A spree of Schubert and schnapps in 'Three Pianos'

Not for nothing is there an "official wine sponsor" at New York Theatre Workshop these days. Mass quantities of bottle red are passed down the rows of theatergoers, thus sharing the party mood of a serious and seriously goofy, ingenious and intentionally messy meta-theatrical music-appreciation party called "Three Pianos."

The bizarre inspiration for this original and lovable, if overlong and increasingly undisciplined invention is "Die Winterreise," the devastating 24-poem song cycle that Franz Schubert wrote shortly before he died, at 31 in 1828.

Onstage are three rolling upright pianos, along with three actor-musicians - Rick Burkhardt, Alec Duffy and Dave Malloy - who dreamed up the Obie-winning piece one night during a boozy post-concert frolic. Indeed, the work, which runs more than two hours with no intermission, feels like a shaggy-song story, the product of three bright music students who stayed up all night making stuff up about music they adore. The intention is to make us adore it, too.

The shlumpy guys stumble, freezing, into a cabin near a miniature church and graveyard. One, Dave, is inconsolable with heartbreak. The buddies argue about whether songs shield emotions or heighten them, whether the untrained voice sounds more sincere than the trained one, and which one of them should go on the beer run.

We are operating on at least two levels here - the one where three guys drink sloppy and explicate on Schubert, all 24 songs of "Winterreise" and the history of music from epic poetry through the Romantics. The other level is an imagining of a Schubertiade, the private parties that Schubert would throw for his friends - significantly, his male friends.

The fellows put on bits of 19h century costumes and pretend they are Schubert (Rick) and guests. They talk and sing in silly German accents, when they aren't talking and singing German (with translations on a screen). They sing in sincere, untrained voices and play accompaniments with virtuosity.

Like Shubert's wanderer in the song cycle, the show, directed by Rachel Chavkin, wanders quite a bit. But by the last profound song, the one about the hurdy-gurdy man, the chill in the theater feels deep.