By Ciara LaVelle
By Jose D. Duran
By Kat Bein
By Juan Barquin
By Ciara LaVelle
By George Martinez
By Kat Bein
By Ciara LaVelle
Ellen Davis, a retired faculty member of the New World School of the Arts, expertly directs the show; as producer, she put up her own money to pay the ten-member cast and rent the 85-seat black box theater. The result is a moving show that shames the region's more established theaters, which have failed to present Wilson's award-winning works, including Fences (a Pulitzer and a Tony), The Piano Lesson (another Pulitzer, at Miami-Dade Community College North Campus's William and Joan Lehman Theatre through Saturday) and, of course, Ma Rainey's Black Bottom (a New York Drama Critics Circle Award).
While other theaters regularly reach out -- and often pander -- to South Florida's diverse audiences by producing plays about Hispanics, Jews, gays, and the elderly, they rarely explore the black experience. Some complain that it's too tough to find enough talented actors to fill a cast, yet almost every year several local black actors are nominated for and/or awarded Carbonell Theater Awards for outstanding performances. Others argue that, in a mostly white market, black-oriented productions are box office poison. Tell that to the black touring companies that come through town and do quite well. The fact is, a good play, no matter what its racial context, touches just about everyone.
August Wilson's plays are exceptional. Produced in regional theaters across the country, his six major works (Joe Turner's Come and Gone, Two Trains Running, and Seven Guitars round out the repertoire) are each set in a different decade and feature characters searching for a sense of self while participating in the black race's struggle for recognition and identity.
In Ma Rainey's Black Bottom, the setting is a Chicago recording studio in 1927. Ma Rainey is due any minute to kick off a recording session. The real-life Gertrude Pridgett Rainey started out in vaudeville-style song-and-dance acts, for which her stage name was either "Ma" or "Madame" Rainey. She was one of the first entertainers to use the blues in her act; as the genre caught on, she became popular. Between 1923 and 1928 she recorded 92 songs for Chicago's Paramount label.
Rainey was quite a character. A flashy dresser, she had a big heart but a volcanic temper. She was also bisexual, and rumors linked her to protege Bessie Smith, with whom she toured on the blues circuit.
While Rainey serves as inspiration, the play is completely fictional. The details, however, are authentic. Set designer Michael McKeever's run-down studio, for example, is split into two areas clearly delineated by Dale Ripingill's fade-up and fade-out lighting design: a recording room and a band rehearsal room. The hardback chairs, scarred pianos, and bare floors peg the owners as people concerned more with the artists' moneymaking potential than their comfort. Like most black musicians at the time, Rainey was paid a flat fee for recording sessions but no royalties -- even though she wrote more than a third of the songs.
Against the back wall is a control booth occupied by two white people who are obviously in control of the session, the black musicians, and the profits. Warning Rainey's manger Miss Irvin (Donna Wood) that he won't put up with any more of the singer's "Royal Highness Queen of the Blues bullshit," studio owner Sturdyvant (Ablan Roblin) reluctantly agrees to record four more songs, hoping they'll sell better than her last releases; swing is beating the blues on the charts. Sturdyvant and Irvin take advantage of Rainey's tardiness by changing the proposed song list and adding an upbeat introduction to the tune "Ma Rainey's Black Bottom."
Wilson concentrates on the four musicians in Rainey's group as they wait for her to arrive. Switching from playful jive to painful tales of discrimination, their banter is the backbone of Ma Rainey's Black Bottom, and the actors play the script's tonal changes like a tight four-piece band.
Early on, Cutler (Wayne Thompson), the guitarist, shares a joint and trades stories with Slow Drag (Roland Baker), the bass player. They talk of women, big dreams, and about whether anyone they know has actually sold his or her soul to the Devil.
Talk of the Devil eventually leads to thoughts about how to get ahead in a white man's world. Polishing his horn, Levee (Kevin Springs) thinks he has the answer: the intro to "Ma Rainey's Black Bottom," which he wrote and hopes will lead to future business with Sturdyvant. Ambitious though he is, Levee is also bitter; at one point he spits out a harrowing tale of how white thugs destroyed his family when he was a child. His revenge will be to become a successful band leader.