With blank pages awaiting sketches and a huge white canvas that will need painting in, Georges Seurat defines his challenge as, "to bring order to the whole." Manatee Players face a similar dare: to make a holistic production from Stephen Sondheim and James Lapine's semi-operatic version of a 19th century artist's and his fictional great grandson's need to create original art. No matter the difference it makes to their personal, even most intimate relationships. Yet how much it matters to others involved.
In Sunday in the Park with George, we see Seurat (Steve Dawson, imposing as actor and artist -- he's actually one by education and profession) meeting his challenge by producing "Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte" in suburban Paris. His mistress Dot
(Diane Dawson, impressive both acting and singing) dominates the titled scene as she does later at night in his studio, illuminating his absorption in composing.
Dot is tired of being Georges's model, not regarded as much more than an object like the others he's putting in his painting. Included: an old lady, actually his mother (no-nonsense Meg Newsom), and her nurse (jovial Ellie Pattison); a servant (assured Chris Caswell), a burly boatman (David Walker, tough), some fashionable, silly but lively young ladies (Vera Samuels, Krissy Pizzo), a pair of handsome soldiers (engaging Anthony Sanataniello and cardboard duplicate). Georges all but ignores a youngster running about (energetic Eliza
Lipton). But he does pay attention to her father, a popular artist (Rodd Dyer, self important) and his wife (Grace Gibbs, part snobbish, part sympathetic), hoping the artist-critic's opinion of his work ("No Life") will change.
Pregnant, Dot leaves Georges to wed more stable, caring Louie (exemplary Michael Kent), a baker. Georges won't stop his painting even to look at his daughter just before Dot and Louie leave for America. A tableau of his "models" finishes Act I and his painting, only to appear opening the next act. "It's Hot Up Here," they complain, rather than relishing their place in a work of art.
Skipping to the 20th Century.... Seurat's fictional great grandson (Steve Dawson, casually clad and likeable) shows his own artwork in connection with a Seurat retrospective. "Chromolume #7" uses electronic media. It fails when electricity does. Maybe when it doesn't. Among modern George's "inheritances" are trouble emotionally
connecting with people (his wife is an "ex") and advancing his art-making with originality. But his modern, biggest problem is "Putting It Together"-- that is, "dealing" with financiers, collectors,exhibitors to get his work done and shown.
Dot's daughter Marie (Diane Dawson, aged effectively) plans to go with George to La Grande Jatte to show his Chromolume. Her death prevents that, but not before she teaches him ("Children and Art") family is important. When his engineer Dennis (Chris Caswell, assertive), with George on the isle barely recognizable as the scene of the famous painting, announces he'll leave to do fresh work, George knows he, too, must change.
A dream-like appearance by Dot and her notes about Seurat that Marie preserved convince George to "Move On." Their duet also finishes the long-ago aborted lovers' song. A swift reconstruction of the old masterpiece in new surroundings deconstructs to a white canvas. It, along with Seurat's noted words describing artistic creation, turn the modern George on to possibilities for his art. Old and new "Sunday" blend in harmony.
It is hard to imagine any company bettering Manatee Players' presentation, under Rick Kirby's astute direction, of a musical that helps explain artistic creativity while producing it. And the need for artistic freedom while channeling it. The play also seems to plea for observers for be open-minded: Audiences, take note!
Both Marc Lalosh's design and Joseph Oshry's lighting -- with use of backdrop and large white screen for projections and a roll-on scrim fronting actors posed (as if models from an actual painting) or acting (as in Georges' painting in his studio) -- reach perfection. Animation ranges from realistic to whimsical. David W. Walker's excellent costumes, while original, seem like those worn on La Grande Jatte or in a 19th century studio, and also appropriately duplicate 1980's "in" fashions.
Musicians handle the technically difficult music with care, as does the cast articulate Sondheim's all important lyrics. Directed by Rick Kirby, the actor-singers all become their parts much more than play them, fixing their character interpretations like Seurat did for those he painted. Such quality makes the achievement of the Dawsons all the more outstanding. No better acting-singing couple graces Suncoast stages.
