“there is sometimes a lack of variation to the musical numbers and as a result the show starts to suffer from trying to survive on a diet of power ballads”
“The Broken Wings”, Khalil Gibran’s poetic novel has inspired paintings and pop songs. It has been adapted into a film and now a musical – which is probably the most natural evolution for a novel rich in musical references and rhythmical text.
The tale follows Khalil Gibran, living in 1923 in New York, as he reflects on his life and his experiences in the Middle East as an eighteen-year-old who has returned to turn-of-the-century Beirut, after five years living in America, to complete his education and retrace his heritage. He falls in love with Selma Karamy, the daughter of a family friend. However, Selma is betrothed to another man; the nephew of the powerful Bishop whose eye is on the Karamy family fortune.
‘Broken Wings’ has sometimes been described as the ‘Romeo and Juliet’ of the Middle East, so it is fair to say that the young couple’s romance is doomed, as they fight to reconcile their love for one another in the face of the rules, traditions and expectations that their society lays on them.
Written by Nadim Naaman and Dana Al Fardan it is faithfully adapted from Khalil Gibran’s novel. Gibran’s views on love, marriage, children, joy, pain, death and loss are today all too familiar. They hang on the walls of homes and sit on bedside tables and are preached at weddings and funerals. Yet when it was first published in 1912 it was met with hostility in the eastern Mediterranean for its treatment of religious corruption, the rights of women and the pursuit of wealth over personal happiness. The musical successfully highlights the key social issues of the time, reminding us too that they are just as relevant today, over a century later.
Naaman guides us through the story with a speaking voice, rich and assured, while effortlessly sliding into song. His younger counterpart (Rob Houchen) shares the same quality but with an added purity that no doubt reflects the wide-eyed hope and stoicism of the teenage Gibran as the first waves of suffering lap around his ankles before the tide threatens to pull him under. Houchen is well matched by Nikita Johal’s Selma, whose versatility allows her to breathe tender notes before riding the crest of a crescendo with an ease that belies her slight physicality. The harmonies are strong, especially so when the full ensemble take to the stage.
Yet the real star is orchestrator and conductor, Joe Davison, who leads the nine strong band through the evening. A masterful musical director his baton is on the pulse throughout. The musical arrangements are haunting and quite beautiful. However, there is sometimes a lack of variation to the musical numbers and as a result the show starts to suffer from trying to survive on a diet of power ballads. The highlights, for me, occur when the melodic modes and influences of the East shine through. I was expecting more of this within the score.
This is a beautiful and well-crafted show; rich in atmosphere that is heightened further by Nic Farman’s sumptuous lighting. It is evocative and true to Gibran’s themes, yet like a postcard platitude that many of his words have become, it triggers the mind without really gripping the heart. Full of Eastern promise yet veiled by oversweet Western appropriation.
