Indianapolis

‘Infernal’: one Hell of a journey

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By John Lyle Belden

In “Infernal” by Charlotte Markle, presented by the IU Jacobs School of Music, Theatre & Drama, Dante Alighieri’s famous allegory (“Inferno” of the Divine Comedy) gets a treatment he would appreciate, told through the style of Commedia dell’arte.

The 14th-century Italian poet Dante (Plezzance Lawrence), guided by the spirit of ancient Roman poet Virgil (Ava Fefferman), descends through the Underworld with its nine Circles that he made famous. He has come in pursuit of a woman (of course), Beatrice (Eliza Petrova), the divine one that he feels was his destined true love, even though she died.

Done in the trappings of cheap carnival with Medieval clowns gives this an appropriate otherworldly feel, malevolent without being overtly scary – the horror is more in what the damned have brought onto themselves, the tone of mockery lessening the empathy we may feel of their fate. Each Circle is announced with a simple sign. The imps are comical without joy, making the scenes entertaining but never light.

Fefferman’s Virgil looks like a statue brought to life, spry and full of old wisdom that isn’t accountable to Jesus Christ, having lived before him. Lawrence presents Dante in a more contemporary (to our century) mode. The stubborn modern man, he seems more interested in finding the woman – and some bread to eat – than learning the profound lessons before him.

The devilish imps and shades of the damned are portrayed by Bia Bammann, Rachel Dawson, Talon Hawkins, Charlotte Hottle, Sophia Savarese, and Luke Halpin (swing). The semi-mimed antics are relatable to the animated Minions (understanding that today’s yellow guys are derived from the Commedia characters). Most impressive in presentation is the Seventh Circle “forest” of human trees, cursed for Violence Against Self.

Another poignant moment is when Dante encounters Brunetto (Hawkins), an old friend and mentor. He doesn’t feel the man’s damnation is just, but Virgil reminds him that his own judgement of others’ lives delivered the sentence. Dante slowly comes to realize this epic is his own poem – Hell, as he sees it.

In “Infernal,” the clowning delivers the soft touch necessary to deliver the hard truths of life and the consequences beyond it, as well as an examination of the mysteries beyond us. It also delivers a refreshed example of the old saying: When you are going through hell – keep going.

Directed by Samwell Rose, in partial fulfillment of his thesis, with stage design by Spencer Donovan, costumes by Katie Cowan Sickmeier, lighting by Kairon Bullock, sound design by Ben Handel and stage managed by Elliot Straka-Kitch with Daniella Bengis, initial performances were held at the Fonseca Theatre in Indianapolis.

The show continues Tuesday through Saturday, Nov. 10-14, at The Fine Arts Auditorium, 1201 E. 7th Street (at Indiana University), Bloomington. Visit theatre.indiana.edu for details.

New look at life on a familiar street

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By John Lyle Belden

Meridian (from Merriam-Webster) a great circle on the surface of the earth passing through the poles; a representation of such a circle or half circle numbered for longitude

Meridian (in Indianapolis) the central north-south street marking “00” address for the city; it helps, with major east-west streets, to make an easy grid for getting around.

It appears that award-winning New York playwright Lucy Thurber has incorporated both concepts into the new play, “The Meridian Cafe,” commissioned by American Lives Theatre and performing its world premiere at the Phoenix Theatre Cultural Centre. With a sense for human connection that transcends East Coast or Hoosier culture, she gives us a night in the lives of people in a central familiar location, marking a place along their lives’ journey.

Director (and ALT artistic director) Chris Saunders agreed when I told him the setting feels like Indy’s South Meridian Street. It’s a working-class neighborhood with a small all-night diner (memories of Peppy Grill were expressed afterward). James (Ian Cruz) runs the café with the sort of Serenity Prayer wisdom that comes from being 10 years sober. His cook, Nicky (Joshua Short), has ambitions of becoming a professional chef. A frequent customer, so to speak, is Candace (Lynne Perkins), a local unhoused woman who is mentally frayed and largely unafraid. The coffee has endless refills.

A young woman, Sara (Morgan Morton), enters visibly upset. There are hints of a man, her husband who now wants a divorce, arriving as well. But the next person coming in the door is Luke (Matt Kraft), a young man who asks to speak with Nicky.

The two men grew up as friends in this neighborhood, but Luke’s substance abuse estranged them and landed him in prison. Now out and professing a year of sobriety, Luke asks for a job. After sizing him up briefly, James puts him to work.

Finally, Billy (Allen Sledge), Sara’s husband, arrives. While trying to talk to her he sees Luke and suddenly remembers meeting him. Confused, Luke retreats to the kitchen.

The situation gets more complicated as we learn that one thing Sara and Billy have in common (likely a catalyst for their struggling marriage) is that they both were fighting same-sex attractions in the Christian community of their small home town. She’s still struggling, while he – a professional theatre artist – feels he no longer can.

Through conversations, some held during smoke breaks outside, and an incident when Sara’s evangelical impulses upset Candace, we see various tensions rise and break. They won’t “sing Kumbaya,” but Billy does favor us with a Broadway number.

This being a fascinating character study taking place over a single night, we get a good impression of each of these personalities, though everyone is largely a cypher, as would be the case to us as strangers observing from our corner of the diner.  Cruz makes James the captain of this ship, leading with calm resolve and stern when it’s called for. His relationship with Candace suggests a history and empathy with her life struggles.

In Perkins’ crafting of the character, Candace would be worthy of a play of her own (which we would love to see). She reflects aspects we too often see on this city’s streets, but without caricature or eliciting pity. There are plenty of hearty laughs in this show, but none at her expense.

Kraft employes his full comedy-to-drama range here. Luke’s apparent sincerity and lack of duplicity now collide with awareness of an addict’s easy lies and the fact he had been literally blackout drunk a year earlier. Given this single window to assess him, he is both likable and unreliable.

Sara is one mixed-up character, and fortunately Morton is brilliant at handling such roles. She has a lot to work through, and we see part of that process here. Billy is on a different point on a similar character arc, forced to reckon with a couple of assumptions about what’s best him and his wife, as well as the factors that brought him to this moment. All this Sledge ably manages, and sings beautifully as well.

Short takes on Nicky’s “young man from the ‘hood makes good” character with earnest good humor, especially in his concern for Luke tempered by the sting of past betrayal. Still, compared to the others, this role feels thin.

As Wendy told me when we discussed this play afterward, “this left me wanting more,” is both praise and critique. Perhaps a few more aspects of character in some roles would help, and the fairly short run time can take on additional moments without feeling padded. On the other hand, what more do we get to know of the strangers in a spellbinding conversation overheard in the next restaurant booth?

Regardless, I could see Thurber taking a production of this to success Off-Broadway (frankly, given her CV, this could be a possibility). Thus, we who saw it at the Phoenix can share the brag of seeing it first.

Nicely evocative set design with cleverly transparent outer walls is by Nick Kilgore. Tristen Durham is assistant director, and Lucy Yahr is stage manager.

An excellent snapshot of Midwest life that looks kindly into its shadows, visit “The Meridian Cafe” through Nov. 8 at 705 N. Illinois St. (a block from Meridian) in downtown Indianapolis. Get info and tickets at phoenixtheatre.org or americanlivestheatre.org.

P.S. It’s interesting to me that one of the great offbeat literary minds of the 20th and 21st Century are each named “Thurber,” but I see no indication that Lucy is related to James (writer of numerous works, including “Walter Mitty”). If anyone is aware of a link, let us know.

P.P.S. Yes, I know The Peppy (which we miss!) was in Fountain Square and on 10th Street; I didn’t want to make a misleading comparison to any actual spot on Meridian.

Black Light shines light on Indy history, culture, again

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By John Lyle Belden

Here’s a homework project we can all learn from.

Black Light Training & Development, a program of The District Theatre, presents “The Griot,” a new dramatic work in progress by Celeste Williams, directed by Ronni Watts with Kelly Kel. For the participants, this is an opportunity to develop skills as writers, actors and directors; for the audience, this is also a window into Indianapolis Black history, with a focus on The Indianapolis Recorder.

Founded in the 1890s, The Recorder has been a vital part of what was then and through the 20th century referred to as the “Negro press,” newspapers that served communities of color across the United States, bringing to light the people, stories, and issues mostly ignored by the mainstream (read: white) media. As one line in the play states, to know what was really going on, “this newspaper, and the grapevine, was it!”

To get misbehaving high school students Rosa (Kenyla Bell) and Malcolm (Tyrell) to take history seriously, their teacher gives them a week to make a presentation about the Recorder – something they barely know or care about.

Malcolm remembers it’s something his grandmother “Moms” (Kea Biven-Williams) reads all the time. Noting his interest, she tells how it covered the career of the great Oscar Robinson and his history-making high school title. While her breaking into the Crispus Attucks High “Crazy Song” is a fun audience sing-along, it overwhelms the boy with its hokey-pokey old-fashioned style and he retires to his bed. Meanwhile, in her home and bed, Rosa nods off while Googling the history of The Recorder.  

This is where the spirit world intervenes. Jeli (Destiny Basnight), the essence of The Griot (a traditional African storyteller and history-keeper) brings together the dreamscapes of both youths to meet her and the spirit of George Pheldon Stewart (Terrance Marquis), co-founder of the Recorder.  D’Andrea Brown arrives as “N. Diana Avenue” to enlighten the kids on local history and “Cora S. Pondent” to relate the Recorder’s role in it. Dom Moon appears as the mistress of “Monster Meetings” that brought notable African Americans to speak at the Senate Ave. YMCA, as well as a soldier who wrote to Black papers during World War II to propose the Victory sign become a “Double V” for victory both in the War and on the homefront for civil rights.

Malcolm and Rosa are shaken from their apathy by discovering the rich history in their own city, learning of success stories, like that of Madam C.J. Walker; events like the visit by Martin Luther King Jr., five years before his “Dream” speech; and the horrors of lynchings across Indiana, murdering “young people like us.” In the process, Rosa confronts questions about her own future, while Malcolm feels he must deal with his own troubled past. Appearing at ease on the stage, Bell and Tyrell show their own talent and potential.

The adults acquit themselves well, too. Basnight’s delivery balances charm and culture to stay above caricature. Biven-Williams is endearing as the grandmother. And Marquis entertainingly brings to life the rather dashing photos of Mr. Stewart, presenting a classy no-nonsense newspaperman.

As in past Black Light productions, we get deeper insight into Indiana’s past as well as an opportunity for future cultural icons.

Overall, the 90-minute play gives a good first public showing with great potential. See what we mean and encourage its development by seeing it 7 p.m. tonight (as this posts) or 4 p.m. Sunday, Aug. 30, in the District Blackbox, 627 Massachusetts Ave., Indianapolis. For tickets and information, see indydistricttheatre.org.

Find Black Light Training & Development on Facebook. The Indianapolis Recorder is available in newsprint, online, and provides a weekly email newsletter.

The District calls on ‘Genêt’

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By John Lyle Belden

Indianapolis native Janet Flanner was a unique personality, one of the most famous Hoosiers you likely have not heard of. This was likely in part because her writing focused on those around her as she faithfully avoided writing in the first person.

The spotlight gets overdue placement upon this literary icon in the world premiere of “They Call Me Genêt” by D. Paul Thomas, performed by Jen Johansen at The District Theatre. Writing her “Letters from Paris” for the newly established New Yorker magazine from 1925 to 1975, she received her nom de plume from New Yorker editor and co-founder Harold Ross, who mistakenly assumed it was a French variant of “Janet” (the word actually refers to a broom plant with yellow flowers, or a cat-like animal native to Europe and Africa).

We meet Flanner at the end of her time as an ex-pat in Paris, preparing to depart for New York, where she would live with her long-time lover, publisher Natalia Danesi Murray. She packs while struggling to write her final “Letter” for the magazine, and reflects on her various life experiences and the famous (and infamous) people she knew along the way.

Johansen delivers a flawless performance as the woman who would apparently mock the self-indulgent nature of a one-woman show. Aided by an appropriate wig (design by Andrew Elliot), she bears a close resemblance to photos of Flanner, who was fully aware of her plain features, remarking here that she has “the face of an old Pope.” Director Chris Saunders gives us not just a fascinating first-person biography, but also, as he notes, a thoughtful meditation on where the observer fits in among the celebrities she observes.

Among the historical figures she encountered, Flanner wrote about Hitler during his rise to power (a bitter I-told-you-so years later for those who dismissed her prescient profile) and had more pleasant relationships with luminaries including Hemingway, Picasso, and Gertrude Stein. Past notables of art and letters, she remarked, included “the most interesting Paris-ites.”

As for her personal life, Janet is unapologetic while employing her gift of creative language to apply appropriate euphemisms, such as her preference for “the sorority side.” There is a little trepidation at rejoining American society, returning to the post-Vietnam/Watergate country she sees churning towards a sort of “self-betrayal.”

The look and atmosphere are completed with costumes by Guy Clark, set by Josh Morrow, and props sourced by Jan White – including a charming compact typewriter. Rick Northam is stage manager, and Georgeanna Smith Wade is the understudy.

A bit of a wildcat, a shining golden flower, and ever intriguing – get to know Ms. Flanner in “They Call Me Genêt” in performances Thursday through Sunday, July 23-26, at 627 Massachusetts Ave., Indianapolis, presented in partnership with Indy Pride.

There will also be a benefit event, A Parisian Dinner and Garden Party, following the 4 p.m. Saturday performance. For details and tickets to all shows, see indydistricttheatre.org.

Asante shows ‘Glory’ of Attucks team

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By John Lyle Belden

The word “asante” is an expression of gratitude used in much of Africa. Here in central Indiana, we are grateful for Deborah Asante and the Asante Art Institute (expanded from her established art and theatre programs in 2018). This treasured local institution helps guide self-discovery and celebrate the African American experience through creative programs and performances.

With the current climax of high school and college basketball under way downtown, Asante focuses on the program that helped change the game far more than most people realize. The historical drama “A Touch of Glory” by Laura Town, directed by Ms. Asante, tells the story of the Crispus Attucks Tigers, the first all-black team in America to win a public high school state championship, taking the title in 1955 and 1956, a team that featured future hall-of-famer Oscar Robertson. It was also the first state title for an Indianapolis squad. This is well known, yet far from the whole story.

We are guided through this story by the “Angel” spirit of Willie Burnley (played by Joshua Short), whose hoop dreams ended after high school, getting his wings from cancer a few years later. He has not only a story to tell, but also an important role in it. He notes that Robertson was known to get a triple-double – double-digit points, rebounds, and assists – nearly every game.

Willie will tell us about Oscar’s two greatest assists.

At the heart of the story is the Tigers’ coach, Ray Crowe (Reggie McGuire), who worked his way up from school janitor and built a team in a school that didn’t even have a proper gym. His determination, confidence and optimism help to win over reluctant and cautious principal Russell Lane (Ennis Adams Jr), as well as his fiancé/wife of saintly patience Betty (Clarissa Michelle), and the boys who played street ball in “The Dust Bowl” – Burnley, Robertson brothers Bailey (Joshua Bruton) and Oscar (Deontà Stark), future Mr. Basketball Hallie Bryant (Bryce Hawthorne) and future Globetrotter Dill Gardner (A’veon Curry), who played barefoot.

The play also features Matthew Brown as sportswriter Bob Collins, who sees more than good story here; Rick Drumm in supporting roles; and Joe Wagner as a couple of less savory persons.

Most impressive are the Cheerleaders – empressnikia, Shelby Brown, Taylor Todd – fitting naturally as a sort of Greek Chorus as well as aiding the story and its atmosphere.

Short gives Burnley, who mostly rode the bench but didn’t seem to mind, an infectious joyful energy that keeps us engaged. This, and the earnest portrayal of Coach Crowe by McGuire, help elevate the by-the-numbers sports hero story to something that feels important beyond its own time and place. Though we know the end, in looking at the story from an early-50s perspective we feel the tensions, imminent threat, and the deafening silence in place of support from other parts of the city and state.

We get an interesting glimpse into the Robertsons: Bruton’s Bailey is brash and vocal, yet focused while on the court. Stark’s Oscar lets his game do the talking and easily comes across as a future legend. Curry as Gardner gives an interesting perspective on the meaning of success under limited options. Keiston Drake plays another Tiger player, and also provides beautiful vocals during a musical moment.

The choreography by Shawn Cowherd extends beyond the cheer routines as the scenes of basketball action move with easy grace and athletic beauty. Clever and functional set design is by Antonio Burks, with costumes by Latoya Adams. AshLee Burks is assistant director, and Kelli Thomas is stage manager.

The Academy provided support on and behind the stage. Credit where due: Kyler Brown, Lamont Swayze, Kawai Castillo, Adina Sconiers, Ava Floyd, Zeruiah Bailey, and Reygan Rucker, with teaching artists Jasmine Robinson and Reno Moore and performance mentor Kiheem Brown.

“A Touch of Glory” has performances 7:30 p.m. Thursday, Friday and Saturday, as well as 1 p.m. Saturday (April 2-4) at the Athenaeum, 401 E. Michigan St., Indianapolis. For tickets, see athenaeumindy.org. Put on some green and gold if you feel like it, and you might even learn the “Crazy Song.”

‘Lockefield’ showing lots of promise

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By John Lyle Belden

We got an early look at a new play, “Lockefield on the Ave,” presented by Black Light Training and Development on March 28-30, 2025, at The District Theatre. The following paragraphs are my response, posted to the PWJW Facebook page to help get the word around during its one-weekend run. Black Light is doing important artistic work with local creatives in contributing to the story of being Black in America, and especially in Indiana.

-x-

This short play by Robert Webster focuses on the Indiana Avenue scene in Indianapolis in the mid-20th century. Percy Davis (Quinton Hayden) has a little bar on the Avenue. It was started by his father Freeman (Gene Tommy Howard) after a moment of good luck, before his fortunes reversed tragically thanks to his former boss – and Klan member – Jack Sucker (Ray Graham). Jack’s bigotry was inherited from his hooded father and Confederate grandfahter, but his son Tom (Clay Mabbitt) doesn’t see things that way and, as an aspiring journalist, goes so far as to attempt to write for the Black-owned Indianapolis Recorder. In what we will realize is a full circle moment, Tom interviews Percy to get an honest perspective on Indianapolis Avenue and the people there.

We get a lot of information on the characters and especially Indy’s Black history, aided by fellow cast members T. J. O’Neil, Sam Hill, and Tamara Taylor. Much of it feels like a sort of staged documentary, but the true story of the Avenue is something we all need to learn or be reminded of, as it has been largely left out of local history.

With tight direction by Eric Washington, this play is like a rough-cut diamond. There is a lot of potential for Webster and Black Light to polish and form with more drama and perhaps a two-act structure to bring together its elements – including plot points like the Davis pocketwatch, publishing the story, and the Sucker family dynamic – into a priceless gem of theatre. What we have so far is like a healthy first course of soul food, making us hungry for more.

Note that to be authentic, the N-word and opinions that thankfully are not so common now are freely expressed, in their proper context. Take comfort that this show ends with a moment of unity.

A big shout-out to Black Light interim artistic director TJ Rowley for giving me and Wendy a sneak-peek at this precious jewel, with our hope of continued success for the company.

History’s flow through Black communities explored in ‘Riverside’

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By John Lyle Belden

The Indianapolis Shakespeare Company, a/k/a Indy Shakes, understands you don’t have to look across the Atlantic for a compelling timeless story. In fact, their current world premiere, “Riverside” by M.L. Roberts, takes place in part on the very ground where it is being performed.

Executive Artistic Director Ryan Arzberger said Roberts underwent extensive research and numerous interviews with people who have lived in the area for decades in the African-American communities in and around Indianapolis, then created a chronicle of a family whose legacy runs through both Indiana and Black history, a well-informed historical fiction and relatable human epic.

A talented and dedicated ensemble play all the parts, from the eternal River that predates the red, then white and black, people who settled here, up to the cusp of present generations in the 1960s. They are Olamide Asanpaola, Kayla Carter, Terra Chaney, Holiday, Malik James, Akili Ni Mali, Ed Gonzalez Moreno, and Milicent Wright, with Jamaal McCray, Josiah McCruiston, and Clarissa Todd as swings. Rudi Goblen directs.

In 1821, there is a settlement of free African-Americans on the White River, led by church Pastor Simon (Moreno) and Sister Sarah Johnson (Carter), who is knowledgeable of the law and whom in the nearby new city of Indianapolis will uphold it. One day, Jacob (James) happens upon the town; he is technically “free” but his white “Massa” who brought him up from Mississippi to work a new farm near Lafayette has him under an unreasonable contract of servitude. After a dramatic standoff, Jacob gains his physical freedom, but it takes time, and Sarah’s gentle patience, to break the chains in his mind and spirit.

The Johnson family that starts on the River follows it down into the heart of Indianapolis, where we find them on legendary Indiana Avenue in the 1920s. Times seem good, but peace is fragile and short-lived, as are some of the neighborhood residents.

As turbulent times follow, Johnsons move upriver to the growing community of Riverside, home of today’s park (and Taggart Memorial Amphitheatre, where this play is presented). In 1962, there is a popular amusement park there, posted Whites Only. Grudgingly accustomed to the culture of segregation, local Blacks take advantage of the singular “Colored Frolic Day” at the park – except for the Johnson children, who at least attempt a protest.

Peppered with humor, music, spirit, and hope, while never afraid to confront the darkness, “Riverside” presents an endearing portrait of a family, a people, and their well-earned place in this American city we call home. The performers help us not just see but feel how the rivers of water and time have brought us to where we are today.

“Riverside” is presented 8 p.m. Thursday through Saturday, July 25-27, at 2441 N. White River Parkway, Indianapolis. Performances at this beautiful outdoor venue are free, with paid VIP seating available. Either way, reserve a ticket to help with headcount for this not-for-profit organization. For more information, visit IndyShakes.com.

Hear and feel the ‘Voices of the Avenue’

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By John Lyle Belden

From Emancipation in the 1860s to well into the 20th century, Black populations brought together by community and herded by racist policies gathered in neighborhoods across America that managed – despite contrary forces – to flourish, at least for a time. In Indianapolis, that legacy is Indiana Avenue.

That street, and its jazz-infused culture, is celebrated at the District Theatre on Massachusetts Ave. in the world premiere musical, “Voices of the Avenue,” a stunning, inspiring story by new playwright Brandi L. Metzger.

Set at an actual popular Indiana Ave. nightspot, the Sunset Terrace, this is the story of sisters Constance (Jodi Holmes), a writer for the Indianapolis Recorder (still a voice for Black issues today), and Pearl (Komoca Rowley), a singer and regular at the Sunset. On the night of club owner Denver’s (Jay Fuqua) 50th birthday celebration, Connie arrives hoping to persuade Pearl to join her in leaving for New York to seek bigger opportunities. The joint is jumping, thanks in part to performer Burnin’ Bernie (Keiston Drake). Also present is a mysterious white man, calling himself Apollo (Clay Mabbitt), who keeps writing something in his notebook.

This is also a story of a time and a place at a cultural and historical crossroads few on the Avenue saw coming. As Denver reminisces, despite troubles through the 1920s and ‘30s, the Black communities rallied and “Indy’s Harlem” persevered. But it is 1945; soon, thousands of men – mostly white – will be returning from the War and the age of “redevelopment” and suburban boom will begin. This Apollo represents succinctly. An advance scout and embodiment of the coming change, he presents himself as an amateur hypnotist who can freeze the moment to let us in our own era beyond the fourth wall know what forces are at play and the justifications they will use to act.

The brighter side of the Avenue, full of life and brave joy, is personified by the music of the outstanding on-stage ensemble, led by Matt “BigBeatz” Franklin at the keyboard, with jazz pianist Carl Hines, Jef Payne on trumpet, and Byron L.A. Hobbs on drums. Stephen Martin Drain and Nakia B. White tend the bar and provide backup vocals. Club patrons are played by Heather Strain, Teresa Francis and DaJuan Thrasher.

This production is in the able hands of veteran director Nikki Miles, assisted by Angela Leonard. Justin M. Lewis provides cool choreography appropriate to the times, and even gets Mabbitt to cut a rug.

The songs are all original, by Metzger in collaboration with Franklin and the actors who perform them. They perfectly capture and move the plot, and a rousing salute to “The Sunset” is fun to sing along to – which we’re encouraged to do at the end.

Holmes and Rowley give great performances with voices sharp whether in song or snapping at each other as siblings do. We can feel their relational struggles as well as the growing shadow of the bigger story they are in. Fuqua plays Denver as all charm and blind optimism, perhaps not an angel, but a vital part of the Avenue. Drake gives Bernie the driven attitude of the talented up-and-comer not wanting to consider there might not be a place to get to.

The only disappointment is that this intense experience clocks in at just under an hour. Still, a lot of story and history is packed in. It never feels rushed, like great jazz; I just wasn’t ready for it to end. It’s one thing to learn by reading, lecture, or even documentary, about the spirit of Indiana Avenue, but “Voices of the Avenue” gets you to truly feel it.

This work was brought about by Black Light Training and Development, a grantee of the Andrew W. Mellon Foundation. Metzger is a recent graduate of its playwriting course. Find more information at the program’s Facebook page.

Remaining performances of “Voices” are today (as we post this) and tomorrow, Saturday and Sunday, June 1-2, at the District Theatre, 627 Mass. Ave., Indianapolis. Get tickets at indydistrictthteatre.org.

Getting to look a lot like ‘Xmas’

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By John Lyle Belden

I’ll never forget the moment a few years ago during a show when Claire Wilcher shouted, “That just happened!” as she rolled with the comic chaos, ever one of this city’s biggest talents.

As the Phoenix Theatre Cultural Center sought to revive its traditional “Very Phoenix Xmas,” it was entrusted to Wilcher, who directed and wrote the whole show with “& Friends,” which include costars Shawnte P. Gaston, Carlos Medina Maldonado, and Ben Asaykwee, who co-wrote songs with her. Putting aside lame wordplay (for a moment) this is simply, “A Very Phoenix Xmas Returns: The Return of the Very Phoenix Xmas.”

Yeah, it’s happening.

A quick warning: In the edgy spirit of the Phoenix Theatre, there are a fair number of F-bombs dropped among the fake snowflakes, though as usual nothing blasphemous for this holy season. This fun is for high schoolers and older.

The overall theme is Christmas season in central Indiana, with some comic shots taken at traditions including the IRT “Christmas Carol,” the Symphony’s “Yuletide Celebration,” and the Carmel Christkindlmarkt. To start the second half of the show, we even get a look at actual Yelp reviews for local attractions.

Between scenes, we get “greetings” from various Hoosiers throughout history, from Col. Eli Lilly to Madam C.J. Walker to Kurt Vonnegut. (And by the way, Claire, Wendy and I have always called that freeway “the Babyface.”)

All four have their moments to shine, including Gaston as an infamous billionaire, Maldonado and his “box dance,” and Asaykwee as a disaffected member of whatever today’s generation is called. Order the theme cocktail before the show or at intermission, and you, too, can be part of the performance!

Once again, the Phoenix balances engaging in tradition with thumbing its nose at it. This ‘Xmas’ is fresh, funny, heartfelt, and entertaining with deftly delivered satire and all the feelings – from fun to frustration – of the holiday season.

Performances run through Dec. 23 at 705 N. Illinois St., downtown Indianapolis. Get tickets at phoenixtheatre.org. And at the show, tell Gustav we said “Hi.”

OnyxFest: Black is My Color

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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 John Lyle Belden

In a bookstore and coffee shop called I Take It BLACK, two “sistahs” meet. The millennial (Paige Elisse) shares her personal frustrations with an older poet (Marlena Johnson), who shares the wisdom and verse of Mari Evans.

“Who’s that?!” the young woman asks. 

For many of us watching “Black is my Color,” by journalist and playwright Celeste Williams, this is sadly a common question. Evans, who resided in Indianapolis until her death in 2017, was a world-renowned poet, author, and activist. Today, a full-body portrait of her looks down on us from a wall on Massachusetts Ave., but she is not as widely and readily known as other people so honored around Indy. This play helps to introduce us to the woman in the mural.

“Who can be born Black and not exult!” The young reader is puzzled at this declaration. To reach understanding, we step back in time to a cluttered living room where Evans (Ellen Price Sayles Lane) grants a rare interview. She seems to both resent and welcome being considered a “troublemaker” – “I look at everything through a Black lens.”

As Evans speaks, “Who I am is who I was at (age) 5,” her young spirit (Amani Muhammad) appears. She and Elisse dance to accompany the poetry. Evans speaks fondly of the lost community around Indiana Avenue, and frankly about her adopted hometown – “The contradictions are more seething here in Indianapolis.”

Directed by TaMara E’lan G. and Manon Voice, this show is a much-needed lesson in local history, especially of the lives and perspective of African Americans, as well as an insight into a brilliant woman who lived among us, dedicating her life to Black – and therefore human – empowerment. Lane as Evans radiates both power and a generous spirit, holding no malice but accepting no compromise. Muhammad and Elisse are an artful chorus of movement, and Johnson happily gives us entry to this important figure’s world.

As this work develops through its performances, hopefully we will see more of “Black is My Color” at future events.