by Mike Hoban
The Black Clown – Adapted from Langston Hughes poem by Davóne Tines and Michael Schachter; Music by Michael Schachter; Music Direction by Jaret Landon; Choreography by Chanel DaSilva; Directed by Zack Winokur; Scenic & Costume Design by Carlos Soto; Lighting Design by John Torres; Sound Design by Kai Harada. Presented by the American Repertory Theater at the Loeb Mainstage, 64 Brattle St., Cambridge through September 23
Reading Langston Hughes’ poem The Black Clown after experiencing the world premiere of this stunning new work of the same title, it’s pretty amazing to see how literal the interpretation of the poem is – especially considering the complexity of the music, dance and movement in the piece. The original poem is broken into two sections, “The Mood”, which essentially reads like bare-boned stage directions, and “The Poem”, which provides all of the lyrics for the entire production – despite being just 17 stanzas long. The Black Clown, said Hughes, is “a dramatic monologue to be spoken by a pure-blooded Negro in the white suit and hat of a clown, to the music of a piano or an orchestra.”
Davóne Tines, who stars in the title role, and Michael Schachter, who wrote the score, have adapted Hughes’ iconic work to create something that is so much greater than those basic instructions, with a mind-blowing theatrical experience that never really feels like a musical, even with nearly every word of it set to music. From the single spotlight opening that has Tines delivering the initial lines of the poem (“You laugh, because I’m poor and black and funny”) to the end where he reclaims his true status as a man, The Black Clown is an emotional and musical tour de force.
The music sets early-20th-century jazz and ragtime, African-American spirituals, and opera/art songs to the text in a way that weaves through the multiple layers of the American black experience from slavery into the 1930’s, as evidenced by this set of directions early on from “The Mood”:
Melancholy jazz. Then defiance again followed by loud joy.
A burst of music. Strutting and dancing.
Then sudden sadness again.
And that is precisely what is delivered, as the opening passage is followed by the despondence of “I Am the Fool”, which leads directly into what appears to be the wild depression-era Harlem nightclub scene of “Strike Up the Music” (highlighted by the stellar “strutting and dancing” choreography by Chanel DaSilva) and then back to the sad realities of “Three Hundred Years” and “A Slave Under the Whip”. The dark pall that enshrouds those poignant numbers is chillingly enhanced by having the 12-person ensemble perform in silhouette behind massive screens – a device that scenic designer Carlos Soto (who also did costumes) and lighting designer John Torres use to great effect to convey director Zack Winokur’s vision in various spots in the production.
Those scenes give way to the tragicomic “Freedom,” featuring Abe Lincoln on a sky-scraping set of stilts, handing down the Emancipation Proclamation to the slaves, who soon find out that just being free doesn’t ensure happiness and well-being when you’re “Black in a White World”. That number also reminds us that, although the poem was written in 1931, much of the material is still all too relevant today, as it was hard to not think about the shootings of unarmed black men by police as it was performed. Not all of the songs are wholly original, as Tines and Schachter also sample refrains from “Nobody Knows” and “Sometimes I Feel Like a Motherless Child” – which is easily the highlight of the evening in a night filled with brilliant numbers.
One of the most remarkable aspects of the production was that on opening night, there was not a single applause break until a half-dozen numbers in, so mesmerized was the audience by Tines’ grand Paul Roberson-esque bass-baritone, the incredible all-black ensemble, and the power of the poetry. The first came with “Nobody Knows”, and shortly thereafter “Motherless Child” brought the audience to its feet. It certainly helps that you’re not likely to see a better assemblage of talent onstage in any production in Boston this season (including the superb orchestra) – and the creative team gives them plenty of opportunities to shine.
The production runs 70 minutes, and is not without its slight flaws. Tines at times uses his magnificent voice in a low register for extended periods, which creates a sameness to some of the pieces, especially when coupled with the limited text of the poem. This causes a slight drag in the show in spots – but that’s a very minor quibble. Overall, The Black Clown is an awe-inspiring piece of new work, and along with this summer’s Jagged Little Pill, reasserts the A.R.T. and Diane Paulus standing as meaningful innovators in the American theater. For more information and tickets, go to: https://americanrepertorytheater.org/shows-events/the-black-clown/
