The Visitor: Listen, and Humanity Has a Fighting Chance.
The Visitor at The Public Theater bares the searing reality that the American government denies asylum seekers a safe haven. The adaptation of film to musical is a risk because it is not a buoyant fanfare that lets you forget about what’s happening outside. It elicits questions about what can be done to shelter people, that we may be complicit in harming, as they seek refuge from our money wars. The benefit is that we see the lives of immigrants affected, as well as the struggle that true allies face when attempting (as they learn) to right institutional wrongs.
Walter (David Hyde Pierce) is an economics professor who never stopped working after the death of his wife. He’s been offered a sabbatical many times but refuses to take it. Instead he comes to class, a ghost in his own life, standing in front of his students quietly mining through the lesson plans in his head. Like most people living in a capitalist society, the objective is to “keep going.” Walter is an Everyman archetype that represents middle class Americans.
As he is teaching within the steel walls of this university, video projections (Hana S. Kim and David Bengali) of scribbled notes, graphs, and economics vocabulary appear across the back wall. Sounds (Jessica Paz and Sun Hee Kil) heard in the background are voices from Wall Street rattling off the changes in the price index of oil and other market goods. There is a noticeable contrast between the rising dollar and the confused hustle and bustle of humans moving on stage. Ever so often, time slows down as Walter grumbles at his students for not paying attention or he is lost in nostalgia.
When he decides to return to his apartment in New York City, he is startled by Zainab (Alysha Deslorieux) and Tarek (Ahmad Maksoud) who have moved in. Fearful, they swiftly gather their belongings and leave confused and disappointed that they have been swindled by Tarek’s friend. After learning they have no place to go Walter agrees they can stay.
Walter learns that Zainab makes and sells jewelry on the streets of New York and Tarek is a busker who plays his drum in subway stations and drum circles. While Walter offers his apartment to them, Tarek teaches him how to play the drum. They make a connection through the music and with each beat Walter works through the grief of losing his wife.
Tarek is life — the heartbeat of the party: charismatic, joyful, young, and loving. Zainab is a sweet soulful melody, the epitome of strength who is wise to be cautious of outside help. While the story is rooted from the perspective of Walter — a white man, it’s the lives of Tarek, Zainab, and the ensemble (a diverse cast of people of color), that reject the notion that the story is just about a white man with a savior complex; he couldn’t save himself. Tarek is Walter’s savior, which gives Walter more urgency to help when Tarek is arrested and detained for jumping a subway turnstile.
Because the media spoke at great length about Mexicans at the border, as loud as the cries were for the horrific practices by the Amerian government and ICE, I did not consider that Haitians, Asians, Africans (the entire continent), South Americans were also being rounded up, caged, and deported. The casting of this production justly offers consideration of other visitors trapped in the border war.
The quality (not singing ability) of Tarek and Zainab’s voice compared to Walter’s illuminates the necessity of an inclusive and accepting America if one desires harmony and peace. Through their being, they bring out the colors in Walter, and help him see the vibrant world he once knew.
It is mentioned by Zainab that Mouna (Jaqueline Antaramian), Tarek’s mother, doesn’t like their relationship. Mouna later says it’s because “I wanted him to be safe.” The picture of these three: a fair-skinned Syrian woman, her brown-skinned son, and his Black Senegalese partner struck a chord.
What she meant by “safe” is not expanded on in the course of the story, but for some audience members this is a familiar subtext meaning “white-presenting.” When Mouna and Zainab share their love of and dedication to Tarek, their wounds are tended to, but not fully mended. White Privilege is not solely afforded to Walter, but exist in the ideas Mouna carries based in the construct that is white supremacy.
The choreographed number that is most exciting and grounded for this story is in a business conference where performers flip pages creating a new percussive instrument. It stays in the context of the scene and is fascinating to witness paper animate a score of movement. If you’re a fan of STOMP, this number is a vibe.
The monumental scenic design (David Zinn) is powerful, reminding us of the many prisons we can exist in: school, work, subways, detention centers, etc. As the steel bars move away and Walter’s apartment appears, it is evident that home is the only place we might truly feel free. The challenge they all face is creating and maintaining that. Then again, nothing is permanent, we are all visitors here on earth.
One of the lessons learned through Walter’s study of the drum with Tarek is that Music is universal and healing. The beat of the drum is within us all as our hearts beat; some need a little assistance to find it. It is rare, in a bustling city or the hustle to meet outside demands at increasing speeds, we congregate, release, and breathe with each other. In The Visitor the drum circles provide us with those much needed moments of synchronicity as well as articulating the progress Walter makes in reconnecting with his own lost heart.
Music Improvisation Rule #1: Listen the Respond. The Visitor begins in a school classroom, and if you pay attention, you might learn (or be reminded) that there are people in our city streets that have stories and lives we never consider or hear about. Lending a helping hand can also bring us out of our darkest moments. There was an instrumental refrain reminiscent of Coldplay’s The Scientist and, whether it was real or imagined, it felt appropriate because the importance of “going back to the start” of why this story is necessary now is obvious. While things are “returning,” we are very much at the beginning of a new start. If we make the effort to look outside ourselves and listen, open our hands and come together, Humanity has a fighting chance.
