Choosing My Religion

by Steve Cohen

Myths and HymnsThrough May 19, Prince Music Theater, 1412 Chestnut St., 215-972-1000

In Adam Guettel’s Myths & Hymns, 30-something Matthew (modeled after the composer himself) is dissatisfied with his life and embarks on a journey of self-discovery. He immerses himself in myths -- like Icarus, he leaves his father’s shadow and flies near the sun, like Pegasus he aims for the heavens, like Leander he swims toward a distant loved one. He continuously puts off reality, like his lover’s attempts to talk with him (she eventually has her own religious epiphany at an abortion clinic).

Near the end, Matt realizes that Greek myths and Christian hymns have much in common in their desire to transcend earthly bonds. Myths are like dreams -- Matt is always cast as the hero -- but hymns become a central figure in Matt's life. We see and hear the various religious influences on him, from the gospel-sounding "Shout," to the reverential "Awaiting You" and Shaker-style hymns. In the end, Matt comes to recognize a greater force in the universe, although, he notes, "maybe in God we trust just a lucky charm."

This diaphanous plot was developed by Eric Rosen, based on a song cycle by Guettel. Guettel's Saturn Returns was presented at Manhattan's Public Theater in concert form in 1998 and recorded by Nonesuch as Myths & Hymns in 1999. The Prince opted to take a new, more theatrical approach, and also commissioned Bruce Coughlin to write new orchestrations. His scoring is less astringent and more supportive of Guettel's melodies than what we heard previously. With solo licks by violin, cello and sax, it has a more romantic sound, although certain numbers, like "Icarus," are funkier.

Theater-goers who enjoyed Guettel's Floyd Collins will find that Myths & Hymns is even more joyful and melodic, with great vocal showpieces. Guettel's melodies are soaring and beautiful but difficult to sing, and they are performed very well, especially by Ken Barnett, Maree Johnson, José Llana and Paul Oakley Stovall. Rosen's staging is clever, most notably in "How Can I Lose You?," a funny waltz about Sisyphus and the rock, and in the finale, which takes the show out into the audience. The most noticeable flaw is a lack of sufficient exposition at the start, to let us see Matthew's emotional turmoil. That for which he yearns is revealed gradually in the lyrics: quiet fortitude, a lighthouse on the shoreline and a hope "to be the stuff that myths are made of."