‘Opus’ makes a string quartet riveting

BURLINGTON – When audiences watch a string quartet on stage, performing with the ultimate intimacy found in music, few imagine the soap opera it takes to get to that sublime moment – full of turmoil, drudgery, egos, and even sex and drugs. Mark Hollinger’s 2006 drama, “Opus,” tells the story of a fictional string quartet in turmoil, and not only does he get it right, he tells the tale so directly that it can fascinate someone who has never even heard a string quartet.

Vermont Stage Company, the Flynn Center’s resident professional theater company, opened its 2009-2010 season with a riveting production that packs a wallop. There is scarcely a less-than-fascinating moment in this very even production, full of the humor and drama of music-making – and life.

The play opens with a very nervous young violist, Grace, auditioning before the three remaining members of the renowned (fictional) Lazara Quartet. Immediately, she is confronted by each member’s eccentricities as she decides whether to join the ensemble, her lifetime dream but an iffy way to make a living. Finally, she agrees to give up an audition with the Pittsburgh Symphony – a much more dependable job – to perform as an individual, rather than one of a large group.

In string quartets, each player has a separate, usually equal part. The Lazara Quartet, like most American quartets, operates as a democracy, each member with a vote. (European quartets tend to be more first violin-dominated.) Add to this that the four must travel together constantly, often seeing each other more than they see their spouses. Therein lies plenty of opportunity for drama, both in real life and this play.

Grace, who apparently is very good, is greeted with enthusiasm by the three, but gradually she realizes the shadow of her predecessor looms. Dorian, once the first violinist but now demoted to violist (most violinists can play both instruments), was the ensemble’s only real genius, but the other three felt that his neurotic tantrums were destroying the ensemble.

As the story unfolds, there is plenty of underlying drama: The prissy Elliot, now first violinist, and Dorian were longtime lovers; second violinist Alan lost his marriage over his on-the-road trysts; and the shadow of cancer looms over the cellist Carl, a devoted family man.

The story unfolds as the quartet prepares Beethoven’s String Quartet, Opus 131 (one of the composer’s “Late Quartets,” a sublime masterpiece that can be almost as difficult for the audience as the players) for a performance at the White House. In one of the play’s many humorous moments, it becomes clear that the president is George Bush, whom all loathe.

All comes to a head after the performance. The play’s climax is a bit overwrought, but the trip there was well worth it – whether you know classical music or not.

It is clear that the playwright was a violist as there is only one line that comes near to being a viola joke: A string quartet is made up of one good violinist, one bad violinist, someone who wants to be a violinist (the violist), and finally, someone who doesn’t even like violin (the cellist).

Vermont Stage’s production, directed by Jason Jacobs, feels amazingly authentic and is one of Vermont Stage’s most even and consistent productions in recent memory. With the help of Vermont Symphony violinist (and fiddler) David Gusakov, the players’ attitude toward their instruments and the music was fairly accurate.

Ethan Bowen does an incredible job of evoking the inner turmoil of the neurotic genius Dorian. He is countered by the intense control freak of Wayne Tetrick as Elliot. Craig Maravich’s portrayal of the quartet’s Romeo, Carl, seemed entirely natural and convincing, save for his becoming histrionic in the final scene after never being so before (and this may be due to direction or the script). Jack Bradt, an actor very familiar to central Vermonters, delivered a layered and fully dimensional portrayal of Carl, possibly the quartet’s sanest member.

The stage was set effectively by an attractive design by Jenny Fulton, including a backdrop of a hand-written score, lighting by John Forbes and sound design by Joel Abbott. (The fine recording used for musical interludes was created by the Vertigo String Quartet for the Arden Theatre Company, which premiered the play.)

“Opus,” with the metaphor of a string quartet, explores the turmoil in all our lives.