Madeleine Rose Yen, David Lansbury, Tessa Klein in WAR HORSE. (Photo Credit: Paul Kolnik)

At a Wednesday matinee performance in March, Lincoln Center’s Vivian Beamount Theatre is packed. Understandably so, given that today’s production is War Horse, the play that swept the 2011 Tony Awards. It won all five of its nominations, including the coveted award for Best Play, and a Special Tony Award for the Handspring Puppet Company for the now iconic and unmistakable horse puppets. War Horse is infamous for being one of the hardest tickets in town, especially after two sold-out runs at the National Theatre in London, and its continual run on the West End. And although, yes, the play itself is remarkable in its own right, today I have placed my focus on the music in the production, an element of War Horse that is both surprising, and rarely seen elsewhere in modern American stage dramas.

The lights dim, the audience quiets, and the music begins. Soft, at first, yes. But as birds swoop through the audience, their chirps begin a soft, melodic tune. A single male cast member emerges from upstage and begins to sing. The song seems meaningful, thoughtful, and thought provoking, but we must wait to know its meaning for sure, seeing as War Horse has only just begun. The song grows louder, rising into a chorus of many more than just one. Soon, thirty-some cast members appear out of the fog and soot that covers the stage to join in one voice. Here, before us, stands the entire cast of War Horse, singing. But isn’t this a play? Yes, but at the same time, it is more than that. In War Horse, music is used to bolster the plot, flavor the performance, and keep us questioning. And it is the subtle, thoughtful, and beautiful music used, as well as the puppets and numerous other creative elements, that makes Lincoln Center Theater’s War Horse not just a play, but a theatrical experience unlike any other.

At rise, Albert Naracott is introduced as the owner and friend of Joey, a thoroughbred on the Naracott farm. But at the outbreak of World War I, Joey is sold to cavalry and shipped to France to pay the farm’s mortgage. Albert is underage and not permitted to fight, but promises Joey that they will be together again soon. And after years of fighting when Joey’s whereabouts become uncertain, Albert joins the army to find him. Both embark on torturous odysseys to find one another, and of course, in the end, they do.

The music, when sung, is soft, melodic, and gentle. It is slow. It feels like a story is being told. It sounds native to England, to the time period, and to the story, while still remaining general in its lyrics. With soaring, sharp, and staccato low notes, the music gives the sensation of tiredness, overwork, exhaustion. It sounds like the war being fought: seemingly never-ending, yet still moving ahead. The rhythm feels like the slow chug of a train before it really gets going.

Strategically placed throughout, the directors of War Horse have perfectly chosen musical selections for this story. Not only is this music a party of the story, it is the story. And it feels just right.

Yes, War Horse is classified as a play, with the majority of its focus on the text and the story, without much use of song to progress the plot and advance the feelings of its characters. But here and there, the directors, Marianne Elliott and Tom Morris, have decided to sprinkle in music to bolster the performance. It is never clear if the music used in War Horse is original music written for the production, or if songs of the period are used. Original or not, the music provides clear meaning, while still remaining mysterious. And, that being said, there are no specifically noted songs, per say, in the production. Rather, music is used as just another element of the performance, like the puppets and the actors, breathing life into the story, and appearing throughout.  And the lyrics used are not specifically about a horse, or a war, or this specific plot-line whatsoever. It is broader than that, focusing more on the brotherhood of the inhabitants of not only Devon, England where the story originates, but also of the inhabitants of the world.