Tony-Winning ‘Stereophonic’ Finally Comes Home to the Bay Area

A silver microphone hovers behind soundproof studio glass, just above the singer, amplifying her velvet pipes for the album it will soon occupy for posterity. But despite her voice’s celestial sheen, imperfections built from pressures and brutal insecurities derail take after take, and turn her microphone into an unreachable deity.

In the masterful production of the 13-time Tony-nominated play Stereophonic, Diana’s unnamed 1970s rock band faces a reckoning while recording a follow-up to their massively successful breakout album. Working long hours within the wood-paneled walls of a recording studio in Sausalito, personal and creative conflicts directly parallel the infamous process of recording Fleetwood Mac’s iconic 1977 album Rumours. While every guitar lick and rock groove contains self-inflicted wounds and pressure, plenty of pot and cocaine is passed around.

Playwright David Adjmi paints the talented, narcissistic scruff Peter (Denver Milord) as uber-driven for success, his relationship with Diana (Claire DeJean) massively compromised by his constant belittling. When Reg (Christopher Mowod) isn’t handling the bass, he’s undergoing a renaissance of the soul since going sober. And in a common theme, a lack of family support hits tempo-challenged drummer Simon (Cornelius McMoyler) hard.

This era of rock (the play spans 1976–77) is an alpha world, which challenges the two women in the band, singers Diana and Holly (Emilie Kouatchou). All of this dysfunction lands in the lap of an unseasoned sound engineer, Grover (Jack Barrett), and his chatty, wide-eyed assistant Charlie (Steven Lee Johnson).

Director Daniel Aukin’s staging oscillates between the high energy of a perfect take and the static dullness of waiting around. Fights about personal relationships and album details get hashed out on the couches and plush pillows of David Zinn’s tremendous scenic design.

Aukin is at his best with Stereophonic’s pacing. If the play feels slow in moments, it’s in service of experiencing the band’s self-immolation in real time. Realistically, recording studios are sites of mostly waiting around, and for a band like the one in Stereophonic, sacrificing mental health and all relationships with the real world to achieve musical nirvana on tape always happens gradually.

Early in the play, before we’ve heard any songs, it’s easy to wonder what this all means. The fights, the stresses and the sacrifices have to be for something. When Diana layers on a bit of a belt in a slower-tempo version of her composition “Bright,” or when the song “Masquerade” finally comes together, just notice the perfect harmony of a band who understands what it takes to craft music at a high level. These are the times when the play soars, built upon the ’70s-styled rock songs of Arcade Fire’s Will Butler.

Then there’s Stereophonic’s technical wizardry. Jiyoun Chang’s lighting design is a setter of moods, pairing beautifully with Ryan Rumery’s snazzy sound design. Working the knobs of the giant mixing console, Grover and Charlie are stoned masters, even while being bossed around into successive all-nighters.

Here in the Bay Area, there’s something special about seeing Stereophonic — a co-production between ACT and BroadwaySF — finally performed in its spiritual home. The studio is clearly modeled after the Record Plant in Sausalito, where Fleetwood Mac recorded Rumours. Band members take breaks to eat at Juanita’s, the famed Sausalito restaurant-slash-three ring circus run by the region’s most colorful owner and chef. There’s also a terrific vintage T-shirt (period costumes were designed by Enver Chakartash) from a venerable San Leandro sports bar, some potent weed from Santa Cruz, and references to Tiburon, Stinson Beach and Oakland.

Yet nothing speaks to Sausalito like houseboats. When Reg delivers what’s become one of the show’s famous monologues about the thrill of the city’s houseboat community, he manages to pin down just why the band has sacrificed so much. Otis Redding famously sat on the dock of the Bay among Sausalito’s houseboats, wasting time, just like the band does. “I want to live in art,” Reg gleefully declares — but to live in art means living within the torture of striving for immortal heroism.

That may be Stereophonic’s ultimate lesson: While mere mortals are abundant, our heroes of rock ‘n’ roll stand alone.

‘Stereophonic’ runs through Nov. 23 at the Curran Theatre (445 Geary St.) in San Francisco. Tickets and more information here.