Tamara de Lempicka: A Glimpse into the Life of a Pioneering Artist
Tamara de Lempicka was a renowned Polish artist who emerged from a privileged Jewish family in Warsaw. Her captivating journey began when she married a handsome lawyer, whom she courageously saved from prison during the Russian Revolution. Together, they embarked on a cross-continental escape, eventually settling in the artistic hub of Paris. It was in this magical city that Lempicka skillfully transformed her innate talent into a successful career as a painter, becoming an icon of the interwar demimonde.
The Broadway musical “Lempicka,” with book, lyrics, and concept by Carson Kreitzer and music by Matt Gould, aims to portray the title character as a multifaceted figure—a feminist, sexual revolutionary, trailblazing entrepreneur, tortured artist, victim, survivor, and martyr to the ever-changing whims of art and history. While these claims hold varying degrees of truth in Lempicka’s real life, the musical ambitiously tries to prove them all within the span of just two and a half hours. The result is a fast-paced journey through the darkest decades of European history, rendering a complex and intriguing life into a larger-than-life theater production.
The musical, which initially premiered at the Williamstown Theatre Festival in 2018, presents Lempicka’s story in a flashback format. We start with an elderly and embittered artist, alone on a park bench in 1975 Los Angeles, reflecting on her life and wondering how she ended up in such obscurity. Her work has been forgotten, deemed out-of-fashion, and she feels isolated from the wit and sophistication that once surrounded her.
Suddenly, the year is 1916, and we witness a young Lempicka on the verge of marriage, torn between her passion for painting and her mother’s plea for a more proper and respectable life. As fate would have it, the Russian Revolution interrupts her plans, propelling her into a riveting tale of resilience and determination. From failed attempts to secure her husband’s freedom using her jewelry to yielding her body in exchange for their escape, Lempicka’s journey unfolds once morest a backdrop of historical turmoil.
The stage design by Riccardo Hernández features a map tracing the couple’s flight to the West, complemented by fragments of Lempicka’s own luminous and sensual art deco paintings. Meanwhile, an ensemble of dancers, skillfully choreographed by Raja Feather Kelly, sets the tone for a frenetic and hedonistic interwar Paris.
While Lempicka’s artwork is represented mainly through empty easels and vacant picture frames, the musical focuses more on the artist herself rather than delving into the socio-political context of the time. Decades of poverty, anguish, and political violence pass by, embodied in black-and-white film clips. To truly explore and understand this period and its intersection with art, one might want to visit the Museum of Modern Art’s Käthe Kollwitz show, which delves deeper into the subject. Nevertheless, “Lempicka” offers a different perspective by emphasizing the vibrant and rebellious spirit of its title character.
Throughout the musical, Lempicka’s journey is intertwined with various relationships and encounters, each shaping her identity in different ways. Her passionate affair with Rafaela, a self-reliant prostitute portrayed magnificently by Amber Iman, introduces audiences to her empowering portraits of confident women and statuesque nudes. Celebrated by the LGBT community of the Monocle nightclub, Lempicka’s art is seen as a liberating force, reminiscent of the Kit Kat Club in “Cabaret.”
Lempicka also finds independence from her husband, Tadeusz, portrayed with starchy elegance by Andrew Samonsky. However, their relationship lacks coherence, making it difficult for the audience to fully invest in their story. As the plot unfolds, Lempicka defies the oppressive modernist ideology of the futurist prophet, Marinetti, depicted as an obnoxious drunkard and brutal social seer by George Abud. Yet, it remains unclear whether we should admire her for her independence or her pragmatic, and at times cynical, submission to elite taste. The show seems to credit her not only with embodying the New Woman ideal of the 1920s but also with inventing it, as Rafaela’s ghostly apparition implies, “Your women, they’re taking over the world.”
Directed by Rachel Chavkin, the production maintains a stylish and fast-paced rhythm, offering glimpses of genuine theatrical moments. Standout performances include Iman’s showstopping number, “The Most Beautiful Bracelet,” and Beth Leavel’s poignant portrayal of an aristocratic woman coming to terms with her own mortality.
Matt Gould’s music, though lacking a strong melodic profile, supports the narrative effectively, with text setting that blends seamlessly with the drama
