Family Ties

The Piano Lesson

Written by August Wilson

Directed by Lloyd Richards

At the Huntington Theatre

Through January 31

I N THE Piano Lesson, play-wright August Wilson once again explores the rich dramatic territory of family resentment, memory and loss. It is a moving, haunted drama that travels from sadness to comedy with deftness and elegance. From a solid first act to a second act which approaches genius, Wilson combines a dazzling lyricism with a world-weary awareness of the unfair lot of Blacks in America--the same combination that won him a Pulitzer Prize as well as a Tony for his last outing, 1987's Fences.

The Huntington production is staged intelligently and sensitively by Wilson's longtime collaborator, Yale Repertory Director Lloyd Richards. The Piano Lesson, however, lacks cohesion. Wilson's material, as rich and compelling as it is, is too far-flung and perhaps too ambitious.

The play is set in post-Depression Pittsburgh. When gentle Doaker Charles's (Carl Gordon) nephew Boy Willie (Charles S. Dutton) comes to visit, the youngster wreaks havoc on the calm home Doaker shares with his widowed niece Berneice (Starletta Dupois) and Berneice's daughter Maretha (Jaye Skinner). Dupois plays Berneice with unswerving, impressive ferocity despite the fact that Wilson tends to give all of the best moments to Boy Willie.

DUTTON'S ENTRANCE at the beginning of Act 1 is vigorous and spectacular, and his energy never flags. Boy Willie and Berneice soon embark on a bitter struggle over a family heirloom, an ornately carved piano that dominates the sitting room of Doaker's simple house. The piano was carved by their great-grandfather and was traded for their great-grandmother during slavery days.

From the very first, Boy Wille keeps at Berneice. He wants to sell "his half" of the piano to buy some land, since "land's the only thing God ain't making more of." But Berneice wants to cling to her family heritage and never to forget the struggles that came along with the piano. As brother and sister struggle over the piano, Wilson brings out the conflict between wanting to remember old grudges and assimilating with whites, who are "hard to figure out sometimes."

Dutton is a sharp contrast not only to Berneice's steadiness but also to the quietness of Carl Gordon's performance as Doaker. The character that makes the best foil for Boy Wille's out-there exuberance is his handsome friend Lymon, played with a funny mix of innocence and debonair grace by Rocky Carroll.

THE PLAY'S central conflicts--between family members and between clinging to the past or moving on--are time-less. Wilson's work is suffused not only with a sense of the struggle of Blacks in America but also with a sense of the deep, haunting nature of family resentments. Wilson's outlook is reminiscent of Tennessee Williams. Unfortunately, he also shares Williams' flair for excess. No one in this play ever says one word where 10 or 12 will do.

This proclivity towards the effusive is Wilson's biggest problem and it culminates in an illconceived and startling ending. The ghosts which haunt the past of the characters in The Piano Lesson literally come to life in a hocus-pocus scene which is badly out of step with the simple poetry of the production. Wilson seems to believe so fiercely in the powers of imagination that he is ultimately trapped by them. He's a visionary, poetic playwright and at times his vision seems to over-whelm him.

But The Piano Lesson remains for the most part rewarding, brilliant stuff. It shows, as Fences showed, that Wilson is an extraordinary, unique voice in contemporary American theatre. What the play lacks, however, is a sense of the limits of its expansive beauty. You won't forget Lesson, but you may not be able believe it either.