THEODOR GABRIEL: LEONA’S SONG REVIEW
Last night I saw Leona’s Song at Balance Arts Center, written and directed with exacting detail by Morgan Hooper, and performed with a rare soulfulness and generosity by Pedro sá Moraes. To say I saw the show doesn’t quite tell the whole story; I could say I heard it, but really I witnessed a transformation: in the evening of storytelling, music, and myth, the ritual brings us beyond the stories.
Pedro opens the room by singing songs he learned at Samba gigs in his home country of Brazil, where, as he tells us, you don’t prepare a song so much as listen and jump in. And that may be the best way to describe this solo performance: even in Morgan’s elevated text and his own musical accompaniment, you can tell Pedro is an exquisite listener. His warm baritone fills the space, as resonant as his guitar, as friendly as the hardwood floor.
We transition to the story of the evening. The audience is cast in the role of the father, and you watch your daughter, Leona, gleefully playing with the sword you crafted for her from wood and leather. The guitar, triumphantly held high in the air, becomes the sword, as Pedro somehow embodies father and daughter in the same moment—not to mention Friend, the family dog and traveling companion. Even the space is transformed, not with set or props but by imagination: the humble box drum becomes a blanket, a ship deck, a mountain. On its surface it is the story of this unconventional family and their joyful seafaring adventures, with music, play-fighting, and pancakes on the mess deck. But beneath the sweetness of these interactions lie the father’s internal demons: grief, loss, regret. A shipwreck. A heartbreak. A deafening silence. We hear Leona’s favorite story of the King and his three brothers who climb together toward heaven. What will we find when we get there?
Originally conceived in Hooper’s final year of conservatory training in Scotland, Leona’s Song is a meditation on grief, loss, and personal accountability. The run continues at Balance Arts Center, 151 W 30th St, through Nov 17th.