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If America in 2012 was the one we should all want to live in, then you could attend a play dealing with the rampant racial tension of the late 1960s and take comfort in knowing that our country had long since overcome those ignorant and intolerant times. But taking in Monica Bauer’s “My Occasion of Sin”—which deals with racial prejudice and the 1969 riots in her native Omaha, Nebraska—after learning that an African-American teenager named Trayvon Martin had been tragically killed in what appeared to be a racially-motivated act, makes it clear we haven’t yet achieved that utopia.
As Bauer’s play (running until April 15 at Urban Stages on 259 West 30th Street) reminds us, 1969 was not just about the first moon landing, Woodstock, and the Miracle New York Mets. It was about the tumultuous societal changes taking place throughout the country, which was exemplified, if not heightened, through music, whether it was the dissonance of jazz or the anarchy of rock ‘n roll. The Baby Boom Generation was coming of age, and women, gays, and Blacks were demanding equal rights. In many places, like Bauer’s hometown, the expression of these demands often led to violence and in Omaha’s case, a June 1969 race riot after a police officer fatally shot a 14-year-old African-American girl named Vivian Strong, who did nothing wrong except for being in the wrong place at the wrong time—like Trayvon Martin.
“My Occasion of Sin” is staged as two interconnecting dramas—one the scenes between Mary Margaret, a teenage Catholic schoolgirl with a budding love of rock ‘n roll, Luigi Wells, a Black jazz drummer/music teacher (based on the actual musician Luigi Waites), and George and Helen Hollewinski, the Polish middle-class owners of a floundering music store on Omaha’s South side; the other the monologues delivered by Vivian, who serves—literally—as the many voices of Omaha’s poor Black North side (including her mom, her sister, and the 16-year-old budding Black Panther she’s sweet on). Vibrantly played with great versatility by Danielle Thompson (photo, below), Vivian throughout the play expresses her hopes, dreams, and frustrations, while revealing insight into the show’s subplot, which is the growing radicalization of young Blacks in Omaha.
Music is the other major character, serving as the universal language with the potential to bring people together, while also conveying the evolution of the play’s tension, from The Supremes’ cooing “Baby Love” to Dave Brubeck’s cool “Take Five,” to James Brown’s confrontational “Say it Loud, I’m Black and I’m Proud.” Mary Margaret has become enamored with the Beatles and bored with taking accordion lessons from George, who plays the instrument in his rapidly fading polka band. Unbeknownst to George, his wife Helen, who keeps the store’s books, places an ad for someone to teach “the rock and the roll” to Mary and her schoolmates, which she hopes will bring the store back to solvency.
When Luigi Wells shows up in response to the ad, the prim, proper, and prejudiced Helen is surprised that the slick dressing, fast-talking, charming drummer is Black and not the Italian man she thought she would be interviewing for the job. Helen was looking for “someone different,” but Luigi convinces her and George that selling drums and giving drum lessons can transform the store into a cash cow and that he should get a cut of the profits. Mary exults at the thought of being a rock drummer and lobbies for Luigi, George immediately connects with the newcomer over their love of music and being World War II vets, and Helen temporarily suppresses her prejudice for the politics of the pocketbook.
Luigi’s motivation is clear. He’s the owner of the once popular Dreamland Ballroom, two blocks from the projects, where all the great jazz musicians stopped to play as they toured the Midwest. Now he wants to revive the hall and needs money to pay his back taxes or he’ll lose it. The venue’s name serves as a metaphor for Luigi’s dreams and those of the play’s other characters; Mary’s goal to become a great jazz drummer, George’s desire to keep playing music with “the fellas,” Helen’s ambition to become president of the lady’s sodality at the Church, and Vivian’s longing to improve herself and to learn whether or not Luigi truly is her father (her mom once worked at the Ballroom and has always been mum on the subject of Vivian’s dad).
But Luigi’s bond with Mary and George (photo, left) is gradually broken by Helen, who is succumbing to the influence of the fearful and racist Catholic Church ladies, and she wants to start distancing herself and those around her from Luigi. Since Black men really can’t be trusted around white women or around money, Helen reminds both Mary and George that the Bible says “to avoid the sin, avoid the occasion of sin.” (It’s a shame nobody was quoting that line to Trayvon Martin’s killer in Sanford, Florida before he went out on that “neighborhood watch.”) Before long, Mary’s sense of social justice is awakened (she conducts a sit-in at the store and rhythmically bangs her drum sticks while singing “We Shall Overcome” in front of Helen), Helen fires Luigi after witnessing he and Mary exchange an innocuous hug, and Mary steals money from the store to help Luigi. When Helen convinces George that Luigi is the thief, it leads to a confrontation between the men at the Ballroom while the riot is breaking out over the shooting of Vivian the day before at a demonstration. The whole episode is a lesson in how miscommunication, mistrust, ignorance, religious zealotry, and racism can be a toxic brew that often leads to destruction and death.
In addition to Thompson’s wonderful portrayal of Vivian, Royce Johnson and Rosebud Baker (photo, left) give passionate performances as Luigi and Mary, respectively, and their scenes together—especially their conversations about music—convey chemistry and warmth. The scenes between Janice Hall (Helen) and Scott Robertson (George) are not as compelling, but Robertson’s George exudes more energy when interacting with Luigi. Hall holds her own in what is her Off-Broadway acting debut, but could have benefited from more nuanced direction of her character from Urban Stages Artistic Director Francis Hill. Among the production design team, set designer Roman Tatarowicz deserves praise for transforming the venue’s tight stage into both the Dreamland and the music store with minimal movement of props.
Monica Bauer’s script doesn’t offer any new insight into the nature of prejudice and racism and how they can be overcome, but her depiction of the characters avoids easy stereotypes and clichés (as does Hill's direction). And Bauer should be commended, if for nothing else, for giving a face, voice, heart, and soul to Vivian Strong, and for making the “invisible” girl visible. Perhaps one day a playwright will do the same for Trayvon Martin.
After the performance on April 1, there will be a free “talkback” led by National Public Radio host Kurt Andersen.
Photos: Ben Hider
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