Shies Away From its Own Strengths: ‘Dedication’ Review

★★★✰✰

I will admit, I was a little fearful sitting down to watch Dedication at the Marylebone Theatre. When it comes to anything to do with Holocaust remembrance, public artworks, memorials, and performances, art can often fail to capture the poignancy and sense of profound loss that they are attempting to reach towards. My own family history is eerily similar to that of Roger Peltzman’s, like for many North American Jews, yet the performance stayed within a safe realm for me; with a great deal of emotional distance from the horrors it describes. However, such distance occasionally left the piece a bit lacking.

Roger Peltzman is an accomplished classical pianist. Yet, the piece only uses his remarkable talent three or four times. The writing finds excuses for the piano to be played, giving unnecessary narrative reasoning each time we are allowed to enjoy these short bursts of music. I was itching for more, especially since the piece culminates in a re-production of a Belgian recording of Chopin, honoring his uncle Norbert who was killed at Auschwitz; it is the first and only time we are permitted to really lose ourselves in the live music. The presentation of the family’s story is in essentially a lackluster powerpoint format, including cheesy graphics that undermine the simple beauty of the old family photographs. The piece longs for more dramaturgical richness, and as an audience member I found myself craving piano as a tool to create more emotive abstraction. 

It’s an absolute shonda that Peltzman’s musical talents are so underused in this piece, punctuating the narrative rather than playing a main part in it. As a performer, Peltzman is quite a neutral palette. Non-actors who perform as themselves can often be delightful to watch. They offer a refreshing honesty and lack of polish which is essential to a piece that explores a true and personal story such as this.Yet, the writing in this particular piece does not alleviate how one-noted Peltzman’s performance can often be. There is an occasional improvised, charming aside to the audience, which is the only variant in his performance. He does not deviate from Ted Talk-format, even when describing the darkest moments of his life. Why these difficult moments are not expressed using the piano, I will never know.

The challenges this piece takes on in the documentary-style and personal story of trauma are herculean ones to pull off with the “dignity, sorrow, panache” that they require. While Peltzman is an endearing and generous artist, the show’s writing misses every step in terms of emotional connection with the audience. The story is presented so mater-of-factly that important details are easy to miss altogether. When the solution seems so obvious (I wanted to shout, ‘play your gorgeous piano more!’) it can be frustrating.

Overall, it’s hard not to appreciate the difficulty and tenderness required to share a personal family story of such trauma. I only wish this piece used its own form in a way that better served the emotion it deals with.

Words by Talia Kracauer

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