Like “A Tear and a Smile,” Kahlil Gibran’s well-known poem, the Bengson’s musical memoir My Joy is Heavy displays the couple’s affirmation of life in contrasts. Great joy can arise while experiencing great loss.The Obie-winning husband and wife team responsible for notable offerings like NYTW’s Hundred Days, presents an intimate, visceral series of experiences expressed organically in hauntingly beautiful music. Grounded in the audience’s remembrance of COVID lock-down, its isolation and traumas, we learn of the fiery trials the Bengsons went through separately and together during that time.

This powerful, soulful, cycle of songs and narration superbly directed by Tony Award winner Rachel Chavkin (Hadestown), transports the audience every moment the couple takes the stage. Abigail and Shaun invite audience members into their world, a gritty chronicle of emotions, spooling out from an extraordinary mix of folk-rock, punk and gospel that rearranges one’s psyche from start to finish. Because of audience enthusiasm, My Joy is Heavy has been extended through April 12, 2026 at New York Theatre Workshop.

What makes this production intimate and heartfelt includes the couple’s attention to the audience. To make sure they hear and see every lyric, turns of phrase, imagery and poetry, the production employs closed captions that appear above the stage. I found these to be less distracting than captions in other productions that oftentimes appear stage left or stage right. Additionally, the musical duo cuts to the chase identifying their wish to share a compelling revelation at the center of their musical memoir. “We’re here to tell you about this one moment, this one moment that happened right there on that bed.”

When Abigail says this, she motions to the bed in Lee Jellinek’s set design of Abigail’s mom’s house in Vermont. The couple and their toddler son stayed there during the alienating months of COVID, the time period of the production. It was then they had an epiphany, like a shamanic vision, which drives them artistically. Hoping that the expressiveness and power of their story helps restore harmony and wholeness, they try to connect with the audience so they might experience a cathartic, emotional release.

When Abigail and Shaun begin to discuss their COVID isolation, they call upon the audience to remember with them and reflect upon those lost to the pandemic. Abigail memorializes these individuals with a symbolic gesture involving two audience members. Then the duo plunges into their musical narrative with choreography by Steph Paul and music supervision by Obie Award winner Or Matias (Grey House). Shaun’s great versatility playing piano, guitar, accordion, etc., and the expert six member band directed by Matt Deitchman, accompany Abigail and Shaun throughout.

With them the couple rides waves of humor, uplift and sadness as they course through songs, not slowing down until they sing the last refrain of “My Joy is Heavy” to the audience’s rhythmic hand clapping.

As a part of the narrative we see snippets of Gramma Kathy, Abigail’s mother, and their toddler Louie in home video footage taken with their phones. Chauvkin uses these and other videos projected on the back wall of the set to convey and enhance mood and tone, and transition to other scenes with different emotional content. Also, Chavkin integrates these projections into the narrative to relay quieter moments of homely family life in “the calm before the storm.”

As a complement to the home videos, David Bengali’s video design, which accompanies the metaphoric song “Underground,” and serves as background for other musical pieces, effectively captures the Bengson’s interior emotions. For “Underground” the wild and evocative projections aptly serve the lyrics. For example, to reflect how Abigail and Shaun went into feelings of isolation and fear they sing, “I’ve been underground in a deep, dark cave, doing my best to stay live.” Alan C. Edwards’ lighting makes the projections pop. For her part Abigail experiences excruciating headaches that she labels PTSD. Clearly, the pandemic causes intense stress when, despite everyone’s assumptions, it goes on for months because of skyrocketing numbers of the dead and dying as COVID spreads.

With the drama of the pandemic in the background, Abigail and Shaun try for another baby. However, the risk reward ratio of a prior miscarriage plummets them into cascading fear. They elicit help from doctors and when the medication and fertility testing don’t seem to help, they watch holistic programs and go through Zoom sessions. Many of the profound songs as well as the humor deal with the Bengsons struggle with their having another baby. Standouts include “River” and “Don’t Hope.”

The first song is a striking, poignant remembrance of their baby who never makes it into life, a song of love and mourning. This devastating experience five years prior informs their roller-coaster emotions in the present when Abigail discovers the blue line of her new pregnancy. Though “over the moon,” Shaun and Abigail can’t allow themselves the luxury of celebrating, because “what if?”

“Don’t Hope” hits home with its simple humanity and perfect melody aligning with the repeated refrain, “DON’T DO IT, DON’T
HOPE, DON’T DO IT, DON’T GET HAPPY. Who cannot empathize with the sentiment that feeling too exuberant will jinx what one wants desperately? After this amazing song Shaun describes his riotous experience with little Louie on the Santa Sleigh and the humor breaks through the fear and makes way for the song, “Veil.” Both agree, they’re doing everything they can do. And this leads to their understanding that they can’t live avoiding their natural feelings. Together they decide, in the next song, “I’d Like to be Happy.” They choose to let go of repression.

By degrees we follow their emotional journey from the cave and pain to an expiation of the sorrow of the miscarriage and recognition that happiness shouldn’t be suppressed. And in between a few other remembrances and songs, the couple arrives at the epiphany Abigail refers to at the top of the musical. Thus, engaged audience members travel with them through flashbacks to experience palpably how joy and sorrow can occupy the same place in one’s heart, at the same time. The Bengsons bring the audience to this breathtaking and ebullient conclusion in the rousing gospel “My Joy Is Heavy,” as all stand in appreciation.

My Joy Is Heavy runs 1 hour 10 minutes through April 12, 2026 at New York Theatre Workshop. https://www.nytw.org/show/my-joy-is-heavy/
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