The purposes of this review are twofold: first, to convey the eminently pleasant though not necessarily intellectually stimulating experience of seeing The Light in the Piazza at the Huntington Theater; and second, to convince you, yes YOU, the member of the Advocate reading this (or honestly whoever else) to take up my mantle of reviewing shows at the Huntington now that I have graduated.
The Light in the Piazza, with music and lyrics by Adam Guettel and book by Craig Lucas, is a musical about Americans on a Florentine vacation in 1953. Margaret (Emily Skinner) and her daughter Clara (Sarah-Anne Martinez) follow the path of Margaret’s honeymoon while the man of the family remains stateside. Clara meets an Italian boy, Fabrizio (Joshua Grosso), and it’s love at first sight. But Clara has a developmental disability caused by… getting kicked in the head by a Shetland pony at a birthday party at age six… so Margaret refuses to let them see each other. There is, of course, a colorful Italian family to round out the cast of characters, with the requisite Italian guy who is so straight he seems gay (played by Alexander Ross), Italian woman who wears pedal pushers (played by Rebekah Rae Robles), and Italian house staff who are not allowed to talk. Of course, all turns out well in the end!
For the ideal viewing experience, treat this show like an opera. You are not there to follow the plot, which is belabored at best. The third scene in the show, which is completely in Italian, should be the clue that you’re not there to know what’s going on. (Spanish and Italian are somewhat mutually intelligible, and I felt very smart when I knew what “la luce nella piazza” meant.) Unfortunately, the two mothers in the show are burdened with fourth-wall breaks—the Italian one even does hers in English!—which malevolently tricks the audience into thinking we need to know anything about the plot besides the amount each character loves each other character.
The reason you can’t think about the plot too much: though Loretta Greco’s direction handles Clara’s mental state very well, and implies a greater maturing than the script necessitates, one can’t help but worry that Clara doesn’t really know Fabrizio. In 1950’s Italy (or America), a disabled wife could not really count on any man to treat her respectfully and safely. We as the audience also don’t know anything about Fabrizio because he only monologues in Italian. And Fabrizio is just 20 when they marry. Whatever. He seems nice. He sings “Clara!!!!!” a lot.
No, The Light in the Piazza is for experiencing a spectacle. The musical boasts perhaps the grandest score in theatre. “Say It Somehow,” the Act One closer, is one of the best duets I’ve seen performed on stage. And the singers carry it beautifully throughout, with Joshua Grosso really shining on the soaring “ahs” and “ohs.” Rebecca Pitcher as Fabrizio’s mother fits the bill if you want a classical operatic diva, and who doesn’t? The period-accurate costumes are amazing to look at, and I especially liked one woman’s dress-and-glasses look in the first scene (you can see her in the background of the accompanying photo). The sets are mostly gorgeous as well; all luxurious dark wood and flower stands. Someone rides a bicycle across the stage and it’s, to be honest, great. I had a great time.
I do wish I understood the Italian. If you speak Italian, can you go and then tell me what you think?
A few aspects of the direction distract rather than dazzle. There are four—count ‘em, four—children in the show who are “extras,” meaning there is no script-mandated reason for them to be there. In a few scenes they mirror the youth and naivete of the main couple by wearing basically the couple’s same exact outfits and running around playing rock-paper-scissors during their first love song, which of course is a symbol for chance, and negotiation, and trust, and… you get it. But children, especially children who are allowed to have childhoods, are only so good at naturalistic acting and not pulling focus. I believe Greco probably knows this—but once you’ve cast a kid, you can’t cut the kid. Also, there is one scene, towards the end of the show, in which the cast does real actual choreography for the first time, and it’s weird as hell. I just don’t think you can introduce dancing in the eleven o’clock number. Weather is used too heavy-handedly, but I almost always think that. And, finally, I think someone should take a jackhammer to every projector in every theater across the world. There was a beautiful cathedral set, with candles and arches and pews and everything, and the projected backdrop was a loop of soft-focus flames that looked like a screensaver from 2009. The projected paintings were cool, but they would have been cooler if they were real and flown in from the rafters.
But this show was basically as good as Broadway—which has most of the same problems in a lot of shows—and you can see it for $25 if you’re a student. So, you should. It’s very summery, they serve a delicious $3 strawberry iced tea, it’s right off the 1 bus, and the people-watching of audience members is far better than short-form video content. It’s playing until June 15!
You know what’s even better than paying $25 for a Broadway-quality show? Paying nothing. I got to spend this excellent evening for free (well, $3 for the iced tea and $3 for bus fare) in exchange for writing down the thoughts about the show that I would have had anyway. Advokats, you gotta get in on this!
2025