Jeremy Cone

Jeremy Cone’s “The Field. A Musical Myth” began two years ago as spoken word poems from open mics in LA, and the latest incarnation in NYC’s Frigid Fest, is an excellent next step in a long artistic journey. With that in mind, the show does straddle the two genres of spoken word and musical theater in a way that suggests Cone’s journey with the piece may still have a ways to go before we might consider it cohesive.

The Field is a metaphorical tale of how we strive for goals, fail, get back up and ultimately succeed. Its message is that hard work and perseverance are the keys to success. Our story is told through rap, contemporary musical theater songs, and stock characters as The Thief, The Storyteller, and Man In The Field. The style is similar to a modern day rendition of The Fantasticks. There is a lot of heart in this show. The highlight of the piece is Rosie Sowa in the role of Harvest Woman, the embodiment of the main character’s goals. Clad in a dress of autumn leaves and playing the personification of life’s harvest, Sowa ties the world of the piece together with a realism that lives in each of her scenes. Not your typical musical theater razzle-dazzle performer, Sowa’s performance stands alone and challenges the audience with something a little more real. Another great part of the show was the music composed by Jeremy Cone, which was at times hauntingly beautiful in its simplicity. Audiences could see the work that went into the heartfelt writing, all of which rhymed, which transported us to a sort of fairy tale world. The ensemble of the piece was top notch, Emily Craver’s choreography shined especially on dancers Matt Magrath and Dennis Williams.

This was a musical fable, so I was looking for it to tell me something new about the world that I hadn’t heard before but in the end it didn’t. There were times when the piece seemed to take a detour from the plot and go into spoken word land which, from a theatrical standpoint, was a bit distracting. We build these characters up so the audience cares for them, and then somewhere in the middle we kind of leave their story to deliver some spoken word about he struggles of life. Which is wonderful, that's what the show is about essentially, but if the show lingers on the problem too much without moving forward, the the action becomes stagnant. From a theater maker’s standpoint, thats a great problem to have. It presents Cone with an opportunity to really refine what he wants this piece to say, look at each moment under a microscope and ask “is the moment essential to my message.” Thats the work of a great theater maker and Jeremy Cone has shown that he has the potential to be just that with his show, The Field, a Musical Myth. Keep going. - Off The Beaten Track

We strive as humans to create something and have it grow into something extraordinary. Whether it be an artistic endeavor or the development of land, tending to our work helps define who we are. Through obstacle after obstacle, the devotion to the cause makes the journey worth watching. In Jeremy Cone’s potential-filled The Field, a young man takes to an empty lot and watches it grow.
Billed as a musical myth with a mix of song and spoken world, The Field follows one man’s journey to cultivate something special. Created by Jeremy Cone, The Field is a daring new piece that resonates through its central themes. It’s immensely clear that The Field is a passion project for Cone. And through the passion, Cone wears an abundance of hats, serving as writer, performer, director, and producer. Like many pieces in the early developmental stages, there are flaws. But unlike many, The Field is sprouting with potential. But to bring it to its full potential, Cone may want to step back from some of his roles in the production in exchange for new collaborators and fresh eyes. Cone’s writing is simply stunning. His poetry is brimming with innate imagery. It’s one of the areas that Cone is safest. The other place is through his spoken word. Cone has an Eminem-like monotony when he rhymes that’s full of hunger and drive. There are songs in the piece that could easily be transported to radio today where he spits the rhyme and a singer gets the chorus. But when the music disappears and Cone enters the acting world, he becomes almost lifeless and stiff. If there was a way to split the Man in the Field into two characters, the man himself, who would take on the singing and acting, and his conscious, where Cone would continue with his spoken word, it would be the best of both worlds. As it stands now, trying to mimic the Lin-Manuel Miranda formula as writer-actor-rhymer may not be in the pieces best interest. The Man in the Field is the focal point of the show and requires a well-rounded performer that excels in all the areas.

To bring The Field to life, Cone has assembled an incredible ensemble of song and soul. Jasmine Thomas is a powerhouse vocalist who’s aura goes a long way as Mother Goddess. Cone didn’t need to place her on a rehearsal cube to portray her dominance, her voice did it for her. As Harvest Woman, Rosie Sowa brings beauty and vitality to the stage. As the object of The Man in the Field’s affection, metaphorically speaking, Sowa is princess-like in demeanor with a beautiful voice. Both Thomas and Sowa’s music collaborations are some of the highlights of the show. Briana Gibson, Matthew Magrath, Clare Rea, and Dennis Williams fill the stage vocally as the ensemble. You almost wish they were given more opportunity to shine. Though Magrath’s silver-toned voice did get some extra moments in the spotlight, giving a convincing reason as to why he and Cone could potentially split the role of The Man in the Field. Julie Congress as the Storyteller and Gregory Levine were sadly lost in Cone’s mythical world. But that may be due to the script.

Though spending the majority of the time on stage, Cone served as the piece’s director. Cone relied on the audience’s imagination to create a world behind him. And surprisingly, it worked. With the less is more theory, allowing the field to become personal to each person watching, connecting in an individual way. Cone did falter a bit when it came to staging, as purpose and motivation had little value. Additionally, the paper plants on the revolving doors lost the impact of the imagination direction Cone had taken. Choreographer Emily Craver showcased only a drop of the flourishing movement that could be used in this world. Knowing that it wouldn’t detract from the words, having choreography back Cone’s spoken words would be an added touch that would tie the various aspects together. Special recognition should be given to music director and arranger Lucian Smith for the magnificent arrangements. It was simple and beautiful, blending the styles together.
You can see the stunning future production just from the seeds Cone has planted. Once The Field discovers what exactly it is and the structure is further explored and cleaned up, The Field will be beautiful and could be revolutionary. - Theater In The Now

When writer/composer Jeremy Cone first got in touch with me about his show, The Field, which will have a performance at Dixon Place on November 6th at 7:30 pm, I imagined a piece with honey-tongued twangs and a folksy flair as gentle as a Southern breeze through sun-warmed crops. For an urbanite, this didn't exactly sound like my cup of (sweet) tea at first. But while cadences of The Field echo hands working the land, there is also a very modern beat to the show, taking a rustic set piece and infiltrating it with universal themes of ambition, progress, and hope for fruit to come of hard labor.

To learn more about what exactly The Field was about, I talked to Jeremy about what influenced The Field, what the road has been like to Dixon Place, and how further developing The Field brought him to New York.


Me: Tell us a little bit about your background with music, writing and performance. What did you study in school? How did you realize that you wanted to be a part of all three?

Jeremy Cone: I grew up with a piano I was always playing around on. I was a hummer, and I made up a lot of songs. My parents played a lot of musicals on casette tapes in the car, or on road trips, and I liked the songs, but I also liked the stories they were a part of. I was in various plays and musicals at school and Temple growing up. At my high school, every year there was a cast-written play that gave students a chance to write our own lines and storylines. I really enjoyed creating and playing a part, and helping shape the plot of the show. I realized that was what I wanted to do, and what I could do. In college, I wrote and directed a few musicals. This was the first time combining music with the writing, and a bit of performing. I combined all three because there’s more than one way to tell a story. I could do more with multiple methods of storytelling. It was also fun writing stuff for other people, and I enjoyed working with friends and new people to create something. It was really special. I studied theatre and writing, but by doing these musicals, I learned how to execute my ideas, and that gave me the confidence to try it with The Field.


Me: What other artists inspire you?

Jeremy: Stephen Sondheim is one of the greatest lyricists.

I saw Roger Waters perform The Wall Live and it was amazing. It was a concert but also very theatrical. A new kind of musical theatre. I wanted to try something like that.

Dr. Seuss wrote some very wise, but simple words.

Sam Spence wrote glorious epic music for NFL films.

They've all been influential and inspirational.


Me: What is The Field? What is it about, and how would you describe it as a piece?

Jeremy: The Field is a modern musical myth about going out into “The Field,” working some land and growing life. It’s a story told through poetry, music, singing, folk tales, and projected pictures. The story follows someone trying to grow something where there is nothing. He sees a vision of Harvest Woman who says she’ll be real only when The Field is grown. So he works for her to someday appear, but there’s a Thief in The Field who steals his crops and prevents that reality from happening. He must fight the Thief, and keep growing.


Me: What was the writing process like for The Field? Are there challenges of writing something that needs to integrate so many different mediums?

Jeremy: I took a lot of walks to write it. That’s how I write. It’s like chasing ideas. I was living in Los Angeles, which is a wide open place. I saw it as an open field, and I wanted to grow something in it. I also wanted to grow a lot personally and artistically, so I put those feelings into words, and songs. I first performed them as poems at a bunch of LA open mics and poetry venues to see if the words resonated with people. I liked being free to do the poems, but I also wished people could hear the music, too. Luckily, I met someone at an open mic in Venice named Dakota who helped me record and perform the music.

“The Field is full of moving people.
Sometimes a good few stop.They assist me with my crop.
We swap time and memories.
Together we grow.
Working on the land.
My life by our hand.”


Me: There is a modern, sort of R&B/hip hop feel to a lot of your songs, which was a little bit of surprise to me since The Field seems to have roots in older traditions of working the land and building things with your hands. How did you develop the music style for The Field, especially in light of the subject matter?

Jeremy: I wanted to write something for my voice. My singing voice isn’t very good, plus I can say more words in a verse than someone could sing. So there’s more room to work with lyrically.

I feel like The Field is an old story told in a new way. “Working the land” is what our ancestors did. It’s what many people do today. There’s a universal truth to it. It’s also a metaphor. We’re all still working on some piece of land. Sometimes the piece of land is a job, a career, a relationship, an education, or a life. It could be anything. The work we do helps us grow. That’s a theme of The Field, and that’s why it’s set in modern times.

Musically, there’s a lot of syncopation because I imagine someone striking the ground with a shovel, hoe, or pick-axe on the down-beat. I wanted to give it a blue grass feel, but also mix in folk music, for the story.


Me: What is it like performing your own work? How do you define your role in The Field on stage?

Jeremy: It’s surreal, and I’m really lucky every time I get to do it. It feels honest because it’s me saying my words, and telling my story. In many ways, I’m living the story. I’m working hard to grow The Field. Every rehearsal, every email, every event postcard. It’s funny to think something I wrote at 2 AM in LA, I’m now performing at 8 PM in New York City in front of a crowd. I always imagined doing this, and now I am. I planted the seeds, I’m doing the work, now The Field grows.

Onstage, I am The Man In The Field. That’s my character’s name.


Me: What has the road been like bringing the piece to Dixon Place, and where do you want to see it go afterward?

Jeremy: It’s been a journey. I began performing poems at open mics, and poetry spots in LA. I performed The Field for the first time with music in March 2013 in Venice, California. I performed it in New York City in June. That was a special show since that had many friends in it. Also some friends and family got to see my work. That show made me confident I could do it in New York. I wanted to be here, so I began submitting to various theaters across the city. Dixon Place accepted me, and I’m honored and thrilled to be doing this at such a great space.

I moved to NYC a month ago to keep growing The Field. I’ll be doing another show December 16th at Under St. Marks. I’m hoping to keep doing it live as a theatre show, and also as a music show. I aim to start putting out video content, and incorporating artwork. I also aim to record an album in the future. NYC is fertile ground for theatre, and I’m excited to see what grows here. - Emerging Musical Theater Blog

Low Down

Metaphorical field hands and ephemeral fertility goddesses (who may or may not exist) people this world of bleak landscapes and sisyphean futility, conjured through the power of spoken word, scattered imagery, and mixed genre pop-opera.

Review

Jeremy Cone has been hard at work, growing The Field for the past couple of years. Nurturing it from seeds originally planted in Los Angeles, and it has grown into quite an arresting performance. A modern mythology populated by mysterious figures like the Glasses Man and Harvest Woman, The Field concerns itself with life, ambition, age, and accomplishment. In this regard, it’s easy to see this work as a product of the post Generation X wasteland of early adulthood.

The entire work resonates with questions central to the culture of millennial uncertainty. There is an underlying anxiety born of all the insecurities endemic to our times, echoing back all the bleak hallmarks of the era: the economic hardships, the dwindling sense of self masked by all the myriad mass-marketed creature comforts we cloak our sadness in, the impossible standards of success and beauty we see stretched across the canvas of all the media we love so much… And yet within and behind all of that, perhaps because of it, hope faintly stirs, a tiny seed.

The evening’s production is not bereft of issues. Lighting gaps occurred, and spotty microphone coverage makes some of the lyrics unintelligible against the band in the soundbox of the Theatre Under St. Marks. There are also a lot of unmotivated exits, often in mid song. At times, the hand of the director is a little too visible in the actions of the ensemble as they feel the nonexistent dirt of The Field, or get too theatrical on us during spoken word moments, when the words are strong enough to stand on their own.

It’s clear Cone is invested emotionally in the show as he stalks around the stage, wincing during technical errors and stressing when things don’t go exactly to plan. As writer, director, producer, and performer, he’s definitely in the thick of it, and this is evident at times when he seems to be wearing his directorly anxiety on stage. Other times, though, this same passion carries him away despite himself and he becomes mesmerizing, spitting lyrics and spinning rhymes like someone tripping down stairs. At times like this his enthusiasm is contagious, and we find ourselves getting lost in the myths he weaves.

The ensemble add body to the music, filling in the chorus and creating lovely undertone and counterpoint to Cone’s lyrical styles opposite leading lady, Harvest woman who, by the way, is fantastic. Her ethereal appearance suits her otherworldly voice, floating to us like mellow wine or smooth honey whiskey. Now coy and elusive, now slyly flashing us a knowing smile, she is as believable as an idyllic goddess as Cone is as relentless persevering labourer. At times she goes all quiet and it’s hard to hear her as she turns away from the mic to sing, inexplicably, upstage, but apart from that, her performance is flawless.

The mother goddess (Sara Kliger) also boasts an impressive set of pipes as her voice weaves in and out throughout the performance. There is also a gypsy storyteller, Julie Congress, who pops in now and then to layer in story and poetry on top of the songs. And the People of the Field continually float in and out of the performance adding texture and depth. The band are on point from beginning to end, their musical style straddling bluegrass, hiphop, and rock. We especially appreciate the percussion, though every one of them manage to bring it throughout.

This is a really interesting piece, and one with loads of potential for further development. It’s a new sort of thing - sort of 8 Mile meets the farm; we think of Amish Rap, flavoured with childhood rhyme and fairytale, Seussian repetition, and vivid, surreal imagery. It’s a strange animal, kind of homegrown theatre that doesn’t abide the usual rules and conventions, and that’s a good thing. The Field’s not unwilling to take risks. It’s a mournful dirge, a cautionary tale. It urges us to pull off the glasses and take an objective look at ourselves to see if we come up wanting because, at the end of the day, we certainly have ourselves to blame if we don’t achieve our goals. But despite this essential optimism, these guys acknowledge that it’s a hard road to hoe, characterised by a relentlessly grinding sense of futility. And that, no matter how hard we may try, we aren’t all of us going to grow up to become rock stars.

Cone’s been doing this a while and at times it felt like it could use a little bit more of the anger it probably had in its early days, but it’s nowhere near tame. Thought provoking and unforgiving, The Field is a call to action, reminding us that, though the body wants comfort, the mind wants greatness. And that it’s only through utter commitment and uncompromising toil that we will achieve it. - FringeReview.UK