Playwright Moisés Kaufman rose to prominence with “Gross Indecencies: The Three Trials of Oscar Wilde,” and then later with “The Laramie Project.” As a director, he’s turned Raji Joseph’s “Bengal Tiger at the Baghdad Zoo” into a critical success. Kaufman’s newest work, “33 Variations,” with Jane Fonda reprising the role of a Beethoven scholar suffering from ALS, or Lou Gehrig’s disease, opened last week at the Ahmanson Theatre.
In 1819, the Viennese music publisher Anton Diabelli wrote a short, mediocre waltz for the piano and then asked 50 leading composers to create a variation of it. The results would be published in a handsome commemorative volume, with proceeds to benefit victims of the Napoleonic Wars. Apparently, everyone who was asked to contribute agreed, except for Ludwig van Beethoven. He called Diabelli’s tune a “cobbler’s patch,” but shortly changed his mind (recurrent money problems, no doubt) and in Kaufman’s play we see the great composer’s secretary or assistant, Anton Schindler (Grant James Varjas) bartering with Diabelli (Don Amendolia) about payment and – as is often the case with moody men of genius – delivery of the final work.
But an interesting thing happened. Beethoven – convincingly portrayed by Zach Grenier – first wrote one variation, then another, and another still. Soon he had half a dozen. It’s long been a mystery as to why the composer kept returning to what was dross, and spinning gold from it.
Kaufman, arguably a great artist himself, wanted to explore this in depth so he created a middle-aged music scholar, Dr. Katherine Brandt (Fonda), who becomes intrigued, possibly obsessed, with this unsolved riddle. At the time that he was writing his Diabelli variations, Beethoven was hurting financially and his hearing – which had been on the decline since the turn of the century – was becoming much worse.
There is a certain poignancy to “33 Variations” – a bit forced perhaps, but no matter – in that Katherine herself is rapidly on the decline. In the opening scene, accompanied by her daughter, Clara (Samantha Mathis), she goes to a clinic where she is examined by a nerdy male nurse named Mike Clark (Greg Keller). It’s a crucial scene, not only because we learn that Katherine is ailing, but because Clara meets Mike, the two form a tenuous bond, and now the play has its comic relief in the bag. Clara is capable, but she’s not an overachiever, and has never attained her mother’s high expectations. The friction between them underlines “33 Variations” in red ink.
Not one to be daunted by a less than hopeful diagnosis, Katherine flies to Bonn, Germany, so she can immerse herself in the Beethoven archives. This is clearly an act of bravery, and it is also the act of a stubborn and strong-willed woman who is soon feeling the urgency of her endeavor and understanding that it is also a race against time. Fonda is visually effective because she is tall and statuesque and yet old enough – now 73 – that she is able to convey both the scholarly edifice and the inevitable crumbling and decay that will bring it down.
There are comparisons to be made between “33 Variations” and Margaret Edson’s “W;t,” in which a John Donne scholar must endure the forced indignities of terminal cancer, and also with Tom Stoppard’s “Arcadia” and Peter Shaffer’s “Amadeus.” All of these are thought-provoking, literary plays, each one worth a repeat visit. Kaufman’s work stands apart from them in that he includes an onstage pianist, Diane Walsh, who flawlessly weaves excerpts of the variations into the narrative.
Once in Bonn, Katherine becomes acquainted with the archive librarian, Dr. Gertrude Ladenburger (Susan Kellermann). The latter seems as strong and cold as one of Wagner’s Valkyries, but an arc will develop, as in fact it will in perhaps all of the character relationships. After all, this is a play about transformation and transfiguration and, of course, transcendence.
There are moments here when one feels that simplicity usually is the best approach, and the various concurrent interactions (whether in Vienna or Bonn or NYC) can occasionally bump heads. When there’s so much to take in and sort out the intellect goes to work and the emotions go to bed. That might be the biggest loss here, a story that truly tugs at the heart. Yes, we do feel for the characters, but sporadically, and not in a way that lingers.
During the course of “33 Variations” Katherine ages a few months and Beethoven a few years, finally wrapping up his compositions for Diabelli in 1823. He may have been ridiculing the piece early on, his first variation being a march, but by the end he’s turned it into a minuet – and thus an implied respect emerges.
No one knows for sure why there are 33 all total, but people have theories and they are easily found on the Internet. Was it Beethoven’s competitive spirit with the other composers that egged him on? Did he ever see or hear any of their variations while at work on his own? Did he really immerse himself in them as much as the play leads us to believe?
Near the work’s conclusion one may feel that Beethoven and Katherine are truly kindred spirits, and there is a sense that questing minds can somehow resonate with one another even if separated by time and space. Even now, perhaps, in some parallel universe or time warp, Beethoven is sitting at his desk and writing. Maybe the reason why some works of art are created is because somebody in the future, or in the past, has a need for it. One is never sure, ethereal questions loom, and Moisés Kaufman’s play hints at connections and meanings far beyond the here and now.
33 Variations, directed by the playwright, is onstage through March 6 at the Ahmanson Theatre, 135 N. Grand Ave., downtown Los Angeles in the Music Center. Tuesday through Friday at 8 p.m., Saturday at 2 and 8 p.m., Sunday at 1 and 6:30 p.m. Dark Monday. Student performance only on Feb. 23. Tickets, $20 to $80. Call (213) 972-4400 or go to CenterTheatreGroup.org. ER
