FLINT, MI–Flint Repertory Theater’s Michael Lluberes continues to prove that just about anything can be done in the intimate space that is the Elgood Theater—even shows that are usually done only in large spaces.

Whether it is installing a deep lake, building tree-house like set pieces stretching into the ceiling, putting athletic games on stage or, as he is doing this month, reimagining a huge sprawling musical to produce it with a cast of only 16, Lluberes, the company’s artistic director, manages to transform challenges into stunning artistic achievements.

The latest accomplishment is Flint’s production of Ragtime, which he directs. Typically done with a large cast on spacious stages, the Flint Rep “Ragtime” is done on a small stage with only 16 actors and two piano players.

The result is a very intense show that keeps the audience focused and haunted. All but a few actors play multiple roles, moving in and out of the ensemble and taking on the long list of personalities both fictional and historical.

“Ragtime,” based on the novel by E.L. Doctorow with a book by Terrence McNally, music by Stephen Flaherty and lyrics by Lynn Ahrens, takes place at the turn of the century and starts out filled with hope and patriotism. Everyone is reaching for the American dream, whether it is the wealthy family whose only names are their roles, the immigrants arriving in New York City, the people of color hoping for the dawn of a new age or the workers organizing for better conditions and wages.

The story is filled with names out of history books from Booker T. Washington to Henry Ford to JP Morgan to Harry Houdini to Emma Goldman. The world is filled with the “new music” of ragtime and everyone is excited for the future. Of course, nothing plays out as planned and the musical exposes that elements of the American dream are built on nightmares for those living it.

David Aron Damane plays Coalhouse Walker Jr, Robyne Parrish is Mother, Ben Cherry is Tateh and Elexis Morton is Sarah.

These four performers lead the cast with voices that are soul-stirring and awe-inspiring. They put in the sort of performances that the cliches were created for but are deserving of descriptors that defy anything over-used or hackneyed. Yes, they make the rafters rattle with their emotionally charged performances. They also steal away the breath of anyone listening through performances that are both powerful and vulnerable.

Damane’s investment in the role is such that he elicits sympathy. His presence is always commanding and his charisma endearing. He expresses emotions that are palpable, whether courting Sarah, demanding justice or manifesting cold fury. He also leaves no doubt that his music could seduce Sarah, for his voice does that for anyone listening, accelerating heartbeats and bringing people to the edges of their seats.

Morton embodies the fragile, shyness of Sarah that melts away when she is alone with Coalhouse. She ensures that you see the woman who inspires her Ragtime lover to be both his best and worst selves. Her early moments on stage are filled with fearful silences, but, like Coalhouse, she has a stage presence that tells her story even without words.

In a world where Booker T. Washington sets almost impossibly high standards for people of color, demanding that they be always above reproach, Coalhouse and Sarah are flawed, beautiful people. They don’t meet Washington’s standards of perfection, but in them we see Black joy, love and beauty. They may be fictional, but their lives feel real and worthy of celebrating. They make mistakes, move outside society’s strictures and forge their own path, one filled with hope and dignity.

And in a world that would turn their faces from them, the character of Mother recognizes them for who they are, something that Parrish does well. She sees.

She also sings with great power, able to capture both moments of uncertainty and power. Mother allows herself to be shaken from complacency and Parrish illustrates her journey with a hundred different moments both quiet and vocal. Her performance of “Back to Before” makes you want to grab a picket sign and head to the Supreme Court.

Cherry conveys a range of expression from gentle tenderness to flamboyant showmanship. He brings a righteous intensity to the role. Tateh’s expectations for his new country are high and his anger seethes when they are not met.

The chemistry between Cherry and Parrish, particularly in the lovely “Our Children” song, restores hope to the musical after many blows of disillusionment.

Others in the ensemble keep the entertainment bar high, whether it is Karen Sheridan alternating between the irascible Emma Goldman and the grumpy grandfather, Joel Gelman’s Father traversing journeys both physical and emotional, or Ronald E. Spriggs orating Booker T. Washington’s sweeping vision for people of color.

The three children, Cael Cech as Little Boy/Edgar, Marigold Entrekin as NoName/Little Girl and Zy’Heir Roy who makes a late appearance as Little Coalhouse were all adorable and sweet. Cech shouldered well for one so young the large responsibility of the role, including the duty of opening the show and striking the note for what was to come. Entrekin raised the stakes for Tateh with her vulnerability and fragility.

Choreographer Cy Paolantonio brings her wealth of national experience to Flint. While the dance steps are impressive and fun, her choreography always tells a story and she assigns movements to people that further deepen their characters.

Eli Sherlock continues a tradition of genius sets at Flint Rep. Minimalism is the name of the game, but it would be deceitful to call the set simple. Traps in the floor open up to create piles of dirt and a deep grave. An arc of vaudeville-inspired lights gives Lighting Designer Chelsie McPhilmy a playground upon which to work her magic. Stairs both fixed and mobile provide vertical layers. A swing lowers from the ceiling.

But perhaps most brilliant is the use of the piano as the primary set piece, one that serves purposes both practical and symbolic. It takes up residence center stage, but is wheeled about to perform many functions, not the least of which is that of a working piano.

Costume Designer Matt Snellgrove dresses the 16 characters in period pieces that help to define their classes, personalities and roles in society through color palettes and varying degrees of complexity. He designed pieces for the ensemble that let them quickly change parts and take on new personalities, making the cast seem bigger than it was.

Musical Director Cole P. Abod was one of two pianists (the other was Leah Fox) that created a purity of sound for this musical, one that was almost haunting with its absence of horns and percussion. The melodic theme was clear throughout the performance in a way that was inescapable. The show lasts close to two and a half hours, but it never drags. Lluberes mixes every element to make this “Ragtime” a compelling night of storytelling and song, one where he invites audiences to ponder issues that even a century later we still grapple with as we try to figure out what the American dream is.