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Isaac Welch

The uncertainty of ‘Doubt: A Parable’ finds life again at Rooftop Productions

By Isaac Welch

This article was originally published in DC Theater Arts here.

Rooftop Productions’ opening night of Doubt: A Parable by John Patrick Shanley showed a humble effort carried through by the heart of the Manassas community, through opening night jitters and competing acoustic accompaniment. As the run of eight shows began at the historic ARTfactory, Shanley’s frequently staged play found life again under the direction of Deb Hansen.

Unfortunately, just outside the ARTfactory that night was a band of lively street performers, whose wattage at times overpowered the play’s own audio system. Despite this interference, the cast maintained its composure as required by their characters, and an equal amount of respect and focus from the audience helped insulate the stage from distraction

In the play’s opening scene, Nathan Mikami introduces the character Father Brendan Flynn to the audience with a sermon; the priest at the center of this work’s point of contention brings into focus the thematic undercurrent that the audience will find themselves adrift in. Mikami’s early performance of Father Flynn sustains the pivotal role and grows into new dimensions as more is told of his activities at the St. Nicholas Church School and his relationship with its students. The play explores all facets of this character as a teacher, a coach, and a figure of high regard, but there are times when Mikami’s performance falters in accentuating the mannerisms and tendencies that convincingly illustrate a priest. Without the familiar pacing and vocal emphasis of sermon delivery, and lacking the embodiment of “holy spirit,” there is room in Mikami’s performance for more reverence to manifest.

Mikami’s confidence shows as the play progresses, allowing his Father Flynn to shine through in moments of defense and confrontation. Throughout the play, Mikami lends his strengths to the character in his dealings away from the congregation as allegations of coercive activity involving Donald Muller, the school’s first Black student, trace back to his name. Fist clenching and face reddening in moments of frustration, and voice dampening in his admissions and appeals, Mikami’s performance leaves the audience to learn about Father Flynn through his humanity more so than his holiness. Forgoing these dynamics in other compartments of his role, the juxtaposition between an impassioned priest, dedicated in his faith and fervent in his practice, and a mortal man burdened by the carnal temptations and sins of his past, becomes less stark.

The play’s second scene introduces Sister Aloysius Beauvier, played by Carolyn Corsano Wong, and Sister James, played by Raeanna Nicole Larson. Together, despite a strained dynamic, the pair strategize and confront Father Flynn for alleged misconduct and predatory behavior. Their argument stands upon unsettled observation and consequence amid uncertainty. Father Flynn parries the assertions as an attack on his character and recalls the structures they should aim at to honor in their institution. Without impartial knowledge of the events that occurred, the audience is left to remain unsure of the truth of the matter.

Larson and Wong’s performative relationship is influenced by the dynamics between teacher and principal, compassionate and conservative, elder and youth. Wong brings a poise and experience to her representation of Sister Aloysius that elevates this community production to a higher professional standard, unrelenting in her accusation against Father Flynn and unafraid of the disdain her methods may provoke. Larson tees up a wide-eyed eagerness in her acting of Sister James that is struck upon during a conversation between her and Sister Aloysius when Wong utters, “Look at you, you’d do anything for a warm look.” Both these actresses bring courage to their performances by allowing the less desirable traits of their characters to rise to the surface for full exploration.

Next to Wong, Tanya Johnson-Herron offers her contribution to the play with a most natural presence in her performance as Mrs. Muller. Though given only a short scene, Johnson-Herron makes effective use of her time on stage, adding crucial perspective as Donald Muller’s mother. With insight into his home life and personhood, dimensions are added to the young student’s situation that both widen the plane of uncertainty in the plot and tell further truths of the time and climate the play is set in. With class and rhythm, Johnson-Herron brings the production a performance that reveals, emotionally and upfront, the tests endured by the Black family amid the cultural restructurings of the 1960s. From here, the play sweeps into its climax as stakes increase and implications worsen. Both Father Flynn and Sister Aloysius threaten grave measures against one another, and conclusions await.

Nearing a stage of bared teeth, the cast seizes the opportunity to explore withheld emotions. Some of the best performances occur when characters abandon parish decorum.

The play is given an impressive set design consisting of a single backdrop of mural artwork depicting the St. Nicholas Church School. Stagehands transform the space between courtyards and offices, with just enough props to communicate each new setting. Nothing is overly decorated, as emphasis is placed not upon each room, but upon the exchanges and conversations that occur within them. With seating on three sides of the stage, the cast navigates multiple dimensions, knowing that their eyes may be met as they stare off out a suggested window or enter the stage through an aisle that also serves as a corridor.

In a play that concludes in ambiguity, the cast did well in their delivery to emphasize caveats and certain points of contention within the script that may sway audience members to believe one narrative over the other. Requiring constant attention and sustained energy, this play progresses at a pace that allows the storyline to accrue tension until its climax. The play’s congruence with the cast’s persistence results in a performance that both honors Shanley’s critically acclaimed work and welcomes the community to partake in its experience.

New musical ‘Sonnets and Soul’ resonates deeply at Howard University

 By Isaac Welch

This article was originally published in DC Theater Arts here.

Throughout the world, the folklore of Black Americans serves as a foundation of the popular culture we know and enjoy today, bringing context and inspiration to the creative minds that now decorate our history. Folklore as a historical record is pivotal in this aspect. As the world around us continues to change in ways unforeseen by our generation’s forerunners, the necessity becomes ever-present to inscribe new stories and bring light to the narratives that had once lived befogged by ignorance and neglect.

Taking on this responsibility are director and choreographer Dell Howlett and composer Michael McElroy with their new musical Sonnets and Soul. Conceived during the COVID-19 quarantine in 2020, the work addresses the lack of stories akin to their experiences as queer Black men in theater and adjacent arts. Moving away from the Shakespearean motifs that once inspired their collaboration’s title, Howlett and McElroy embark on a journey of healing, begging the question “What if we could go back?”

Sonnets and Soul follows the young Seer, a queer boy played by Kenneth Carter Jr. coming of age in the late 1970s. Son to his mother, Faith (Gabrielle N. Rice), and his father, the Reverend (Jaden Madget), the college-bound high-schooler is set on a path of self-discovery as he finds his heart in conflict between the merits of his future decisions, the fervor compelling him in his sexuality, and the responsibilities ingrained in him as his father’s successor. The jovial yet expectant Reverend has high hopes that his son will follow in his footsteps toward his alma mater and his ministry, leaving Seer guarded against his true desires. As the story unfolds, Seer is emboldened by the support of his mother, who helps both the men in her family come to terms with the fact that Seer’s fate rests in his own hands. Upheld by his acquaintances Romeo (Ethan Hart) and Juliette (Atara F. Romero-Wilson), Seer embraces the challenge of honoring his heart, and through his matriculation begins to explore possibilities for his life outside the realm of his father’s wishes.

This story is told in this musical through the perspective of Seer in the present as a Narrator (Kendrick Jackson) reads on the day of his future wedding pages from an old journal that bore witness to Seer’s past struggle and provenance in his youth. Recounting these storied days, the Narrator — floating above his former self and through scenes as a third party — interjects testimony that brings the significance of each moment to the audience. Through this dichotomy, the audience is given a deeper insight into an already complex character. As Carter acts out Jackson’s reminiscent storytelling, the pair offer a performance devoid of fear. In scenes where Carter skillfully emits Seer’s hesitance and naivety, Jackson reaffirms with grace the wisdom gained. In moments of Carter’s courage, Jackson returns to applaud where he stood ground or laugh at the hardheaded ways he has since matured from. Though the plot covers ground quickly, the audience is anchored by narratives encased in 18 musical numbers.

The play opens with the “Narrator’s Song” then a chronological jump to the first scene, in which the audience is transported from the soft calls of a diary’s opening pages to the pews of a Sunday service. At once, as the second number, “God’s Favor,” reigns, the inimitable reverence that imbues the Black church is comfortably at home on a Saturday afternoon in Howard University’s Ira Aldridge Theatre. This devoted gospel sets the bar to heights that the cast of students from the Chadwick Boseman College of Fine Arts dutifully maintain. The next stand-out number comes during a school talent show when Seer, Romeo, and Juliette perform “Hot Chocolate Love,” an exuberant ode to the era of Funk. With pinpointed dance moves and provocative songwriting, the trio of cronies brings to the present the free-spirited and fully embodied aura of the 1970s Black teenager.  Accentuated by Brandee Matthies’ costuming, this character-defining act earns Hart and Romero-Wilson their praises and gives Seer his trusted allies for the rest of the musical.

Forgoing parental approval, this number blossoms as a seedling spelling out the conflict that is to unfold between Seer and his father. The loving yet stubborn and domineering Rev is a familiar portrayal of Black fatherhood, illustrating the generational discrepancies often endured by those with stories similar to Seer’s. Jaden Madget’s courageous embodiment of this character brings the necessary thematic tension that is created with Rev’s role in the musical. He allows his individual talents to shine during the number “Don’t Mourn for Me,” opening a window to Rev’s fervent heart and encouraging the healing of broken bonds.

Written by McElroy — who has performed in Sunday in the Park with George and Next to Normal and composed for Disaster! The Musical and Street Corner Symphony — these numbers beg the same level of greatness as the Broadway stages he’s set foot upon. Heartfelt and pouring from the souls of these young and extremely talented collegiate actors, the vocal performances throughout the show reach a level of such professionalism that could cause viewers to forget that these numbers were rehearsed by undergraduates rushing between office hours and exams. Performances like these catapult the production over the heights its creators have established, and as the show proceeds, it becomes clear that these young actors are headed for similar destinations.

Supplementing these performances, McElroy and Howlett’s use of the Crew as both backing voices and as live utility demonstrates equal parts innovation and creativity. Woven into Howlett and associate director Lashawnda Iya Ifanike Batts’ choreography are graceful maneuvers that double as stage manipulations, with a cohort of Crew members slipping seamlessly between roles from stagehands to choir members, prop passers to a student body, with delicacy and little waste in their movements. There come moments in McElroy’s numbers where these Crew members take on opportunities to let their individual talents shine, and as they are seized, impressions are made.

The graphic projections by Dylan Uremovich and spotlightings by lighting designer Alberto Segarra give the stage dimensionality and purvey a deeper element to its storytelling. Evoked by call and response, viewers are stimulated and invited to partake in the personal experience of McElroy’s writing. Each new setting is further realized by dialogue that will reign familiar to those who learned life’s tribulations from the same environments.

Consisting of a single stationary structure, Nadir Bey’s minimalist set design allows space for the audience to imagine each new setting. For a play whose subjects are deeply personal, allowing this freedom to imagine serves as an advantage, allowing audience members to fill in the openings in the setting descriptions with memories of their own high school hallways, dorm rooms, and cousins’ backyards. Familiar scenes of the family cookout, the school talent show, or the college bar string this show together in its joys with an endeared nostalgia, while at other points harkening in levity to systems and beliefs of eras behind us. Together, these junctures paint a realistic picture of the world Seer must navigate to unearth the truths that will define him. These details, liberties taken by Howlett and McElroy, are what allow Sonnets and Soul to resonate so deeply with the audience who, throughout this performance, were alive and active in their viewership.

The stories of marginalized peoples are characterized by their vitality, as they serve as a means of preservation of cultures constantly defending themselves from erasure. The utilization of culturally stapled dialogue, call and response, and allusion to eras past all work in favor to tell the story of Seer, whose trial and transformation is a narrative accessible to all walks. Brought to exist by the efforts of undergraduates, this level of excellence belongs in its own category. Sown by visions and expressions of Howlett and McElroy, this cast of HBCU students led by Howard University’s prolific production company brings the very life to their performance that these stories need. In this aptly titled musical, every ounce of passion is felt.