Dance in Review

Displaying items by tag: Ilesa Duncan

Pegasus Theatre’s “Dontrell, Who Kissed the Sea” is a family drama with plenty of comedic overtones. Director ILesa Duncan relies on very strong performances by Maya Abram as Mom, the whirling core of the family, along with David Goodloe as a deadpan Dad, to center the show in the Jones household dynamics. These have been thrown askew by Dontrell Jones III, a 18 year old dreamer who has always followed his own direction.

Written by Nathan Alan Davis, the play gives us a dramatic shift early in the opening scenes. In a vivid dream, beautifully staged with the company of players forming a chorus, Dontrell is visited by ancestral figures, and directed to seek out the remains of his great great great grandfather, who died in transit by jumping from a slave ship—the Middle Passage from Africa. Now Dontrell is to dive to the seabed where the Chesapeake River meets the Atlantic, to find his ancestor’s remains.

On awakening, this becomes Dontrell’s mission. Never mind that his parents have other plans for him. Or that he is to enter Johns Hopkins as a freshman in the fall. Or that he cannot swim. With an innocent single mindedness he embarks on this mission, Dontrell begins keeping a tape recorded log of his quest, dictating similarly to the Star Trek captain’s log, tracking his progress.

Immersed in this electrifying dream vision, Dontrell’s family senses he is estranged. His good buddy Robby (Zay Williams) reaches out to him, but while the old bond is there, Dontrell is not there with it.

Soon he heads to the public pool and diving into the deep end, and sinks, only to be. And then rescued by the lifeguard on duty, Erika (Emma Wineman). The two bond, and she becomes his confidant and comes home to meet the family, including younger sister Danielle (Aundria TraNay).

The play then follows the dynamics of the family conflict, filled with humor, angst, anger, and love. While working from the same script as a 2018 version of “Dontrell, Who Kissed the Sea,” it is remarkable to how differently this production interprets the author’s work. The earlier version was more dreamlike, centering on Dontrell’s vision and quest. Pegasus’ production centers on the conflict between a young Black man compelled to reckon with his heritage, and his family’s goals to keep him headed to college. Both are satisfying shows, but call me a dreamer, I lean toward the First Floor Theatre interpretation, which is why I returned five years later to see this play once more.
“Dontrell Who Kissed the Sea” plays through August 18 at Chcago Dramatists theater, 798 N. Aberdeen.

Published in Theatre in Review

Lifeline Theatre’s production of "Native Son," directed by Ilesa Duncan and adapted by Nambi E. Kelley from Richard Wright’s seminal novel, is a masterful exploration of urban naturalism. With powerful performances and an incisive adaptation, the play captures the harrowing tale of Bigger Thomas, a young Black man whose life spirals out of control in 1930s Chicago.

The adaptation stays true to the novel’s brutal honesty, portraying a world where characters are shaped and ultimately doomed by forces beyond their control. Much like Upton Sinclair's "The Jungle," the narrative of "Native Son" is driven by the crushing weight of systemic racism and economic oppression. Duncan's direction ensures that every moment of this production is charged with a sense of inevitability, creating a haunting and immersive experience.

Nambi E. Kelley’s adaptation of "Native Son" powerfully employs W.E.B. DuBois's concept of "double consciousness" by dramatizing Bigger Thomas's internal conflict and the way he is perceived by the larger society. This duality is embodied in the character of The Black Rat, who represents Bigger's internal voice, and his awareness of the limitations imposed on him by a racially prejudiced society. Through dialogues and interactions with The Black Rat, Bigger’s consciousness is split between his self-perception and the identity forced upon him by systemic racism. This dramatization underscores the psychological toll of navigating a world where Bigger must constantly reconcile his personal identity with the dehumanizing stereotypes projected onto him by the white society, highlighting the perpetual struggle and fragmentation described by DuBois.

Tamarus Harvell delivers a riveting performance as Bigger Thomas, embodying the character's internal turmoil and external pressures with raw intensity. Harvell's portrayal captures the complexity of Bigger’s emotions—from his initial bravado and suppressed rage to his ultimate desperation and fear. His interactions with other characters reveal layers of vulnerability and frustration, making Bigger a deeply sympathetic figure despite his tragic actions.

Kamille Dawkins as Hannah, Bigger's mother, brings a poignant depth to her role. Her portrayal of a woman struggling to hold her family together amid relentless poverty and systemic racism is heart-wrenching. Dawkins' performance highlights the generational despair that permeates the Thomas family, adding a layer of emotional gravity to the narrative.

Mandy Walsh’s Mrs. Dalton is a study in benevolent racism. Blind and wealthy, Mrs. Dalton represents the liberal white America that believes in charity but remains blind to the systemic injustices it perpetuates. Walsh’s nuanced performance underscores the dissonance between Mrs. Dalton’s intentions and the impact of her actions on Bigger's life.

Laura Nelson as Mary Dalton and Nick Trengove as her boyfriend Jan play their roles with a blend of naivety and rebellious idealism. Their interactions with Bigger are uncomfortable, filled with well-meaning condescension that reflects their ignorance of the harsh realities faced by Black Americans. Nelson and Trengove adeptly capture the obliviousness of privileged youth, making their characters' tragic fates feel both inevitable and avoidable.

James Lewis, portraying The Black Rat, Bigger’s alter ego, adds a layer of psychological complexity to the production. This character, representing Bigger’s internal struggle and dual consciousness, is a haunting presence on stage. Lewis’ performance is both eerie and empathetic, providing insight into Bigger’s fragmented psyche and the pervasive influence of fear and anger.

Ashli Funches excels in her multiple roles as Bessie, Vera, and Leslie, showcasing her versatility and depth as an actress. Her portrayal of Bessie, in particular, is both tender and tragic, illustrating the collateral damage of Bigger’s actions and the broader societal constraints on Black women.

Gabe Fries as Detective Britten embodies the oppressive force of the law, delivering a performance that is both menacing and emblematic of institutional racism. His interactions with Bigger are charged with tension and prejudice, making the audience viscerally aware of the systemic barriers faced by the protagonist.

Dairyon Bolden’s Buddy, Bigger’s younger brother, brings a touch of innocence and hope to the bleak narrative. Bolden’s performance contrasts sharply with the despair surrounding him, emphasizing the devastating impact of systemic injustice on the younger generation.

The set design by Regina Garcia is both functional and symbolic, creating an oppressive urban environment that reflects the entrapment of the characters. The use of confined spaces and stark lighting enhances the sense of claustrophobia and inevitability that pervades the production. The minimalistic yet evocative set serves as a constant reminder of the harsh realities of Bigger's world. I wish the pre-show had featured music from the late 1930s to better immerse the audience in the play's historical setting.

Duncan’s direction ensures that every element of the production works in harmony to deliver a powerful message about race, poverty, and the human condition. The pacing is relentless, reflecting the constant pressure on Bigger as he navigates a world stacked against him. The use of sound and lighting to heighten tension and underscore critical moments is particularly effective, drawing the audience deeper into Bigger’s harrowing journey.

Lifeline Theatre’s "Native Son" is an important piece of theater, offering a poignant and unflinching look at a society riddled with racial and economic injustices. The stellar performances and Duncan’s incisive direction make this adaptation a must-see, offering a powerful reminder of the enduring relevance of Wright’s work. In capturing the essence of urban naturalism, this production not only honors the original novel but also provokes crucial reflections on contemporary issues of race and justice.

Highly Recommended


When: Through June 30

Where: Lifeline Theatre,  6912 N. Glenwood

Running time: 90 minutes

Tickets: $45 at

773-761-4477 and www.lifelinetheatre.com

Published in Theatre in Review

As we drove away from Lifeline Theatre I asked my companion what she thought of From the Mississippi Delta. “I have no words yet,” she said. “I’m still just reveling in delight.”

This play is indeed delightful. Even when eleven-year-old Phelia is raped; even when she and Aunt Baby are squashing cockroaches; even when her own town shuns her – even these scenes manage to delight without ever compromising the gravity of the story.

And the best part is it’s all true! Dr Endesha Ida Mae Holland (1944-2006) wrote the play From the Mississippi Delta based on her memoir/autobiography of the same name (which you can purchase in the lobby). As author and as playwright, Dr. Holland, professor emeritus of theatre at University of Southern California, chronicles her journey from dirt-farm poverty and the brutality of 1950’s Jim Crow, enduring rape and prostitution before finding herself in civil rights activism. It took twenty years, but Dr Holland completed her bachelors, masters, and doctoral degrees at the University of Minnesota. From the Mississippi Delta is a testament to Holland’s perseverance, and to the myriad sheroes who encouraged and sustained her.

The play, brilliantly directed by Lifeline Theatre’s Artistic Director ILesa Duncan, includes dozens of characters, all played by the cast of three actors: LaKecia Harris, Arielle Leverett, and Jenise Sheppard, billed in the program as Woman 1, Woman 2, and Woman 3. Harris and Sheppard alternate playing Phelia while Leverett primarily represents her mother, Aunt Baby. Aunt Baby’s artistry as a midwife leads a local (white, male – of course) doctor to call her ‘the second doctor’. The scene in which she rotates and delivers a breech baby left me stunned.

The play begins with the women relating hideous vignettes, beginning with Emmett Till, and each account ends with the words ‘This is the Mississippi Delta. This is where I was born and grew up’. After a handful of stories, they begin singing “Trouble in Mind”; that’s when I fell under their spell. Throughout the play they brilliantly perform at least a dozen iconic selections from blues and spirituals. Music Director Ricky Harris and Sound Director Deon Custard collaborate to meld the music perfectly with the action and with external and peripheral sound effects. Harris’ decision to forego accompaniment or instrumentation is inspired, as the three magnificent voices are enriched by a capella performance.

FunFact of the Day:  the a capella genre originated with African Americans singing in African American barbershops: the original barbershop quartets.  

(Top to Bottom) Arielle Leverett as Woman 2, Jenise Sheppard as Woman 3, and LaKecia Harris as Woman 1; in Lifeline Theatre and Pegasus Theatre’s “From the Mississippi Delta.”

Scenic Designer Angela Weber Miller’s amazing multi-level set has several doors and other options for egress, which choreographer Tanji Harper makes adroit use of to allow the three actors to instill a phenomenal amount of detail into each scene. Props Designer Wendy Ann caches props and bits of costumery (designed by Gregory Graham) all about the set, allowing the actors to change character by simply donning an apron or shucking a hat. The sparse furniture onstage is just as versatile: an ironing board converts to a birthing bed and later becomes grandstand seats for Phelia’s debut as a stripper. The transformations are skillfully abetted by Lighting Designer Levi J Wilkins. Stage Manager Roxie Kooi stitches it all together into an amazing package for Production Manager Adi Davis.

Everything lately seems to need an Intimacy consultant – even the American Ballet Theatre recently used one for a pas de deux – and Gregory Geffrard keeps the actors on the good side of the fine line separating stimulating from stodgy. 

An African American deep-south accent is tough to pull off without sounding like Amos & Andy, so my hat’s off to Dialect Coach Shadana Patterson. Her job was made even tougher by the fact that white folks are notoriously challenged by African American dialects and accents. In fact, though I was encouraged to see the theatre more than 2/3-full, it was almost totally lacking Black faces, which I find both surprising and concerning.,

My melanin deficiency invalidates my opinion, but I’m going to give it anyway: I think African Americans, particularly Black women, would very much enjoy From the Mississippi Delta. It exposes the singular brutality lurking at the intersection of bigotry and misogyny. It is a testimonial to the strength and resilience of Black women, a hymn to the human spirit. 

Look -- if for no other reason, go for the music.  See From the Mississippi Delta and be transported by these three magnificent voices.

HIGHLY RECOMMENDED

Published in Theatre in Review

 

 

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