20 Seconds – 19 September 2023

20 Seconds is Thomas Sweitzer’s one-man autobiographical journey. With a poignant focus on living with difficult parents and being saved by music (and kindness), Sweitzer uses familiar solo show techniques to portray himself and a full cast of characters. He uses props and set pieces to differentiate between the different adults in his life, and all of the roles are clearly established and easy to discern.

Now a music therapist, Sweitzer wove together the challenging moments of his life by portraying the moments that other children find to be challenging (going to Sunday school, learning piano, being in a school play) as the best moments of his childhood. Sweitzer’s concerns were more significant than those of his peers, yet effortlessly universal to the audience of adults in the theatre who have a less idyllic worldview and a better understanding of what goes on behind closed doors. The story starts out fairly generic and universal, then strays down a dark path of increasing specificity as Sweitzer enumerates his abusive father and homicidal mother in haunting detail. This comes to a head when his father, who lives with paranoid schizophrenia, finally starts getting legitimate mental health help and Sweitzer finds it in his heart to forgive him.

Throughout the story, Sweitzer talks about practicing the piano constantly, about music getting him out of his abusive home, about the power that music held over him. Yet when he sits at the piano on this stage, he seldom plays more than 20 seconds of material. This particular embodiment of the title seems forced. It doesn’t allow a musical arc in any of the pieces. Sometimes when Sweitzer sits at the piano, he steps into the role of another character in the journey, and does not sing or act as himself. Every time Sweitzer sat at the piano, I was expecting musical brilliance. Yet he stuck to repertoire that was simple, familiar, and, at times, disappointingly generic.

Thinking about it several days later, I find myself realizing how deliberate this was. Sweitzer chose pieces that anybody can learn to play, or at least readily recognize. This nuance hammered home the idea that music therapy is accessible to anyone and everyone—not just virtuosos, not just composers, not just performers. As a performer, Sweitzer sold himself short and sacrificed his opportunity to share his musical talent. But, importantly, he spent this solo show as a person, not a performer. He boldly told an audience about his darkest moments, while leaning into musical simplicity to remind them that they can be okay—even if they are just like him.

I attended this performance on a free ticket from Show-Score.