“I don’t like baseball. I like Cardinal baseball”, is how Raymond Doswell, curator of the Negro League Baseball Museum opened his talk this morning. Mr. Doswell was born and raised in the Saint Louis area, before moving to Kansas City, so it is natural that he should feel this way. He does root for the Royals, when they are not playing the Cardinals, but for many years that was a tough thing to do. He and the rest of Kansas City endured many bleak years, while their team remained lost in the wilderness. That’s change now and with the team’s renaissance fan support has grown too. Before moving on, Doswell referred to the Royals fans as the nouveau rich and us Cardinal fans as old money.
Doswell was speaking at the Rep, because the current play there is “Satchel Paige and the Kansas City Swing”. We saw it last night. This play was created by Trey Ellis and Ricardo Kahn, the creators of “Fly”, their story about the Tuskegee Airmen. The setting is 1947, in a KC boarding house, after a thunderstorm had called the afternoon’s ballgame. Satchel Paige and Buck O’Neil, stars of the Negro League are feeling eclipsed, ever since Jackie Robinson broke baseball’s color barrier. Doswell spoke about Paige, O’Neil and the KC Monarchs. Since he was speaking from a theater’s stage, most of this talk dealt with the Negro League’s treatment in theater, film and on TV.
Baseball began again this last week. It was a rocky start for the old Redbirds, but their home opener is on Monday. Fountains around town are bubbling red and a long season of baseball lies ahead of us. While, not as long as baseball’s storied history, this season, this next chapter lies spread out ahead of us. Let’s play some ball and root for the home team, root for the Cardinals!
Another day, another play and after this one I’ll be all caught up on the theater. This last Friday, we attended the world opening of a locally produced play, “Molly’s Hammer”, a play by Tammy Ryan, but this is not the first time that we’ve “seen” the play. Last year at this time, we attended a reading of the play as part of the Rep’s Ignite festival. I wrote about that experience and you can read it again here. This is the second play that we’ve seen from that festival to make it into production this year; the other play was “Georama”. Here are that production’s reading and performance blog posts.
Nancy Bell reprises her role as Molly Rush, anti-war protester and Pittsburgh housewife and mother. Last year’s reading was in the Opera Theater rehearsal hall and took place in the afternoon, where it was all airiness and light. The premiere occurred in the Studio Theater, which is a subterranean venue deep within the bowels of the Loretto-Hilton, where it was dark and claustrophobic. We sat in the front row, on the aisle and had to mind the placement of our legs, less we become part of the production, by tripping one of the actors in the dark.
Unlike “Georama”, “Molly’s Hammer” seemed little changed from last year. I think that speaks of the material’s strength, just like only drawing one card instead of three tells of a better poker hand. Having the same actress in the principal role also added to a sense of continuity. Reviewing what I wrote last year, I’d have to say that the biggest difference is in what was left out. The reading had an awful lot of trial strategizing that was shortened for the performance. The dialog seemed crisper too. Maybe it was because this was my second exposure to the material or maybe it was because the play’s politics are now a bit dated, but I was more interested in the story’s family dynamics than in any political message.
It has been over a week since we saw the play at the Rep, but I still haven’t written about it. I guess, I’ve been having trouble understanding it and have been procrastinating because of that. I’m speaking about Ayad Akhtar’s 2012 Pulitzer Prize winning play, “Disgraced”. Set in contemporary New York City, the play is the tale of the tragic fate of Amir, a Wall Street lawyer of South Asian descent, who seemingly has it all, but as this short, ninety-minute story tells, he has nothing and will soon lose everything. He has denied his heritage and himself, to reach the pinnacle of his success: a tony Manhattan address, a partnership in the offing and a lovely American wife. In the opening scene Amir is seen posing before his artist wife for his portrait, where he stands rampant in suit and tie, but without pants. Costuming that telegraphs the message that the emperor has no clothes. His sitting is interrupted, when his nephew arrives and asks him just to meet with a Muslim cleric being held on terrorism charges. At the combined urgings of his wife and nephew and against his better judgement, he meets with the cleric and so begins his downfall. In the end, he left homeless, unemployed and estranged. He has been disgraced.
In classical literature, Amir has committed the greatest sin that a protagonist can commit, denial of self. That may be true in literature, but this is America, the land of the free, where anyone can make of themselves what they want. Amir has seemingly made a good life for himself, but it all turns out to be a lie. Is it really Amir’s lie though or is it more ours. He had bought into the American dream, but when his past was revealed that dream turned on him and crushed him. His sin was simply to hide the accident of his birth, which was forced upon him to succeed. In Amir’s downfall, I see America as the one disgraced. It is America that is living the lie, the lie that here all men are created equal and that this really is the land of the free.
We saw the play “Georama” last night at the Rep. Last year we attended a reading of this same play at the Rep’s series, Ignite! It is a musical. In the mid-1800s, American artist John Banvard created the first georama, a 3,000 foot long scrolling painting celebrating the beauty of the Mississippi River, arguably the first ‘motion picture’. I missed the exhibit of his georama at the Saint Louis Art Museum, a couple of years ago. I think that that exhibit inspired this play. Barvard’s georama was a great success then and once paired with P.T. Barnum became an international one too, but Barvard and Barnum had a love-hate relationship that provided most of the tension in this play. John’s wife Elizabeth and their relationship acted as a counterbalancing influence. It was interesting to see how this play had evolved. For example, in the reading Elizabeth played the viola. In last night’s play the viola had been reduced to just a prop.
January is leaving like a lamb, but then it really hasn’t been that rough a winter. We went cycling yesterday and I definitely overdressed for the day, if not the season. Pictured are snow drops, found in Tower Grove Park and in the upper left-hand corner is a honey bee, which probably flew over from the neighboring botanical gardens. We heard on the street that the magnolias are blooming too. On Friday, we had Rep tickets, “The Lion in Winter” that tale of a royally dysfunctional family, Henry and Elinor, Richard and John and that other son.
After viewing the “Saint Louis Modern” show, I started to wander around the rest of the museum, just to see what new elements of the collection were now on display. I found this painting and was attracted to it by its nautical theme. While I was viewing it and taking its photo, one of the museum’s guards approached me and asked, “Do you like it?” I assented and she began to regale me with her history with the painting. She first found it downstairs in the decorative arts part of the museum, it was part of a period room display, but it had been so poorly situated that no one could really see it. She had asked an electrician to at least throw a spot on it, but was evidently surprised and pleased with herself to find it now on display in one of the museum’s main halls. She just wanted me to know. I call it an art education.
This painting also serves well for discussion of the Rep’s Christmas show, “Peter the Star Catcher”, which we saw yesterday afternoon. “Star Catcher” is a “Peter Pan” prequel that was co-written by the humorist Dave Barry. Barry offers us part “Pirates of Penances” and part “Pirates of the Caribbean”. It was funny, the jokes were good — no they weren’t, they were bloody awful, but let’s not split rabbits. All of the characters were there by the end of the play, Peter, the lost boys, the mermaids, the Indians, the pirates, the croc, Nana, Smee, Captain Hook and even Tinkerbell, all except Wendy. In her place we have Molly, played by the only female actor in the company. The play is the story of how these characters came to become themselves, in “Peter Pan”.
You will hardly know who I am or what I mean,
But I shall be good health to you nevertheless,
And filter and fiber your blood.
— Next to last verse from Song of Myself
I and You Program
Anne and I went out last night to celebrate my not being let go. We did dinner and a show. Dinner was at Big Sky, my favorite Webster restaurant, where I had my favorite Big Sky dish, the pot roast. Big Sky is all about American comfort food. The show, “I and You”, was in the Studio Theater, which is a nice way of saying the basement of the Loretto-Hilton. Here is the Rep’s synopsis of the play:
Anthony is an effortlessly popular “A” student; Caroline is a prickly cynic, homebound with a serious illness. This unlikely duo sits in Caroline’s room, trying to cobble together a homework report on Walt Whitman’s epic poem, “Song of Myself” in one night. As they work and procrastinate, argue and compromise, the teens begin to uncover each other’s hidden depths. Full of surprising humor and emotion, “I and You” explores bravery in the face of an uncertain future and the unique, mysterious connections that bind us.
“Prickly cynic” is one way to describe Caroline. I might have gone stronger there. Anthony motivations are less clear and his selfless persona aside, this unknown engendered suspicion in both Caroline and me. Lauren Gunderson has convincingly captured modern American teen speech with her writing. I can hardly wait to begin invoking some of the lexicon. The play’s title is derived from the homework assignment, they are supposed to report on Walt Whitman’s use of pronouns, which is eventually explained with such extemporaneous flair that I wish that I could have been an English major. This one-act, two person, 90 minute play can at times seem like a slog, but its ending makes it all worthwhile.