Every time I think of joy, I think of the post-punk band Joy Division: That its members named the band after a concentration camp brothel where Jewish prisoners serviced SS officers is just the first of a series of tragic gestures that ended with lead singer Ian Curtis swinging from the rafters of his Manchester flat, a suicide at the age of twenty-three. It all makes for one grotesque, ironic joke. And yet the band’s music — somber, jagged, haunted — is full of joy. It suggests that joy isn’t a state unto itself, something pure and cut off from the world, but rather the remains of fear, hatred, and our own savage sense of survival. It is an after effect, what we wish for after the violence of the world has had its way.
Nowhere is this savagery better expressed than in Dave Malloy’s brilliant and terrifying song cycle, Ghost Quartet. You couldn’t ask for a more suitable setting than the empty Curran Theatre, presently undergoing a full-scale renovation. With the vast auditorium—silent and stately—looming in the background, it’s as if the performers and the audience, relegated to the tiny bit of land of the stage, are floating in space.
By necessity, musical theater often relies on simple stories simply told. But Malloy is a master of complex narrative techniques. The composer effortlessly takes four stories, spanning the 14th to the 21st centuries, and twists them until they seamlessly blend into each other. He achieves this without explaining them out. Instead, he relies on the emotion of the moment and our ability to piece together converging patterns, very much like how an astronomer might explain the order of the stars to a child.
So we get two sets of sisters, a Rose and Pearl seven centuries apart, who are connected by a 19th century Roxie whose dead sister is also a Rose. That they are all connected by murder is just the beginning of their nightmares. How Malloy and his talented performer-musicians shepherd these tragic stories towards a communal and joyful end is a wonder that is as simple as it is majestic.
Ghost Quartet isn’t alone, though. Throughout the Bay Area, theater companies large and small have been taking a torturous path to joy. Perhaps in anticipation of the coming season, we should take these as warning signs of the difficult times to come.