In the face of multiple two person theatre shows I’ll admit a bit of a penchant for the mid nineties John & Jen, for no reason other than my own sibling relationships making me thrilled to see a musical which places such potent emphasis not on a romantic two-hander but a consanguineal one.
The musical written between 1991 and 1995 premiered off-Broadway with Carolee Carmello’s enchanting vibrato and James Ludwig playing the leads. Twenty years after its premiere, it managed a revival with Kate Baldwin and Conor Ryan and in this wonderful era of musical theatre where cast recordings are more common, it managed a well produced, pristinely recorded release by Broadway Records, which is a wonderful thing, because it’s a cast recording worth keeping. Like many musical theatre fans, I’m sure that when faced with the question of “do I have enough Kate Baldwin numbers in my musical library?” the answer is a startling and disappointing, "no." So, how lovely to have this opportunity to add a score of well sung Baldwin numbers from Andrew Lippa’s underrated score to your collection.
The musical follows the life of Jen Tracy from the early 1950s to the 1990s. The first act traces her loving then torrid relationship with her younger brother John who dies in the Vietnam war, the second act focuses on her relationship with her son, also named John, through the 70s and 80s. The issues are standard, sibling rivalry, bonding and then arguing over parents in the first act and then the mother/son dynamic of the second act focusing on the stifling mother and gender gaps. John & Jen has always been a lovely and impressive small score, that for some reason has remained quite unrecognized. With a few changes here and there to the score, this revival recording is a bit more confident than the original one (although, I could do without the new number “Trouble with Men” about Jen’s highschool boyfriends) and nicely zeroes in on the parallels between both Johns
Kate Baldwin getting to create a single character’s development through the entire two acts shines more on the recording. It’s no slight to Conor Ryan but it’s hard to match Baldwin’s soaring voice which is on full display with the material offered. I reiterate, for anyone who loves Kate Baldwin’s resonant voice (and, truly, we all should) the recording becomes a treasure hearing her manipulate the emotional ballads but also the sly (and even occasionally unsubtle) comedic numbers. To be fair, it’s not that Conor Ryan does not acquit himself, he matches Kate where necessary but a crutch of being John in any production is that he’s stuck playing a child, or a child only barely becoming a man, in both incarnations whereas Jen gets to grow up, and as she grows the emotion in her voice grows more potent. It is not until the final song that Ryan finally gets his moment and the two seem evenly matched. The recording was already impressive before but the final two numbers of the album truly click in a perfect way. As if freed from Jen’s expectations of him, Ryan’s John is finally able to sing unencumbered. It’s why, then, “Every Goodbye Is Hello” turns out to be the peak of the recording. It’s a beautiful number where the two are completely in sync, where Ryan is oddly both John the brother and the son John but, also, neither of them. It becomes a beautiful duet of any non-romantic male/female relationship that has finally lost its tension and become sublime. And the soaring orchestrations (composer Jason Robert Brown works with Lippa on them) on that number in particular sells it. Lippa’s melodies sound beautiful and gorgeous.
I hesitate to call John and Jen Lippa’s best work, although I am tempted to. He’s done more adventurous and innovative work (think of “The Juggernaut” on The Wild Party) and he’s done more emotional work (think of the underrated score to Big Fish) but for simple and earnest melodies John and Jen seems to be in a category of its own. I suspect it’s why composers are drawn to two-hander shows. They offer a chance to get simple and effective in a way larger casts don’t always do. Lippa sometimes gets criticised for his allegedly unnecessary theatrics (a bit paradoxical when he’s writing for the theatre anyhow) but John and Jen has always been unusual in his oeuvre for how it reins things in.
But the recording is impressive for more than just the music which comes with it. The 20th Anniversary recording comes with a digital booklet of lyrics for the show in addition to a detailed plot summary and to cap it off two lovely introductions to the show – the first by lyricist Tom Greenwald and the second by Jeffrey Seller. John and Jen is perhaps destined to always be remembered as "a little show", but with this recording to add to the original one there’s no reason for it to be unremembered. Its focus is on the smaller aspects of life, but it’s a smallness coming from sincerity and specificity. Its story rests on sadness, but it’s a sadness buoyed by a smile, which soars thanks to Conor Ryan, and especially Kate Baldwin.
