Displaying items by tag: Black Ensemble Theatre

Every time I’ve had the pleasure and the privilege of attending a show at Black Ensemble Theatre, once the experience has sunken in and I’ve had time to think about what I witnessed, I realize something. I realize that Jackie Taylor—actress, singer, writer, historian, founder of the Theater, and writer and director of this production, Blue Eyed Soul Sung by Brown Eyed People—is also a sneaky teacher, which is the best kind of teacher.

Because every show I’ve seen at Black Ensemble Theater, after I’ve gotten over the wonderful performances of equally wonderful music, after I’ve stopped tapping my toe and singing along but have not stopped smiling, I realize that Jackie Taylor has taught me something. She’s made history—and learning—not just immersive and impressive and relatable and digestible. She’s made it joyful.

But that’s just part of Ms. Taylor’s secret formula. Her audiences can’t help but be invested when presented with art that is historically significant, but that is also emotionally significant—I bet one or two or ten of these songs brings back a memory, a feeling, or a moment for each and every member of the audience. And this audience can’t help but be awed when artist after artist presents this historical and emotional art so skillfully and so joyfully.

I keep using that word. Joyfully. Joyful. Joy. Joy is the feeling I get the moment I walk into the Black Ensemble Theatre’s foyer. It’s a community. A joyful community is what I feel I’m part of as I’m shown my seat (an aisle mate of mine mentioned how there’s not a bad seat in the house; as true here as anyplace I’ve been).

And joy is the feeling I got as Blue Eyed Soul Sung by Brown Eyed People began. The band is killer. Even though I’m a musician myself, if I wasn’t watching the four of them play, I wouldn’t guess it’s just a four piece. Conducted by musical director Robert Reddrick who’s also front and center at the drumkit, Adam Sherrod on piano paints with a wide palette of sounds—smooth electric piano, sacred organ, sensual keys. Oscar Brown Jr. on guitar adds more—effortless soul, reverberating rockabilly, Spanish classical, psychedelic fuzz. And Walter Bass—on bass—brings the hook to so many of the songs they perform, the hook that has hooked millions of listeners for generations now, and for generations to come.

Yes, the songs. I won’t give too much away, but you’ll hear songs sung by Dolly. And Whitney. And Mariah. And Christina. And Tommy. And Tom.

The songs are sung by Black Ensemble Theatre’s talented ensemble. Vincet Jordan—who transformed into Chuck Berry in a previous production on Berry’s life and work—shows his range, from falsetto to harmonies to duet partner to charismatic frontman. LaRon Jones has a stunning voice, and he gets song after song that seem written to show it off. Taryn Welch’s voice also left me stunned—I’m still trying to figure out how she pulled off one extended run. Trequon Tate and Dennis Dent provided humor and charm and spot-on backing vocals, alongside Raeven Carrol.

It's Carrol who provided one of the understated highlights of the show. “If I should stay, I would only…” She begins a classic song, a song everyone knows. She sings it tenderly and warmly and beautifully, as it was meant to be sung. Then she’s joined by, and overtaken by Britt Edwards—who has so many wonderful moments throughout the show—and this song is one where Edwards SINGS, because that’s what someone has to do if they sing this song.

So, Edwards SINGS. As good of a performance of this song as you’ll hear. But then there’s Carrol’s voice, back again. Tender and warm and as beautiful as Edwards’ voice. Each voice perfectly their own.

And these two singers, and the entire cast and crew, show you that this song—and any great song—is one that can be sung by different voices, in different ways, and it will always be a great song that can be sung and shared and bring joy.

Come listen and sing along, smile and learn, and be part of a joyful community at Black Ensemble Theatre’s production of Blue Eyed Soul Sung by Brown Eyed People, now until November 10.

Black music in the 1980’s was transformative. It was the decade where Black music exploded in diversity and influence. It broke down racial barriers in popular music, with Black artists topping the charts and influencing artists across genres. Black music embraced new music technology; pioneering techniques used in popular music today. It provided a powerful platform for social commentary, giving voice to Black experiences in America.

Writer-Director Daryl D. Brooks takes us back to the 1980’s with his time machine, if you plan on taking the trip, pack your dancing shoes and be ready to party “all night long”.

The premise is simple, Derrick Taylor (an entertaining Brandon Lewis) a High School senior must do a research project on music of the 1980’s. He knows absolutely nothing about the 1980’s or its music. He solicits the help of his eccentric inventor Uncle Mike (the always excellent Thee Ricky Harris) who just happens to have been working on a time machine, and what a time machine it is.

Dominating the stage is a boombox perched atop a turntable. This colossal creation by Set Designer Denise Karczewski instantly transports us to the vibrant 1980s, a decade synonymous with bold statements and larger-than-life living. It evokes the era of Flava Flav's iconic clock necklace, where oversized accessories and shoulder-padded garments ruled the fashion scene.

Britt Edwards in The Time Machine: A Tribute to the 80’s

This set design isn't just a visual spectacle; it's a subtle commentary on the era's emphasis on conspicuous consumption. The sheer size of the boombox hints at a time when material possessions played a significant role in expressing success and individuality.

The music in Act 1 reflects the diverse sounds of the 1980s, including funk, soul, and hip-hop.

It features artists like Lisa Lisa & Cult Jam, Soul to Soul, Prince, Sheila E, Morris Day & The Time, Keith Sweat, and New Edition. Act 2 opens with movie theme songs, which were popular in the 1980s. It also introduces rap music, which was beginning to gain popularity at the time. The music also features slow jams and artists like Al B. Sure, DeBarge, Sade, Force MDs,  Whitney Houston, and Michael Jackson.

This exceptionally cast show boasts several unforgettable performances:

Jaitee delivers a captivating triple threat, embodying Bobby Brown, Keith Sweat, and even Run with remarkable ease. Micah Alyce stuns as both Lisa Lisa and Irene Cara, showcasing her versatility.

Vincent Jordan commands the stage as Morris Day, LL Cool J, and Al B. Sure, proving his acting range.

Jared Brown shines as Prince, effortlessly transitioning to El DeBarge and Ricky Bell. The dynamic duo of Britt Edwards and Vu brings Denise Williams, Whitney Houston, and Salt-N-Pepa to life, showcasing their vocal and dance talents. Issac Ray energizes the stage as Kurtis Blow, while Ben Izlar Jr. delivers a vocally stunning performance as Johnny Gill. Isaiah Engram brings power and charisma to Rob Base and Ronnie Devoe, and Miciah Lathan flawlessly embodies both Queen Latifah and Chaka Khan. Ama Kuwonu's graceful portrayal of Sade adds another layer of brilliance to the production.

My one criticism, I would have liked Madonna to have been more prominent in this production. She was the embodiment of 80s culture. You couldn’t go to a club in New York without seeing her or hearing her music.

Fueling this musical time machine is the masterful Music Director, Robert Reddrick. With his keen ear and dedication, he has meticulously recreated the authentic sounds of the featured songs of the 1980s’. Joining him on this sonic journey is a stellar band, bringing the music to life with their expertise. Adam Sherrod weaves his magic on the keyboard. Eric Troy, Sr. adds rich textures to the organ.

Myron Cherry keeps the beat solid on drums. Oscar Brown, Jr electrifies the guitar and Walter Harrington anchors the sound with the bass. Together, this talented team forms the engine that propels the audience through a musical journey across time.

Christopher Chase Carter’s choreography was sharp and tight. The moves were complicated and very well executed. He obviously researched the era and the dance styles.  It paid off well, the choreography was beautiful.

Marquecia Jordan's costumes reflected the 1980's aesthetic, with a heavy use of sequins, the colors were bold, and they were accessorized according to the era. Big Chains, Big Earrings…. Loud!

Black artists' success challenged the status quo, their innovative sounds became the new mainstream, and their powerful messages resonated with a global audience. The 1980s became a decade where Black music wasn't just popular, it was transformative.

The Time Machine: A Tribute to the 80’s is more than just a musical revue; it's a time capsule capturing the raw energy, cultural impact, and enduring legacy of 80s music."

Highly Recommended

When: Through April 14, 2024

Where: 4450 N. Clark

Running time: 2 hours, 30 minutes

Tickets: $56.50 - $66.50  Info at www.blackensemble.org.

Initially, I had the jitters about reviewing Grandma’s Jukebox. Obviously the show was very much about music, and I’ve just never been really into music; I’d rather be reading. I didn’t even own a stereo in college! But I love theater so I arrived at the opening with an open mind and expectations.

The first acts established the groundwork: the four grandchildren are gathered to hear their family friend Richard, a lawyer, explain Grandma B’s estate. J Michael Wright portrays Richard’s excruciatingly awkward efforts to gain acceptance into the family circle, but the others form a closed wall. 

Jessica (played by Jessica Brooke Seals), as the eldest, assumes she will mount Grandma B’s matriarchal throne. She’s lost the respect of the other kids, however, by her submission to her domineering and chronically unemployed husband.

The play, written and directed by Michelle Renee Bester, is grounded in two cornerstones of African American life: family and music. Aeriel Williams as Parker gives a lovely rendition of “Song for Mama”, establishing that Parker’s overwhelming grief has silenced her, isolating her in a cocoon of mourning.  

After this poignant offering, Mikey, exuberantly played by Blake Reasoner, galvanizes us with James Brown’s “I Got the Feelin’”, then he and Chris (Vincent Jordan) manage to top it with their dancing as they crank out Michael Jackson’s “Beat It”.

Vincent Jordan’s Chris bares his pain and rage in PJ Morton’s “Heavy”, revealing how he’s manacled by a gang-ridden past, particularly the shackle of being labeled ‘felon’.

The pain of these four people’s personal traumas has been ignited by their bereavement, and each acts out their pain by blaming and belittling the others. Into this crucible steps Richard, the bumbling white guy, to inform them that Grandma B’s will has a condition: no one can inherit until they undergo family therapy. Richard frosts the cake by saying he’s been trained as a ‘family mediator’ and offering his services.

The following scenes intersperse therapy sessions with conversations. Jessica confronts her shiftless husband with “Hurt Me So Good” and Mikey (he’s NOT Michael! Michael is the abusive father that Grandma B rescued him from) and Chris rock the stage with “Ball of Confusion”.

Meantime, the jukebox sits in the background, and we’re wondering why this piece of furniture has been honored by the play’s title. After all, with the support of musicians Oscar Brown Jr (guitar/bandleader), Adam Sherrod (keys), Mark Miller (bass), and Myron Cherry (drums), this cast sparkles and shines performing each number. 

Then Parker is wistfully singing “I’ll be There”, when … But no. That would be telling.  Suffice it to say, the jukebox earns the title.

The finale, a roof-raising ensemble performance of “Before I Let Go”, reminds us that family love is not constrained by genetics, race, or personal quibbles; a reminder we all need from time to time.

There are a couple of things I’d like to have seen highlighted more.  The first couple of scenes were a bit slow, the singing not quite up to the performers’ rousing best, and the humor a bit forced.  This resolved as the cast relaxed and settled into their performances, and was blown away completely when Chris and Mikey pounded out James Brown and Michael Jackson. 

The playwright’s stated intention is to display ways for healing generational trauma, but the traumata explored were limited to the current generation.  I think “Grandma’s Jukebox” could have delved deeper into intergenerational trauma and recovery.

The artistic team is Executive Producer Jackie Taylor, writer/director Michelle Renee Bester, Robert Reddrick as music director, and Oscar Brown Jr leading the band.  The design team – Bek Lambrecht (set), and Denise Karczewski and Marquecia Jordan (costumes) showed welcome minimalism, simply dressing the room as home and the players as family, with a couple of quirks like Parker’s blankie and Mikey’s exuberant colors.

“Grandma’s Jukebox” plays through June 26 at the Black Ensemble Theatre, continuing the 2022 “Season of Excellence: Season of Healing and Joy”.  If a musically torpid white girl like me can be brought out of her seat by “Grandma’s Jukebox”, then a music lover’s cup will be running over.