Grown and raised in Bend, Oregon, Voiceless: A Musical saw its world premiere last weekend. The show had its hiccups at its opening, but it also revealed an intriguing, heartfelt, undeniably original new musical in the works.

Central Oregon is not New York City, London, or even Portland. The show’s debut run through Aug. 1 takes place in a high school auditorium, albeit an excellent one. Its presenting organizations are community nonprofits in a spread-out geographical area where the theater in general receives less support and attention than in larger cities. It is performed by a mix of experienced and inexperienced performers, some with limited singing abilities.

Given this context, Voiceless: A Musical shows gumption and great potential. Its origin story is a knockout. Its intertwining plot and subplots weave related story lines that explore what it’s really like to be human, in families and relationships, within the tapestry of a larger society.

Equal parts deep, dark, and humorous, Voiceless is unafraid to take on issues of neurodiversity, psychological development, and family dynamics as we follow the lead character, Addy, through an intense, ultimately cathartic time of life.

As for the origin story: Canadian writer Anne Fenn lost her voice for a year in an experience she has called “bizarre.” Muscle tension dysphonia, or MTD, is a medical condition with a fascinating twist: Some people who have the condition can sing, but they cannot speak.

An esteemed Canadian literary journal, The Walrus, published Fenn’s essay about her experience with MTD. It caught the eye of Central Oregon performer, songwriter, and voice coach Deena Kamm. Founder of Sing Bend, Kamm specializes in helping people express themselves through their voices, and leads the Public (ROCK) Choir, where Bend locals “sing their faces off, because it feels good.”

Fenn, meanwhile, specializes in writing and comedy, with decades of experience in television, film, print, and radio. She is working on a comedy series with Robin Duke, a fellow Canadian and a cast member of Saturday Night Live in the ’80s.

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Kamm reached out to Fenn in 2019, wanting to make a musical based on Fenn’s life-changing experience. They were a dream duo in the making. Six years later, their ambitious musical has hit the boards, co-presented by Ellipse Theater Community of Bend and Silent Echo Theater Company of Sisters.

Losing her voice — both literally and metaphorically — is the big story for Addy. Other elements of Voiceless echo Fenn’s personal experiences, too, including the joyful relationship between Addy and her niece Gigi, who is on the autism spectrum. Played with magnetic appeal and excellent comic timing by Brittany Lampe, the character was inspired by Fenn’s actual niece, named Gigi.

“I think honestly you can only write from the sense of who you are,” Fenn said. “I can’t pretend to be anyone else.” As a screenwriter, though, Fenn had never plumbed her life story in depth. Voiceless is her first play.

One strong thread in Voiceless is a fraught mother-daughter relationship. Polished vocalist Christie Capucci shone as Addy’s mother Liz. The harsh, cold gap between the two characters is rooted in Fenn’s life.

“In my view there’s very little written about bad mother-daughter relationships,” Fenn said. “I don’t see it a lot in theater or TV or movies … people don’t understand that not everyone gets unconditional love from their mother. It’s not represented out there.”

In the play, Addy has started a small business that employs Gigi and other people with ASD (autism spectrum disorder). Spectrum Services and its four neurodivergent characters often steal the show with an irresistible mix of honesty, awkwardness, and humor. Their arc, however, becomes muddled as the characters behave less like people with ASD that one might know in life, and more like dancing, hugging, spotlight-grabbing theater folk.

A comedic thread involves a power-hungry startup capitalist with an alcohol problem, played by Jennifer Cornelius, who performs the bad-guy role with over-the-top panache. If she had a moustache, she’d be twirling it (when not otherwise occupied quaffing a glass of champagne in one gulp).

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Another colorful thread — or yarn, if you prefer — involves knitting and yarn-bombing. Sound baths, chakras, a startup pitch conference, and tree hugging also make appearances, as do snooty baristas at an espresso stand.

These quirky facets of everyday life — well, everyday for some people, many of them living in places like Oregon and Toronto — are part of Addy’s world. Deena Kamm herself, the lyricist and songwriter, plays the lead role with clear dedication.

On opening night the first act dragged, perhaps weighted down with too much exposition. Thanks to press releases and playbills, the audience settled into their seats already knowing that the play is about a character who loses her voice. But the literal voice loss doesn’t occur until Act II.

The show picks up steam in the second act as Addy confronts the weirdness of being unable to speak, and a wacky voice doctor enlivens the stage. Don Delach does a bang-up job of portraying Dr. Stone, a kindly soul with woo-woo tendencies and some serious Twin Peaks energy. The action builds up to Addy’s transformation and a satisfying, fairly classic musical-theatre ending.

Voiceless is destined for more workshopping and script alterations. “We’re probably going to have to cut some of the songs, or trim some of the ones I love,” said Fenn. She expects to cut “maybe 20 percent of the dialogue” as well.

Kamm and Fenn want Voiceless to go far. Fenn explains, “Our goal has always been Broadway, from the beginning. Deena wrote it as a mainstage musical and it’s pretty big. There’s a lot going on; it’s a bit big for community theater, but they’ve done a great job given the task.”

Director Richard Choate was brought in toward the end of the production process, which Fenn said lacked appropriate rehearsal time “due to various things beyond the performers’ control,” such as no daytime access to the venue and initial difficulties with the set.

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Is community theater a good match for such an ambitious new show? “We have a lot of good talent in Central Oregon,” says Choate. “I don’t know why a community theater couldn’t do this.” However, opening night was bumpy technically and in other ways. “As you can see tonight, this was like a dress rehearsal,” he said. Fenn reports that Voiceless is now running smoothly.

Fenn isn’t the only one with a personal connection to the play’s subject matter. Producer Marla Manning of Silent Echo Theater Company has her own story related to voice loss. When Manning’s mother was a young girl, she lost her voice for a year — after her parents separated and lied to her about it.

“Years ago, with snail mail as a main form of communication, this was very possible,” Manning elaborated. Her mom went on to become a successful teacher, wife, and mother. “But I believe that she never emotionally outgrew this experience for the rest of her life,” Manning said. It affected Manning herself profoundly.

Thanks to a host of committed, hard-working theater artists and sponsors, such complex issues can now be explored in a touching, entertaining stage show (details at voicelessamusical.com). Perfect? Not yet, but the play shows true promise. As Voiceless: A Musical continues to evolve, audiences can enjoy delving into its current incarnation in Bend. If it does wind up on Broadway, we’ll be able to say, “I was there at the beginning.”