`Violet' Gives Audience Something To Sing About

------------------------------- Theater review

"Violet." Music by Jeanine Tesori, book and lyrics by Brian Crawley. Directed by Susan K. Schulman. A Contemporary Theatre, 700 Union St., Seattle. Tuesday-Sunday through Nov. 15. $10-$38. 206-292-7676. -------------------------------

In her book "Autobiography of a Face," Lucy Grealy writes movingly of being facially disfigured and afflicted with "the great tragedy" of feeling ugly and abnormal in a culture obsessed with external beauty. But she also tells of finally tapping into a source of joy and self-acceptance "deep and sonorous inside me."

A similar battle for self-esteem is waged in "Violet," a heartfelt little musical that drew attention and awards Off-Broadway last year and is now having its regional debut at A Contemporary Theatre.

While Grealy's saga was inspirational without sentimentality, "Violet" is a quasi-fairy tale that often settles for homespun platitudes and romantic contrivances at the expense of less pat choices.

Yet despite the simplistic and schmaltzy aspects of "Violet," the show has a genuine sincerity and sweetness that can pierce through one's skepticism. It gets a graceful staging at ACT by its original director, Sarah H. Schulman, with charming choreography by Kathleen Marshall. And it is blessed with some lovely indigenous music composed by Jeanine Tesori, sung out with conviction by a commendable cast.

Based on the Doris Betts story, "The Ugliest Pilgrim," Brian Crawley's book for "Violet" follows the 1964 bus journey of a backwoods North Carolina woman, desperate to find a televangelist who'll pray away her prominent facial scar.

Enroute the spunky but obviously naive Violet (played powerfully here, as in New York, by Lauren Ward) finally enters the wider world. And she quickly cozies up with two young soldiers on the bus: the handsome, cocky Monty (Scott Beck) and more sensitive Flick (Robert Barry Fleming), a black man Violet at first insults but soon cares for.

The 25-year-old Violet's odyssey (conducted on Derek McLane's spare but clever set, well lit by Peter Kaczorowski) intersects with glimpses of her adolescent self (talented young Vicki Noon), leading up to the accident that scarred her. We witness young Vi's closeness with her widowed father (solid John Wilkerson), a humble man who encourages her strength but is the unintentional agent of her anguish.

The plot of "Violet" can be easily picked apart. So the starved-for-affection protagonist has a sexual fling on her trip? Fine. But entrancing two men with her rough-grained charm? And Violet's eventual encounter with that slick Tulsa preacher proves ungainly, if not downright anti-climatic.

But as the spirited, melodic music flows forth, it expresses much about the Southern community Violet belongs to, and the black-white tensions and attractions that wrack it. With rippling piano and guitar-banjo-mandolin figures and rich vocal harmonies, Tesori's score is both folksy and sophisticated, lush and spare, a smart amalgam of country, church and blues idioms.

Especially rousing are the gospel numbers: the choral "Raise Me Up" (featuring terrific Roz White), exhortative "Let it Sing" (showing off Fleming's falsetto) and the uplifting finale, "Bring Me to Light." (Keesha Fleth and Sharva Maynard get shining solos elsewhere.)

Tesori likes to twist and elongate her melodies just enough to avoid conventional song structure, which befits Crawley's largely conversational lyrics. But there is one tender, stand-alone ballad at hand: "Lay Down Your Head," sung by Ward in a voice of new-pressed cider.

Baggily dressed (by designer Catherine Zuber), her face unearthly pale and limbs gawky, Ward's Violet exudes radiance and torment, dreaming over movie magazines but yearning for real redemption.

But note: Ward has no visible scar marring her raw-boned beauty. Some viewers may cry "Cop out!," yet by having to simultaneously imagine Violet's deformity and view her as "normal," we're challenged to sort through our own feelings about external/internal beauty, rather than having a make-up job do it for us.

More problematic is the naive suggestion that a black man falls for this "disfigured" white woman because he shares her feelings of being an outcast in an intolerant society. It's love as mutual victimhood.

But, imperfections and all, "Violet" (like its lead character) still has something "different" that recommends it. Plus the show makes you eager to hear more from the gifted Tesori.