Hedy Weiss
May 18, 2007
Chicago Sun-Times

'FIRE ON THE MOUNTAIN'

In a handmade quilt, each little piece of fabric tends to come with a story, and out of the grand design created by stitching all those individual pieces together an even deeper and more nuanced history can emerge.

This is precisely what occurs in "Fire on the Mountain," the richly evocative, emotion-seared "musical quilt" that opened Wednesday at Northlight Theatre. A feast of bluegrass, blues, protest songs and plaintive ballads -- all with that irresistible American roots sound that proved so winning in the film "O Brother, Where Art Thou?" -- this seamless 90-minute show captures the spirit and history of the men and women who have long called the Appalachian coal mining communities of West Virginia their home.

Director Randal Myler and co-creator Dan Wheetman, who previously collaborated on "It Ain't Nothin' but the Blues," have meticulously patched together three dozen traditional songs. With eight singer-actor-musicians bringing an unusual authenticity to the material -- and projections of archival photographs adding eloquence and gravitas to the production -- they have conjured all aspects of the mining life. The trick of it all is that it never feels like a civics lesson. "Fire on the Mountain" catches the heat of a very particular time, place and group of people.

You sense the fire from the very start as Molly Andrews delivers a thrilling a cappella rendition of "Hard Working Miner," and as the rest of the cast -- Jason Edwards, Mississippi Charles Bevel, Tony Marcus, Lee Morgan, Mike Regan, Ed Snodderly and Margaret Bowman (a formidable maternal figure) -- gathers for a rousing, clog-dancing-infused performance of the title song.

The show has a subtle chronological structure, with impoverished, hard-scrabble farmers selling corporations the "mineral rights" to their land for pennies, and getting nothing but life-threatening work at near-starvation wages in return. The work ultimately will ravage their bodies (with black lung) and their beloved land (with strip-mining).

Bevel sings "Coal Loadin' Blues" and the classic union song "Which Side Are You On?" with fervor. Edwards recounts the tragic tale of a miner blinded by a faulty drill chain and then abandoned by his employer. In a scene reminiscent of the recent Sago mining disaster, three men sing "Shut Up the Mines of Coal Creek," as Andrews offers the heartbreaking prayer for men who might very well have been buried alive.

All along the way, the performers' haunting voices are backed by their own accompaniment on guitar, fiddle, banjo and a harmonica, with Vicki Smith's rustic set and Don Darnutzer's superb lighting adding atmosphere. A little beauty of a show.