"The Brothers Size" by Pillsbury House Theatre at the Guthrie Studio

The "Brother/Sister Plays" by young playwright Tarell Alvin McCraney are a complex and intense "series of stories" that tell universal stories of love, loss, family, and relationships through a specific set of characters in Louisiana, who happen to be named for gods in the Yoruba mythology of Nigeria. Pretty heavy stuff, and pretty rich material too, with which Pillsbury House Theatre is doing a pretty amazing job. Last summer they presented the first play in the trilogy, In the Red and Brown Water, at the Guthrie Studio Theater. This fall they're doing the second play, The Brothers Size*, which includes two of the same characters but a different focus. I can only hope they'll complete the trilogy next year with Marcus; Or the Secret of Sweet. I'd really love to see all three done in repertoire, which would be a huge undertaking, but also hugely rewarding to see all the stories and characters within a short time period. It takes a moment to get into the language and the structure of the plays, in which characters speak their own stage directions ("Oshoosi sleeps," "Ogun exits"). But once you do you really come to know and love (or hate) these characters.

In the Red and Brown Water tells the story of a young track star named Oya whose dreams are put on hold when she stays home to tend to her dying mother. It ends pretty tragically for Oya, and The Brothers Size picks up where it left off, although not with Oya**. The focus of this play is her ex-boyfriend Ogun Size and his brother Oshoosi, along with her little friend Elegba who is now grown and has befriended Oshoosi in prison. They're both out now, and Ogun is trying to get his brother back on track, giving him a job in his "carshack." Unfortunately, Elegba is there to drag him back in. This one ends pretty tragically too. Oshoosi and Elegba are best friends and share a lot in prison (just how much is only hinted at), but the truest relationship in this piece is between the brothers. Their parents died when they were young, so they've only had each other their whole lives. Elegba tells Ogun how Oshoosi cried for him when he was first imprisoned, and it's just heartbreaking. Ogun feels responsible for his brother; when Oshoosi went to prison he felt like he let him down somehow, and is determined not to let that happen again.

This play features a three-person cast, much smaller than the last one, and they're all spectacular. Gavin Lawrence is a captivating actor (including a dynamic portrayal of the poet Langston Hughes earlier this year). This version of Elegba is less likeable than what I remember from the last play, but just as compelling. James A. Williams also reprises his role from In the Red and Brown Water, and is convincing as the loving but frustrated brother. Namir Smallwood is new to the trilogy but not to Pillsbury House; he appeared in Buzzer earlier this year (which will be reprised at the Guthrie Studio next year). His Oshoosi is young and playful, but with a dark undercurrent from his years in prison. You can definitely feel the strong bond of family between the brothers Size.

Music is woven into this play in a really lovely way. There's a bit of singing, including a very entertaining version of "Try a Little Tenderness" by the brothers. In addition to the singing, Ahanti Young (who I've known previously as an actor, but who it turns out is also a very talented drummer) plays percussion throughout the piece, adding a soundtrack to accentuate what's happening on stage. He's playing as the audience files in before the show, which makes the pre-show waiting much more pleasant.

The Brothers Size is playing at the Guthrie Studio through the end of the month. If you saw In the Red and Brown Water last summer, you'll want to see this one too. But even if you didn't see it, it's certainly not necessary to appreciate this well-acted, well-written, moving, intense, and unexpectedly musical piece.



*I received two complementary tickets to The Brothers Size as part of the Guthrie's "Blogger Night."

**Oya was not a character in this play, but her portrayer, the lovely and talented Christiana Clark, was in the audience. I wonder if she was as upset about poor Oya's fate as I was!

"Two Trains Running" at Penumbra Theatre

I saw my first August Wilson play earlier this year, Penumbra Theatre's production of Ma Rainey's Black Bottom at the Guthrie.  I was so affected by it that I now have a goal to see all of the plays in Wilson's ten-play cycle, each one covering the African American experience in a different decade in the 20th century.  Lucky for me I live here, where the Penumbra Theatre in St. Paul has produced more August Wilson plays than any other theater in the country.  So it's pretty likely that I'll meet my goal in the next ten years or so.

Ma Rainey is set in the 1920s, and Two Trains Running is set in the 1960s.  It has a little more of a happy ending that what I remember from Ma Rainey, which has a pretty bleak outlook.  This play takes place in a fading restaurant in Pittsburgh in 1969.  The city wants to buy it from the owner, Memphis, and he's determined to set his own price.  The play's characters are the locals who frequent the restaurant (played by many of the same actors I saw in Ma Rainey).  They play the numbers in hopes of a way out, drink coffee, argue with each other, and visit "Aunt Edna," a woman who claims she's over 300 years old and can predict the future.

James Craven (who still sounds like Tommy Lee Jones) is Memphis and has a couple of great moments, including a drunken celebratory scene.  Memphis' land was taken away from him in the South, so he moved north to make a better life for himself.  He has, but still thinks about going home.  Crystal Fox, the only woman in the cast, plays the unappreciated waitress Risa.  She drags her heels slowly around the stage, pouring coffee, wiping down tables, and refilling the sugar.  Her weariness with life is evident in every word, expression, and movement, until she finds something to hope for.  Namely, the newcomer Sterling (James T. Alfred), who's just been released from prison and is restlessly looking for a job or something to occupy his time and energy.  Wolf (Kevin D. West) uses the restaurant as an office for his business running numbers and tries to get Risa's attention, but she's not interested.  West (Dennis W. Spears) is the rich man in town who owns the funeral home as well as many businesses, and has been trying to buy Memphis out for years.  Abdul Salaam El Razzac is the regular Holloway, who seems like he's been coming in, sitting at the same table, and eating the same food for years.  And then there's the man called Hambone because every day for ten years he demands the ham that was promised him in payment, and never gets it.  Ahanti Young, who was so great as Ma Rainey's stuttering nephew, again plays someone who doesn't quite fit in with such tenderness and dignity.  All of these characters are so beautifully created and lived in by these actors.  The set looked real and lived in too; I wanted to pull up a chair and order some macaroni and cheese.  By the end of the play, Memphis gets his price, Sterling and Risa attend a rally for Malcolm X, and Hambone gets his ham.  Things are changing, the neighborhood is dying, but there's hope for the future.

Although I've seen a few Penumbra productions at the Guthrie, this was my first time at their theater near Selby and Dale in St. Paul.  It's a great space (it feels fresh and modern with great artwork on the walls) in a great location (close to the freeway with lots of nearby restaurants).  Here's an easy equation to remember: August Wilson + Penumbra Theatre = great theater not to be missed.  I look forward to the next one.

"Ma Rainey's Black Bottom" by Penumbra Theatre at the Guthrie

August Wilson wrote ten plays about the African-American experience, each covering one decade in the 20th century.  He lived in St. Paul for over ten years and worked closely with Penumbra Theatre, which has produced more of his plays than any other theater in the world, including several world premieres.  They're currently doing Ma Rainey's Black Bottom at the Guthrie, directed by Penumbra Artistic Director Lou Bellamy.  Set in Chicago in the 1920s, Ma Rainey is a fictional account of a recording session of the real life blues singer of the same name.  But it's really about so much more than that.  The way Wilson weaves in themes of racism and history and unspeakable horror along with an entertaining and humorous story is just remarkable.  After the show there was a discussion let by Penumbra Education Director Sarah Bellamy and two experts on race relations, Herbert A. Perkins and Elona Street-Stewart.  The discussion was much more profound and insightful than anything I could say!

Everyone in this cast is amazing in their roles.  Ma Rainey is played by Jevetta Steele of the fabulous local singing family The Steeles.  Ma is what some might call a "diva."  But really, she's a woman who knows what she wants and knows that her power is limited.  Before her voice is recorded, while there's something that she has that the studio owner and her manager still want, she is able to exert some power over her situation.  But as soon as the recording is done and she's signed the release, they don't need her anymore and she's nothing to them.  The four-member band is comprised of Cutler (James Craven), the leader who speaks in rapid-fire words that reminded me of Tommy Lee Jones; Toledo (Abdul Salaam El Razzac), the wise and book-reading piano player; Slow Drag (William John Hall, Jr.), the easy-going bass player; and Levee (James T. Alfred) a young man who has dreams and ambitions of his own.  He wants to play his own arrangements and improvisations, which does not go over well with Ma.  Much of the play is these four men talking and joking with each other.  Their characters are so specific and interesting that it's a pleasure to listen to them go on about nothing, but also difficult at times when we catch glimpses of the pain that's behind it all.

The recording session hits a few rough patches.  Ma wants her stuttering nephew Sylvester (Ahanti Young) to record an intro to one of the songs, and it's just heart-breaking to listen to him struggle with the words until he gets it right.  Ma's glamorous girl Dussie Mae (Lerea Carter) flirts with Levee, spurring Ma on to jealousy.  All the while the studio owner Sturdyvant (played by Michael Tezla, my costar from A Serious Man), watches from the office above while Ma's manager Irvin (Phil Kilbourne) acts as a go-between, making sure everyone is happy and gets what they want.  Eventually the songs are recorded satisfactorally and Ma and her entourage leave the studio.  The band is left behind to pack up their things.  Levee gives Sturdyvant some songs that he wrote, hoping to record them with his own band.  Instead, Sturdyvant gives him five dollars for each song and sends him on his way.  Levee is devastated, and takes his anger and disappointment out on one of the other band members in a tragic ending to the play.  It's an ending that's been bubbling up throughout the course of the play, almost as if it were inevitable.  Which doesn't make it any less shocking.

There's so much that needs to be said about this play, and I don't even know where to begin.  I guess I'll close by saying: if you have the chance to see an August Wilson play, take it.  Obviously I don't know a whole lot about what it means to be a person of color in this country.  But I feel like after watching an August Wilson play, I understand a little bit more of our shared history.  I'm making it a goal to see all ten plays in the cycle at some point in my lifetime.  One down, nine to go.