You’ve gotta have a gimmick, or so goes the song. Pianist Hershey Felder has his. Over twenty years ago he began telling the stories of famous composers. He debuted with Gershwin. Just Felder and his piano on the stage. It was terrific. He seemed to embody their stories and character. As the years have gone by he has used his formula to tell the stories of multiple more classical composers. From time to time I sampled these productions. Their charm has worn off for me. I would see Felder, not the characters. I would enjoy the bits of music, but the format lost its mystique.
The structure of this one is different. Yes, he is playing the role of Rachmaninoff and playing snippets and larger cuts of familiar Rachmaninoff works, but the story emerges as a morphine induced dream wherein he has conjured up a visit from Russia’s last Tsar, Nikolai Alexandrovich Romanov. (Jonathan Silvestri). In addition to an additional character there is a more elaborate stage set then I recall from previous productions: a projection of the actual house in Beverly Hills where he spent his last days on the beck scrim and a garden complete with a grand piano and benches. Logical, no, but the conversation takes place in a morphine induced dream.
We learn that Rachmaninoff came from an aristocratic family whose fortunes were frittered away by his father who then abandoned the family. Frayed aristocracy always holds some romantic interest for Americans. It becomes clear through the conversation of the two men that the composer never lost his aristocratic bearings. He got himself and his family out of Russia in time to avoid the wrath of the Bolsheviks, but like many emigres he yearns for Mother Russia, a real or imagined place. We all know the fate of tsar Nicholai II and his family. At the time of Rachmaninoff’s death, 1943, there were still active rumors that the Tsar’s daughter Anastasia had escaped execution. Many imposters emerged from the woodwork claiming to be her. A journalist wrote a story about one particular “Anastasia” and Rachmaninoff proceeded to support the imposter for years. Felder is fascinated by Rachmaninoff’s support of others … despite the sense one gets that, in this case, his connection to her was superficial.
Does the two person/dream structure rescue Felder from sense that he has a gimmick? Yes and no. There is still something lacking in the dramatic structure. I do not think it would work if the subject were an unknown composer … if we were not hearing samples of one of the last of the great romantics. If you have never seen one of Felder’s bits, you might enjoy it. You certainly will learn something about a famous composer and musician. It will remind you of a piece of Russian history. If you share my feeling that Felder’s gimmick is becoming worn, Rachmaninoff And The Tsar is not likely to change your mind.
Karen Weinstein
