
DATE: Thursday, September 25, 1997          TAG: 9709261108

SECTION: DAILY BREAK             PAGE: E3   EDITION: FINAL 

SOURCE: BY TERESA ANNAS, STAFF WRITER 

                                            LENGTH:  124 lines

``STRINGS'' IS A LESSON IN HISTORY

Appalachian Strings,'' the play with music opening Friday at Wells Theater, is as authentic as a new patchwork quilt sewn from grandma's old clothes.

That is to say, it's something new pieced together from something old.

Every word spoken on stage was lifted from recordings made in the early part of this century in rural America. And every song was adapted or made up by backwoods people whose only stage may have been their own front porch.

But that porch probably faced some ridge along the southern Appalachian mountains, which turned out to be fertile ground for such homegrown music.

Among the professional actors, musicians, dancers and singers who populate this show are a few true natives.

Balladeer Molly Andrews came by her ``high lonesome'' sound honestly. She was born in Bluefield, W.Va., where her grandfather, a miner, died of black lung disease at age 32.

She sings several a capella songs, or tunes with no accompaniment. It's the sort of mournful wailing that Hazel Dickens made familiar to a broader public in recordings and in films like John Sayles' ``Matewan.''

One such a capella tune Andrews sings is called ``The West Virginia Mining Disaster.'' What is she thinking as she puts across lines about untimely death way down in the hole?

``I think of my people. Yes, and all the people. And what they've been through, and what they go through.

``Because, it's not over.''

Director Randal Myler has helped bring to life several musical theater pieces, including ``Appalachian Strings,'' and each of them has smashed stereotypes.

There was his Hank Williams musical called ``Lost Highway,'' which just completed its second long run at famed Ryman Auditorium in Nashville. Then he put together ``Love, Janis: The Songs and Letters of Janis Joplin,'' which premiered at the Denver Center Theater, where Myler has been an associate artist for 15 years.

Then, in 1995, he and co-creator Dan Wheetman built what has been dubbed ``a bluegrass musical'' from the lives and music of Southern mountain folk. The piece tells the story of this music's development, from its roots in Ireland to its adaptations in the new world.

Each time, as Myler has delved deeply into a subject, his eyes were opened.

``It was really not who I expected Janis Joplin to be. It wasn't what I expected Hank Williams to be like.'' Neither were those West Virginia hill people anything like the hillbilly caricatures, he says.

``When you spend some time in the hills, you see how hard-working and fiercely proud these people are.''

The show expresses the people's exasperation over being made into cartoons. ``We have been Dogpatch-ed and Beverly Hillbilly-ed to death,'' one character says.

Myler saw for himself that these mountain people had a rich culture and that ``the true poverty in America is forgetting where you came from, and who you are.''

The show is about half music and half script. Characters dance together and interact. But for the most part, dialogue consists of characters directly addressing the audience.

Myler calls it a ``cumulative evening.'' The first half of the show is mostly light-hearted. The second half takes on a woeful edge, as the audience enters the darker realm of the miner.

Myler first met co-author Wheetman in 1986, when he was directing the national tour for a show called ``Quilters.''

``And everybody said, `Call John Denver's fiddler.' '' That was Wheetman.

As advertised, Wheetman could play a zillion instruments, and in many styles. Being a regular on the folk festival circuit, he knew so many of the great traditional musicians, too.

Wheetman knew about Molly Andrews. ``She has that `high lonesome' sound,'' Myler said. ``It's a sound so far back in the hills, and so deep.''

As Andrews put it, ``It's pure, straight tone, not a lot of vibrato, with a kind of piercing quality.''

The creators sought other performers who could put across that authentic West Virginia sound. They felt fortunate to nab Bob Burrus, a renowned character actor and an Appalachian native.

Then they heard about dancer Sandy Silva, whose percussive dance repertoire spans traditional Irish and southern Appalachian.

``Everyone said to us, `Sandy's the one you want.' ''

Lovers of the ``Riverdance'' style of Irish dancing may be intrigued by Silva's version.

Riverdance is ``high-kicking, competitive stuff,'' said Silva, a thin, fit woman. Whereas, her own moves are very Irish but more geared to personal expression.

Silva is a versatile performer. For 13 years, she has worked as a dancing percussionist with Irish bands, touring worldwide. In such settings, the tap sound of her step dancing functions as an instrument.

She's also studied flamenco in Spain and men's boot dancing in Hungary. By studying dances in their context, ``you learn how culture is reflected in the movement.''

The Celtic or Irish dancing has an ethereal feeling, she suggested. ``And you feel as though a puppet is pulling you from the ceiling. Also, because the houses were so small, their hands were kept close by their sides.''

In the new world, step dancing mixed with African moves to become Appalachian clogging. The dancing becomes more earthbound.

By show's end, Silva is tap dancing - that showy, urban offshoot of clogging.

She's watched expert flatfoot dancing and clogging, and she's learned it's not so easy as it looks. You have to live the dance.

``That's when you realize somebody's so good at what they're doing. You almost see a lifetime in there, you know?'' ILLUSTRATION: Photo

HUY NGUYEN/The Virginian-Pilot

Among the ``Appalachian Strings'' cast are, from left, ``Strings''

co-creator Dan Wheetman, Megan McFarland and Melinda Deane.

Graphic

WANT TO GO?

What: ``Appalachian Strings,'' a play with music presented by

Virginia Stage Company

Where: Wells Theater, Monticello Avenue and Tazewell Street,