An unusually charming theatrical variation on an eternal theme, I Became We is a curiously beguiling work from writer Mona Pirnot in collaboration with composer Jack D. Coen. Their new and often delightful music-theater piece regards issues and anxieties that upscale married couples tend to share during their first years. Premiering Tuesday in an elegant production staged by Sarah Benson for Atlantic Theater Company, I Became We proves more unusual in its 70-minute format than it does in its highly relatable story and melodious score.
The sung-through piece is fashioned as a choral suite — a cycle of songs —performed by a splendid 16-member choir. Dressed formally in black suits or gowns, the singers are arranged along several risers across the stage of the Linda Gross Theater. Over to one side glimmers a beautiful Steinway concert grand piano, played by Blair McMillen. The composer conducts the choir, who simply stand forth with their scores in hand and sing. Above everybody, the lyrics by Pirnot and Coen are projected as supertitles in black and white along a thin horizontal bar.
Presumably drawn from Pirnot’s experiences as a working writer — her previous plays such as I’m Assuming You Know David Greenspan are autobiographical — this lightly humorous saga of an artsy New York couple is presented from the woman’s point of view. The very first words the choir intones are: “I saw a segment on “Jimmy Kimmel Live!” called, What Do You Know About the Female Body?” The lyrics go on amusingly to describe the average guy-in-the-street’s ignorant responses even as the music assumes an oratorio-like grandeur.
Not knowing an answer in the quiz, the narrator goes to Google to research 30s-something reproduction and plunges down a rabbit’s hole on fertility. Although she and her “jumpy and nervous” husband declare, “Good thing we’ve always been so sure that we don’t want kids,” she harbors second thoughts. A barbecue in Brooklyn with chums utterly consumed by screaming offspring confirms the couple’s decision to remain childless — or does it?
Subsequent segments in the song cycle refer to the ceaseless, caffeinated meetings relating to Pirnot’s career (“There is no time for writing. Not with all these meetings.”); the couple’s social circle (“We talk about friends who’ve had lots of success and we say that they’re so overrated”); Pirnot’s close relationship with her genius mother (“my mom’s an alpha geek”); the couple’s house-hunting in Beacon and Cold Spring (“a place to have our coffee in the morning with our bare feet in the grass”) led by a perky agent named Ashley; and similar domestic instances that many a devoted twosome can recognize (“Home with my husband, finally alone/ We can breathe easy, we’re on our own”).
Perhaps this description suggests banality, but that’s the work’s stealthy charm, as everyday statements such as “I’m waiting for an Uber just outside the Delta terminal” are elevated by the formality of the graceful score and the layered, harmonious performances of the singers into something special. Intimate moments involving Pirnot’s loved ones prove touching. Arranged and orchestrated by Coen, the often-lush music is crafted in a variety of quasi-classical styles. Their harmonies can be striking, especially barbershop quartet-type a cappella sequences. Sharply synced with the upbeat score, the supertitles aids listeners in discerning the lyrics amid rich choral sonorities. (My sole quibble is that a certain word should be correctly spelled “whoa” and not “woah,” as it appears here.)
Under the astute simplicity of Benson’s staging, the choristers are not choreographed nor do they act out roles as characters; they are singers, period; and firmly grounded in warm bass vocal lines, the music they make is a ceaseless pleasure on the ear. Designed by Tuçe Yasak, the lighting subtly shifts intensities but usually fosters a golden glow over the choir and McMillen, whose artistry at the Steinway provides excellent support. Designer Mimi Lien’s setting showcases the artists against the theater’s ruddy brick environs.
On one hand, I Became We is a little story about educated, reasonably well-off, white people’s problems in the metropolis, so it may not appeal to everyone’s social conscience. On the other, a sophisticated chamber musical of this quality is a rare event and should be grabbed with both hands.
I Became We opened October 27, 2026, at the Linda Gross Theater and runs through November 15. Tickets and information: atlantictheater.org
