Showing posts with label August Wilson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label August Wilson. Show all posts

Saturday, February 25, 2012

Radio Golf @ Cleveland Play House

Last fall I wrote this entry about the Penumbra Theatre's production of Two Trains Running. I was in St. Paul to celebrate my brother's 50th birthday, and my sister-in-law got us tickets to see a show together. It was a marvelous production, and I sheepishly add it was the first time I had ever seen anything by August Wilson.

However, there are several of Wilson's works being produced right here in Cleveland over the next several months, and I was thrilled to learn that not only was the Cleveland Play House producing his last work, Radio Golf, but that they were more or less bringing the Penumbra to Cleveland to create it.

Directed by Penumbra's founding artistic director, Lou Bellamy, this production also features two of the actors I saw last Fall in Minneapolis, James Craven and Abdul Salaam El Razzac.

Craven & El Razzac

Speaking out of pure ignorance of how the rest of Wilson's Century Cycle plays out (I did read Fences a few years back, as well) I found much in common between Two Trains and Radio Golf. That is not to suggest anything unoriginal in the later work, instead I felt I was engaged in the repetition of a theme, like a musical variation. This was in part due to the fact that in each production, El Ra and Craven played familiar roles. However, though El Ra stands out once more as the supporting character you cannot take your eyes off of, experiencing the differences in Craven's interpretation of Wilks (Radio Golf) as compared to his Memphis (Two Trains Running.) Each play revolves around and eventually culminates in life-altering moments for both men, and what is at stake is as important to each, in their respective stations in life.

His Memphis is the tightly wound owner and operator of a Hill District diner in 1969. Sporting period horn-rimmed glasses, a neatly-trimmed mustache and a fedora indoors, the man rarely smiles. Unhappy with the world around him, his livelihood threatened by "urban renewal" Memphis is holding out for the right price for his property. To state whether or not he comes out on top would give away the ending. So I will just show this picture:

Memphis, unwound.

I barely recognized the clean-shaven, constantly smiling real estate developer and mayoral-hopeful Harmond Wilks in Radio Golf (which takes place in 1997) and though Craven's voice is unmistakeable, unlike the mightily controlled Memphis, his Wilks' voice betrays his feelings at every moment, wildly pitching high when excited or to a low gravel depending on the situation.

Before departing for the evening, the parents of our babysitter mentioned in passing that the play is a little long at almost three hours. I have to say I disagree. I mean, if I had my druthers I would venture back to Minneapolis to see every part of the Century Cycle produced by Penumbra (they are doing that, by the way) as I have been twice impressed by the way Lou Bellamy and his company handles the material. Wilson was, at heart, a poet, and his characters come and go and take the time to tell beautifully told stories, and no one stops them. Well played, I have no problem with that at all.

My dates for the evening insisted that the side-mounted flip-phones sported by two of the characters were anachronistic for 1997. This is a Motorola StarTAC, released in January 1996. You lose.

After the show I was fortunate enough to spot El Razzac on his way across the lobby of the Allen Theatre. I'd waited four months to tell him personally how much I admired his work.

"Oh!" he said, "You're the guy who wrote the article."

Monday, October 3, 2011

Days of Awe

From American Public Media ...

My brother and I closed the evening at Sweeney’s Saloon in the Selby/Dale neighborhood. Legend has it Sweeney’s was a favorite haunt of August Wilson’s during his time in St. Paul, a place for him to drink, smoke and write. The owner would turn the lights up when Wilson would come in so he could see better to do his work.

If this legend is so, I have to imagine things have changed a great deal in this neck of the woods. Last night it was a very popular place, packed with college students and hipsters, not the kind of place I could imagine anyone being able to concentrate and compose anything like Two Trains Running.

We sat at a table outside, enjoyed a local beer, and had a nice long talk. For me, this was the best part of the trip.

This morning was the Medtronic Twin Cities Marathon, The Most Beautiful Urban Marathon in America®. The race began at 8 AM, and at 10 AM the family and I walked two blocks to Fairview and Summit in time to catch the first few runners. It’s a bright, cool day today, perfect for running. I did not bother bringing my kit this trip, thought my time would be better spent available to my brother, but I did wonder out loud if I might not try the "Full Cleveland" this May.

Maybe you are not aware I also keep a running blog.

Church services at the Unity Church-Unitarian began at 11 AM. I joined Denny and Julie in marriage there in August, 2006. (Didn’t know I could do that, did you?) As a celebration of the High Holy Days, the theme for this morning was forgiveness. It was a painfully well-timed homily.

First step of forgiveness:
We must all give up hope of a better past.

It is a question we ask in The Crucible residency. What is forgiveness? Why is forgiveness necessary? Is it necessary? Who is the benefactor of forgiveness, those who give or those who receive it? Can you forgive and not forget?

“I forgive myself, I forgive you. We begin again in love.”

On our way to the airport, my brother gave me a tour of the MPR studios. It’s a very large, impressive facility, the central nervous system of NPR affiliates around the state, their news, classical and popular music stations. I think I am going to become a die-hard, online fan of The Current 89.3.

And now I am waiting at the gate, informed that my flight took off from Hopkins, and then abruptly turned around for a “maintenance issue.” My departure from MSP is in question, but I have a coffee, cash for dinner if I want it, and a very large book.

LATE UPDATE: Touching down at CLE, 12:30 AM.

We are brothers.

Sunday, October 2, 2011

Two Trains Running @ Penumbra Theatre

Penumbra Theatre was founded in 1976 by Lou Bellamy in the Shelby/Dale neighborhood of St. Paul to "create a forum for African-American voices." That is where my brother and I headed last night for opening weekend of August Wilson's Two Trains Running.

Before he died in 2005, August Wilson created ten plays, The Pittsburgh Cycle, chronicling the African-American experience through the prism of the Hill District. Each play represents one decade of the twentieth century. While I am shy to admit I have (until last night) read merely one of his works (Fences) by the end of the 2011-12 season I will have seen three, including Gem of the Ocean at Karamu and Radio Golf at the Play House.

Penumbra was responsible for Wilson's first professionally produced play, Black Bart and the Sacred Hills, and their relationship with Wilson remained strong throughout his life, and continues today, as the company decided following his death to produce the entire Pittsburgh Cycle, offering one or two of the works every season since 2007.

The facilities of Penumbra are very warm and welcoming, and the auditorium seats 250 but feels very intimate and close. The set for Lee's Restaurant circa 1969 was strikingly realistic.

While I was engaged by the entire ensemble, I most enjoyed sharing three hours in the same room as Abdul Salaam El Razzac (b. 1944) in the role of Halloway, a disciple of Aunt Esther, a man who has lived to the age of 65 by minding his own business. At turns kindly or fierce, this 6'5" grey-domed man in a comfortable suit keeps the top from blowing off Lee's ... or casually (but pointedly) makes his way out when he can't.

El Ra (as he is known to his friends) was born Allen Johnson II in Cleveland. Yes, he performed for Karamu, and graduated from East Tech High, the child of a postman and a "public servant." Right out of high school - during the Vietnam War - he joined the Air Force, moving to the Twin Cities after his service.

El Razzac means "service."

See: "Radio Golf" at Cleveland Play House

Sources:
Penumbra website
Star Tribune: The Mellowing of El Ra
Wikipedia