Why the J-bird Sings: Elena's Maria

Last night, we saw the Paper Mill Playhouse production of the musical, The Sound of Music. I went to see my dear teacher and friend, Elena Shaddow, who was cast in the role of Maria von Trapp.

photo credit: T. Charles Erickson

I was so excited to see her, simply because she is my friend, and because I've heard her sing and knew her voice would be wondrous. But on the way to the theatre last night, my thoughts were buzzing with anticipation. What would Elena's Maria be like?

I imagine most everyone adores Julie Andrews as Maria. (I do!!!!!!) Her voice, her mannerisms, her diction. To many, she IS Maria. But if you've read a bit from Maria von Trapp's autobiographies or interviews, you know that Julie Andrews was quite a "sweet" and "tame" portrayal of the woman's personality.* So then, if you are cast as the leading lady, how do you choose to embody your character? Does the director let you play or are you given specific direction? Do you try and reflect at least a shadow of the screen legend, an echo of the standard? The audience wants to see Julie. Give them Julie! Or at least give them half of Julie! Without meaning to, they will compare you to her, simply because she is the one engraved in their head and on their heartstrings. But, to resemble her too much would be a risk! Un-original! You must find a way to re-invent the beloved role, but under a magnifying glass of scrutiny and judgey-judgement from any would-be critics.

Finally at the theatre, my buzzing thoughts have tripled into an orchestra of expectation. Who would she be? How would she do it? I couldn't wait to find out. Do you ever feel like you can't wait to be inspired? Is that selfish? Inspire me. How can we place that kind of expectation on another human spirit? Inspire me!! And yet we do. I do. And boy can you feel it. When the houselights dim before Act I, Scene I, when the orchestra begins the overture, you can feeeel the energy. The abundant weight of expectation hanging in the cool air of the playhouse, in the seats of the over-worn velvet chairs, in the twittery, restless energy of the audience, when everyone patters away on their cell phones at the last moment, adjusting their coat, fidgeting in their seat, settling their kids, and successfully (or not) attempting to turn down the yammering of their own internal distractions, worries, and heartaches that still cling from the day's wear. The lights dim. We blink our eyes. And hold our breath.

“Music acts like a magic key, to which the most tightly closed heart opens.”

― Maria von Trapp

"My day in the hills...

has come to an end, I know....

and deep in the dark green shadows

Are voices that urge me to stay

So I pause and I wait and I listen

For one more sound, for one more lovely thing

That the hills might say......."

photo credit: T. Charles Erickson

"The hills are aliiiive.... with the souund of muuuusiiic....."

From the moment she opens her mouth to sing, and tugs that black and white wimple off her head, Elena Shaddow Harrington is anything but a shadow. With each note, "I know I shall hear, what I've heard befoooore....." the resonance of her voice came rushing through me... like water,... like wind,... sending chills and goose-bumps rippling up the back of my neck. I marveled. Lit from within by some secret flame, her perfect pitch and silken sound melted my heart and brightened every dark corner of the theatre. Her phrasing and movements were sincere, relaxed, not trying to prove anything or force her way into our hearts. From my seat in the audience, she looked so small and delicate in that mousey little nun costume, but she glowed through it like a bouquet of warm pink peonies, strong and sure and luminous.

I watched closely as she lovingly re-interpreted this role of Maria, as a more free-spirited, boisterous, yet utterly tender-hearted young girl.

When Maria confesses to the Mother Abbess that she has been singing without permission, Elena's Maria is so enchanting, so lovable, so vulnerable-- who does she remind me of??-- who IS this girl??

photo credit: T. Charles Erickson

Then to the scene in the Von Trapp home where she meets the captain and the children for the first time... more than once her spunky, spontaneous outbursts catch me off guard and I literally laugh OUT LOUD.

photo credit: T. Charles Erickson

And despite potential for "Do Re Mi" or "Lonely Goatherd" to get monotonous or cheesy, Elena breathes life into the song-- not only in her interpretation, not only in her dreamy lyric soprano voice, but most beautifully in the way she interacts with the children. The way she speaks with them, dances with them, embraces them, engages them.... In her autobiography, the real Maria said she "fell in love with the children at first sight, not their father."* Watching Elena be. so. present. on stage with those children--- this is no Mary Poppins governess. This is a mother's love.

photo credit: T. Charles Erickson

I could go on about the production, the other actors and actresses, the sets, the costumes, the nuns' singing (holy mother they were amazeballs (can I say that about nuns? amazeballs?)).... and yes, there were some characters and elements that could have been improved (isn't there always?). But there were also some characters and elements that were superb.

photo credit: T. Charles Erickson

But my dear Elena. How did she dare so greatly? How did she endure the iconic role of Maria? Quite unexpectedly--- with the wide-eyed whimsy and playfulness of Audrey Hepburn, the warmth and motherly-love of Susan Sarandon as Marmee in Little Women, the rambunctious spirit of Doris Day, and with her Whole Heart out on that stage.

Scene by scene, song by song, I found myself forgetting all about Ms. Andrews, and feeling as if I might be watching a more honest portrait of the Lady von Trapp than I had ever seen before. For a few glorious hours, Elena's Maria did more than inspire, she uplifted us to think higher and feel deeper.

Brava, my darling friend. Brava.