Imagine that Sally Field had played Norma Rae using Carol Channing’s Dolly Levi as inspiration, and you can only begin to conceive the way in which Lynne Wintersteller takes hold of the stage as the title character in Mother Jones and the Children’s Crusade. Inspired by the real life story of Mary Harris Jones, who at one point became known as “the most dangerous woman in America”, this musical by Cheryl E. Kemeny follows the courageous Jones as she inspires a group of factory workers to go on strike and rebel against the system that’s forcing their children to work instead of being in school.
Jones first appears as if she had been invoked, and to a degree she has, as we first hear a group of women sing about her achievements, “the miner’s angel” they call her. Every time Wintersteller is onstage, the show feels truly alive, as she injects the audience and her fellow cast members with extraordinary energy. “Gonna get a piece of heaven, if we raise a little hell”, she sings as she invites other women to bang pots, tap dance and use any method available to make sure they’re heard. And while the show’s plot centers on the legendary children’s crusade, in which Jones guided a group of women and children from Kensington to Oyster Bay to request an audience with President Theodore Roosevelt, the show’s larger theme is the discovery of one’s own voice.
Lizzie Klemperer plays the shy but smart Jenny Markem, a factory worker who dares to dream beyond what her means permit. She seeks employment at the office of lawyer Alexander Gottlieb (Kevin Reed) who sees untapped potential in her determination. Once Jenny meets Mother Jones, it’s only a matter of time before she realizes that her voice might be the most powerful tool against oppression. Kemeny beautifully allows her songs to follow the same pattern, a slow but steady self-discovery on the way to exquisiteness; the first songs being simple folk pieces, that eventually turn into rousing, complexly layered anthems.
Directed by Michelle Tattenbaum and featuring stunning scenic design by Scott Tedmon-Jones, Mother Jones and the Children’s Crusade, might be the one show at the festival that demands an instant Broadway transfer. Its ideas are too grand and beautiful, for them not to be seen by as many audience members as possible, its performances (from the smallest supporting parts - Robin de Jesus proves why he’s the go-to scene-stealer - to Wintersteller’s star turn) both universal and specific.
“I see in you what you couldn’t have seen in yourself” says Jones to Jenny, and we might very well apply this line to the show itself. Its intimate scope is admirable, but needs to be expanded. This little show indeed raises hell and for all we know, it’s pure theater heaven.
