To the list of larger-than-life, survivalist women in musical theater, add Tamara de Lempicka — but with an asterisk.
The name of the Polish-born portraitist who died in 1980 might not be familiar to many, but you might recognize her paintings. Lempicka’s Art Deco-era images depict lustrous women with self-assured gazes, endowing “the new woman” with a mixture of luminosity and strength that’s at the heart of “Lempicka,” a long-in-development but still uneven musical which finally made it to Broadway following runs at Williamstown Theatre Festival in 2018 and La Jolla Playhouse last year.
Certainly Eden Espinosa, starring in the title role, brings both luminosity and strength to her powerful performance as the ambitious, visionary and resilient artist known for capturing the women of her day in an aspirational light: perfectly poised, coiffed and seemingly glowing from within.
But the musical’s titular character is not so polished. Rather she’s a complicated woman — to a fault. This might not be as much of a concern in a thick biography, but it’s harder to convey successfully in a musical where a clearer line is needed as it follows epochs of life, society and art.
“History’s a bitch, but so am I,” Lempicka says slyly at the start of the show. She is an elderly woman sitting alone on a park bench in 1975 Los Angeles, all but forgotten save for her memories of a long-ago, glamorous — and turbulent — era. Though the line is snappy, the bitchiness, which might have enlivened the character after that scene, is largely absent.
But Espinosa’s presence, personality and stunning voice still manage to make the character captivating even as Lempicka becomes increasing contradictory: motherly while being self-absorbed; commercially driven while speaking grandly about art; a woman of vision as well as obliviousness; a person of both passion and calculation.
“Never let them see the brush strokes,” says Lempicka’s mother to her — and later the artist says it to her own young daughter Kizette (Zoe Glick). But the show’s book by Carson Kreitzer and Matt Gould is nothing but brushstrokes, widely, and at times wildly, drawn. It sweeps us from Los Angeles in the ‘70s back to the Russian Revolution in 1917, then to Paris in the ’20s and ’30s. Throughout, the story touches on issues of class, the patriarchy, homophobia, antisemitism, sexual liberation, conflicting art movements, the rise of fascism and, finally, the sadness of California pastels.
At first the song titles read like chapter headings: “Our Time” for the Russian revolutionaries; “Starting Over” for the now-expatriates Lempicka and her aristocratic husband Tadeusz (Andrew Samonsky); “Paris” for, er, Paris.
Finding themselves impoverished in the city of light, Lempicka develops her artistic skills. Befriended by a wealthy art patron (Nathaniel Stampley) and his wife (Beth Leavel), Lempicka begins studying with the founder of the Futurist art movement, Marinetti (George Abu), with whom she begins to find her artistic self, despite his dismissiveness. Meanwhile, her once-privileged husband sulks until he suddenly realizes in song that he’s been a jerk and decides to get a job.
But it’s not until Lempicka finds her muse — and lover — in the bohemian Rafaela (the charismatic Amber Iman) that the artist discovers her destiny — and the musical comes to life.
That relationship propels the musical into its much stronger and more interesting second act, showing a marriage that has evolved into accommodation, a daughter who yearns to be seen, a lover who demands recognition and a nightclub owner, Suzy (Natalie Joy Johnson, terrific), whose celebration of queerness is soon crushed.
Director Rachel Chavkin (“Hadestown”) keeps things moving amid Riccardo Hernandez’ deconstructive set design featuring a mix of (Eiffel) tower girders and streamlined staircases. Paloma Young’s costumes are often striking, mixing the modern with the moderne. The show’s unfolding history is relayed by Peter Nigrini’s projections, but oddly Lempicka’s artworks only appears in glimpses. Raja Feather Kelly’s choreography veers from exciting to distracting, sometimes stealing focus from the show’s star.
Gould’s music and Kreitzer’s lyrics offer an appealing rock-pop score that brings an often contemporary sound to the story, connecting eras. But some of the show’s most memorable musical moments go to the featured performers, leaving Espinosa to belt out the earnest-but-lesser power ballads. The best numbers include: “What She Sees,” a clever duet with both Lempicka’s lovers; Iman’s sizzling “Don’t Bet Your Heart;” Abud’s dynamic “Pari Will Always Be Pari;” and Johnson’s playful “Women.” Leavel is delightfully droll throughout and touching in the 11 o’clock number, “Just This Way,” a poignant call for the artist to move on. The show ends on an upbeat note with the realization of the contemporary empowered woman that the artist envisioned.
Lempicka was previously depicted on stage in the play “Tamara” by John Krizanc, which had a five-year run beginning in 1987 at New York’s Park Avenue Armory. The musical no doubt will further enhance the artist’s prominence, which had waned over the decades. But even as it works to cast Lempicka in a new light, this complex artist still remains just beyond the frame.
