‘Travels’ Review: A Sonic Flight From Heartbreak

Some ride-share passengers are content to wear headphones and gaze out the window. But anywhere that James Harrison Monaco goes, including the back seat of a Lyft, presents an opportunity to zero in on someone else’s story.

In the first segment of “Travels,” Monaco’s new autobiographical show that opened at Ars Nova in Manhattan on Monday, the playwright and performer tells the audience that he was itching to talk on a recent ride from the Los Angeles airport when the driver handed him an audio cable so he could put on music, opening the door to conversation. Their exchange, Monaco says breathlessly, peeled off like a speeding car.

Monaco’s dogged curiosity, and affinity for electronic beats, propels much of this uneven 90-minute show, for which he also composed the Miami Beach-meets-Berlin underscore. Monaco’s opening anecdote, the first in a series of eight, introduces the sense of possibility he feels when he is in transit, the inquisitiveness he brings to bear on others and his amorphous concept of music as a medium for storytelling.

Eager and bespectacled, Monaco is the first-person voice in each account, but he shares narrating duties with three performers — El Beh, Ashley De La Rosa and Mehry Eslaminia — who take turns recalling his encounters with a handful of people he’s found fascinating over the past several years, both at home and abroad. This layering effect in the performances is echoed in the backbeats and crescendos that a head-bobbing Monaco generates, in collaboration with the instrumentalist John Murchison, from behind an onstage table full of D.J. equipment (the set is by Diggle).

Considering how often Monaco draws attention to his called-off marriage engagement, it would not be unfair to categorize “Travels” as a breakup album. (The project is also a departure for Monaco from his artistic partnership with Jerome Ellis, who contributed additional music.) Reeling from heartache, Monaco seems to search for meaning and solace in the far graver misfortunes of a friend referred to as “R,” a political prisoner turned asylum seeker and the show’s most revisited subject.

“Perhaps all pain is comparable in the end,” Monaco recalls R telling him of their wholly incomparable struggles.