Perry Sherman, Kerstin Anderson; photo by Joan Marcus


Margo Seibert, Zoe Glick, Estelle Parsons; photo by Joan Marcus


Jay McKenzie, Jessica Naimy, Thom Sesma, James Crichton, Emilie Kouatchou; photo by Joan Marcus


Erik Lochtefeld, Margo Seibert; photo by Joan Marcus


Photo by Paul Fox

Unknown Soldier

Mainstage Theater

Book and Lyrics by Daniel Goldstein
Music and Lyrics by Michael Friedman
Directed by Trip Cullman
Choreographed by Patrick McCollum

New York premiere

Sometimes you see a picture / Or hear a song / Or read a letter / And a person that’s forgotten comes alive for a moment. / They can tell you a story.

Cleaning out her grandmother’s home, Ellen Rabinowitz discovers a mysterious photograph of an anonymous soldier, tucked away in a box of keepsakes. And so begins Daniel Goldstein and Michael Friedman’s sweeping, elegiac musical about a woman’s journey to unearth the secrets buried in her family’s past. Spanning three generations, Unknown Soldier unravels a delicate tangle of family lore, as Ellen chases the extraordinary story that unlocks her history — and charts her future.

Kerstin Anderson — Lucy Lemay
James Crichton — Male Ensemble
Zoe Glick — Lucy Rabinowitz/Young Ellen
Emilie Kouatchou — Female Ensemble
Erik Lochtefeld — Andrew
Jay McKenzie — Male Ensemble
Jessica Naimy — Female Ensemble
Estelle Parsons — Lucy Anderson
Margo Seibert — Ellen Rabinowitz
Thom Sesma — Doctor
Perry Sherman — Francis

Scenic Design : Mark Wendland
Costume Design: Clint Ramos and Jacob A. Climer
Lighting Design: Ben Stanton
Sound Design: Leon Rothenberg
Projection Design: Lucy Mackinnon
Hair, Wig, and Make-up Design: J. Jared Janas
Orchestrations: Michael Friedman and Marco Paguia
Music Director: Julie McBride
Music Coordinator: Tomoko Akaboshi
Production Stage Manager: Lisa Ann Chernoff
Assistant Stage Manager: Ben Freedman


Playwrights' Perspectives

Playwright’s Perspective: Unknown Soldier

For as glorious a composer as Michael was, the only thing that ever mattered for him was the story — the often-brutal sometimes-tender evocation of our collective humanity. And I guess, for now, that has to be enough.