Episodic Theatre

In reading The Colored Museum, I am forced to reconsider a preconception that I've held regarding what I consider strong theatre. I've always been a bit prejudiced (maybe the wrong term to use in discussion of this play) against episodic theatre - I don't like Spoon River, or Galileo because these plays are basically chopped up into little vignettes. I prefer one story, even if it's complicated, to a series of chopped up events.

I am, however, beginning to see the value of this type of theatre. It certainly has a long history; one might even argue that The Trojan Woman is episodic theatre. I think that this style is especially useful to the playwright trying to make an activist point. Often, when we as playwrights get into a storyline, we lose our way in regard to overall theme. In those cases, and often powerfully, the story resonates more than the point we are trying to make. If, however, we desire to use theatre as a tool for social or cultural change, it might be important to simply craft smaller scenes that offer less complication and confusion to the viewer regarding our driving point.

The Colored Museum

The colored museum, I really don't know what to say. I think it was said in class that this play is realism but I'm not so sure. Time Warps, Cooking up black people in a pot and a girl laying eggs doesn't seem realistic to me. Anyway I think that this is a very interesting play, although it's a little crazy. And since I'm doing a visual response to this it made me think just how I would direct something like this. I've never actually wanted to direct any play but the colored museum just sparked my interest. To begin with I would consider the costumes, specifically Miss Roi's and Miss Pat's. For Miss Pat I don't know exactly what kind of stewardess costume I would choose. Should I go more modern with it? My version of the play dictates that she's in a mini skirt ensemble. This seems to me like a modern type of outfit. Not one that but it has to be pink. So should I follow directions or just go my own way completely. And then there's Miss Roi. I see a lot of flamboyant colors when I think of this character. And a feather boa around his neck or something. Or perhaps I should add a whole lot of jewelry. Necklaces and such. Lots of makeup and I don't know that's as far as I can see.
Putting this thing on stage, I don't know I can see like all of the exhibits lined up upstage and as it's each ones turn the occupants can step forward and do their parts. And step back to their places once they're finished. But that leads to a problem of props. If I did it this way then there would be a minimum of objects that I would use.
This play is fun to speculate on how it should be produced; now the only question is, to follow stage directions or not to follow stage directions.

Towards the end of class on Monday, one of the questions that was posed was "Do you think the play ends where it ends or can their be another story to be told after the Younger family packs up and leaves?" Some felt that once the play is over, it is over, that the drama happens within the play, for that given time of the performance, end of story. I happened to differ on the subject. I feel that when the Younger family packed up to move, the drama would be able to continue even after the play ended. The play did not end for me because I was left thinking, "What is to happen after this family moves to this particular neighborhood, especially during the time period they live in?"I believe that plays, like this one, are meant to stir up questions and encourage people to think about the society in which they live. A Raisin in the Sun does just that, even though the Younger family was not seeking to be leaders of the civil rights movement, they, in their own way, served as examples of how advancement in one's life can be made possible, no matter what race you are.

a hopeful play?

So often this week, we have asked if A Raisin in the Sun is a hopeful play. I just don't know if I can answer this question yes...or no. The Youngers overcome their specific experience of institutional/systematic racism with Mr. Lindner and the Clybourne Park Improvement Association. But what is to come? The Youngers assimilate, and after all of Beneatha's talk about "assimilationist Negroes!" Or do they? How do we know the answer? I know it makes me question the hopeful aspect of this play. But what's the alternative? Are all minorities supposed to struggle through the hard times to find the light at the end of the tunnel? Does this make us a stronger breed, more prepared for the feat of living in a society laced with racism, classism, sexism, agism, and any other "ism" out there? I know, as a woman, I struggle with strength and being independent, because it would be so easy to depend on a man to support me. But I do not want that. But I still want someone to take care of me, so long as I can take care of them as well. Is is possible to have both? Can we sort-of assimilate into the standards and expectations of whatever our sociological group is? How are American minorities supposed to bend and fit into the standards of their kind, as well as get what they want? Maybe Obama has the answer, I don't know...

Sand vs Rock

One other thing that strikes me about comparing Doll House to Raisin is the specificity of each family’s living condition and how that informs and causes the ultimate outcomes.
The Helmers live in comparative luxury- multiple rooms, an upstairs big enough for a party, servants to do the “heavy lifting” in raising children. There is, also, no extended family living in their home. The Youngers’ apartment- not house- has three rooms, none of which is a bathroom (!) and, as the family grew, generations came to live in this small dwelling, providing a shared parenting.
Nora’s shelteredness from her own self as well as the world at large came about directly because of the materialistic life she had always experienced. Because of this she has to abandon everything (including her young children) to find and create her own identity. Walter Lee, on the other hand, may need to get away from the physical reminders of his confined, cramped existence and get a drink every now and then, but even as the money that would have made such a huge difference in their lives is squandered, neither he nor anyone else leaves the home or the family.
To me the difference is this: the wealthy rulers of any society must be so concerned with the trappings and accoutrement of “success” that any personal identity becomes rooted in those things and, hence, is just as transitory. Conversely, the downtrodden of a society know what is truly important (i.e. family bonds, material things’ longevity rather than aesthetic function) and that causes them to not only survive such devastations but find the strength of character to thrive.

This ain't National Geographic!

I’m very glad we’re studying this play. As much as material or language may have been a challenge in past plays, this one will, I think, stretch our aesthetic sensibilities. It may take some “filling the blanks” with “leaps of faith” (yes, a mixed metaphor) but if we can come to understand Talthybius, the Friar, or even Nora’s need to abandon her children, the Yoruba-specific aspects of this play should feed and enrich the message(s) this play offers.
Though, obviously, Soyinka’s message here is the futility and tragedy of Western colonialization and oppression, I- because of recent life events- am most struck by the juxtaposition of views of death presented in this play.
Being conditioned by Protestant Christianity, I tend, as I believe most Americans do, to see death as a finality; the soul or spirit going to a “world” completely cut off from this plane of physical existence. It takes some effort for me to see the world which I actively perceive as existing parallel to this “spirit world”- though I very much want to believe that. Having lost my father a few years ago and, just this week, a close family friend, I wish Westerners had a cultural construct of the egungun, ancestral spirits looking out for us, still available for supplication and guidance.
Stepping over to this “spirit world” is seen as a great opportunity, as the opening scene celebrates, and giving one’s life to preserve others’ perhaps the highest honor; the exchange between Olunde and Jane illustrates this.
If I were to stage this I would, first and foremost, immerse myself in as much of the Yoruba cultural standard as practical (you can’t effectively tell any story if you don’t understand the symbolism employed). Using the opening to position the Eurocentric audience members as the outsiders surrounded by “the others,” I would have as much of the singing, dancing, drumming, and ceremony in the aisles and amongst the audience as would be coherently possible. Perhaps, also, scene 3 where Amusa and his men are being held at bay by the women. These scenes speak directly to and set up the poison of enforced cultural supremacy.
The other scenes would be, as we discussed, straightforward European realism. I believe Soyinka wanted white culturalists to see the humanity of the Nigerians. Telling this story wholly through Yoruban aesthetics would cause a European audience to look at the production as a cultural documentary, and overlook the human tragedy, a tragedy on the scale of the ancient Greeks.

Sacrifices

It's interesting when we experience something new or different. You question where it came from, it's reason for being, and ask what it accomplishes. Or you just sit back and enjoy it for what it is. For the missionaries in "Death and the King's Horseman, experienceing new things and embracing a new culture was very difficult.

The ritualistic giving of one's self up when the King dies is tradition. It is expected of the King's right hand man, his lead Horseman. The Yoruba look at this a s a natural part of life and a necessary part of their culture. The missionaries did not understand this a looked at the act as gruesome. For them, death is the end. For the Yoruba tribe, death is the beginning of something new and a way to keep close and remain one with the earth. 

It was interesting the way the two sides viewed the ceremony. For the Yoruba, it was a time of celebration. Elesin became one with the earth and was prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice and die just as his king died. The missionaries thought all of this was insane and ridiculed the Yoruba for their actions. 

I wonder if we, as people, would ever give our lives up for something that was dear to us. Soldiers do it everyday. For Elesin and Olunde, there was no second thought. They had a meaningful and profound relationship with nature and strong beliefs in their religion. They made the ultimate sacrifice and committed ritual suicide, knowing that if they didn't, the communities future could be in shambles. What would you do?