expect any of them to show up here (and I’ll delete their comments if they do), let alone be persuaded by an actual argument.  But the more I looked into “Oklahoma!” the more laughable their position became. Allow me to elaborate?

In 1943, Oscar Hammerstein II opened two shows on Broadway. The more famous one, “Oklahoma!”, was his first collaboration with Richard Rodgers. For the second one he “collaborated” with Bizet’s great, groundbreaking naturalistic opera “Carmen,” for a musical called “Carmen Jones.”

Maybe you already know what I’m noting here. “Carmen Jones” was set among African Americans during World War II — Carmen is a parachute maker and also a human “heatwave,” according to one of her lovers in the musical, a boxer named Husky.  So Hammerstein was doing in 1943 exactly what Coleman is doing now: Re-setting a familiar story to an unfamiliar setting in order to refresh its story and characters. Except that Hammerstein intervened more drastically, of course.

Let’s push the comparison a bit more: All three stories — Bizet’s and both of Hammerstein’s — are set among ordinary people (by that, I simply mean not among “elites” of any sort) with passions that become extraordinary. Their plots are complicated and melodramatic. The Carmens are tragic, and “Oklahoma!” ends happily, but all three have moments funny, tense and sad. Did I mention violent? Yes, that, too.

So, an African-American “Oklahoma!”. Not such a departure maybe, given the direction of Hammerstein’s own thinking, though I haven’t seen any evidence that Hammerstein ever set foot in the Sooner State or knew anything about the African-American towns in the Territory. Why would he? He probably never set foot in Bizet’s Seville, either, and for all I know, Bizet (a Frenchman) never did, either.

We are talking about imagination here, the imagination of the writer. Or rather, the imagination of the adapter, because both Hammerstein and Bizet based their musical plays on previously written material (the play “Green Go the Lilacs” by Lynn Riggs, who grew up in Oklahoma, and the novella “Carmen” by Prosper Merimee, who had visited Spain).  “Creativity” is an inherently social activity, even though we seem to create in our own heads and with our own hands.

Back to the show, bullet style

Maybe I mentioned that Portland Center Stage has recently mounted a production of “Oklahoma!” — back up top somewhere? Very recently, in fact. A few stray bullet points about what I saw.

The three principals were terrific: Rodney Hicks as Curly, Brianna Horne as Laurey and Joy Lynn Matthews-Jacobs as Aunt Eller. Hicks (whose Broadway credits include “The Scottsboro Boys” and “Rent”) has a fine voice and great energy, and he looks great as a cowboy (costumes by Jeff Cone). Horne projects the youthfulness that makes her initial rebuff of Curly make sense and also her fear of the farmhand Jud. And Matthews-Jacobs provides the moral center of the play and many of the one-liners in an acute performance.

The byplay between Ado Annie and Will Parker never makes a lick of sense to me. Ado Annie is boy crazy (or man hungry, or whatever) to a ridiculous extent and still Will pursues her. To the extent that we remember “Oklahoma!” as “corny” this is a big reason. But, Marisha Wallace and Jarran Muse give it their all and succeed in diverting us (or rather, me) from our natural skepticism.

Jud is a weird, great character (and the song “Pore Jud is Daid” duet is a highlight of the show), inadequately developed by Hammerstein. Why does he stay in the dark smokehouse surrounded by nudie pictures? Or rather, why doesn’t Aunt Eller provide a better place for him to live? Why does she keep him around if he creeps out Laurey so much?  Isn’t he being exploited here? What happened to him to make him so anti-social? Justin Lee Miller makes him villainous, but somehow also communicates that maybe things weren’t quite fair.

Speaking of Jud, the Deadly Kaleidoscope is a pretty strange weapon, isn’t it? And for all the guns around, it’s a little odd that Hammerstein uses a knife to decide things.

When Rodgers and Hammerstein were casting the original show, they first thought of Groucho Marx for the part of Ali Hakim, the Persian peddler and Ado Annie’s Other Man. That would have been hilarious, but the original cast was made up of relative unknowns, keeping the show true to its “ordinary people” roots.

Choreographer Agnes de Mille got her Broadway break with “Oklahoma!” and the end of Act One “ballet” sequence, an extended dream by Laurey, is strange and delightful. The cast moves well and I imagine they could manage even more complex dance sequences.

We shouldn’t forget that “Oklahoma!” is an ensemble show, and this production is deep with good movers and good voices, especially the latter, and the choir they make is rich and wonderful.  Musical director/conductor Rick Lewis has assembled a fine orchestra, too, and that makes the musical element a delight.

Set designer William Bloodgood delivered a characteristic set: clean and functional, smartly detailed and attractive, with lots of movable parts.

Richard Rodgers: We haven’t said much about the music itself, maybe because it recedes a bit, in service to the lyrics and the story. But Rodgers is witty in his own way, engaged, inventive, all of which you know already.

If you’re getting the idea that it was a fine night at the theater, then I’ve done my job!

Pure speculation

In the preview, Hughley quotes Coleman: “To me, it’s [“Oklahoma!”] about a community of people who’ve felt like outsiders and are hopeful of being integrated into the larger fabric of society.”I’m not sure that’s supported by the story. We don’t have a comparison between the little community on the prairie and anything else, except for Kansas City: “Everything’s up to date in Kansas City/They gone about as fer as they can go.” Which is part of a song (“Kansas City”) funny on so many levels. Hammerstein!

There is one line, though that stood out for me, maybe because of the African-American setting. It’s in a song at the start of Act Two, “The Farmer and the Cowhand,” sung by Aunt Eller: “I don’t say I’m better than anybody else,/But I’ll be damned if I ain’t just as good!”

So, I started thinking about an alternative “Oklahoma!”, a bleaker one, one that emphasized that community and its poverty even more. This was fed by a photo in the program of a black family homestead in Oklahoma, a crude building built into a little rise in the land with no windows.

Now, imagine Curly sauntering up to that homestead singing “O What a Beautiful Morning,” stopping to banter with Aunt Eller and then watching Laurey come out of that shack reprising the same song. What spirit does it take to sing that song in those circumstances? Or to sing the rousing conclusion “Oklahoma!”, a song with with optimism as high as an elephant’s eye?

Jud is more understandable in that “Oklahoma!”, I think, the desperately poor one, in which his own violence and obsessions seem more like consequences than causes. The $50 lunch baskets are more shocking, too, impossible, really. The next step with the musical may be to do it in black-and-white instead of technicolor, to treat it less as a Broadway fantasy and more like the real thing, whether with a white cast of a black one (or as Arena Stage in Washington, D.C., has done it, multi-cultural).

We are always re-inventing things, right? Intervening and “reviving? Which is why I shouldn’t be SO skeptical of revivals to begin with. Throw “Oklahoma!” a lifeline? Of course!

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I’ve never been a big Oklahoma fan, to tell the truth. What I’ve seen has been too straw-hat, corn-pone for my taste. But this—with it’s dazzling dancing, its energy and gorgeous choir—it’s a winner.

The Rodgers and Hammerstein script seems thin and stereotypical, even for a musical, but this production managed to bring out relevance. It’s a show about loving the simple things. “All the sounds of the Earth are like music,” sings Curly. How often, in our busy lives, do we listen to the winds, the crickets, the chickadees? “Don’t you wisht y’d go on forever?” he asks, painting pictures in our imagination, reminding us how fleetingly we live.

In contrast to having only what you need and enjoying the present, “Everything’s up to date in Kansas City,” as the town sings. It’s this hustle and bustle and greed that disturbs the beauty of now. And “Pore Jud is Daid,” is an amazing and darkly funny duet with Hicks and Justin Lee Miller, reminding us of the fact of death, for all of us.

The darkness grabs you by the throat. Indeed, I was mesmerized by Miller’s portrayal of the depraved Jud Fry, with expressionless face and hunched bearing. And yet through the nuanced performance we gather that he has been dehumanized by snap judgments. In Laurey’s dream sequence, lyrical dancing and lovely orchestral strains give way to maniacal piano thumps, and a pristine white wedding bed spins out of control, the room invaded by hurky-jerky dolls thrust upside down in frightening, twisted postures. What can be trusted in this world?

In a place where there is so much misunderstanding, where we are vulnerable to so much change - where even the farmer and cowman can’t get along - how can we find peace? Oklahoma will soon be a state, and we rejoice. But should we? A trusted hired hand appears as a murderer. Are we wrong to keep believing?

Yet we return to the simple things: the cattle standing like statues, the lark waking in the meadow. We return to each other. We sing and shout for the joy of being, just as we are, here in America.

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Of course, the show’s a lot of fun, too, enough that two generations of drama teachers have decided that big crowd scenes, cowboy hats and “Oh, What a Beautiful Mornin’” are worth talking down any parents alarmed by Jud’s porn collection and Ado Annie’s inability to heed Nancy Reagan’s advice. Hammerstein’s book and lyrics are characteristically over-wordy but funny enough to make the very talky second act bearable.

Chris Coleman, in his production of the show at Portland Center Stage, very ably balances its dual personalities of darkness and delight. I had feared that Coleman’s decision to cast only black actors meant we were in for an awkward concept production, but it turns out the director just wanted to work with incredibly talented performers who don’t often get to sing Rodgers and Hammerstein’s music. If color-blind casting is all it takes to get this kind of talent in Portland, then let’s have more of it: Oklahoma! has the strongest cast of any musical yet produced at the Gerding.

Rodney Hicks is restless and brash as Curly, all pouty macho affectation. Joy Lynn Matthews-Jacobs makes a cheerfully frightening Aunt Eller and Jonathan Raviv is a delightfully skeezy Ali Hakim. Justin Lee Miller’s Jud had me tearing up during “Lonely Room.” The brightest light on stage, though, is Marisha Wallace, who brings contagious joy to the role of Ado Annie (and, for the first time I can recall, genuine romantic chemistry to a PCS musical). Her Annie can’t say no, not because she’s mentally disabled (as she’s often portrayed), but because she overflows with feeling. She is sensual, generous and fun, completely free of cynicism. She could teach us all a thing or two.

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Oklahoma!, the first collaboration of Richard Rogers and Oscar Hammerstein, opened on Broadway in 1943 and broke all records by running for over 2,000 performances on its way to becoming a classic of American musical theater. But it has also been around long enough to be dismissed as a stale, worn-out portrait of a bygone time. Director Chris Coleman admits: “It’s beautiful material, but it also can be the corniest thing in the world.”

While researching the era, Coleman discovered that during the Land Rush of 1889 large numbers of African Americans migrated to the Oklahoma Territory in promise of land, work, and a new life. Up to fifty all-black towns flourished at this time. For Coleman, “Having an African American cast tell this story, for me, feels fresh, legitimate and perhaps newly resonant. For a musical that always risks feeling syrupy sweet, or cornnnnnnnny—grounding it in a real place and time, with real people who are building a life for themselves out of the land, and succeeding at a modest level, feels like it has the prospect of letting the whole thing breathe.” And breathe it does. Under Coleman’s artistic direction, this PCS production infuses not only fresh air but raw energy, enough to enliven this mainstay of musical theater. And it’s a love story. Two love stories.

The show opens as Curly, excellently played by Rodney Hicks, takes the stage, sits and silently shakes the sand from his boot. As anticipation builds, with splendid voice he fills the hall in an stirring rendition of ‘Oh What a Beautiful Morning.’ From here on the show just takes wing as the enormously talented cast sings and dances to the creative genius of Rogers and Hammerstein.

Curly exudes the optimism, promise and possibility of the time as Oklahoma was verging on statehood.  “A man has to change with a changing land,” he informs Laurey.  Brianna Horne plays the strong-willed, feisty Laurey. But beneath that high spirited nature yearns a desire for a different kind of life, one with “bowls of cut glass and fine linens.” Aunt Eller, who provides not only good common sense but great humor, is played by the delightful Joy Lynn Matthews-Jacobs, a joy to behold.

Justin Lee Miller embodies the sullen outcast, Jud. With shoulders rounded, hands in pocket, head facing down, and hat pulled low, Jud scurries across the stage always going somewhere but getting nowhere. As dark and forbidding as Jud can be, he elicits pity when singing in his ‘Lonely Room.’ Curly, the affable, straight-shooting cowboy, and Jud, the moody hired hand, both smitten by Laurey’s charms, vie not only for her picnic basket but for her affection, and from there it gets complicated.

The second romance centers around the flirtatious, impish Ado Annie—the girl who can’t say no. She’s never met a man she didn’t like, which is a source of confusion for the good-natured, but dim-witted wrangler Will Parker.  Jarren Muse, who plays Will Parker, is flat-out fun to watch as he tries to comprehend the capricious Ado Annie. And his energetic dance number—‘Kansas City’—provides the first of many “boot stompin’ times” which occur throughout the show. Jonathan Raviv plays the wily Persian peddler Ali Hakim, who likes Ado but prefers a life on the road to one on the farm. Marisha Wallace sparkles as the ditsy, lovable Ado Anne.  And, if you don’t know the difference between a ‘Persian Goodbye’ and an ‘Oklahoma Hello’ …well, these three lovable characters will enlighten you.

The ensemble cast members are all uniformly excellent and their performances enhance and contribute greatly to the show’s success. The same can be said of the technical team: The exuberant choreography by Joel Ferrell incorporates both energetic and expressive movement; William Bloodgood’s scenic designs are a treat for the eye, from the expansive skies to the farmhouses, and particularly those massive trees with the dappled light on the leaves; Ann Wrightson’s evocative lighting, especially in the haunting dream sequence; Casi Pacilio provided the excellent sound which amplified the voices, while the orchestra, buried beneath the stage, sounded great never missing a beat or overwhelming the singers; and Jeff Cone lent authenticity to the period with the colorful gingham dresses and the cowboy gear. Director Chris Coleman keeps a firm hand of the pulse of the play. It never lags. The scenes effortlessly transition; the pacing brisk while flowing in a steady current.

Richard Rogers, in his autobiography Musical Stages, when asked to explain the extraordinary success of Oklahoma! wrote: “When a show works perfectly, it’s because all the individual parts complement each other and fit together. No single element overshadows any other… That’s what made Oklahoma! work. All the components dovetailed.”

The success of this production is the result of all the individual parts fitting together and complementing one another. Portland Center Stage has once again provided a rich, rewarding, and thoroughly entertaining evening of musical theater.

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Absolutely everything about this show was thought provoking and enjoyable. The Rodgers and Hammerstein tunes flowed into my ears, in a way that I have never heard these classic songs sung. Scenic designer, William Bloodgood, created a masterful stage of houses and fences that looked like they had been tilted over by the wind that “comes sweepin’ down the plain” in front of a landscape of rolling hills and a spinning windmill. The choreography by Joel Ferrell was absolutely stunning. The dream sequence at the end of the first act captured my heart, I felt as though I was watching a ballet performance.

The actors expressed the same amount of emotion through their movements alone during the dream, as they did singing their hearts out in the finale Oklahoma. As a theatre teacher, I am utterly embarrassed that I have never seen Oklahoma before, and was very surprised by how dark parts of the script were. Justin Lee Miller portrayed Jud Fry as a demented and disturbed big bully, making me very uncomfortable in my seat. Brianna Horne who played the beautiful Laurey, Rodney Hicks who portrayed Curly as a completely lovable hunky cowboy, Joy Lynn Matthews-Jacobs who played the all-knowing Aunt Eller and the rest of the cast were absolutely phenomenal on stage.

While watching this show I realized that every resident of Portland should have the chance to see such a great rendition of Oklahoma. Don’t be dismayed by the redundancy that this musical usually presents because Portland Center Stage provides a unique twist to this classic American story, and I personally guarantee that you will enjoy this show.

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The cast, led by Rodney Hicks as Curly, the dream-boat cowboy-leading man, didn’t just hoot and holler, it sold the show by exposing the dramatic tension to its fullest. The conflict between the cowboys who thrived on an open range and the farmers who needed to fence it in received its apex during The Farmer and Cowman scene in the second act when taunting and slights threaten to break out into a full-blown brawl. But it was the conflict and resolutions in individual relationships that made the show so dynamic. Hicks’s Curly ardently pursued the reserved and beautiful farm girl Laurey, played Brianna Horne, and their barbed exchanges and posturing easily won over the audience. Horne needed to open up a little more in her upper register to balance better with Hick’s robust voice.

It would be hard to find another Aunt Eller that was more down-to-earth and lovable than the one created by Joy Lynn Matthew-Jacobs. The infectious combination of dancing and singing of Jarran Muse made the character of Will Parker a standout. Marisha Wallace embodied the gullible yet flirtatious Ado Annie Carnes with élan. Jonathan Raviv created several scene stealing moments with spot-on comic timing in his role as the peddler Ali Hakim. Justin Lee Miller delivered a threatening and believable portrayal of the hired hand Jud Fry, and his bass voice dominated the hall when he sang “Lonely Room.”

The choreography of the dream sequence, created by Joel Ferrell, effectively turned from bliss into nightmare, and the loosey-goosey dancing of the cowboys during the “Kansas City” number was dandy. The orchestra, conducted by Rick Lewis, balanced well with the singers throughout the show.

The scenery, created by William Bloodgood, wonderfully depicted a simple farmhouse and the expanse of the open plains. The smokehouse scene might have been more effective, if it could have been more claustrophobic.

This production of Oklahoma is a real treat, and it runs through October 30th. Don’t miss it.

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Coleman has attempted to make it new by choosing to set the play in an African American town, a setting that Portland Center Stage’s dramaturgical notes clearly explain is historically accurate. Oklahoma in the early 1900s was home to several black towns, many of which were self-sustaining, and in this way, the setting lends itself both to the story and characters in Oklahoma! The cowboy Curly (played by a thoughtful and charismatic Rodney Hicks) wants the love of Laurey (Brianna Horne), the lovable dunce Will Parker (Jarran Muse) wants to tame the overly flirtatious Ado Annie (Marisha Wallace), and everyone wants to carve out their slice of the American Way. The pursuit of love and autonomy are universal themes that just about anyone can relate to, and in this sense, Coleman’s take on Oklahoma! rings true.

Where Coleman’s choice becomes problematic, however, is in the story that isn’t being told with the production. Race simply isn’t a topic found in the original book that Hammerstein wrote for a 1940s Broadway audience, and Coleman hasn’t found a way to tackle this topic in the current production. One has to imagine that discrimination was something very much on the mind of African Americans at the turn of the 20th century. Jim Crow laws were being upheld by the Supreme Court, and the Civil Rights Act of 1964 was still decades away. The fact that this doesn’t even come across as an undertone in PCS’s production makes the credibility of Coleman’s choice questionable.

That isn’t to say that Oklahoma! is a waste of a production. On the surface, it’s full of high-energy performances and lovable moments. At its heart, however, resides a puzzling, even troubling choice.

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