Ma Rainey's Black Bottom

I think this might be my favorite of the Pittsburgh Cycle so far. This entry, set in a 1920's recording studio, follows the recording session of Ma Rainey, the Mother of the Blues, and more specifically the inter workings of her band. They arrive first, and are shuttled to a rehearsal room out of sight of the producer and Ma's manager (both white). As they prepare, we get to explore the personalities of the quartet: the jovial bassist Slow Rag, the stern and pious trombonist Cutler, the jagged intellectual Toledo on keys, and the ambitious go-getting trumpeter Levee. Wilson's famous metaphors get a ton of use with these, as each are representative of core facets of the Black experience, often described directly, as much as they are deep characters with hilarious interpersonal diatribe. Toledo's brain is likened to that of Booker T. Washington in how he advocates for literacy and education as a means of power; Levee, for example, butts heads with him on this as his embrace of self-starting capitalism is what drives him, going so far as to riff on Ma's songs and write his own to reach stardom on his own. Cutler and especially Slow Rag get the shorter end of the sticks in their symbolism over the two-act course, but are not "wasted" by any means, especially in Act II when Cutler splays his personality in junction with his faith, another foundational Black cornerstone. In fact for much of Act I, these fellas are all we get: it's a sort of Waiting for Ma that teeters on being a play where "nothing happens", just some guys learning how thinking works.

But then Ma arrives, and you can practically see her health bar appear on stage like a video game boss. Her impact is immediate and visceral, and her demanding demeanor foundationally shifts the tone of the piece from philosophical thumb-twiddling to the exploration of power within and between the marginalized and not-. Her mere presence introduces several more layers of thought into what was already a very thinky piece: ableism, queerness, and even police relations. It turns what was a cooler, Blacker, Stereophonic into a scene of instant notoriety as how Ma contorts the dynamic of that recording studio. But she's not an "Angry Black Woman" as such expressions of rage often evoke: she is just as complex and driven as any character on there, if not more. Her posse, too, such as her stuttering nephew Sylvester and "groupie" Dussie Mae, all represent unique facets of Ma that fling themselves into the world of the play outside of her immediate orbit but still carry traces of her magnanimity. The show's characters are kaleidoscopic in their envisioning of the Black experience, reverberating sociocultural frequencies felt even today. Even as the show ends on a downer -- as Wilson's plays often do -- you can't help but feel the symbolism and rich thought that Black Bottom brings to the table. In all of the sorrow and tragedy depicted in the play, there's still hope to be had in the Black American experience. After all, ain't that what the Blues are all about?10/10

Wilson's script is already layered beyond belief, stuffing so much conversation and ideology into a single play. It doesn't feel like you need to do much to improve that, and trying could work out poorly, unless you're a particularly good director.

Lili-Anne Brown is a particularly good director.

Her production is one I am still thinking about as I write this review three days after walking out of the theatre. Let's start with the set: Arnel Sancianco's tri (!)-level staging is stupendously effective. The show's commentary on the dynamics of power within entertainment from a Black lens are vividly represented by how the production is split. The band -- who make up much of the sound but are overlooked by the audience and the producers-- are most often delegated to a small, narrow basement area, seldomly moving to the larger middle tier. Ma and ger posse tends to spend most of her time in this region, representing her elevation in status above her Black peers. These levels are relatively close together, connected by a small hallway staircase, unlike the producer's booth, which monitors the performers like overseers via a tall onstage staircase.  (It's likely no mistake that no Black character ever goes near this staircase the entire show, much less enters the production booth at the top.) These divisions in class are represented too by the amazing costumes by Samantha C. Jones, which range between ornate flappery gowns and luxe fur coats to beat-up work boots that barely fit in with professional jazz suits, all lit up to dramatically chilling effect by Minjoo Kim's lighting.10/10