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      in Theater

      In ‘What to Send Up,’ I See You, Black American Theater

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      Our critic reflects on the significance of Aleshea Harris’s play, at BAM Fisher, for Black audiences.We didn’t know what to do about this piece.Whether I, a Black critic, should review Aleshea Harris’s breathtaking “What to Send Up When It Goes Down,” even though my former colleague Ben Brantley, a white critic, already reviewed and raved about the show’s initial run in 2018. Whether I should be in conversation with a white critic or another Black critic.This is the piece I came up with: I’m reporting on a moment in time when I, a Black critic and a Black woman in America, felt the safest and most embraced by my Blackness in a theater.On a gloomy Friday evening, I went to BAM Fisher for the play, being presented by the Brooklyn Academy of Music and Playwrights Horizons in association with the Movement Theater Company. I headed to the downstairs lobby, which featured portraits of Black men and women killed by the police. The room was full of Black people.If you can’t imagine the comfort of being with people who look like you in a space where art is being made, it’s something like sipping from a steaming cup in the dead of winter: the warmth is precious, immediate and shocking all at once.Harris, a veritable poet of a playwright who also wrote “Is God Is,” describes the play as “a space in the theater that is unrepentantly for and about Black people” — “a space for affirming, and reflecting.” She calls it “an anger spittoon” and “a dance party.” It’s true that “What to Send Up” feels less like a play than it does a series of cathartic experiences — which isn’t to say it isn’t beautiful theater, because it is still very much that.Early on in the show, directed by Whitney White, in a kind of intimate workshop, one performer (Kalyne Coleman, who is stunning as both a performer and the host) asks the audience members, who are all standing in a large semicircle, to step forward if they’d ever witnessed a race-based act of police brutality or if they’d ever been a victim of a racially motivated act of police brutality. Most people stepped forward after the former. About a dozen people, of the 50 or so in attendance, stepped forward in response to the latter, including a 30-something Black couple.Then a series of skits charts all the horrific ways Black people are stereotyped and generally misrepresented in art and in real life. There are biting parodies of troubling Black tropes in entertainment, like the supplicant servant figures in “Driving Miss Daisy” and “The Help.” And there are surreal monologues (one woman recounts how she snatched the mouth off a white man and how it flopped like a fish) alongside stepping, choral songs and spoken word.This was a show that validated my fear and sorrow as a Black citizen of this country and yet still alerted me to the privilege of having had a sheltered suburban upbringing. I thought about the first time someone directly called me the N-word, casually slinging it to the side of my face while I was walking through Midtown Manhattan one weeknight. I thought of all the times I’ve felt uncomfortable as a Black person in a space — in my career, in academia, in social settings. I thought about my growing discomfort around police officers, especially in the last several years.It’s rare for a play to allow me access to both that validation and that awareness of my privilege — because so rarely is Blackness shown onstage and so pointedly aimed toward a Black audience with all the nuances and variations that come within the experiences of their lives.Denise Manning, left, and Kalyne Coleman in “What to Send Up When It Goes Down.”Donna WardAt one point in the show, there is a symbolic Black death, tender though devastating, followed by an extended moment of silence. At another point, we were invited to write messages to Black Americans — they would join the scores of postcards with messages from other audience members that adorn the walls of the theater. Later we were asked to let out a collective, soul-cleansing scream — something I, an introvert, would usually pass on. But the mighty wall of sound led by Black voices — a great sound of exaltation and frustration and defiance all at once — invited me in, and my own voice, unsteady and hesitant, joined. It was like stretching a muscle I never realized existed; the feeling was overwhelming in its depth and release.But, I wondered, can any such space truly and wholly be for a Black audience, especially when there are white audience members there, too? Some part of me was quietly policing the white people in the theater — how they responded to certain scenes and questions, if and when they laughed at certain jokes, if they seemed to hold themselves accountable, if they were taking up too much space.As a critic and a reporter, part of what I do is read the room — how and why audiences react to the happenings onstage, and what that says about the work. But here, I didn’t want to care. In the show’s final minutes, non-Black audience members were invited to leave the theater and gather in the lobby. When I recounted this to a friend afterward, she asked what the white audiences saw, if anything, but I don’t know and — I know this is shameful to admit — I don’t care.I am concerned only with how Harris’s play made me and the other Black people in that room feel. I noted how the couple from earlier clutched each other through most of the show. At some point, the woman left and returned wet-eyed with a handful of tissues. Her partner lovingly rubbed her back.I also ended the show in tears, which I hadn’t expected — but among Black performers and audience members, I felt newly seen and safe. I had a fresh moment of realization, considering my duty as a Black critic. And as a Black poet, I had a moment of inspiration: I want more art like this.Affirmations, exclamations of joy, moments of commemoration: I’ll skip the particulars of those last few holy minutes that were exclusive to the Black audience. I want to honor and extend the loving, communal Black space Harris creates in an art form that has so few of them. And I want to keep it for myself — and for that couple and for the Black woman who, earlier in the show, had said she wished for a future version of this country where she could feel more “human.”I took a slow tour of the theater after the show, and read the messages others had left. “When you breathe, the universe sings,” one notecard read. Any other day in any other place in America, I’d probably find that sentiment too hokey. When have I ever heard singing when inhaling the air of this supposedly great free nation?But at BAM Fisher on that Friday night, I believed in a song of community, of strength and beauty and Black life despite whatever funereal tune is forced upon the lives of Black Americans. Of course I believe in theater for everyone, but I also believe in theater for Black people, and Black people alone.Leaving the venue, I thought of what a pleasure and privilege it was to receive theater gift-wrapped especially for me. And what a pleasure and privilege it is for me to laud it. But the greater pleasure? To tell you something special happened among the Black people in a theater with a qualifier: This play, non-Black theater lover, is not for or about you, and that’s perfectly fine.What to Send Up When It All Goes DownThrough July 11 at BAM Fisher, Brooklyn; bam.org More

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      in Theater

      A Call to Diversify Theater Stage Managers

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      New initiatives aim to broaden the pool of stage managers of color and introduce antiracist practices into graduate training.Perhaps the hardest-working people in theater, stage managers oversee all aspects of a production. They work closely with the director to mark down every piece of staging — from where the actors and sets are placed, to the sound and lighting cues. During “tech week,” when a show loads into a theater, they run the rehearsal process to ensure that technical aspects of a production flow smoothly before opening night.The stage manager is also responsible for communicating with all the various backstage teams, from the lighting and sound experts to the dressers helping actors do quick changes.“A stage manager is like a conductor,” said Lisa Porter, who over a 25-year career has worked on shows at the Public Theater and the La Jolla Playhouse, among others. “We conduct the tempo and the tone of rehearsals throughout the entire process.“That’s why,” she added, “I believe fluency around antiracism is so important.”Like many positions in theater, however, stage management has remained stubbornly homogeneous. A study published by Actors’ Equity Association (the union for both actors and stage managers) revealed that between 2016 and 2019, 76 percent of stage managers employed on theatrical productions across the country were white. Only 2.63 percent were Black. As with many industries and areas of the arts, the George Floyd protests forced Broadway into a conversation about representation, and Black stage managers and their white allies have been active participants. They are establishing new organizations for racial equity, creating more opportunities for up-and-coming stage managers of color, and even examining aspects of their job that may do more harm than good.Because stage management is a behind-the-scenes job, many people who grow up doing theater don’t know it exists.Narda E. Alcorn, who is stage managing Shakespeare in the Park’s “Merry Wives” this summer, started as an actress. During her sophomore year at Los Angeles County High School of the Arts, she realized she wasn’t the best in her class, but discovered another set of skills.“I was very aware of diversity, representation, and trying to be inclusive, but I was not actively antiracist” until recently, said Narda E. Alcorn, a veteran stage manager.Simbarashe Cha for The New York Times“I knew how to anticipate people’s needs,” she said, “and how communicate to different types of people, like how to speak differently to an actor versus a director or a production person. I didn’t realize there was a job for it until my teacher, thank goodness, recognized it in me.”Alcorn, who is Black, received a BFA in production management from DePaul University and an MFA in stage management from Yale Drama School, where she met Porter, who is white.They’ve been friends ever since, and are both professors of stage management: Porter at the University of California at San Diego, Alcorn at Yale. They incorporated their respective experiences into their 2019 book, “Stage Management Theory as a Guide to Practice.”“Race has always been a factor when Lisa has received a job and when I’ve received a job, conscious or unconsciously,” Alcorn said. “However, in our country, whiteness is not named: It is the default, the norm. Peers have often cited my race as the reason I was hired, whereas with Lisa they cite her experience and skill. For years I felt diminished and tokenized.” (Porter agreed with her colleague’s assertions.)When Black stage managers do get hired, it can be difficult for them to make their voices heard.After graduating with an MFA in stage management from the Columbia University School of the Arts, R. Christopher Maxwell was hired to work on the acclaimed Broadway production of “Oklahoma!” But instead of being put on the stage management team, he was hired as a production assistant, a lower position in the hierarchy.Maxwell, at center, working on “Mlima’s Tale” at Repertory Theater of St. LouisNeeta Satam for The New York TimesThe play script from which Maxwell calls cues.Neeta Satam for The New York TimesLaying down marks on the stage.Neeta Satam for The New York Times“I didn’t have a voice in the room,” said Maxwell, who is currently assistant stage manager for Lynn Nottage’s play “Mlima’s Tale” at the Repertory Theater of St. Louis.Even on shows where he has been a more prominent part of the production, Maxwell said he has struggled to get others to listen to him. On one show, he said he tried to explain to a white production manager that the dancers in the chorus had to wear a certain kind of shoe that matched their skin tone. “They didn’t listen and bought the wrong kind of shoes,” he said.Before the murder of George Floyd, Alcorn, Maxwell and other stage managers of color had rarely spoken up about their experiences.Lisa Dawn Cave, who has been stage managing since the 1990s, helped found Broadway & Beyond.Simbarashe Cha for The New York Times“After George Floyd, people were able to see the disparity in how people of color are treated,” said Lisa Dawn Cave, a Black woman who has been stage managing since the late 1990s. “It’s not that people didn’t take it seriously, it’s that they didn’t see it as widely as they thought, or they’d say, ‘Yes, it’s happening, but we hired one person of color on the team so it’s fine.’”The statistics from the Equity study show the importance of making sure there are Black stage managers in the pipeline. “I only knew four or five of them,” Maxwell said. “So it became my personal mission to see who was out there.”As part of that mission, he co-founded the Black Theater Caucus, where he is currently vice president of production artists. They have partnered with organizations like Cave’s Broadway & Beyond to create initiatives for stage managers of color who have been overlooked.Maxwell has become a delegate to Equity, where he helped to successfully pass a bill that resolves to track the hiring practices of the union’s bargaining partners, increase digital access to auditions, and recognize Indigenous people in union communications.He has also highlighted Black and Latino workers in an Instagram series called Celebrating 101 Black Stage Managers. The Stage Managers’ Association took notice, offering free membership and setting up meetings with veteran stage managers for those singled out.Matthew Stern, who has been stage managing for more than 20 years, runs the Broadway Stage Management Symposium, an annual networking event that created scholarships this year that allowed five stage managers of color to attend the May conference.Matthew Stern runs an annual networking event which this year created scholarships to bring in stage managers from underrepresented groups.Simbarashe Cha for The New York Times“It makes you realize that of course there are great Black stage managers,” said Stern, who is white. “We just don’t know them because we haven’t been in the same circles, and because of our circumstances and our privilege.”American regional theaters have also stepped up. On June 30, the Alliance Theater in Atlanta announced that Shaina Pierce, a Black graduate of the University of Alabama, would be their first holder of a new fellowship for BIPOC stage managers.For Alcorn, change needs to start with training itself.In the past, she said, “I was very aware of diversity, representation and trying to be inclusive, but I was not actively antiracist, because I didn’t actually recognize it as a value. Now I believe it’s as important as empathy, kindness and striving for excellence.”In a 2020 essay for the theater website HowlRound, Alcorn and Porter admitted that as stage managers, they had “unconsciously and complicitly upheld white supremacy culture within the production process.” Now when she teaches stage management, Alcorn shows students how to dismantle preconceptions that she believes can cause harm, like perfectionism.“Stage managers are human beings who make mistakes and errors like every other member of a team,” she said. “I prefer to teach the value of excellence,” which she defines as “addressing mistakes with grace and generosity, and moving forward with greater understanding.” More

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      in Movies

      ‘The One and Only Dick Gregory’ Review: A Peek at a Comic Legend

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      The documentary examines the many lives of the stand-up and activist who inspired a generation of performers.In a remarkable article from October 1960, Ebony magazine asked why there were no Black stars in comedy, blaming racist double standards held by audiences and television bookers as well as a new sensitivity (the term “politically correct” had not been coined) that wouldn’t tolerate performers trafficking in stereotypes from the minstrel era. Three months later, Dick Gregory, mentioned briefly as a “newcomer,” made the question irrelevant in one night.When the manager at the Playboy Club in Chicago discovered the crowd was made up of white Southern businessmen in town for a convention, he suggested that Gregory postpone. The comedian refused, went onstage and killed. He did so well, his contract there was extended, and led to national press and an appearance on “The Tonight Show.” Gregory became a crossover star, a pioneering comedic social critic who inspired a generation of stand-ups.“The One and Only Dick Gregory,” an aptly titled new documentary, does justice to this fabled performance, setting the scene and the stakes. But what stands out most about this revolutionary moment in comedy is what a small role it plays in the overall portrait here. Gregory, who died in 2017, lived so many lives that he presents a challenge for anyone trying to document them. The director Andre Gaines tries to capture as many as possible, to a fault. By covering so much ground, it doesn’t have room to dig too deep. But along with some very funny footage of a master of his craft, it offers a convincing argument that while Gregory became famous for his comedy, what made him such a riveting cultural figure is what he did after he left it behind.Gaines recruits a talent-rich cast of comics (Wanda Sykes, Dave Chappelle) to describe the performer. Chris Rock is particularly insightful and blunt, comparing Gregory’s relaxed, patient, cigarette-wielding delivery with that of Chappelle. Gregory was ahead of his time in his material on police brutality and racism, but just as he became a star, his activism heated up. A demonstration for voting rights in Mississippi was a turning point, and the movie covers his work and relationships with the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and the N.A.A.C.P. leader Medgar Evers. By the 1980s, Gregory had stopped playing clubs and became an early health and wellness guru while still waging a broad array of political fights, going on fasts and long runs to earn attention for causes like fighting hunger and obesity.There’s clearly a price to pay for living as active a life as Dick Gregory did. He was rarely home to see his family (his kids are astute talking heads), and toward the end of his life, legal troubles led to financial collapse and the loss of his home. The last half-hour is jarringly downbeat if slightly underexamined, with Gregory returning to clubs and appearing in a Rob Schneider movie, “The Hot Chick,” that allows him to get much-needed health care coverage.The legend of Dick Gregory gives way to a peek of him as a more complex man, albeit one much funnier than most everyone else. On the reboot of his talk show, Arsenio Hall asked him what drove him. Gregory retorted: “My bills.”The One and Only Dick GregoryNot rated. Running time: 1 hour 53 minutes. Watch on Showtime platforms. More

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      in Television

      James Corden's Food Bit Draws Ire and a Petition For It to End

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      For years, the late-night TV host has dared celebrities to eat choice foods, but an online petition is calling for it to end.For years, the late-night television host James Corden has played a food-based truth or dare with celebrities called “Spill Your Guts or Fill Your Guts.” Participants choose to either answer personal questions or take a bite of a food deemed disgusting to eat, like ghost pepper hot sauce, a sardine smoothie or dried caterpillars.“Wow, it all looks so terrible,” Jimmy Kimmel, the host of late night show “Jimmy Kimmel Live!,” said as he appeared on Mr. Corden’s segment in 2016. “I know people can’t smell it, but it doesn’t smell good, either.”Mr. Corden responded, “It’s really disgusting, it’s horrific,” as he spun a table with Asian ingredients and snacks like chicken feet, balut, pig’s blood and thousand-year eggs.While the segment has received scrutiny in the past, an online petition posted this month has brought renewed criticism that its portrayal of Asian foods as disgusting is harmful. More than 46,000 people have signed the petition, asking Mr. Corden to change the food options on the segment or end its run.“Everyone is entitled to their opinion on food,” said Kim Saira, 24, a Los Angeles activist who organized the petition and set up a protest last Thursday near Mr. Corden’s studio, posing behind a sign that said “Delicious, Not Disgusting.” “My whole point is that James Corden is a white person and is actively using ingredients from Asian cultures and profiting from it and showing it in such a negative light. There’s a way to not like foods and still be respectful about it.”Ms. Saira said she was confused when she first watched the segment featuring balut about two years ago.Balut, a fertilized duck egg, is a late-night snack Ms. Saira grew up eating when she visited relatives in the Philippines every year. She has memories of sitting around a table with her family during power blackouts, which were common, eating the balut by candlelight while they told stories.“I didn’t know why they were calling a food that was so sentimental ‘disgusting,’” said Ms. Saira, who is Filipina and Chinese American.Mr. Corden has been doing the bit for years. A YouTube playlist created by his program has videos as far back as 2016. Speaking to Howard Stern on his radio show June 16, Mr. Corden addressed the controversy.“The next time we do that bit, we absolutely won’t involve or use any of those foods,” Mr. Corden said. “Our show is a show about joy and light and love. We don’t want to make a show to upset anybody.”Mr. Corden’s staff did not respond to requests for comment for this article.“We’re in a kind of cultural moment where bits like this one exist with this increasing acceptance of cultural foods,” said Alison Alkon, a professor at the University of the Pacific. “We’re kind of in this Ping-Pong dialectic.”Using food to prompt a response of disgust, for entertainment, has a long history, said Merry White, an anthropology professor at Boston University. In the United States, the game show “Fear Factor” challenged contestants to eat foods with ingredients like fish eyes, cow bile and coagulated blood paste. Reactistan, a YouTube reaction channel, has had Pakistani people try foods that were strange to them, like American hamburgers, doughnuts and candies such as Ring Pops and Airheads.Even Mr. Corden, who is British, hosted a segment using foods from his homeland, such as haggis and a smoothie with fish, chips and mushy peas.Lok Siu, an associate professor in the Department of Ethnic Studies at the University of California, Berkeley, said the practice disrespects people’s cultures. The choice of Asian foods has made Asian Americans feel more vulnerable or marginalized during a time of rising violence against them.The perception of Asians in the United States has historically been defined through food, Professor Siu said.“You use food as a metaphor to describe that distance, the kind of strangeness between a group of people that you don’t understand and their habits, the way they’re eating, the smell that comes with the spices,” she said. “There’s something around the way we discuss food, the way we think about food in our acceptance or rejection of it, it’s a rejection of a culture and the people that’s associated with it.”She added that Mr. Corden’s use of Asian foods on the segment defines which foods are considered mainstream, delicious or disgusting; food is a metaphor for what is considered 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a:visited{color:#333;-webkit-text-decoration-color:#ccc;text-decoration-color:#ccc;}.css-1rh1sk1 a:hover{-webkit-text-decoration:none;text-decoration:none;}“Why is this not seen as racist immediately?” Professor Siu said. “If he made fun of any other group, would there be a much more broader understanding that that’s racist? It’s not immediately thought of as being racist and damaging because it’s Asian food. There is such a denial of anti-Asian racism in the U.S., and this is a prime example of it.”In Mr. Corden’s most recent episodes, he has served up blood and pork jelly, scorpion-dusted plantains, a thousand-year egg nog (made with thousand-year eggs), cow tongue, turkey testicles, an ant-covered corn dog and a salmon, tuna and fish-eye milkshake.For some Filipino chefs, who grew up eating some of the ingredients that have been mocked on Mr. Corden’s show, the renewed focus on the segment has stirred up memories.Lou Boquila, the chef and owner of Perla, in Philadelphia, said he remembers questioning why he ate balut — which tastes of duck broth, and other ingredients like intestines, tongues or blood — when he was growing up in the United States.“It’s actually very delicious, nothing out of the ordinary for us, but it put us in a different light,” Mr. Boquila said. “If you look at all the great chefs, they use every part of the animal.”“You try American food, speak American, it made you not proud of what you ate growing up, and I was totally stupid for not standing up for it,” he added. “It steers you toward being more Americanized and turning back on your culture.”Javier Fernandez, the chef and owner at Kuya Ja’s Lechon Belly, in Rockville, Md., said “Spill Your Guts” presents an opportunity for him to educate people about Filipino food, the culture and ingredients like pig’s head and pork blood (also featured on Mr. Corden’s show).“When people talk about Filipino food or these non-American ingredients where they feel it’s gross to see, it does better for the culture,” he said. “It helps promote what the cuisine is like. My job is to promote the cuisine itself.”Follow NYT Food on Twitter and NYT Cooking on Instagram, Facebook, YouTube and Pinterest. Get regular updates from NYT Cooking, with recipe suggestions, cooking tips and shopping advice. More

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      in Theater

      Review: Martha Washington, Hilariously Haunted by Her Slaves

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      James Ijames’s amusingly cynical and eclectic new play, “The Most Spectacularly Lamentable Trial of Miz Martha Washington,” is at the Hudson Valley Shakespeare Festival through July 30.On an evening train back from the Hudson Valley last weekend, I overheard two drunken friends — one white, one Indian American — having a loud, expletive-ridden debate two rows behind me.History was irrelevant, the white friend was saying. Between Cold Spring and Yonkers, they argued about police brutality, institutional racism and citizenship, but they kept circling back to the topic of reparations. “If my grandfather was a serial killer, why do I have to pay for his crimes?” he asked. He said history was being used against him. The past is the past — so why should he suffer?That this experience followed a performance of James Ijames’s stunning new play, “The Most Spectacularly Lamentable Trial of Miz Martha Washington,” directed by Taylor Reynolds at the Hudson Valley Shakespeare Festival, was an event of stage-worthy irony. The theater gods certainly have a sense of humor.And so does Ijames (“Fat Ham,” “TJ Loves Sally 4 Ever”), though his is laced with a brutal sense of cynicism. I say that as a compliment: What else could be more appropriate to the obscene joke that is this country’s treatment of its Black residents? In “Miz Martha Washington,” George Washington is dead and his wife, Martha (played by Nance Williamson), seems about ready to follow him to the grave. Ann Dandridge (a sharp Britney Simpson) — her slave and also her half sister, who is unfortunately tangled up in Martha’s line of ancestry — tends to the former first lady while raising her own son, William (a perfectly jejune Tyler Fauntleroy).Martha is weak and feverish, talking nonsense and having hallucinations while Ann and the rest of her slaves — the Washingtons held hundreds, historically — continue to cook her food, clean her floors, chop her wood and polish her silverware, as they’ve done her whole life. But now they’re antsy and less accommodating: In his will, Washington offered the slaves freedom upon his wife’s death.In a series of hallucinations, her slaves appear as lawyers, prosecutors and historical figures who try to show her how accountable she is in a system of oppression. Her fever dreams include chats with Abigail Adams, Betsy Ross and Thomas Jefferson, all of them Black; a game show hosted by a Black King George and Queen Charlotte; and a “People’s Court”-style trial. She should just do the right thing and free her slaves while she’s still alive, but it’s hard to be ethical when you’re accustomed to a certain lifestyle.“Miz Martha Washington” bears the signature of Ijames’s clever wit: He writes the slaves as more than docile stereotypes; these slaves have personality to spare, and they joke and sing with a threatening jocularity. You know how baring one’s teeth can be a sign of joy or hostility? Ijames does.Two female slaves, Doll (Cyndii Johnson) and Priscilla (Claudia Logan), act as twin jesters in the play, clowning and gossiping at Martha’s expense — as when Priscilla acts out what she hopes will be Martha’s “death rattle,” a hilariously odd sound that falls somewhere between a groan and a screech. They don’t talk purely in the expected dialect of stage slaves, but in an anachronistic mix of that with modern Black American vernacular.All of the elements of the production have a bit of this playful mash-up approach (which recalls the style of other great Black playwrights like George C. Wolfe, Adrienne Kennedy and Suzan-Lori Parks). In terms of plot, the play recalls, of all things, “A Christmas Carol,” as Martha is haunted by her wrongs. But “Miz Martha Washington” is never as procedural as that; scenes set in the real world are broken up by dance interludes with disco lights and by surreal fantasies like a reverse auction in which the slaves, posed as owners, examine and bid on Martha.Even the costumes, by Hahnji Jang, are sportively eclectic, with clashing patterns and colors — along with additional anachronistic details, like hoop earrings and sneakers. Under Reynolds’s puckish direction, the tone, too, whips from exaggerated sitcom-style humor (hammy facial reactions, quick comedic beats) to poetic surrealism (a young slave boy’s prophetic monologue) to tragedy (accounts of abuse, sexual assault).Cyndii Johnson, foreground center, plays a slave who also serves as a kind of jester, joking and gossiping at Martha’s expense.Sara Krulwich/The New York TimesWhen the slaves sing and dance and drum around poor, sick Martha’s bed, it looks like a dark sacrificial ritual or an exorcism of America’s evils. And when one slave laughs, and the sound is joined by an offstage chorus of laughter from other slaves, the thunder is spirited at first but then quickly becomes unnerving. As Ijames notes in his script, “Laughter is a weapon.”And yet Martha isn’t a meek, quivering pupil to the slaves’ lessons on the debts America owes to its Black people; Williamson pivots from pleas to commands, fear to rage, declaring herself America’s mother, a woman who “did right” by her slaves, and refusing to be spooked into more righteous behavior.Behind the simple staging of Martha’s bed on a sandy patch of ground, an opening in the tent on the beautiful lawn of the Boscobel House and Gardens, in Garrison, N.Y., revealed a backdrop of mountains and a hazy blue sky. This view, which dimmed over time into the buzzing, uninterrupted darkness of the evening, for me recalled the ways our American mythos is tied to grand landscapes — “amber waves” and “purple mountain majesties” for white explorers and white landowners. All fitting for a show confronting questions about freedom, inheritance and birthright. (“Miz Martha Washington” is part of the festival’s 34th and final season before it moves to a new location.)I couldn’t help but imagine how much greater the show would be on a big Broadway stage with all the fixings, so to speak. After all, Ijames’s revisionism works, in many ways, as the inverse to “Hamilton.” “Hamilton” uses its Black and brown actors to reclaim history as a story of hope for immigrants, minorities, the disenfranchised. It’s a rebranding of the American dream. “Miz Martha Washington” uses its Black actors to expose the blights of the American dream and the hypocrisies of our historical narratives.And so the hilarious Brandon St. Clair is the obliging slave Davy as well as a very Black — and priceless — George Washington, resurrected from the dead. And another slave, Sucky Boy (Ralph Adriel Johnson), appears as a humorously tactless Black Thomas Jefferson.Does the play have a happy, inspirational ending? Well, let me just say that despite Ijames’s antic fabrications, he is ultimately tethered to the tragedy that is America. And we all know how that story goes.On the train after the show, the conversation between the two friends seemed to stretch on forever. When the white friend got off, after saying he had enjoyed the “discourse,” a fresh silence took over. Infuriated by the ignorant, racist statements I had been hearing, I walked over and spoke to the Indian American man, a lawyer named Ash.“You’re totally right on everything,” I said. “I’m not sure you should bother.” He gave me a fist bump and said that he still wanted to try.About halfway through the play, Priscilla says to Doll, “Hard work openin’ folks’ eyes,” to which Doll responds, “Huh … you can say that again.”But are we all accountable for our fellow citizens who are, if not explicitly racist, at least complicit in the systems and institutions that degrade and oppress? Does Ijames consider his work educational, a corrective? I would wager not. History has taught us that even our most high-minded foundational ideals — “all men are created equal” — can be interpreted to a single group’s advantage or be a basis of manipulation. You can’t teach a person humanity if it’s a lesson they don’t want to learn.In the fairy tale version of our country’s racial politics, we all learn about justice and skip happily toward the future. I, for one, am done with fairy tales as history — and patient explanations. Give me the harder truth of Ijames’s fantastical version any day.The Most Spectacularly Lamentable Trial of Miz Martha WashingtonThrough July 30 at Hudson Valley Shakespeare Festival, Garrison, N.Y.; 845-265-9575, hvshakespeare.org. More

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      in Theater

      ‘A Level of Abuse’: Laying Bare Theater’s Dirty Secrets

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      Robert O’Hara and Torrey Townsend discuss their collaboration on “Off Broadway,” a biting satire about a company whose leaders are willfully oblivious of their racial and gender biases.One day in 2016, Torrey Townsend unexpectedly received a message from Robert O’Hara, a writer and director then on the rise thanks to his raucous, exuberantly provocative satires “Bootycandy” and “Barbecue.”The email was actually sent to Townsend’s boss, the artistic director of a respected New York theater, but he had access to the account as part of his administrative duties. O’Hara was not writing about some exciting new project, though.He was calling out the company, which both men declined to identify, for its failure to employ artists of color.“He really struck me as somebody who I felt aligned with politically,” Townsend said. He reached out and eventually invited O’Hara to his show “The Workshop,” in which an aging almost-was leads students in a playwriting class.Benja Kay Thomas, Jesse Pennington and Jessica Frances Dukes in Robert O’Hara’s 2014 play “Bootycandy” at Playwrights Horizons.Sara Krulwich/The New York Times“I was enthralled and amazed,” O’Hara said. “It challenged sacred cows of our industry, and I think we all need to be held accountable for the work we do.” He agreed to direct Townsend’s new play, “Off Broadway,” a lacerating, wickedly funny portrait of a struggling New York company whose leaders are willfully oblivious of their racial and gender biases, which include stunt casting so preposterously offensive, you can only laugh at it. Enablers of the status quo, meanwhile, include a wealthy patron and, yes, The New York Times.O’Hara’s star rose further after he directed Jeremy O. Harris’s “Slave Play,” and an industry reading of “Off Broadway,” starring Dylan Baker as the white heir apparent to a white artistic director, took place in 2019. “If Robert wanted me to work on something, I was totally going to do it,” Baker said. “And as soon as I read the script I said ‘Who is this guy Torrey Townsend? He knows how to write.’ ”Yet the play wasn’t getting picked up, with only the Brooklyn incubator the Bushwick Starr expressing interest, according to Townsend.Eventually, he and O’Hara worked out a deal for a streaming iteration with Harris, who has been helping produce theatrical projects (including the recent Pulitzer Prize finalist and digital native “Circle Jerk”) with HBO seed money, and producers from “Slave Play.” The production — with Baker again, alongside his wife, Becky Ann Baker, Jessica Frances Dukes, Richard Kind and Kara Wang — has already been recorded, and will be free to stream on the new platform Broadstream Media from June 24-27. (Advance sign-up is required.)O’Hara and Townsend recently sat down for a joint video chat about the nonprofit theater world’s dysfunctions and the play’s comedic sneak attacks. These are edited excerpts from the conversation.Austin Pendleton, center right, as a washed-up playwright who teaches a course in dramatic writing in Torrey Townsend’s “The Workshop.”Knud AdamsDo you think American theater is wary of scrutinizing itself too closely because it feels so beleaguered that it closes ranks?ROBERT O’HARA Yes, and we also take things much more personally: We think that if you talk about a play, you’re actually talking about the personal worth of the people who created it. And so if you criticize, it’s almost like you’re criticizing that person, as opposed to criticizing the institution and the systemic racism inside those choices.I am obliged to point out the obvious, which is that Torrey is a white man.O’HARA Well, racism was invented by white people [chortles] so I would love to know what white people think of their invention. It was exciting to see how a white guy would deal with their invention of racism in the American theater, and own it.Do you think theater has gotten away with so much for so long because it assumes artists can be judged by different rules?TORREY TOWNSEND I think there’s a quasi-religious component to this whole culture. There’s no other way to explain the level of exploitation that goes on unless it’s being sustained by an illusion of that kind. In 2018, Michael Paulson published a story [in The New York Times] about Gordon Edelstein and the Long Wharf Theater. [Edelstein, at the time the artistic director of the theater, had been accused by multiple women of sexual harassment.] About six months later, a firm in New Haven hired an attorney, Penny Mason, to write an independent review. In her concluding remarks she says that Edelstein’s mantra at the theater was “we are a family” — not a workplace, a family.O’HARA We’re always using words like “home” or “artistic home.” But there’s a level of abuse that happens in homes that we sort of allowed to happen: “Well, that’s just the way I was brought up.” We accept a level of trauma, I think, in our childhood and upbringing.Why tweak “Off Broadway” so it now also deals with theater during Covid-19, instead of simply transposing the 2019 version on Zoom?TOWNSEND The script lent itself to an update because it was already about the catastrophization of the theater. A lot of behavior that we witnessed in theaters during the pandemic has been totally absurd and deranged, and we wanted to honor that [laughs].O’HARA I feel that it would be ridiculous to create a new piece about Off Broadway that doesn’t acknowledge that it was gone for a year. That, to me, led to an even deeper sense of satire: you’re still holding on to these beliefs, but you don’t have a theater.The married couple Becky Ann Baker and Dylan Baker in a scene from Torrey Townsend’s new play, “Off Broadway.”via Torrey Townsend“Off Broadway” has dark undertones, but it also is, unabashedly, a comedy. Was it hard to refine what gets a laugh, considering some of the subject matter?TOWNSEND It requires constant effort, constant trial and error. It is very important to me that the work be funny.O’HARA There’s a comfort level where people can laugh, and then you can get behind them and show them some truths. Sometimes funny is painful; sometimes pain is funny. Sometimes the way I can deal with the institutionalized racism and homophobia and sexism and assault and harassment is to simply laugh. Because if I don’t, I will go out and harm something, or harm an individual, or say things that are harmful.Why focus on a small Off Broadway company?O’HARA When you think of the shows that address the theater, they’re usually about Broadway. But on Broadway you have to create your whole team every time, whereas Off Broadway and regional theater are set inside institutions. And what an institution does with creativity is never really examined.TOWNSEND It was important to me to weave the language about money into this play. The corporate world is more a part of the nonprofit theater world than we’re really aware of. There is a connection between this corporatization of American theater and the underlying abuse that ensues because we are conducting business as if we’re inside Trump Tower. I don’t think there’s a difference between the way Michael Cohen and Donald Trump are doing business and the way people are doing business inside an administrative office. It’s the dirty secret of the American theater: These theaters are run by bank managers, by accountants, and their donors are rich people working on Wall Street.O’HARA I have been head-hunted to see if I was interested in running an institution, and one of the most important skills they are looking for is an ability to fund-raise. For an institution to work, you have to know the lay of the land. And the lay of the land is that, although it says nonprofit, we are not trying to lose any more money — we’re trying to get as much money as possible.What is the solution: more public funding, more division of labor between artistic and fund-raising duties?O’HARA One of the things I think is necessary is diversity. Diversity will breed different people with different skill sets to show you different ways to run this institution. You need to disrupt the person in charge, you need to disrupt what power means and how power is distributed. That in itself will generate a new relationship to fund-raising. I don’t know very many happy artistic directors. There’s also a level of division that needs to be had: Am I going to be the artistic head and can that actually allow other people to deal with the educational and the finances and all this other stuff?The show points out how the system has long reproduced itself.O’HARA You have people who feel it’s OK to run an institution for 30 [expletive] years. “I’m against white supremacy but I want to run this [expletive] for 30 [expletive] years.” And I’m like, “No, get out! Go run something else!” They know who they are. And it’s unacceptable. They’re fossils.Off BroadwayJune 24-27; broad.stream/off-broadway More

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      South African Opera Star Says She Was Mistreated by French Police

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      Pretty Yende, an acclaimed soprano, says she was forced to submit to a body search at a Paris airport. “I felt stripped of my human dignity,” she said.The South African soprano Pretty Yende expected her visit this week to France, where she is starring in a production of Bellini’s “La Sonnambula,” to be relatively uneventful.But when she arrived at Paris’s main airport on Monday, Yende was taken aback. The French authorities told her she did not have the proper documents to enter the country. They took her for questioning and forced her to submit to a body search that she described as invasive.“I felt stripped of my human dignity,” Yende said in an email. “It was absolutely uncomfortable.”Yende took to social media to share her experience, saying she was “stripped and searched like a criminal offender” during the ordeal, which lasted more than two hours. While she was not asked to remove her clothes, she says, the police told her, without explanation, to take off her shoes and kept her in a cold, dark room. She suggested that she had been singled out because she is Black.“Police brutality is real for someone who looks like me,” Yende wrote on Facebook, adding that she feared for her life.Yende’s account was shared widely online, with fans and artists expressing outrage and calling the incident an example of racism and discrimination in French society.The French authorities disputed Yende’s portrayal of the incident, saying they acted in accordance with standard procedures. The police say Yende was forced to submit to a pat-down but say it was carried out in a professional manner by a female officer. They acknowledge her cellphone was taken away; she was given access to a landline phone while she was being held at the airport.“We made the usual checks,” the National Police said in a statement. “We did what we do with any passenger facing the same problems.”The police said Yende, who landed at Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris around 3 p.m. Monday on a flight from Milan, did not have a valid visa to enter France. Yende presented a provisional residence permit from Italy, where she lives, but the French authorities said she needed a separate one-time visa. Yende and her lawyer say she had all the documents required by law to gain entry.The authorities eventually issued Yende a visa and allowed her to go around 6 p.m., after speaking with managers at the Théâtre des Champs-Élysées in Paris, where she was to perform on Tuesday.The South African embassy in France said it was aware of the incident and had raised it with the French authorities.“Notwithstanding these unfortunate events, we are pleased that Ms. Yende is continuing with her scheduled performances in Paris,” said Lihle Mancoba, a spokeswoman for the embassy.Yende, 36, is a renowned figure in opera, a charismatic coloratura soprano who has performed on many of the world’s leading stages, including the Teatro alla Scala in Milan and the Metropolitan Opera in New York.Born in a small town in South Africa, she has won wide acclaim in an industry historically dominated by white performers. Since last week, she has been singing the role of Amina in “La Sonnambula” at the Théâtre des Champs-Élysées.Yende received an enthusiastic ovation for her performance on Tuesday night, her fourth time in the role this month. But she said her experience at the airport was never far from her mind.“It was very, very hard for me,” she said in an email after the performance. “I was shaking and couldn’t focus.” More

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      in Movies

      ‘In the Heights’ y el colorismo: lo que se pierde cuando se borra a los afrolatinos

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      La película, ambientada en un barrio neoyorquino conocido como la Pequeña República Dominicana, no incluyó a latinos de piel oscura en los papeles principales. Críticos y reporteros del Times analizan cómo repercute esa ausencia.In the Heights, la muy postergada adaptación de Hollywood del musical de Broadway, se presentó como un avance para la representación latina en Hollywood, pero ha suscitado una conversación sobre el colorismo y el reparto de la película.El barrio neoyorquino en el que se desarrolla la historia, Washington Heights, es predominantemente afrodominicano. En una entrevista, Felice León, productora de video para The Root, le preguntó a Jon M. Chu, el director, y a algunas de las estrellas sobre la falta de protagonistas de piel oscura en la película: “Como mujer negra de ascendencia cubana, específicamente de la ciudad de Nueva York”, le dijo, “sería negligente por mi parte no reconocer el hecho de que la mayoría de sus actores principales son personas latinas de piel clara o blanca”. Chu dijo que se trataba de una conversación pendiente y de algo sobre lo que necesitaba educarse. Al final, dijo, trataron “de conseguir a la gente que era mejor para esos papeles”.Lin-Manuel Miranda, integrante del equipo creativo de la película, que incluye a la escritora Quiara Alegría Hudes, abordó las críticas la semana pasada en un comunicado en Twitter. Se disculpó por quedarse corto al “intentar pintar un mosaico de esta comunidad”. Varios latinos destacados salieron en defensa de Miranda, incluida la pionera actriz latina Rita Moreno, que más tarde se retractó de sus comentarios. No es la primera vez que Chu tiene que responder a cuestionamientos de identidad. Su éxito de taquilla Crazy Rich Asians también tuvo que enfrentarse a cuestiones similares en lo que respecta al elenco de asiáticos y asiáticoestadounidenses en la película. (El actor principal de esa película, Henry Golding, es birracial).Pedí a cinco críticos y reporteros del Times que opinaran sobre las críticas y lo que significa para la representación en las artes. Estos son extractos editados de la conversación. MAIRA GARCIAEl equipo creativo de la película, en el que participan Jon M. Chu, a la izquierda, y Lin-Manuel Miranda, enfrenta acusaciones de colorismo.Macall Polay/Warner Bros.Mi primera ida al cine desde que comenzó la pandemia, como la de muchas personas, fue para ver In the Heights en la gran pantalla. Fue un momento de gozo, después de un año lleno de cosas sin alegría. Era emocionante ver cuerpos morenos cantando y bailando en la ciudad que ha sido mi hogar durante casi una década.Durante mucho tiempo ha habido una falta de representación latina en Hollywood, e In the Heights pretendía ser un avance para rectificar. Sin embargo, la entrevista de León planteó importantes cuestiones sobre el colorismo en el reparto de la película, que se centra en un barrio que tiene una gran población afrolatina. ¿Hizo el equipo creativo lo suficiente en lo que respecta a la representación?CONCEPCIÓN DE LEÓN En mi opinión, no. Desde que salió el tráiler me preocupaba el tema del colorismo en la película. Aparte de Leslie Grace, la actriz dominicanoestadounidense que interpreta a Nina, una estudiante universitaria puertorriqueña que tiene dificultades para encajar en la comunidad de la Universidad de Stanford, ninguno de los papeles principales lo interpreta un afrolatino. Hollywood lleva mucho tiempo valorando y destacando a los latinos de piel clara por encima de los afrolatinos, negándoles a menudo papeles que reflejan su cultura. Es una representación limitada e inexacta de los latinos, que son diversos en cultura y aspecto.Pero lo que hace que estas decisiones de reparto sean especialmente indignantes es que la película está ambientada en Heights, una zona que se conoce como la Pequeña República Dominicana. Al menos el 90 por ciento de los dominicanos somos afrodescendientes, según un reciente estudio de población. Entonces, ¿por qué no aparecemos de forma destacada? En cuanto a lo que el equipo podría haber hecho de forma distinta, parece sencillo. Podrían haber contratado a más actores negros y latinos, no para llenar una cuota de diversidad, sino porque eso habría reflejado la realidad del barrio. O, al menos, podrían haber sido más claros y decir que esta película no pretendía representarlos.SANDRA E. GARCIA Los dominicanos son afrodescendientes, son un pueblo negro y no vi que eso se representara. Los latinos que vi eran del tipo que Hollywood siempre ha favorecido: latinos que se parecen a Jennifer López y Sofía Vergara. Los latinos como yo, en los que no hay ambigüedad sobre su negritud, los que llevan su negritud en la cara, apenas pasan el corte en alguna producción, ya sea de Hollywood o de Univisión. Hay una razón por la que mi madre sabe los nombres de todos los presentadores de noticias de piel oscura en Telemundo y es porque es raro verlos en los reflectores. In the Heights continúa con el gaslighting o manipulación que los negros latinos han soportado desde que tengo memoria. Tenemos una cultura hermosa, tenemos una música es hermosa, pero no somos lo suficientemente dignos para que se nos destaque junto con ellas. Todo lo que creamos, como el salchichón y el mangú que se muestran en la película, o el merengue y la bachata, son dignos de celebración, pero nosotros no.Varias banderas aparecen en la escena del ‘Carnaval del Barrio’, pero no muchos rostros negros.Warner Bros.MAYA PHILLIPS Debo reconocer que no lo noté al principio; mis ojos estaban demasiado encandilados por la felicidad de ver un gran y brillante musical en una pantalla grande. Pero sí empecé a notar la ausencia: por ejemplo, en el número del Carnaval del Barrio (que está muy bien coreografiado, por cierto), hay una parte en la que la cámara se desplaza para mostrar a diferentes grupos de residentes que llevan varias banderas, y me di cuenta de la falta de rostros negros. Y Benny me llamó la atención porque aparentemente era el único personaje de piel oscura ¡en todo el barrio! A veces, mi madre y yo vemos una película o una obra de teatro, o simplemente estamos en algún lugar del mundo y jugamos a un juego llamado “Encuentra a los negros”, como “¿Dónde está Waldo?”, pero menos divertido, ja. Parece que muchas artes y reuniones públicas hacen como si los negros no existieran.Me pasa lo mismo, Maya. Soy una gran aficionada a los musicales y a la música latina, así que creo esto en parte nubla la realidad de este barrio: que es predominantemente afrolatino y que la falta de rostros negros se ha convertido en una omisión más flagrante.ISABELIA HERRERA He visto justificaciones que dicen que In the Heights no es un documental y no pretende representar al verdadero barrio dominicano de Washington Heights sino que se trata de un barrio latino de fantasía. Claro que entendemos que se trata de un musical, una historia con elementos surrealistas y fantásticos. Incluso si aceptamos la opinión de que una fantasía no tiene que ser representativa, ese argumento supone que de todos modos, los latinos negros no pertenecen a estos mundos imaginarios. Al mismo tiempo, el director, los actores y los productores han utilizado el lenguaje de la celebración comunitaria y la historia cultural del barrio real de Washington Heights para comercializar la película. Esto parece una contradicción, y una que para mí resulta muy reveladora.¿Qué significa el colorismo en la comunidad latina y cuáles son las formas en que se manifiesta? ¿Qué perdemos al no tener un amplio espectro de representación en las artes?DE LEÓN El colorismo en la comunidad latina se manifiesta de forma parecida a como sucede en la comunidad negra estadounidense: cuanto más clara es tu piel, más hermosa y deseable se te percibe. Mi complexión era siempre un tema de conversación cuando era niña, y a mis primas que son más oscuras que yo les iba peor, a menudo ridiculizadas con palabras denigrantes como “mona”, que están normalizadas pero tienen un trasfondo racista.En República Dominicana y en otros lugares existe el concepto de “mejorar la raza” al salir con blancos, para blanquear el linaje. Es una noción que tiene sus raíces en la colonización, cuando España implantó un sistema de castas en la isla de La Española, que la República Dominicana comparte con Haití, donde se situaba a las personas de ascendencia europea o mestiza más arriba en la escala social y se les permitía más oportunidades de progreso. Aunque este sistema ya no existe, todavía hay rastros de él en la forma en que se ve y se trata a los latinos negros. Son más pobres y tienen menos acceso a educación de calidad, vivienda o salud que los latinos de piel clara. Al borrarlos en la pantalla, estamos perpetuando este daño y fomentando la narrativa de que solo lo blanco es adecuado.En mi familia (soy mexicanoestadounidense), soy de piel más oscura que algunos de mis parientes y eso me ganó el apodo de “Prieta”. Tengo hermanos y primos que son más blancos que yo, incluso que pasan por blancos. Aunque algunos podrían considerar que palabras como prieta son términos cariñosos, también pueden ser muy perjudiciales, ya que transmiten una diferencia: no eres la norma, es decir, blanco.GARCIA Como alguien que ha existido como latina de piel negra toda la vida, el colorismo está en todas partes en la Latinidad, un término académico que dice que los latinos comparten hilos comunes de identidad. Las cicatrices de la colonización y de un dictador que se ponía polvos en la piel para parecer más claro siguen siendo visibles en la cultura dominicana. Para la gente como yo, esas cicatrices todavía se viven de forma muy visceral. Creo que los dominicanos están despertando a una negritud que se les ha enseñado a evitar, y creo que ahora más que nunca hay más espacio para los dominicanos de piel oscura. Dicho esto, el statu quo es que los latinos de piel más clara son mejores y mucha gente no está dispuesta a renunciar a eso, por la razón que sea.A.O. SCOTT Ese parece ser el caso de gran parte del cine y la televisión latinoamericanos. Es raro ver protagonistas negros o indígenas en las películas del Caribe o de Brasil, y más raro aún encontrar directores de esos orígenes.PHILLIPS Creo que todo esto refleja la visión terriblemente estrecha que tiene nuestra sociedad de la representación racial, que una persona latina debe tener un aspecto muy específico y una persona negra debe tener un aspecto muy específico, y que esas identidades no pueden cruzarse. Es como si existiera miedo a que tener ese amplio espectro de representación pueda ser confuso.Leslie Grace, a la derecha, es la única afrolatina entre los protagonistas de “In the Heights”, entre los que se encuentra Gregory Diaz IV como un ‘dreamer’.Warner Bros.La película no contaba con grandes estrellas en los papeles principales porque el equipo creativo quería arriesgarse con nuevos talentos. Parece que podría haber sido la oportunidad perfecta para evitar los problemas de colorismo. Chu dijo que seleccionaron a los mejores actores para los papeles. ¿Qué le pareció su respuesta? More