At Shakespeare: A ‘Garden’ Blooming With Hope

It’s surprising that a play — a musical, no less — about death, the loss of loved ones and the grieving process can turn into one of the holiday season’s most satisfying theatrical experiences.

I’m speaking of the musical adaptation of Frances Hodgson Burnett’s classic children’s book “The Secret Garden,” now getting an inventive, spirited and rewarding staging in a co-production by the Shakespeare Theatre Company and Seattle’s 5th Avenue Theatre. The show runs through Jan. 8 at Sidney Harman Hall.

“The Secret Garden” premiered 25 years ago with a beautiful score by Lucy Simon (sister of pop-rock star Carly Simon) and a book by playwright Marsha Norman, the queen of find-the-heartfelt-soul-in-somber-material. Norman penned the play “’night, Mother” and the musical version of “The Color Purple.” “The Secret Garden” won the 1991 Tony Award for best musical and charmed a generation of young and adult audiences, especially women weaned on Burnett’s book.

Now it’s back, slightly altered but no less full of high energy, charm and the fulfillment offered by renewal in the midst of sorrow. Another generation of young women is also here, their daughters in tow, though some of the material might be heavy going for the younger set, even pre-teens.

The opening scene, set during the British Raj in India, is a rush of catastrophe. Ten-year-old Mary Lennox is put to bed as her parents, decked out in impeccable evening gown and uniform, host a lavish diner party, only to quickly succumb to a deadly epidemic of cholera. The events are shockingly sudden, so much so that there’s hardly time for Mary — as well as the audience — to take in what’s happened.

In short order, Mary is sent to the large Manchester, England, estate of her uncle, who has been appointed her guardian. The uncle, the hunchbacked Archibald Craven, is himself in the midst of grieving, for his wife, the haunting and charismatic Lily, who died ten years before.

Mary arrives with no one to tend to her. Full of spirit and temper, she explores the estate, which includes an untended garden created by Lily, who makes a ghostly appearance. She and Mary’s parents, in their Raj regalia, serve as guides, providing a context that is quite moving (if spooky). This is especially true in the gentle manifestation of Lily — beautifully played and sung by Lizzie Klemperer — singing the memorable invitation “Come to My Garden.”

Mary is at the heart of things. She’s here to wake the place up after she meets the garrulous gardener Ben, the high-spirited Dickon and the no-nonsense, heart-of-gold chambermaid Martha, played by Daisy Egan — who won a Tony Award in the original production as Mary, when she was 11 years old.

There’s more than enough serendipity to go around with the presence of Anya Rothman, who combines an insistent spark with a child’s endearing charm as Mary. Rothman was in the national tour of “How the Grinch Stole Christmas: The Musical,” a show now at the National Theatre for a Christmas run.

Mary also meets her cousin Colin, quarantined by illness in his bed, but with a lot of life in him, thanks to Mary. She finds the key to the neglected garden, brings Colin into it and revives it with life and love. She also overcomes the machinations of Archibald’s resentful and scheming brother Neville, who wants the estate for himself.

The music that propels “The Secret Garden” forward pushes the narrative while bathing the audience in soaring duets, notably Archibald with the ghost of Lily and then with his brother. It’s an enveloping, hopeful atmosphere.

The sets and costumes — especially the dazzling Raj outfits and Lily’s gown — are almost another character. The garden as it develops from gnarling plainness to full flowers, the twisting stairs and steps of the huge house, all serve to bring the audience into Mary’s world as she moves from angry grief to a kind of action heroine.

If the holidays are about hope, then “The Secret Garden,” as a place and as a play, blooms with it.