I didn’t quite reach Cloud 9 while reading this play. I am not sure I even got off the ground. When one needs a flow chart to follow who is playing whom, and doing what with whom, to who which is not really whom you think they are; is a bit much. Plays are meant to be seen and not read and this play should be the poster child of that saying. This is a ploy usually when writing a farce and I do not see this as anything but a group of people getting together and saying “lets write a crazy play” Some things work, but many don’t.
There are a couple good moments in this play, like the moment Joshua is about to shoot Clive and Edward is the only one to see it coming. Too bad this doesn’t happen earlier so we could be put out of our miseries. I am more connected in Act one than in Act two. There is more a cohesion in Act one than Act Two. Do we really need Act two in this play? My vote is no.
This is not the only play that takes characters from one act and transports them to another time in the second. Other plays like The Most Fabulous Story Ever told and the Broadway musical Romance, Romance do this and do it much better.
Cross gender casting is always fun and can add a bit of excitement to a show. However in Cloud 9 I find it distracting, but like I said earlier it may be because I am not seeing it. With the scene between Harry and Edward there would be a really creepy vibe between the two had they actually cast Edward as a guy. (Pg 23-25)
I have a question maybe someone can help me answer. Why is it that of sum 40 plays and 50 years of writing I have never heard of ONE single play this person has written? Who does that speak less of? Me for not knowing them or of them not being widely produced?
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Spirtiuality and Religion's Function in Joe Turner's Come and Gone
Spirituality is the guiding light in this play. And Bynum Walker appears to be a light bearers. The old man is the most aware of his destiny and uses knowledge of the spirit world and his skills as a conjure man to "bind people" and help them "find their song." The lost soul of Herald Loomis, once held by the tyrannical hand, now wanders lost walking the skeleton's he claims to have seen walking on the water. Loomis wants to find his wife to obtain closure and start his life over again. What makes this difficult is his decision on how to find that inner peace: Should he obtain it through Christianity he embraced in his past, or through the spirituality advocated by Bynum? Mattie Campbell yearns for consistency in her life and for a good, strong, loyal man to make her feel complete. It isn't until Herald Loomis comes into the picture that she starts to feel genuinely hopeful about her ambitions. With these characters and their given circumstances, Wilson successfully conveys the significance of spirituality with regard to the human psyche and soul.
However, he fails to portray the religion of Christianity accurately and depends on the stereotypes associated with Christianity to get his point across. As a Christian, Martha Pentecost is someone who irks me. True, this woman dedicates herself to the service of the Lord and continues to preach the Word in various parts of the country. But to abandon her husband, her spouse; to basically forget the loyalty and honor bindings of marriage that the Bible holds dear...well, I just see it as blatant hypocrisy. Not to mention abandoning her child, probably the most valuable, precious human being in her life. Who is to say that she couldn't stay with her family and still provide optimum service unto the Father? Her motivations may seem selfless at first. But once we examine her actions and the actual teachings of the bible, we see that she was weak and gave into her own selfishness, missionary of the Word or not.
Don't get me wrong. I LOVE this play. I think it is one of Wilson's best and I find tremendous value in the story, the characters, and their words. And yet, I find myself dissatisfied with the way Christianity seems to be portrayed in this book. Wilson has the character of Martha Pentecost/Loomis stand as representative for the Christian religion. I find this interpretation to be somewhat flawed, because the story shows her to be a religious hypocrite running off to join the cult of the Holy Ghost and leave the ones she loves behind. This is not at all accurate, because NOT ALL Christians have the same narrow-minded views of Martha and her peers. Many are selfless and stay behind to work for and take care of those before themselves. I agree with Wilson that spirituality is a wonderful thing to have in your life. But I'm afraid he misses the mark when it comes to portraying the values and aims of Christianity accurately. With this narrow-minded view of Christianity, Wilson succeeds only in Martha Pentecost being a stereotype and an invalid representation of the Christian faith.
However, he fails to portray the religion of Christianity accurately and depends on the stereotypes associated with Christianity to get his point across. As a Christian, Martha Pentecost is someone who irks me. True, this woman dedicates herself to the service of the Lord and continues to preach the Word in various parts of the country. But to abandon her husband, her spouse; to basically forget the loyalty and honor bindings of marriage that the Bible holds dear...well, I just see it as blatant hypocrisy. Not to mention abandoning her child, probably the most valuable, precious human being in her life. Who is to say that she couldn't stay with her family and still provide optimum service unto the Father? Her motivations may seem selfless at first. But once we examine her actions and the actual teachings of the bible, we see that she was weak and gave into her own selfishness, missionary of the Word or not.
Don't get me wrong. I LOVE this play. I think it is one of Wilson's best and I find tremendous value in the story, the characters, and their words. And yet, I find myself dissatisfied with the way Christianity seems to be portrayed in this book. Wilson has the character of Martha Pentecost/Loomis stand as representative for the Christian religion. I find this interpretation to be somewhat flawed, because the story shows her to be a religious hypocrite running off to join the cult of the Holy Ghost and leave the ones she loves behind. This is not at all accurate, because NOT ALL Christians have the same narrow-minded views of Martha and her peers. Many are selfless and stay behind to work for and take care of those before themselves. I agree with Wilson that spirituality is a wonderful thing to have in your life. But I'm afraid he misses the mark when it comes to portraying the values and aims of Christianity accurately. With this narrow-minded view of Christianity, Wilson succeeds only in Martha Pentecost being a stereotype and an invalid representation of the Christian faith.
A Belated But Still Pertinent Post: Keeping the Balance
So which is good and which is evil: The British Occupants or the members of the Yoruba tribe? Perhaps it depends on how you were raised or more importantly, what you were raised to believe is right and wrong. With this play, I, like the prodigal son, Olunde, find myself caught inside a seemingly inescapable Catch-22. This is because pros AND cons exist on either side of the conflict.
When the British began to colonize Africa, some had very decent honorable intentions, acting as educators and Christian Missionaries to the African tribesmen/women. But I also believe that the British government's occupation of African tribal territories by way of force, violence, and enslavement is beyond reproach. On the other side of things, The Yoruba tribe appear to be a very spiritual, peaceful people who respect the African and its native inhabitants. However, I am a Christian and believe suicide, although, a very real result of depression and hopelessness, is wrong and not a feasible option for leaving this world.
Olunde is representative of these conflicting ideals. As both a functioning member of British society and the son of a Yoruba Elesin ("horseman"). As a result, he is torn between his ambition to heal the sick as a doctor and his responsibilities as the heir to the tribe's Elesin. He seems to be alright with the fact that his father is fulfilling his honorable duty as the Yoruba king's Horseman: by killling himself, Elesin Oba hopes to rejoin his king in the afterlife. We see this at the costume ball, when he urges Jane Pilkings to talk to her husband , in the hope that the British officer will make the decision not to prevent Elesin Oba from fulfilling his ritual. Yet, we also see his reluctance to take his father's place as Elesin.
When Elesin Oba is arrested by Pilkings and his police, Olunde is forced to make his choice. At first, with his public rejection and disowning of his father, we are led to believe that Olunde has rejected his African heritage and will return to England. But later when the women from the market place bring his body to the prison wrapped in a burial shroud, his choice of home and responsibility becomes quite clear. The question now is did this smooth over the conflict between the Yoruba and the British government? Or did this just exacerbate the problem further?
When the British began to colonize Africa, some had very decent honorable intentions, acting as educators and Christian Missionaries to the African tribesmen/women. But I also believe that the British government's occupation of African tribal territories by way of force, violence, and enslavement is beyond reproach. On the other side of things, The Yoruba tribe appear to be a very spiritual, peaceful people who respect the African and its native inhabitants. However, I am a Christian and believe suicide, although, a very real result of depression and hopelessness, is wrong and not a feasible option for leaving this world.
Olunde is representative of these conflicting ideals. As both a functioning member of British society and the son of a Yoruba Elesin ("horseman"). As a result, he is torn between his ambition to heal the sick as a doctor and his responsibilities as the heir to the tribe's Elesin. He seems to be alright with the fact that his father is fulfilling his honorable duty as the Yoruba king's Horseman: by killling himself, Elesin Oba hopes to rejoin his king in the afterlife. We see this at the costume ball, when he urges Jane Pilkings to talk to her husband , in the hope that the British officer will make the decision not to prevent Elesin Oba from fulfilling his ritual. Yet, we also see his reluctance to take his father's place as Elesin.
When Elesin Oba is arrested by Pilkings and his police, Olunde is forced to make his choice. At first, with his public rejection and disowning of his father, we are led to believe that Olunde has rejected his African heritage and will return to England. But later when the women from the market place bring his body to the prison wrapped in a burial shroud, his choice of home and responsibility becomes quite clear. The question now is did this smooth over the conflict between the Yoruba and the British government? Or did this just exacerbate the problem further?
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
A Song is a Wish Your Heart Makes. . . .
I know that’s not how the song actually goes but it does describe my reading of late. Over the course of the past several weeks, I’ve encountered three different and yet important portrayals of song. I’m just not entirely sure what to do with these distinct images. I feel much as if someone handed me several puzzle pieces and told me to make a picture; I’m just not sure if the pieces make the same puzzle. Nevertheless, I must see if I can make a cohesive image.
Having spent the majority of my life engaged in a relationship with a giant singing mouse, I appreciate the idea that each of us has songs lurking inside, waiting for the right moment (and the perfect assembly of ensemble) to burst forth. I also believe that there are times when songs are the only means of expression. True, we may not have a “Can You Feel the Love Tonight?” type song erupt from our imagination impromptu but that doesn’t mean that there hasn’t been a song performed and created by another that seems to represent more than we can put into words.
With that said, with such feelings on the subject, perhaps I merely see a connection of melody where none actually exists.
The first piece of the puzzle comes from this week’s assigned text: August Wilson’s “Joe Turner’s Come and Gone.” One of the most powerful moments of the play is delivered in stage directions for some ambitious actor to embody. Wilson writes that Loomis, “[having] found his song, the song of self-sufficiency, fully resurrected, cleansed and given breath, free from any encumbrance other than the workings of his own heart and the bonds of the flesh, having accepted the responsibility for his own presence in the world, he is free to soar above the environs that weighed and pushed his spirit into terrifying contractions” (93-94 Plume Edition). How, I ask, is an actor to portray all of this? How is the audience to know that such a pivotal moment has just occurred? Even if the best actor manages to convey freedom in his body language, how can he show that his song has been actualized? In some ways, I almost feel as if Wilson has cheated his audiences here. Instead of struggling to find the words to express this sentiment, he just writes “Goodbye, Martha” and leaves the rest up to the acting (94 Plume Edition).
Take that idea, that image, and juxtapose on top of it the images that Wole Soyinka creates in “Death and the King’s Horseman.” Soyinka, in capturing the essence of his people, the Yoruba, ensures that song is an ever-felt presence. Here, however, it comes most often from the Praise-Singer, a man whose job it is to sing not the songs hidden within his own heart but the melodies belonging to another man. The Praise-Singer’s music is critical; it is not only the acknowledgement of Elesin but the insurance that Elesin fulfills his sacred duty. No less important that Loomis’ “song of self-sufficiency,” the Praise-Singer’s music gains its power based on the needs of a greater collective. We have then, two types of song: the song of the individual and the song needed for the community. These two portrayals of song couldn’t be too much more different in nature (one sung by a man, the other sung to a man, one sung solo, the other sung communal) and yet found in each is a truth powerful enough to shake worldviews and rock entire foundations.
Over these two images, I find myself complicating things by adding a third. Frederick Douglass, in his personal narrative, wrote “I have often been utterly astonished, since I came north, to find persons who speak of the singing, among slaves, as evidence of their contentment and happiness. It is impossible to conceive of a greater mistake. Slaves sing most when they are most unhappy. The songs of the slave represent the sorrows of his heart; and he is relived by them, only as an aching heart is relived by its tears” (9 Dover Edition). Out of all that Douglass had to say, much of which was powerful, this image has taken precedence, twisting and reshaping my thoughts. And as I read these two other plays enriched with music, speaking of the colonized Yoruba and the recently freed African Americans, I wonder how Douglass’ observation fits into the greater whole, if it does at all.
As I’m not sure that I’ve found anything amazing to stay about my puzzle pieces, I don’t have much else to say. Perhaps there is no connection or perhaps the connection is so profound that it boggles my little mind (much along the lines of ‘can God create something so large, even He can’t move it?’) Either way, I can’t help but feel that these three images are stuck in my head for a reason. Any thoughts?
Having spent the majority of my life engaged in a relationship with a giant singing mouse, I appreciate the idea that each of us has songs lurking inside, waiting for the right moment (and the perfect assembly of ensemble) to burst forth. I also believe that there are times when songs are the only means of expression. True, we may not have a “Can You Feel the Love Tonight?” type song erupt from our imagination impromptu but that doesn’t mean that there hasn’t been a song performed and created by another that seems to represent more than we can put into words.
With that said, with such feelings on the subject, perhaps I merely see a connection of melody where none actually exists.
The first piece of the puzzle comes from this week’s assigned text: August Wilson’s “Joe Turner’s Come and Gone.” One of the most powerful moments of the play is delivered in stage directions for some ambitious actor to embody. Wilson writes that Loomis, “[having] found his song, the song of self-sufficiency, fully resurrected, cleansed and given breath, free from any encumbrance other than the workings of his own heart and the bonds of the flesh, having accepted the responsibility for his own presence in the world, he is free to soar above the environs that weighed and pushed his spirit into terrifying contractions” (93-94 Plume Edition). How, I ask, is an actor to portray all of this? How is the audience to know that such a pivotal moment has just occurred? Even if the best actor manages to convey freedom in his body language, how can he show that his song has been actualized? In some ways, I almost feel as if Wilson has cheated his audiences here. Instead of struggling to find the words to express this sentiment, he just writes “Goodbye, Martha” and leaves the rest up to the acting (94 Plume Edition).
Take that idea, that image, and juxtapose on top of it the images that Wole Soyinka creates in “Death and the King’s Horseman.” Soyinka, in capturing the essence of his people, the Yoruba, ensures that song is an ever-felt presence. Here, however, it comes most often from the Praise-Singer, a man whose job it is to sing not the songs hidden within his own heart but the melodies belonging to another man. The Praise-Singer’s music is critical; it is not only the acknowledgement of Elesin but the insurance that Elesin fulfills his sacred duty. No less important that Loomis’ “song of self-sufficiency,” the Praise-Singer’s music gains its power based on the needs of a greater collective. We have then, two types of song: the song of the individual and the song needed for the community. These two portrayals of song couldn’t be too much more different in nature (one sung by a man, the other sung to a man, one sung solo, the other sung communal) and yet found in each is a truth powerful enough to shake worldviews and rock entire foundations.
Over these two images, I find myself complicating things by adding a third. Frederick Douglass, in his personal narrative, wrote “I have often been utterly astonished, since I came north, to find persons who speak of the singing, among slaves, as evidence of their contentment and happiness. It is impossible to conceive of a greater mistake. Slaves sing most when they are most unhappy. The songs of the slave represent the sorrows of his heart; and he is relived by them, only as an aching heart is relived by its tears” (9 Dover Edition). Out of all that Douglass had to say, much of which was powerful, this image has taken precedence, twisting and reshaping my thoughts. And as I read these two other plays enriched with music, speaking of the colonized Yoruba and the recently freed African Americans, I wonder how Douglass’ observation fits into the greater whole, if it does at all.
As I’m not sure that I’ve found anything amazing to stay about my puzzle pieces, I don’t have much else to say. Perhaps there is no connection or perhaps the connection is so profound that it boggles my little mind (much along the lines of ‘can God create something so large, even He can’t move it?’) Either way, I can’t help but feel that these three images are stuck in my head for a reason. Any thoughts?
The Culture of Black Incarceration
“If a black was convicted of vagrancy or some minor offense (petty larceny, drunkenness), and fined, he became… in effect a kind of slave; he was turned over to a white employer who paid the fine and got a laborer in return (Lawrence 95)”
In this chapter of Crime and Punishment in American History, author Lawrence Friedman is discussing the incarceration of black men in Post-Reconstruction America. Reconstruction was a confusing time in America. When the Civil War ended there was chaos in the south. The southern economy was crippled not only by the free work force it lost, but by the price tag for the war. During the years of Reconstruction the incarceration rates of newly freed slaves skyrocketed. Often they would be incarcerated for the most ridiculous crimes. They would be arrested and put to work on a chain gang.
Incarceration is a reoccurring theme in Joe Turner’s Come and Gone. The first time we hear about it in the play is at the very beginning. Jeremy is not at breakfast because he was picked up by the police for hanging out after work. Later on in the play we find out that Herald Loomis did a seven year bid on the chain gang. On page 74 of my text Loomis says, “I was walking down this road in this little town outside of Memphis. Come up on these fellows gambling. I stooped to preach to these fellows to see if maybe I could turn some of them from their sinning when Joe Tunrer, brother of the Governor of the great sovereign state of Tennessee, swooped down on us and grabbed everybody there. Kept us all seven years. My wife Martha hone from me after Joe Turner catched me…I just wanna see her face so I can get me a starting place in the world(Wilson 74).” This bit of information is critical. Not only does it tell how the play got its title, but it explains why Herald Loomis is lost.
One hundred years after men like Herald Loomis went to prison black men are still going to jail at alarming numbers. According to an essay published in Being a Black Man: At the Corner of Progress Peril, Hamil Harris and Ben De La Cruz are quoted saying, “More than a fifth of all black men ages 35 to 44 have been to prison—twice the percentage pf Hispanic men and six times the percentage of white men in the same age group. If current incarceration rates hold, Justice Department statisticians project, about one in three black males will go to state or federal prison during their lifetimes. One of every 14 black children has a parent in prison. Since 1954, when 98,000 blacks were incarcerated, the black prison population has grown to nearly 1 million. Although blacks account for just 12 percent of the population of the U.S. population, 44 percent of all inmates are black. In each state in this nation, the percentage of blacks in prison exceeds the percentage of African Americans in the general population (Being 239).”
In the past thirty years incarceration has become apart of the culture of black poverty. In some black communities going to jail has become a rite of passage. I think what has happened is that for so long so man black people were going to jail that it became a way of life. I love this play because August Wilson does a great job of putting the culture of black incarceration into perspective for the theatre world. It dose not take much to connect the dots from 1865, to 1911, to 2009.
Works Cited
Being a Black Man At the Corner of Progress and Peril. New York: PublicAffairs, 2007. Print.
Friedman, Lawrence M. Crime and Punisment in American History. Basic Books, 1994. Print.
Wilson, August. Joe Turner's Come and Gone: a play in two acts. New American Library, 1988. Print.
In this chapter of Crime and Punishment in American History, author Lawrence Friedman is discussing the incarceration of black men in Post-Reconstruction America. Reconstruction was a confusing time in America. When the Civil War ended there was chaos in the south. The southern economy was crippled not only by the free work force it lost, but by the price tag for the war. During the years of Reconstruction the incarceration rates of newly freed slaves skyrocketed. Often they would be incarcerated for the most ridiculous crimes. They would be arrested and put to work on a chain gang.
Incarceration is a reoccurring theme in Joe Turner’s Come and Gone. The first time we hear about it in the play is at the very beginning. Jeremy is not at breakfast because he was picked up by the police for hanging out after work. Later on in the play we find out that Herald Loomis did a seven year bid on the chain gang. On page 74 of my text Loomis says, “I was walking down this road in this little town outside of Memphis. Come up on these fellows gambling. I stooped to preach to these fellows to see if maybe I could turn some of them from their sinning when Joe Tunrer, brother of the Governor of the great sovereign state of Tennessee, swooped down on us and grabbed everybody there. Kept us all seven years. My wife Martha hone from me after Joe Turner catched me…I just wanna see her face so I can get me a starting place in the world(Wilson 74).” This bit of information is critical. Not only does it tell how the play got its title, but it explains why Herald Loomis is lost.
One hundred years after men like Herald Loomis went to prison black men are still going to jail at alarming numbers. According to an essay published in Being a Black Man: At the Corner of Progress Peril, Hamil Harris and Ben De La Cruz are quoted saying, “More than a fifth of all black men ages 35 to 44 have been to prison—twice the percentage pf Hispanic men and six times the percentage of white men in the same age group. If current incarceration rates hold, Justice Department statisticians project, about one in three black males will go to state or federal prison during their lifetimes. One of every 14 black children has a parent in prison. Since 1954, when 98,000 blacks were incarcerated, the black prison population has grown to nearly 1 million. Although blacks account for just 12 percent of the population of the U.S. population, 44 percent of all inmates are black. In each state in this nation, the percentage of blacks in prison exceeds the percentage of African Americans in the general population (Being 239).”
In the past thirty years incarceration has become apart of the culture of black poverty. In some black communities going to jail has become a rite of passage. I think what has happened is that for so long so man black people were going to jail that it became a way of life. I love this play because August Wilson does a great job of putting the culture of black incarceration into perspective for the theatre world. It dose not take much to connect the dots from 1865, to 1911, to 2009.
Works Cited
Being a Black Man At the Corner of Progress and Peril. New York: PublicAffairs, 2007. Print.
Friedman, Lawrence M. Crime and Punisment in American History. Basic Books, 1994. Print.
Wilson, August. Joe Turner's Come and Gone: a play in two acts. New American Library, 1988. Print.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Culture of the marketplace and kitchen
I wanted to take a moment and talk about my first impressions of Joe Turner’s Come and Gone and Death and the Kings Horseman. The first thing I thought was the setting that ties each of these plays together, and the music that is used throughout the plays that give each one a solid heart.
In Joe Turner’s Come and Gone we are given a homey, large kitchen and parlor in which many of the scenes take place around a table. While in Death and the Kings Horseman there are several places we travel to, I want to focus on the Marketplace. It is the Marketplace where we are first introduced to our characters, it is also here where most of the important scenes (except the final scene) regarding the characters that are native to Nigeria are seen and heard through poetry and dance.
The Kitchen for many brings up feelings of Mom and family, when one has a party where do most of the guests congregate? If it is large enough the kitchen or dining room will be the meeting place. It may be more comfortable to be in the living room on the couch, but you often find the kitchen is the heart of the home. The Holly’s home in Joe Turner is no different. The boarders may not be family per say but they act like one.
Then you have the Marketplace in Death and the Kings Horseman. We learned last week the market place was a meeting place and usually run by the women, so I find it fitting to place the wedding scene and the ritual of passage here where it is lead by the women. The kitchen and marketplace are run and fed by strong women.
In the Holly home, Bertha may not have a lot of lines but the kitchen is her domain and she runs it with a firm hand. For example in Act Two Scene One Bertha says to Seth while making breakfast “go on out there and make some pots and pans and leave them people alone.” And in Death when the “police” arrive in the marketplace to take Elesin away the women stand up to them and even mock them by speaking with English accents.
This brings me then to the music and songs used in both plays. Considering both plays are on different continents, during different time periods the feel is similar and the sound is too, to a point. In Death they perform a Yoruba dance. Lead by a praise singer with drums this is a call and response song consisting of poetry and verse. In Joe turner they also have a call and response song called a Yuba, based on Ring Shouts of the African Slaves. (page 52 of JTCAG) Since they do not have any drums they use the table or chests to pound out the heavy beat.
The following is a better example of the Yuba song as defined by the Encyclopedia Britannica: A dance of Afro-American slaves, found as late as the 19th century from Dutch Guiana to the Caribbean and the southern United States. It was danced by a circle of men around two men who performed various steps (e.g., the juba, the long dog scratch, the pigeon wing) in response to a rhythmic call and to the clapping (patting juba) of the other dancers. As a refrain, after each new step the circle danced counterclockwise using the juba step. The juba contained features that persist in Afro-American dances, notably improvisation, shuffle steps, supple body movements, and sharp rhythms and was probably related to the African giouba.
“Patting juba”—slapping the hands, legs, and body to produce complex, rapid rhythms—survived the dance and still appears occasionally in areas where the dance had flourished.
Lastly I found it very fascinating that Joe turner takes place in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania 1910 about 30 years prior to Death and the Kings Horseman (1944). But when you read the two side by side I get a more contemporary feel from Wilson than I do Soyinka. That’s a whole nother blog!
Here is a link to a quick video of the Lincoln Center’s production of Joe Turner.
http://www.lct.org/showMain.htm?id=186
In Joe Turner’s Come and Gone we are given a homey, large kitchen and parlor in which many of the scenes take place around a table. While in Death and the Kings Horseman there are several places we travel to, I want to focus on the Marketplace. It is the Marketplace where we are first introduced to our characters, it is also here where most of the important scenes (except the final scene) regarding the characters that are native to Nigeria are seen and heard through poetry and dance.
The Kitchen for many brings up feelings of Mom and family, when one has a party where do most of the guests congregate? If it is large enough the kitchen or dining room will be the meeting place. It may be more comfortable to be in the living room on the couch, but you often find the kitchen is the heart of the home. The Holly’s home in Joe Turner is no different. The boarders may not be family per say but they act like one.
Then you have the Marketplace in Death and the Kings Horseman. We learned last week the market place was a meeting place and usually run by the women, so I find it fitting to place the wedding scene and the ritual of passage here where it is lead by the women. The kitchen and marketplace are run and fed by strong women.
In the Holly home, Bertha may not have a lot of lines but the kitchen is her domain and she runs it with a firm hand. For example in Act Two Scene One Bertha says to Seth while making breakfast “go on out there and make some pots and pans and leave them people alone.” And in Death when the “police” arrive in the marketplace to take Elesin away the women stand up to them and even mock them by speaking with English accents.
This brings me then to the music and songs used in both plays. Considering both plays are on different continents, during different time periods the feel is similar and the sound is too, to a point. In Death they perform a Yoruba dance. Lead by a praise singer with drums this is a call and response song consisting of poetry and verse. In Joe turner they also have a call and response song called a Yuba, based on Ring Shouts of the African Slaves. (page 52 of JTCAG) Since they do not have any drums they use the table or chests to pound out the heavy beat.
The following is a better example of the Yuba song as defined by the Encyclopedia Britannica: A dance of Afro-American slaves, found as late as the 19th century from Dutch Guiana to the Caribbean and the southern United States. It was danced by a circle of men around two men who performed various steps (e.g., the juba, the long dog scratch, the pigeon wing) in response to a rhythmic call and to the clapping (patting juba) of the other dancers. As a refrain, after each new step the circle danced counterclockwise using the juba step. The juba contained features that persist in Afro-American dances, notably improvisation, shuffle steps, supple body movements, and sharp rhythms and was probably related to the African giouba.
“Patting juba”—slapping the hands, legs, and body to produce complex, rapid rhythms—survived the dance and still appears occasionally in areas where the dance had flourished.
Lastly I found it very fascinating that Joe turner takes place in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania 1910 about 30 years prior to Death and the Kings Horseman (1944). But when you read the two side by side I get a more contemporary feel from Wilson than I do Soyinka. That’s a whole nother blog!
Here is a link to a quick video of the Lincoln Center’s production of Joe Turner.
http://www.lct.org/showMain.htm?id=186
J'veux ton amour, Et je veux ta revanche
After debating in class what was really meant behind "clash of cultures" I began wondering - what is so wrong with that? Many definitions of clash deal with a physical battle between two separate things. In this sense, the battle would be between the English Colonials and the Yoruba people. If this clearly is a story that deals with the two, why is focusing on their differences such a bad thing? AFter thinking about this, perhaps it is because the differences are completely noticeable without ever having to be defined. When I first read the play and was coming up with my own idea of how it would be portrayed, the production had the two cultures at completely different ends of the spectrum. The Yoruba scenes were played in the thrust portion of my stage to show openness, but the English scenes were performed behind the proscenium to present a stereotypical classic style of doing drama. I even wanted the English people to be painted in a way that they resembled clowns. But then the author's notes have a way of haunting the reader/producer. I didn't want to present a clash of culture.
While reading the theory of Post-colonialism, it talks about Soyinka specifically wanting to discuss the differences between cultures (red flag?). However, it goes on to discuss that he also focuses on survival, and when reading Death and the King's Horseman I believe that survival is key in what Soyinka is writing about. It's easy for one to be distracted by the clashing of the two cultures (and perhaps it's purposely written that way), but Soyinka even goes as far as to point survival out in his play. I think one of the most pivotal scenes in the show is the 4th scene in which Olunde finds Jane and they begin discussing Olunde's father's decisions. "I thought all that at the beginning. Then I slowly realised that your greatest art is the art of survival. But at least have the humility to let others survive in their own way" (Olunde, pg 53). It is in this scene where the physical barriers are torn down between the two cultures (as we see Olunde as a bridge between the two), but it is here where we see the true clashing of cultures as they are compared throughout the scene. Soyinka makes a very poignant juxtaposition of the cultures where we see ideal English colonial/Western perspective explicitly challenged and defeated from multi-cultural perspective.
I believe that Olunde is the pure example of survival. I think Soyinka, whether or not he meant to, created the survival out of the two cultures. That is not to say that the original Yoruba culture is in anyway wrong, but I think that it's impossible to imagine a non-european influence Yoruban, but we get close to that with Olunde. Another example, it got brought up in class the idea of natives playing the orchestrations at the Prince's reception - I tried to make a point of this but the conversation got distracted away into another area of thought, but would that not be an example of survival, and celebrating the blend (the positive idea of clash) of cultures, even though power is still unfair. I'm starting to get lost in thoughts, creating more questions and answers than I have the time to make sense of. I will end this saying that I believe survival is key and whichever route a producer of the play has to deal with the clashing of cultures is fine, as long as the end result is still a gut-wrenching understanding of BOTH cultures.
While reading the theory of Post-colonialism, it talks about Soyinka specifically wanting to discuss the differences between cultures (red flag?). However, it goes on to discuss that he also focuses on survival, and when reading Death and the King's Horseman I believe that survival is key in what Soyinka is writing about. It's easy for one to be distracted by the clashing of the two cultures (and perhaps it's purposely written that way), but Soyinka even goes as far as to point survival out in his play. I think one of the most pivotal scenes in the show is the 4th scene in which Olunde finds Jane and they begin discussing Olunde's father's decisions. "I thought all that at the beginning. Then I slowly realised that your greatest art is the art of survival. But at least have the humility to let others survive in their own way" (Olunde, pg 53). It is in this scene where the physical barriers are torn down between the two cultures (as we see Olunde as a bridge between the two), but it is here where we see the true clashing of cultures as they are compared throughout the scene. Soyinka makes a very poignant juxtaposition of the cultures where we see ideal English colonial/Western perspective explicitly challenged and defeated from multi-cultural perspective.
I believe that Olunde is the pure example of survival. I think Soyinka, whether or not he meant to, created the survival out of the two cultures. That is not to say that the original Yoruba culture is in anyway wrong, but I think that it's impossible to imagine a non-european influence Yoruban, but we get close to that with Olunde. Another example, it got brought up in class the idea of natives playing the orchestrations at the Prince's reception - I tried to make a point of this but the conversation got distracted away into another area of thought, but would that not be an example of survival, and celebrating the blend (the positive idea of clash) of cultures, even though power is still unfair. I'm starting to get lost in thoughts, creating more questions and answers than I have the time to make sense of. I will end this saying that I believe survival is key and whichever route a producer of the play has to deal with the clashing of cultures is fine, as long as the end result is still a gut-wrenching understanding of BOTH cultures.
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