Ragtime

It seems we’re in a lull these days. DC theatre, whose brilliant stages I’ve sought to cover and promote, has been faltering to some extent. Signature has been a bright spot in this however, notably lifting my spirits with their fantastic previous production of King of the Yees. So, here we arrive at their big winter musical, the evergreen Ragtime, running now until January. I opted to go into this blind, even if it is a popular musical. All’s I know is that Stephen Flaherty did a bang-up job on Once on this Island, so for this to be as well-known as it is, there’s gotta be something good.

Terrence McNally can be hit or miss for me. His book, adapted from the 1975 novel by E.L. Doctorow, involves a musical chairs of families navigating society in early-20th-century New York: a wealthy white (WASP) suburban family, a middle-class Black family from Harlem, and a poor, Jewish father-daughter-duo who recently emigrated from Latvia. The themes of the book center around racial dynamics — as one can guess— and the changing nature of societal attitudes around them, from the inspirations of characters such as Booker T. Washington and Emma Goldman. Yes, a-la Forrest Gump, McNally’s book takes facsimile characters (see: stereotypes) and juxtaposes them with real-world events and people. Here’s something though: I hated Forrest Gump. Much as that film is a gushy clip show made for nostalgic boomers, I presume this is the same thing made for the generation before them. The families in the center of the action are largely obtuse and unrealized at best (except Tateh and his daughter, though imperfect, which we’ll get to) and downright cliched at worst. The Black family, represented by the sharp and optimistic Sarah and Coalhouse, not only [SPOILER] do not survive the play but are also, in my humble opinion, are reduced to the stereotype of savagery. When trauma befalls Coalhouse, he — an educated Black man, mind you — takes it upon himself to do the “avenging” (for lack of a spoiler-free word). I’m sorry, and maybe this is my 2023 brain talking, but it is not believable what-so-ever that a Black man, especially one with the notoriety he has in the book, could even think about committing a crime half as brash as what he does without being lynched instantly. (People have been for much, much less.) His Act II-opening announcement that he’s [SPOILER] committed several murders and arson2/10 and yet sees his survival nearly to the very end is some truly incredible plot armor (I’m only going to briefly mention Sarah, whose purpose it seems was to have his baby and die; can we stop doing this? I want whole Black families). The white family, all known only by their family titles of Mother, etc, seem to have no real purpose within the events themselves. Their only action of consequence is delivered at the book’s end when the Father convinces Coalhouse to abandon his plight. The Mother’s Brother has promise, especially as the book tantalizingly puts him in close proximity to revolutionary leaders. Instead, he is reduced to a hotheaded, violent deject, largely dormant through Act II but nearly ready to blow up a library (at least by the end, he does go and do something historically interesting). The funniest part of this family is The Little Boy, who apparently has psychic, warg-like powers to see into the future, and repeatedly yells out foreshadows to World War I; this is never seriously addressed. Harry Houdini, whose presence is also for reasons unknown, does make mention of it in the final lines, but this child’s mystical soothsaying abilities is such a weird plot device that holds no meaning that nevertheless asks you to take it seriously.

It’s hard to pick out standout performances from an ensemble like this. An ensemble which is diverse in presence, energy, charisma, and talent, and overall a joy to watch, especially the leads. Nkrumah Gatling stuns as Coalhouse, and much gripe as I have with the character, he delivers the range and sophisticated personality I would expect, and is matched by the tragic empathy of Awa Sal Secka as Sarah. (Special note to Sarah’s Friend, Jordyn Taylor, who blew me away with her vocals at end of Act I). Teal Wicks (Mother) and Bobby Smith (Tateh) are perfect compliments, making their eventual conjunction all the more satisfying.9/10

Try not to feel dwarfed by Lee Savage’s larger-than-life iron arches, reminiscent of New York’s old Penn Station (may she rest in peace), it lit up by Tyler Micoleau’s tungsten illuminations. It’s imposing stature frames the grade-separated orchestra (Jon Kalbfleisch really knocks it out, by the way). On the audience level, the stage is flanked by models of objects from the era, such as old radios and a model of the New Rochelle house. While there are seldom any major set pieces of note, besides the odd Model T and ragtime piano, Matthew Gardiner directs the action so well you hardly notice it; especially if you’re distracted by Erik Teague’s gorgeously baroque costuming.9/10

Program art is broody and mystic, featuring a shrouded statue of liberty imposed atop a series of “RAGTIME”s that collectively make up a US flag in distress positioning. That last bit is the subtle cue that I like, that differs from the show’s usual marketing, which is several silhouettes of people dancing with a sunrise gradient background. Signature’s actually creates urgency, some sort of uncomfortability in not knowing what this country would mean for you; a common theme in the show. As a bonus, the programs include a broadsheet fin-de-siecle newspaper with several blurbs and fake ads about the characters of the show, which is a tremendously great touch and adds so much to the in-theatre worldbuilding. Pre-show staging is an imposing series of iron arches, reminiscent of the old Penn Station (may she rest in peace), with a banner reading “E Pluribus Unum” across the upper level with the orchestra. I usually knock Sig about this sort of thing, but they’ve kinda been on it recently. Kudos!10/10