Scene from the play Songs of a Prairie Girl, created by Jim Guedo

Tribute falls short for songstress/artist Joni Mitchell

Songs of a Prairie Girl
NAC Studio

You can take the girl out of the prairie, but not vice versa. That message rings loud and clear in Songs of a Prairie Girl, Jim Guedo's loving musical portrait of iconic Canadian songstress and painter Joni Mitchell. The revue-style show, which Guedo directs, is simultaneously a toast to Saskatchewan as seen through the eyes of Mitchell, who was raised there.

Engaging but not ultimately satisfying, the two-hour show is part of Prairie Scene, the celebration of the arts and culture of Manitoba and Saskatchewan that continues in Ottawa until May 8.

Six female performers, each representing different aspects of Mitchell, sing and talk us through a roughly chronological account of the artist's life. Braid-wearing Alyssa Billingsley, for example, is the spiky, slightly awkward Mitchell, Amy Matysio the girl who dances at the drop of a hat.

Christine MacInnis acts as the main narrator, often perched on a stool. The unlit cigarette in her hand reminds us that Mitchell is an unabashed, lifelong puffer whose remarkable vocals get some of their smoky singularity from her addiction.

At the rear of the stage, surrounded by a large, rough-hewn picture frame, a video screen accompanies the story with images of Mitchell -some of them self-portraits -along with prairie scenes, overly long newsreel footage of the Second World War (Mitchell was born in 1943), and more. The rest of the set by Stephen Wade, who also did the lighting, consists of a couple of wooden chairs and a ramped platform. Its simplicity leaves us to focus on the story and music, but it needs more colour and definition.

Early on we meet the young Mitchell, already restless and inquisitive.

She's someone who doesn't quite fit into her surroundings and already seems hypersensitive to the deeper rhythms of life and art. "I sing my sorrow, I paint my joy," she tells us early in the show.

Mitchell's paean to adolescence, Ray's Dad's Cadillac, rocks us through the roaring hormones of her teenage years and reminds us that the early 1990s tune was part of Mitchell's return to a more accessible style after her forays into jazz. "Rock 'n' roll in the dashboard/Romance in the back," sing the performers, evoking an unspoken comparison between the safe and banal popular music of the 1950s and Mitchell's own complex artistic adventuring.

Songs like Don Juan's Reckless Daughter, the long Paprika Plains that doesn't translate very comfortably to a stage show, and a gorgeous rendering of A Case of You that spotlights Leora Joy Godden nailing the song's mix of tenderness and drama accompany us through the rest of Mitchell's life.

Stay in Touch frames the story of her 1997 reuniting with Kilauren Gibb, the daughter Mitchell gave up for adoption in 1965.

The six performers, including Jacklyn Green and Vesti Hanson, get most of Mitchell's music right. None makes the mistake of trying to sound exactly like Mitchell, but together and singly they do meet the challenges of her melodies and convey the rich textures and arresting delivery that are uniquely hers.

Unfortunately, the music under David Sereda is jacked up too loudly.

That's a particular problem because not all the performers' voices carry equally well.

Most of the women are also better singers than actors, giving the show an uneven feel. The production is also too long, maybe because Mitchell herself added songs after reading Guedo's original treatment. Those hiccups are heightened by Guedo's workmanlike but uninspired staging.

You leave the show with a deeper appreciation of Mitchell the artist and the woman. You understand how the vastness of Saskatchewan has informed her work with a sense of both possibility and isolation. But the show's weaknesses prevent it from being as rewarding as it might have been.

Songs of a Prairie Girl continues until May 7. Tickets: NAC Box Office, 1-888-991-2787, prairiescene.ca.