Black Lives Matter

CCP: A bitterly arousing ‘American’ story

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By John Lyle Belden

One of the cruelest linguistic tricks of the last 10 years is how the meaning of “woke” has been thoroughly obscured from its use by African Americans notably at least since the start of Black Lives Matter in 2013 and increased to a crescendo with the racial events of 2020.

This loose definition (coming from Black communities rather that formal institutions) is mainly the awareness – gained from living in an environment, or by exposure to that environment – of the hard truths of social, judicial, and political conflict around ethnicity and especially race, particularly the Black experience taking into account over four centuries of American culture. Being or becoming “woke” should not be trivial, as it addresses issues and events that continue to alter and destroy people’s lives. (Any expansion of meaning – to Latinx or LGBTQ, for instance – should be to broaden the tent, not tear it down.)

It is in this brutally honest reckoning that one should consider the characters portrayed in “American Son,” the 2018 drama by Miami attorney and acclaimed playwright Christopher Demos-Brown, presented by Carmel Community Players through Aug. 17, directed by Bradley Allan Lowe.

Though the word is never used in the play, how “woke” are each of the adults we see?

The mother, Kendra (Zarah Shejule), a Black college professor, would certainly think she is. She senses the worst when contacted at 3 a.m. by Miami-Dade Police, only told “there has been an incident” with her 18-year-old son Jamal’s car. Waiting for nearly an hour in the MDPD waiting room where the play is set – while told nearly nothing – doesn’t help.

Young white Officer Larkin (Joshua Matasovsky) comes off as the opposite, though at first trying clumsily to bridge the gap. At first he plays the know-nothing rookie, stalling for time until the AM Public Affairs Officer arrives. When Jamal’s father, Scott (Earl Campbell), a white FBI agent, enters, Larkin sees the badge and divulges far more information – to him, mistakenly believing he is the officer they are waiting on.

In Kendra and Scott’s conversation, ranging from scathing to bittersweet due to the circumstances of their separation, we learn that Jamal was raised with all the best conditions their parents’ social and monetary privileges could arrange, including an exclusive prep school and an upcoming place at West Point military academy. However, in recent weeks he has questioned his own sense of identity, leading to his angrily venturing out alone the evening before in the nearly-new car given to him by his father.

Social media enters the fray in a bystander video Scott receives of that vehicle with three young black men in a police stop.

Frustrated tempers reach their fever pitch during the arrival of PAO Lt. Stokes (Brian G. Ball). Bringing calm at this point is nearly impossible – Stokes being Black leads to a certain slur that you know will eventually be said – but information is divulged, piece by piece, none of it getting any better.

The factors of this incident get ever more complex – how a Black child is raised; a provocative bumper sticker; privilege and its lack; someone (not Jamal) with an outstanding warrant; marijuana (still illegal in this time and place); involvement of the Gang Intelligence Unit (just referred to casually as “GIU” by the officers); when Black wears “Blue;” the disturbing sounds on the video.

Solid, deeply felt performances by all four cast members never let us off the hook. Lowe provides not only directorial guidance but also designs both sound and an uncomfortably accurate set. This being a single 90-minute act aids the necessary tension.

Also, in this drama the road to hell is paved not with intentions but assumptions made by everyone involved, both within this room and in “the incident” that brought us here. These portrayals will (and should) inspire a lot of conversations after the show and for some time onward. The story is fiction, however the background of the playwright, as well as what we’ve all seen in the news, indicate it is based on the true experiences of many who have had long sleepless nights.

As we awaken each day to a nation where, in practice, skin tone becomes “probable cause” for law enforcement, “American Son” retains its importance as a mirror to our attitudes and public policies. Performances are Thursday through Sunday, Aug. 14-17, at The Switch Theatre, Ji-Eun Lee Music Academy, 10029 E. 126th St., Fishers. Get info and tickets at carmelplayers.org.

A hard look at America as its victims depart

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By John Lyle Belden

“Ain’t No Mo’” is likely the most funny yet challenging piece of theatre you will see this year.

Written by Jordan E. Cooper, who led performances on Broadway, and now presented by Indianapolis Black Theater Company at the District Theatre, directed by Jamaal McCray, this satire feels like what would happen if the TV show “In Living Color” came back today with total freedom to say what its African American writers really think.

The central player is Peaches (Daren J. Fleming) a drag queen airline agent for the last flight out in a project to relocate all Blacks in the United States back to Africa – the diaspora in reverse, departing from gate 1619.

However, first we get a rousing “funeral” scene which leans into the now-tattered myth that somehow all racism in America stopped with the 2008 election of Barack Obama. This introduces the company, who take on various roles and are referred to in the program as Passengers: Chandra, Clarissa Todd, Cara Wilson, Avery Elise, and Reno Moore, who in this scene plays the exuberant minister declaring that the word/concept of “‘N!&&a’ is our slave!” After what turns out to be an inoculation of spirited repetition of the word in this bit, you’ll hear it a lot throughout the show.     

This is an intense tour-de-force for all involved, with each actor taking their moments to shine.

Chandra keeps the pathos in a darkly comic scene at a not-really-hidden abortion clinic as with the only options for a Black child being prison or early violent death, terminating pregnancy is a mercy – even if one must wait in a line of millions to get it. Still, if only her murdered husband (Moore) saw it that way…

Todd delivers as one of the women (“B!tch, we all hoes!”) in a recording of “Real Baby Mamas of the Southside.” While they all delight in their gold-digger lifestyle, she takes up more of the attention, especially when she is called out for “living my truth” in a scene that simultaneously skewers reality TV, Black stereotype, cultural appropriation, and playing the victim.

In the most hilarious scene (and most reminiscent of an “ILC” skit), Wilson is an unstoppable delight as the essence of “Black” returning literally from her chains to an absurdly bougie family who insist they replaced their skin tone with “green.”

Elise gives a vicious tug to our heartstrings as a hardened prisoner about to be released so she can take that flight to Africa. Something she had with her when incarcerated is missing.

Between scenes, and at final boarding, we get moments with Peaches with her no-nonsense attitude and compassion that does get tested at times.

The production is supplemented with complementing and contrasting visuals provided by CèAira Waymon, as well as audio breaks of recorded lectures noting how Black culture has been turned in against itself to the delight of White supremacists. 

If something about this show does not bother you, you aren’t paying attention. And yet, you really should see this, at least to help understand if not ease the viral contagion of racial politics that permeates the current atmosphere. (As I write this, there is another news bulletin about attacks on DEI programs.)

“Ain’t No Mo’” has performances through July 6 at the District Theatre, 627 Massachusetts Ave., Indianapolis. Get tickets at indydistricttheatre.org.

IBTC presents: Kurkendaal gets ‘Real’

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By Wendy Carson

This is one of four scheduled shows in the Black Solos Fest presented by Indianapolis Black Theatre Company, a program of The District Theatre. Performance information and tickets at indydistricttheatre.org.

This weekend, Les Kurkendaal brings an expanded version of his much-lauded work, “The Real Black Swann: Confessions of America’s First Drag Queen.” Since I was not able to see the previous stagings, I was excited to get a chance to see this more fleshed-out production and it did not disappoint.

Ever the engaging storyteller, Kurkendaal brings us an endearing tale to delight and educate us on our past and potential future. Told through reminiscences of a fever-dream he experienced during a biopsy on his leg (benign, he reassures us), he gives us the history of William Dorsey Swann, the first documented black drag queen and political activist. He also forces himself to revisit traumatic instances of prejudice he experienced in his life. As his coping method has been to shut himself up in a protective “Glinda Bubble,” Swann’s spirit makes him realize that he can no longer continue to do this.

Kurkendaal has been reworking and refining this show for the past few years, touring it internationally, and I feel that he has truly found his voice in it. The message – that nothing in the world is going to change until we all wake up and join together to support one another, and do whatever we can to fight those who try to oppress and oppose our brethren – is not new, but it’s vital to remember in our current political climate.

Our review of his performance of “Real Black Swann” during the 2022 IndyFringe festival is here. The narrative is largely unchanged, and it is an excellent look at the life of a man born into slavery, yet entering the turn of the 20th century on his own terms – and in a dress. It also reminds us that the gay underground in American cities goes a lot further back than most folks suspect.

As we post this, there is still a performance at 3 p.m. Sunday, Jan. 26, on the main stage of The District Theatre, 627 Mass. Ave., Indianapolis.

Statement of Values

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By John Lyle Belden and Wendy Carson

Being entertainment writers, it should matter very little where we, John and Wendy, stand on any issue beyond the edges of the stage. Still, the dramatic arts are culture, easy ammunition for a “culture war.” So, we feel it appropriate to state openly what subtle, unavoidable bias could influence our work. In addition, we’ll note our feelings on issues affecting people we work with and around.

Several months ago, one of our reviews inspired someone to call us “woke” – an odd term for an insult or reprimand, its meaning warped to be practically useless for civil discussion. We believe that the arts, including drama, comedy, musicals, and dance, are meant to awaken the senses and bring awareness – of beauty, absurdity, injustice, whatever.

Creators, directors, and performers bring their points of view. From ancient Greeks, to Shakespeare, to today’s new works, they all “say” something. Otherwise, what’s the point? It would be absurd for us to ignore these themes in our writing. Our approach avoids critiques that only tear artists’ work down; we strive to inform readers what the production is (without explicit spoilers) while praising its notable aspects.

With recent and current events, our concerns extend beyond the stage. Regardless of a show’s content, many performers, crew and staff live with issues of race, ethnicity, LGBTQ+, or personal liberty – parts of their lives that people in legislative or court chambers discuss with disturbing regularity. We are not shy in our support of the “theatre family,” especially as many find there a closer bond than their own kin.

In matters of race and ethnicity, we strive to grow beyond our “whiteness,” to listen and take on the know-better/be-better mindset. A diversity of voices makes our theatre scene that much richer, and we encourage them as much as we can.

Given the wide participation of LGBTQ+ in the creative arts, we can’t fathom being homophobic in this space. The stage has long given shelter to those who don’t feel comfortable away from it.

Trans expression is as old as theatre itself. However, we understand that for many it is not a costume, it is their lives. We are concerned by slurs and slander passing as news and political stance. Walk in our shoes and meet people as wonderful and complex as any others, just as human and needing to live their own lives.

We know it is too easy to say, “I’m an ally,” but for the sake of our friends, relatives, and society in general, we strive to live with an attitude of love and support.

Monument comic drama addresses heavy topics

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By John Lyle Belden

After many delays, Monument Theatre Company finally brings “Elephant,” by Lewis Morrow, to the stage.

The workplace comedy tackles serious topics as a diverse team of employees anticipate a visit from the new CEO. They work in an unspecified occupation that involves customer service and measurable performance, both of which are important numbers to continued employment and advancement.

King of both metrics is Marcus (Kass Dowell), a proud Black man who feels a little stung by being passed over for promotion to the team supervisor. Mayra (Yolanda Valdivia), a Latina who likes to give opinions but not make waves, says she understands his complaint but that Clarissa, the white woman who got the job, was more involved with teammates. Rae (Rayanna Bibbs), a Black woman, doesn’t seem too perturbed unless it’s said there’s no racial tension involved. White guy Paulie (Brant Hughes) is late as usual, cracking wise to cover any discomfort.

Clarissa (Becky Larson) sweeps in, chipper as ever, and soon talks about the team’s presentation for the CEO, which she has composed. This is, in reference to the play’s title, the “Elephant in the room” that must be addressed. It turns out a different animal’s representation is involved, and the entire team explodes in their reaction – especially Marcus, who has to leave the room to control his rage.

Directed by Dowell, this play hits on many topics of unacknowledged privilege and racial offense, as well as sexism and toxic workplace secrets. As it turns out, the room has a whole herd of pachyderms to unpack.  

Verbal barbs are slung among all the members of the group, reminiscent of ensemble squabbles like “…Virginia Woolf,” with each giving as good as they get. It’s an exhilarating exercise for the actors, I’d guess, and fascinating to watch with this talented team. There are many intriguing points made and debated – worthy of thought long after the curtain call – and the play also includes two strategically placed personal flashbacks to give insight into stands the characters take.

Thomas Burak makes an appearance as a police officer, bringing a climax that’s far too relevant to events of recent years.

“Elephant” has three more performances, Friday through Sunday, Nov. 17-19, on the Indy Eleven stage at the IndyFringe Theatre, 719 E. St. Clair St., Indianapolis. Get tickets at indyfringe.org. Get info at fb.com/MonumentTheatre.

OnyxFest: The Heart of a Man

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OnyxFest is Indy’s first and only theater festival dedicated to the stories of Black playwrights. These one-act celebrations of Black life and culture are presented by IndyFringe and the Africana Repertory Theatre of IUPUI. After an initial weekend at the IndyFringe Theatre, upcoming performances are Friday through Sunday, Nov. 10-12 at historic Crispus Attucks High School, in the Auditorium at 1140 Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Street, Indianapolis. For information and tickets, visit OnyxFest.com.

By Wendy Carson

It’s said that women are complicated; however, men are just as complex if not more so. Andre Orie tackles this concept in her play, “The Heart of a Man,” a taste of which we are privy to at this year’s OnyxFest.

Six spectacular actors, Joshua Bruton, KJ Dullen, Jay Fuqua, Trent K. Hawthorne-Richards, Montez Lafayette, and Tijideen Rowley, each inhabit a different piece of a man’s psyche. They show the love, hope, scars, ego, and longing inherent in everyone. While there may be some slight exaggeration of some aspects, you will easily recognize the truth in each one.

Director Rasheda Randle does a spectacular job of keeping each monologue vibrant and poignant without any part truly overshadowing another. While some may rankle at a script highlighting the inner feelings of men written and directed by women, be assured that only one outside of the gender can really reflect on all of the flaws and strengths inherent within.

This taste of the script, with, as Randle put it, aspects of “Love, Lust, War, and Redemption,” is an hour well spent. The full show, with 17 actors and a much wider spectrum of feeling, has plans to stage a full production next year. Keep an eye on the OnyxFest and IndyFringe Theater websites and social media for news.

Fonseca: Play’s college gives bold lesson

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By John Lyle Belden

Founding father Thomas Jefferson’s proudest achievement was the 1819 founding of the University of Virginia, an institution of higher learning open to (if Wikipedia can be believed) “students from all social strata, based solely on ability.” It admitted its first woman in the 1890s, and the first Black student – after a lawsuit – in 1950. Of course, it’s widely known now that Jefferson was an Enlightenment thinker who opposed the slave trade, yet owned hundreds of people of color himself, including Sally Hemmings, who – with little choice in the matter – was his mistress with whom he fathered a few children (who essentially got nothing from his estate).

In “tj loves sally 4 ever” by James Ijames, presented by Fonseca Theatre Company, directed by Josiah McCruiston, we step to the 200-year-old walls of Commonwealth of Virginia University (next stop over in the theatre multiverse from UVA, not to be confused with Virginia Commonwealth, a totally different college). It was founded by Founding Fathers and, until recently, honored them with statues that have been removed. On the stage set by Kristopher D. Steege, the monuments literally leave their shadow on the school. There is an appropriately diverse student body, with a Black Greek scene and hip-hop at the Homecoming events, but there are tensions. So many tensions.

Our guide (the fourth wall is very thin) and central character is Sally (Chandra Lynch). You can guess at the last name – but this is “now,” not back then, if it matters. She is furthering her studies as a research assistant to dean Thomas Jefferson (Eric Bryant) – not “that” one from ages ago, just a descendant. To make this digestible in a 90-minute (no intermission) comic drama, we have the rest of the students represented by these souls: Harold (Atiyyah Radford), a student activist who is always right, in principle anyway; and Annette and Pam (Shandrea Funnye and Avery Elise), two Sisters of Beta Beta Epsilon who smile through gritted teeth as they give tours of campus buildings with names of past slaveholder and anti-integration families by day, and in the evenings Stomp the Yard and speak their minds. As scenes and discussions require some elaboration for the audience, Annete and Pam quietly slip in to offer “Footnotes.”

All this happens during a memorable Homecoming week where different views of history are on inevitable collision course – including a certain white man’s feelings for a young black woman in his employ.

In McCruiston’s hands, this production is a cautionary love note to academia, a reminder of what “getting woke” meant originally (the play premiered in early 2020): to awaken to past injustices, acknowledge them and move forward with respect for all, without attempting to gaslight those who know too well the painful past that it wasn’t “that bad.” A hoop skirt might look good on a Black body, but it hearkens to a time when that flesh was property. Issues of both race and sex get a hard look in this play.

Lynch seems to make Ijames’ words her own, giving depth of both feeling and understanding to the often odd goings-on. Radford goes from angry-young-man to shuck-and-jive comic with entertaining alacrity, but without yielding a gram of dignity (even when relieving himself on the wall). Funnye and Elise reminded me of cast members of HBO’s “A Black Lady Sketch Show” with sharp delivery of simultaneously comic and enlightening moments. As for Bryant, he holds his own as the guy who just assumes he understands race, but we see far more of his lily-whiteness than anyone needs to.

Funny and thought provoking – like practically every play at Fonseca, but it maintains the high standard – “tj loves sally 4 ever” runs through August 6 at 2508 W. Michigan St., Indianapolis. Get info and tickets at fonsecatheatre.org.

‘Naptown’ awakens

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By John Lyle Belden

The Naptown African American Theatre Collective made an impressive debut with its opening one-night production of Austin Dean Ashford’s “Black Book,” directed by Dexter Singleton, on May 13.

NAATC is Indianapolis’s first Black Equity theatre company. A 501c3 nonprofit organization, it is dedicated to diverse employment and speaking to the Black experience in all its forms.

We hear from many such voices in “Black Book,” written and performed solo by Ashford, a many-times national champion of Forensics (the art of speech and debate) who expanded to theatre while pursuing his masters degree. (He is presently earning a PhD at Texas Tech.) The central character is based somewhat on himself, a Forensics expert spending a summer as debate coach for a high school in a mostly-Black inner-city neighborhood. He tells his own story, how he elevated himself from a rough childhood and young adulthood mainly through speech and debate. We also get many glimpses of his coach and mentor, based on famed educator Tommie Lindsey. 

We then meet his students, who naturally want to be anywhere but in class, but need summer school credit to graduate. There are four, but there should have been five. Just days earlier, one was shot by a gun-wielding teacher. One of our students caught the incident on his phone and the viral video only managed to get the teacher fired, not prosecuted. Another was a close friend, and the trauma of witnessing the death exacerbated his stuttering. 

Prior to the first class, Ashford’s character asked that the students watch the 2007 Denzel Washington film, “The Great Debaters,” about the life of Melvin B. Tolson, whom the school is named after. In turn, the kids call him out for trying to be some sort of outsider teacher-savior from a popular movie. “This ain’t ‘Dead Poets Society’!”

As he proves to his charges, and us in the audience, this is a more genuine story of how oratory arts can lift up young men and bring about changes individually, and hopefully beyond. He assures them that this isn’t his bid for sainthood, and speech and debate won’t eliminate the thousand little cuts of racism the youths will endure through their lives, but will give them the tools to assert their dignity and heal.

It also opens the spectrum of what it means to be successful: “You can be a champion, and never touch a ball.”

This drama, with plenty of amusing bits and portrayals, does follow the genre storyline to a degree as the coach mostly wins over the kids, and we end with a triumphant exhibition. However, it feels natural, not contrived, and results in the kind of local small victory that such characters can build on. And the way to that “happy” ending is, of course, a bumpy road. One irony that the teacher comes to grasp, and should stab at the hearts of adults watching, is that the one who would have been the best student in this class lies in his grave. We have a long way to go for true victory.

Ashford’s style is captured energy molded in numerous ways, aided by contorted body movements apropos to each character. Being first a master of speech and persuasion infuses his natural acting with commanding power. We are briefed before the performance that the audience should react freely and respond to any question tossed through the thin fourth wall. This we did with almost a feeling of obligation, giving the show the uplifting air of a traditional African-American church service.

During his instruction, Ashford asks, “What’s your big ‘Why’?” What is the purpose that drives you? We get the answer for his various characters, and a major clue as to the whole endeavor of NAATC. This illuminating look at contemporary culture, how it fails our young men, and a possible way to help remedy the situation, is part of a bold premiere season. 

Next, Naptown embraces Motown with “Detroit ‘67,” by Dominique Morriseau, opening Aug. 25. In spring the company swings to August Wilson’s “Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom,” scheduled to open March 8, 2024. Then, on May 3, NAATC asks us to look into “The Light,” by Loy A. Webb. All performances are at the Phoenix Theatre Cultural Center, 705 N. Illinois St.

The Collective is led by the hard work of LaKesha Lorene, with Ms. Latrice Young and board president Camike Jones, editor of the Indianapolis Recorder, along with Mariah Ivey of the Madame Walker Legacy Center, Flanner House executive director Brandon Cosby, Ron Rice, and AshLee Baskin.

Please visit naatcinc.org to learn more.

OnyxFest: Police State

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This play is part of OnyxFest 2022, a production of Africana Repertory Theatre of IUPUI (ARTI) and IndyFringe, “Indy’s First and Only Theater Festival Dedicated to the Stories of Black Playwrights.” Initial performances were the weekend of Nov. 3-6 at the Basile Theatre in the IndyFringe building. The second weekend of performances are Thursday through Saturday, Nov. 10-12, at the IUPUI Campus Center Theater, 420 University Boulevard, Indianapolis. Recordings of performances will be available at ButlerArtsCenter.org. For more information, see OnyxFest.com.

By Wendy Carson

The saying, “An eye for and eye and a tooth for a tooth will lead to a world of the blind and toothless,” kept running through my head while watching “Police State,” written and directed by Rain Wilson. This play asks one of the most difficult questions of our current climate: What will it take to get people, especially police, to stop threatening and killing Black men out of fear of their skin color?

There is no easy answer. The scenario Wilson presents shows direct revenge is certainly not the solution, but what is?

The plot revolves around the death of a young man, *Amadi, shot in the back several times by a police officer while trying to walk home. B.J. (Atiyya Radford) tries to get his friend Mo (Deont’a Stark) to attend a justice rally he is organizing. Mo says the protest won’t solve anything and will probably lead to more violence at the hands of the police.

The victim’s father Abu (D’Anthony Massey) and mother Gloria (Shakisha Michelle) argue about how they should proceed in order to recompence their loss. Gloria knows that nothing will bring her son back, so in her eyes justice will never be gained. Abu feels that killing the officer responsible will show everyone that changes to the system need to be made, even declaring it a form of community “self defense.” His white brother-in-law Mark (Bryan Gallet) tries to be supportive but is no help at all, saying all the wrong (yet familiar sounding) things.

 I don’t want to spoil the ending but here’s what I can say: Much heated and important discussion occurs; another man dies; and no solution presents itself. 

Wilson’s story is tough to watch, as it evaluates much of the current ideology regarding this situation and clearly shows that there are no easy answers. However, it does offer a jumping off point in which to start a dialogue to try to find some beginning steps towards a solution.

–

*”Amadi” (primarily meaning “free man”) is fictional, but reminiscent of numerous victims of police violence. A quick web search by this name brought up Amadou Diallo, shot more than 40 times by New York police in 1999 when the unarmed man reached for his wallet. Also fresh in local memory is the killing by police of Dreasjon Reed in Indianapolis in 2020. Black lives matter.

IndyFringe: The Real Black Swan

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This is part of IndyFringe 2022, Aug. 18-Sept. 4 (individual performance times vary) in downtown Indianapolis. Details and tickets at IndyFringe.org.

By John Lyle Belden

Popular Fringe storyteller Les Kurkendaal-Barrett returns to bring us “The Real Black Swan: Confessions of America’s First Black Drag Queen.” In the process, he gets in a few confessions of his own.

For most of his life, Les had a Pink Bubble. It’s like the one Glinda the Good Witch rides in on in “The Wizard of Oz.” Only he can see it, but it protects him.

More recently, Les had a lump in his thigh. It turned out to be a tumor, but neither it, nor the growing Black Lives Matter movement outside his doors concerned him, as the Pink Bubble remained intact.

As he prepared for surgery to remove and examine the lump, Les learned of an article about William Dorsey Swann, who was born a slave in the 1800s and went on to become a Black drag queen (reportedly the first) as well as the first LGBTQ activist on record. This being good material for his next show, Les let it into the bubble. Then he checked in to the hospital.

Under anesthesia, Les drifted in a haze, surrounded by the bubble’s pink glow. Then he saw someone walking towards him – this person was tall, Black, and in a 19th-century dress. In a gruff voice, Swann declared, “You need to start feeling things!”

POP!

We’re not in Oz anymore; this dream takes a more “Ebenezer Scrooge” turn, as Les – and we – examine Swann’s life, and the moments where Les could have used The Queen’s strength. His talent for entertaining us with his introspective stories is blended with a fascinating biography. We get an insight into the history of “gay life” (in both senses of the word) in old Washington, D.C. As one would expect, Swann saw his share of trouble, but being taught how to write while in jail led to his petitioning President Grover Cleveland for a pardon – securing his place in history, regardless of the outcome.

This exercise in self-reflection – we learn why “Kurkendaal” is spelled that way – coupled with seeing worlds outside the bubble, make for yet another great performance in Les’s exceptional repertoire.

Pop on over to the District Theatre to see him 9 p.m. Thursday, Aug. 25, and 5:15 p.m. Sunday, Aug. 28.