civil rights

Where a life becomes a legacy: IBTC honors MLK with ‘Mountaintop’

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By John Lyle Belden

I have been to the Lorraine Motel.

The site near downtown Memphis, Tenn., where the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated, is now a monument and museum. Its façade was restored so that it is frozen in time to April 1968. This exterior, accessible to the public even when the museum is closed, has plaques and media to help visitors understand what happened there.

However, to see inside King’s room, you only need travel as far as Mass. Ave. in downtown Indy, for the Indianapolis Black Theater Company production of “The Mountaintop,” written by Katori Hall, directed by company artistic director Tijideen Rowley.

The audio as you take your seats at the main stage of the District Theatre is of King delivering the speech that gives the play its name. He relates the struggle for civil rights as a long historic journey, and famously likens himself to Moses of the Bible who was allowed to view the Promised Land from atop a mountain, knowing he would not go there himself.

Given what would happen the very next day, this rings prophetic, but King knew that the constant death threats, dissatisfaction within his own movement, and even harassment by the FBI would somehow catch up to him. In supporting a strike by Black sanitation workers and speaking out about Vietnam, as well as years of the work for which we honor him now, he was likely one of the most hated men in America. Perhaps, also, he thought he wouldn’t live naturally long enough to see real progress (could he have made it to 2008?).

Daniel A. Martin takes on King like a bespoke suit, shining with intelligence and charisma, but also just a man, troubles on his mind, who could really use a cigarette. He connects with home by the bedside telephone – after checking it for a bug – to hear the voices of his wife and daughter in Atlanta. Soon after, he is visited by a maid, delivering room service.

The beautiful young woman, Camae, is both deferential to the famous “Preacher King” and a bit sassy, which he can’t help liking. Her speech has an almost comical brokenness, peppered with occasional profanity and words that seem out of place. She is so much more than she seems.

Opening night featured a wonderful performance by Dija Renuka as Camae. Due to an unexpected health issue, her role is now played by prepared understudy Clarissa Michelle. (Standing by to understudy King is Bryan Ball.)

Hall, a Memphis native, gave the play rich details for Rowley and the cast to work with, humanizing a man now considered a saint, even by those who would have opposed him in his era. Martin delivers a genuine performance of a man confronting stages of grief for his life and, he fears, his legacy. Through him we see the toll the work has taken and the need for it to continue.

Serious as it all gets, there are moments of welcome humor, including absurd bits that work in context. Just pull out a stage-fake Pall Mall, and relax. Tomorrow, the baton of his race is in your hand.

Performances of “The Mountaintop” are Thursday through Sunday, Sept. 25-28, at the District, 627 Massachusetts Ave., Indianapolis. (Ball plays King on Thursday.) Get info and tickets at indydistricttheatre.org.

‘Four Women’ face horrors with song

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By John Lyle Belden

Oh, “To be Young, Gifted, and Black” – then to have it all be suddenly taken away.

This was the fate of four girls at the 16th Street Baptist Church in Birmingham, Alabama, when it was bombed by members of the KKK on Sept. 15, 1963. Among the thousands who were compelled by this incident to take action for Civil Rights was the outspoken Black singer and songwriter Nina Simone.

In “Nina Simone: Four Women,” the play by Christina Ham on the mainstage of the Indiana Repertory Theatre, we see the entertainer at her piano on Sept. 16, struggling to channel her rage into a new song – “an anthem,” she insists – to focus the feelings of all who hear it.

In dark imaginings presented in the exceptional stage design by Regina Garcia, Simone (Akili Mi Mali) is just a few steps from the ruined church floor, with charred pews askew and scattered remnants of toys, before the church’s lone surviving stained-glass window. And she is not there alone. Sarah (Jamecia Bennett), a middle-aged woman in housekeeper’s dress and apron, examines the scene. She recognizes Simone and encourages her to sing a hymn rather than an angry tune with objectionable words. Nicely-dressed Sephronia (Ariel Williams) also appears, ratcheting up the tension even more as she, being lighter-skinned, faces disdain from darker-hued folks – though, as she points out, all the Whites outside see is “another Negro.” Eventually, we meet the fourth woman, Sweet Thing (Precious Omigie), a sex worker holding proud to what dignity she can muster.

Director Austene Van said this encounter with the scene and these three archetypes of Black women of the era help Simone to process this change in her life and career, from singer of popular tunes to an activist with her own emotionally charged songs. With some humor, music including many hits from Simone’s repertoire, and frank discussions, we see the struggle from those who had to live it – and arguably still do.

The “fifth” woman is music director Morgan E. Stevenson who accompanies on Simone’s piano as needed.

Ni Mali beautifully brings Simone to life, in looks, bearing and voice. The others get to sing as well; Bennett’s bold rendition of “His Eye is On the Sparrow” had inspired reactions from the opening night audience.

As Simone herself might point out, this is about more than her. The girls who died that Sunday are ever in the characters’ minds – unlike the newspapers of the day, they say the victims’ names. The song that emerges from this event, “Mississippi Goddam,” widens the focus from a single city to the entire American South and includes the murder of Medgar Evers that year.

“Nina Simone: Four Women” runs through March 2 at the IRT, 140 W. Washington St. in the heart of downtown Indianapolis. Get info and tickets at irtlive.com.

ALT, Phoenix present meaningful production

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By John Lyle Belden

For us Americans, we are asked from the time we first learn about it in school what we think about the United States Constitution, but, honestly, what do we know about it? What does it do, has it done – has it not done?

American Lives Theatre and Stage Door Productions present “What the Constitution Means to Me” by Heidi Schreck on the main stage of the Phoenix Theatre Cultural Centre in downtown Indianapolis. This play is a unique blend of (mostly) one-woman storytelling and memoir, compelling lecture, and on-stage debate with elements of improv and audience response.

In its award-winning Off-Broadway run, Schreck recalled how she earned her college tuition as a teen winning prizes at speaking contests on the Constitution held by the American Legion. The narrative comes to more recent times with personal stories and taking notice of how the Supreme Court has upheld – or possibly failed – America’s foundational document.

In the current local staging, highly talented stage veterans Claire Wilcher portrays Schreck while Ben Tebbe is on hand as Heidi’s friend Danny Wolohan, who assists by portraying a Legionnaire contest moderator whom Schreck recalls fondly. In the second act, Jada Radford, a local performer who also participates in Speech and Debate as a student at Marian University, comes out as herself to take a side against Schreck/Wilcher on a constitutional issue chosen at random. Audience members are free to submit topics, as well as questions for the performers, which will be used at the next performance.

Wilcher’s manner is so natural and earnest that any line between her and Schreck vanishes. We readily absorb her recollections, as well as facts and history that may not be common knowledge but affect us all. We delve deeply into the vital Fourteenth Amendment, as well as the cryptic Ninth Amendment, and their role in recent decisions, as well as cases before the courts today.

While there is a fair amount of humor, disturbing truths cannot be avoided. Director K.T. Peterson admits in a program note that “this play is upsetting,” but sees that as a good thing. Difficult topics include domestic abuse, abortion, and civil rights, especially for women. Wilcher-as-Schreck doesn’t get angry, yet pulls no punches in her delivery, a from-the-heart pleading from both women in unison.

Tebbe is supportive and good natured, playing it aptly more as an ally than a co-star. Radford is simultaneously brash and charming. She nimbly blends her stage and forensic skills, even winning the debate in the performance we attended.

So, if anyone tells you something is not in the Constitution, tell them, “Penumbra.”

Want to know why? Find out “What the Constitution Means to Me” in performances through Sept. 22 at the Phoenix, 705 N. Illinois St. Audience members also each get their own copies of the Constitution to take home. Get tickets at phoenixtheatre.org and information at americanlivestheatre.org.

‘Blackademics’ serves challenging menu

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By John Lyle Belden

Inspired by television shows and networks devoted to the culinary arts, many of us would love the opportunity for a unique dining experience. It could be said to be careful what you ask for, but for a pair of “Blackademics,” one doesn’t start to understand the nature of what they have gotten into until after that first tiny bite.

Ann (AshLee Baskin), professor at the local liberal arts University, is grateful for a nearly-impossible reservation to this unique café. She wants to celebrate her gaining tenure with her friend Rachelle (Chandra Lynch) who also teaches African-American literature, but at the State college. Curiously, the room is bare. Their server, Georgia (Caroline Sanchez), tells them they are the only guests, and the courses will come soon – but first, a single morsel from a “medley of seeds.”

It takes some time for even a single table to arrive. As the evening progresses, it turns out that Ann and Rachelle must compete for literally everything – a chair, a small plate of food, a utensil – in contests that relate to their careers, academic savvy, and cultural awareness.

“Blackademics,” a dark comedy by Idris Goodwin presented by Fonseca Theatre Company, directed by Ansley Valentine, draws us into an absurdist work – echoes of Samuel Beckett with a dash of “Get Out,” flavored with today’s civil rights struggles. While great progress was made over the last century, many frustrating details remain unresolved, including the disparity in numbers, especially of Black Women, in policy positions of universities.

Questions, such as if Ann can actually affect change from her tenured position, or how Rachelle deals with being “not ethnic enough” for the current academic trends, get a gourmet reduction to a mélange of metaphor. Will defending Black History Month literally get you a place at the table? The competition doesn’t end until the meal is over; who will be worthy of the main course?

Sanchez is delightful with just a touch of sinister as our witty waitress, keeping the audience and our two ladies guessing until her nature finally gets the best of her. Baskin and Lynch ably embody the stress of doing what they see as both labor and calling. Even their assumed sisterhood is challenged – are they only friends because they’re Black?

The Twilight-Zonish goings-on help make the big issues easier to chew, and after this intense 80-minute play, you can discuss the topics later, maybe over dinner.

Make your reservation for “Blackademics,” Thursdays and Fridays at 7 p.m., 4 p.m. Saturdays, and 2 p.m. Sundays, through March 31 at 2508 W. Michigan St., Indianapolis. Info and tickets at FonsecaTheatre.org.

‘Crew’ remembers forgotten Civil Rights heroes

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By John Lyle Belden

“Cadillac Crews are not fictional. They really happened. But we don’t know the many names of the women who, on them, helped to integrate the American south.” – Playwright Tori Sampson in an interview on www.newpaltz.edu.

Black women in the 1960s faced a battle on two fronts. They endured the struggle for racial equality alongside Black men, who at times placed them in a strictly background role, mostly unheard and largely unknown.

In the play, “Cadillac Crew,” by Tori Sampson, presented by Mud Creek Players, this becomes a hard lesson for Rachel Christopher (Shakisha Mahogany), leader in a Virginia civil rights activists’ office. She has arranged for movement pioneer Rosa Parks to speak at an upcoming conference. However, her day starts with friction from office assistant Abby (Shanae Denise), who feels she should have more duties, considering her pre-law degree. Rachel notes that even with her Masters, all she has done is administrative work, but that should soon change. Dee (Gabrielle Patterson) arrives already under stress, dealing with her daughter starting class at a mostly-White school under a new Integration plan. Finally, there is Sarah (Rachel Kelso), whose Whiteness raises quiet suspicion with Abby and Dee, despite her eagerness to help and Rachel’s willingness to vouch for her.

Two pieces of bad news arrive – the male leadership’s decision to demote Parks’ appearance from a keynote address to perhaps a luncheon, and a report out of Florida of a burned-out Cadillac with the bodies of two women voting rights workers. No names are given, but Abby knew them.

Striving to rise above not only the pervasive Jim Crow racism but also what we now call “erasure,” Rachel volunteers her office as the next Cadillac Crew. Such teams are similar to the Freedom Riders of volunteer college students who traveled into the Deep South to organize and register voters (sometimes with tragic results), but in this case more low-key, driving the back roads to speak to churches and women’s groups to encourage the causes of integration, voting rights and other freedoms.

Seeing the lack of writing on the wall, Rachel is determined not to be forgotten, insisting that she and the others keep diaries of their ramblings through the South. Her lofty speeches seem to be well received, and things are going well, provided the crew can make it over the dusty road to Jackson, Mississippi…

Directed by Dani Lopez-Roque, this play is a powerful reminder of the many mostly-unknown people who worked for the cause of freedom, and how the pressures of that struggle led to a lot of tension and disagreement within the ranks. This isn’t four girls on a road trip; it is four women constantly questioning if any of this is worth it. All four actors are as dedicated as the women they portray, embracing the complexity that even within a settled goal like equality, there are many-sided arguments of how to get there.

The play ends with a final scene in 2024, which seems a little odd, but helps put the preceding events in perspective as a young podcaster strives to un-erase what has been hidden.

The Mud Creek Barn helps set the scene before the play with signage as you enter regarding the strictures of Jim Crow. The program is in the style of newspaper from 1963. And be sure you line up at the “right” window when getting your ticket or popcorn.

Performances of “Cadillac Crew” are Feb. 16-18 and 23-24 at 9740 E. 86th St., Indianapolis. For tickets and info, go to mudcreekplayers.org.

With heart and hymns, a voting-rights hero tells her story

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By John Lyle Belden

Fannie Lou Hamer was a fairly remarkable woman before she became known to the world outside her Mississippi town. Literate despite a sparse education, the daughter of sharecroppers managed to find a good husband and work as bookkeeper for the plantation. But in 1962, at age 44, she discovered she had the right to vote. And everything changed.

Indiana Repertory Theatre presents “Fannie: The music and life of Fannie Lou Hamer,” by Cheryl L. West. On the IRT mainstage, we meet Hamer (Maiesha McQueen) late in her Civil Rights career, doing what she loves best – baking her “sock-it-to-me” cake and singing the Church music that sustained her throughout her life, through mental and physical abuse, doors slammed in her face, every small triumph and vicious defeat in the struggle to bring the vote to all Americans, especially those with dark skin like her.

She gives us her life story in gentle maternal tones, while never shying away from the dark and tragic moments. Happy to commune with us through the fourth wall, she encourages the audience to sing along with tunes like “This Little Light of Mine” and “I Love Everybody,” and even demands a “Can I get an ‘Amen!’?” Thus, she brings us 21st-century sojourners along on the dusty roads where she braved bigotry and beatings with incredible determination, even taking her message to the 1964 Democratic National Convention in Texas.

Broadway veteran McQueen brings Fannie to life wonderfully, bringing to light a lesser-known civil rights icon, making us feel glad to finally discover her and understand she is one of many workers in the struggle who deserve to be remembered and honored. Though this is presented like a one-woman show, the importance of music to her life is emphasized by the fine upstage backing band of Morgan E. Stevenson, Spencer Bean, and Dorian Phelps.

Henry D. Godinez directs, assisted by Ashlee “Psywrn Simone” Baskin (also understudy for Fannie). The narrative is enhanced by projections designed by Mike Tutaj.

Share in the joys and tears of the person who popularized the phrase, “I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired.” Performances of “Fannie” run through Feb. 4 at the IRT, 140 W. Washington St., downtown Indianapolis. Get info and tickets at irtlive.com.

OnyxFest: Babe

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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

Delores Thornton brings us the story of her mother’s life and arduous journey from Georgia to Indiana in search of a better life and freedom from the racial oppression of the South.

We first meet Babe (Leondra Radford) at the forming of a new mental health support group in the year 2000. The therapist, Dr. Davis (Chris Sears), has assembled clients who all have different issues, but have personalities that complement each other.

They include a young alcoholic wrestling with moving on with her life (Kim McMurray); a former drug addict who still gambles (Gene Howard); and Babe, of course, who has been experiencing migraines and nightmares. Thornton plays an older woman who suffers from anxiety, especially when driving.

On her own with Dr. Davis, Babe participates in several sessions of hypnosis – despite the warnings from the voices of her friends and family, neatly channeled by the spirit of her old friend Octavia (Dr. Cheryl Talley-Black, who also provides some beautiful spiritual songs that cover the scene changes).

As the show progresses – with memories from 1989, through the decades, back as far as 1922 – we are given glimpses of the traumas Babe experienced and insight into how her brain coped with this knowledge for all of these years.

Director Trease Sears does a great job of keeping each character true to their story as well as having the unenviable task of directing the author of the work itself. The play is a searing indictment of the mental toll Jim Crow and the Civil Rights struggle took on so many. Thornton hopes that this will also encourage a more open attitude among Black communities to seek help when needed.

See why everyone went bananas for Baker

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By John Lyle Belden

Like, I suspect, many others, most of what I knew of Josephine Baker was that she was an early 20th-century performer who chose continent-wide fame in France over being just “a Negro” in America. And, knowing she was being adored rather than belittled, she indulged in and claimed power over stereotype with her infamous “Sauvage” dance wearing little more than a string of bananas.

But any cursory look at her biography shows that Baker is so very much more than the first African-American international superstar. “Josephine: A Musical Cabaret,” presented by Dynamite Lunchbox Productions and starring co-creator Tymisha Harris, at The District Theatre in downtown Indianapolis, presents her life story in a most entertaining fashion, letting Baker herself tell it between timeless songs of her era.

Harris brings the diva to life in non-stop flirtatious mode – remembering, relating, dishing, confessing. One moment she dances in pasties, the next she feigns modesty to a gentleman she addresses (including a few she sees in the audience). Yet even at her most exotic, she maintains that tasteful line one had to toe in that time when even the Folies Bergère had its limits. Thus, consider this a pushing-it PG-13 or light R rating for teens and older.

That flirting was with both men and women, as recent biographers have revealed and our Baker freely admits, making her an LGBTQ icon, as well as a war hero and Civil Rights activist – both of these are also addressed.

Also co-created by Michael Marinaccio and Tod Kimbro, this production runs a full two acts rather than the Fringe Festival-length performance seen elsewhere on the tour. Remaining dates are tonight (as I post this) and Sunday at the District Theatre, 627 Massachusetts Ave., Indianapolis. Get tickets at indydistricttheatre.org and info on the show and tour at josephinetheplay.com.

Fonseca: Story of family stuck in ‘Mud’

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By John Lyle Belden

The magic of live theatre is such that more than persons become characters in the drama. A house, for instance, can have a role, or even the concepts of time and culture.

This house on a street in the Mud Row area of West Chester, Penn., has a lot to say, through the people who occupy it. While the means to buy it was less than honorable, it sits firmly in the hands of a pair of sisters at a time when African Americans owning anything was an accomplishment. Each woman takes a different approach to improving their chances of future prosperity – Frances by joining the Civil Rights protests, and Elsie Mae by marrying her unborn child’s father, a member of the “Talented Tenth” – a designation for those meant to uplift fellow Blacks, but here, ironically, a form of elitism.

The daughters of Elsie’s girl, Regine and Toshi, today find themselves with a complex relationship to the old house, as gentrifying developers come around, money in hand, to turn it into a parking lot.

This is life on “Mud Row,” the play by Dominique Morisseau at Fonseca Theatre Company, directed by Josiah McCruiston.

Frances (Lakesha Lorene) and Elsie (Jacquelyn Owens) Jeter are each critical of the other’s intended actions, seeing confronting the police by one, and high society by the other, a fool’s errand — even dangerous. Still, they are family, bound by love and fierce pride. Lorene and Owens also imbue these women with unflagging optimism, foremothers to be honored alongside their ancestors. Their scenes cut in from time to time among modern moments, giving context and fleshing out the “character” of the home.

Regine (Aniqua ShaCole) is no longer a Jeter, having married Devin (Marcus Elliott), and glad to have gotten away from the Mud Row house to live in Philadelphia. However, Grandma Elsie’s Will gave it to her, which she only found out when notified of the cash offer from the developer. Now, the couple has returned, she to resolve difficult memories and he to get an appraisal for a higher price.

Having been abandoned for years, the home is eerily well kept. The reason, at least for the last few months, is a pair of squatters: Toshi (Anila Akua), who abandoned the family years ago for a life of crime and addiction, and her fellow recovering-addict boyfriend Tyriek (Brenton Anderson).

Morisseau’s funny-in-context humor gets quite a few laughs as each couple grouses about “who’s occupying MY house?” as well as the inevitable and mildly violent first encounter.

Akua gives an excellent portrait of a woman struggling with addict-brain, wanting to do good and feel she’s better than the streets, while part of her insists that’s where she belongs. She’s uncomfortable with trust, making her seem even more unreliable. Tyriek, bless his simple soul, has been thug so long he hardly knows any other way to act, though he desperately wants to strive for respectability. Anderson lets us see the flashes of street wisdom and noble eagerness that make him ultimately likable.

ShaCole and Elliott portray Regine as a woman gone bougie, while Devin always had been. Though likely a concept she only heard of in a college history class, she finally managed the family’s Talented Tenth dream, but felt resented by her grandmother for achieving it. Toshi, though, doesn’t remember things the same way.

McCruiston imbues this play with what he calls the spirit of “Sankofa,” a West African word meaning “to retrieve,” in this context to go back to a place and time to recover something important. Fonseca producing director Jordan Flores Schwartz notes she chose this play to begin a 2022 Season of Healing. These characters will need plenty of that.

To further give context to the play, McCruiston set up viewings of “West’s Neighborhood: A Black Woman’s View of the Suburbs” videos by Rachel West, an educator living in the Chicago area. One is shown pre-show, while the second is screened during intermission.  

To paraphrase an unrelated song, will they pave over the past to put up a parking lot? See “Mud Row” through March 20 at 2508 W. Michigan St., Indianapolis; tickets and information at fonsecatheatre.org.

Important ‘Mountaintop’ in the hills of Bloomington

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By Wendy Carson

On April 3, 1968, the night before the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr.’s death by assassination, he gave one of his most famous speeches. Known as, “I have been to the Mountaintop”, it encourages people to wonder what would happen to them if they didn’t act in service to others, rather than what would happen to them if they did. 

He speaks of traveling through history and witnessing numerous times of oppressed peoples overcoming their struggles. He reminds us of what we have already been through and how we can continue to overcome poverty and injustice by working together to support one another. 

However, he also speaks about his near-death experience from a knife attack years earlier and how a mere sneeze could have killed him. He references the constant barrage of death threats that he endures each and every day. He acknowledges that he will not always be there to continue the fight for justice and equality. Yet, he assures us that he knows that what he has begun will continue on after he is gone.

This speech, its message, and King’s life are the inspirations for Katori Hall’s play, “The Mountaintop,” presented by Cardinal Stage in Bloomington. 

King (Michael Aaron Pogue) retires to his room at the Lorraine Motel in Memphis to try and get some rest while working on his next speech. He sends a friend to get him some cigarettes to help with this mission. After calling down to the front desk for room service, his coffee is delivered by Camae (AshLee “PsyWrn Simone” Baskin), a beautiful maid on her first night of her new job. She also brings with her the next day’s paper. With the storm raging outside and his reluctance to be alone, the two engage in a spirited discussion of King’s life, the Civil Rights struggle, and the future. 

Hall pulls no punches in portraying King as an honorable but flawed man. Pogue proudly shows us King’s many great achievements while also regretfully acknowledging his indiscretions and moral failings. He also shows us flashes of future inevitability in his panicked reactions to the claps of thunder which, sounding to him like gunshots, rattle King so.

Baskin shows Camae as a mater-of-fact woman who has no time or desire to mince words and always clearly speaks her mind. She manages to keep the character’s expletive-laden rants light yet never denies the meaning and power behind them. She also skillfully keeps Camae sympathetic once we learn the truth of who it is she is actually working for. 

Director Ansley Valentine brings us a story that reminds us not just of the loss of a great leader for change but also that the struggle is not a sprint, but a relay race, and we are all responsible for our part in it. So, take up the baton, and see this show. 

Performances run through March 20 at the Waldron Arts Center, 122 S. Walnut St., Bloomington. Get information and tickets (“pay what you will” pricing) at cardinalstage.org.