Colors Clash in Albee's 'Bessie'

THE DEATH OF BESSIE SMITH

by Edward Albee

At Peabody House Theater, Somerville

Through Oct. 10

Black is black and white is white, and never the twain shall meet. In a period of what most Americans deem racial healing. director Brett Milanowski of the small, professional Peabody House Theater in Sommerville has chosen to mount The Death of Bessie Smith to punctuate our healing with a question mark. Despite the good intentions of the cast and some genuine moments of radiant acting, The Death of Bessie Smith fails in its appointed role as wakeup call to the insidious prejudice which still permeates our society. The play may not accomplish precisely what the director has set out to do, but it certainly possesses a myriad of redeeming qualities.

There is an immediacy of action in the intimate space of the Peabody black box. Even in October the air is warm, stagnant and smells of cedar. Lighting director Mara Fishman conjures up the shadow of a slow-turning fan that cuts the oppressive heat of the show's Memphis setting. Albee intertwines two seemingly unrelated plots: One plot perceives a hospital staff as microcosmic to the discussion of racism; the other tells the story of the singer Bessie Smith. The two collide only in the end, when Bessie's companion Jack crashes and Bessie dies. Her death is a result of inattention by two hospitals which turn the man away because of his color.

One becomes aquatinted with the play's governing force from the outset in the form of Bessie Smith's spirit, who croons the blues from behind an ephemeral scrim which effectively separates the realms of action. Casting a huge black shadow on the white of the gauzy scrim, she is a strong symbol of guilt hovering as an angel over a white world, and she is central to any success this show finds in its ability to condemn. Bessie's soulful vocal chords are those of Boston veteran actress Michelle Dowd, whose blues tunes are harmoniously accompanied by a talented on-stage guitarist, Lance Vallis.

The singer's 1937 death is peripheral to the main plot which centers around a bigoted white nurse (Marie Larkin), her "liberal-thinking" doctor boyfriend (Gavin Barbour) and the hospital's black orderly (Gut Bushfan). In an attempt to maintain universality, the characters are nameless, and yet they are too textured to be archetypal. The nurse wields as much authority as she can, threatening to have both the orderly--who is more educated than she--as well as the doctor who is always standing up for "them nigger," fired.

Marie Larkin carries off the role with an admirable intensity, if not a consistent accent. There are too many marbles rolling around in her mouth to achieve the flat twang of a Tennessean, and instead she sounds a bit too close to a Mississippi sophisticate than the product of Appalachian inbreeding. Precisely because she isn't "dumbed-down" enough for the part, she achieves an entirely different element from the character: cold calculation. Her words are placed with precision, whether it is to tear down "the nigger" or the doctor.

Guy Bushfan does an adequate job of orderly and for the most part caters to her every whim because his job depends on it. His lack of insurrection entrenches him in the picture of the status quo. It is the intern doctor who attempts to challenge the nurse in her ideology, and he makes the observation which is the crux of the play accusing, "The pillars of your house are blistered and peeling."

When Bessie's companion Jack (Keith Mascoll)enters the scene desperately seeking medicalattention, he is turned away by the nearesthospital because he is black. His appearance atthe hospital, where the main action is staged,adds a new fold to the already existing racialtension. The white doctor and orderly risk theirjobs to help, symbolically with blood on theirhands. The doctor asks, "Did you know when youbrought her here that she was dead?" The ensuingmonologue is badly handled. Indeed Mascoll is theweakest of the cast's links. From beginning to endhe is inconsistent with focal points and oftenspeaks in an unnaturally high register. In factthe one area where he maintains consistency is inhis shellacked and overacted presentation oflines.

In lesser degrees the entire productionwrestles with this problem. Not all of it can beattributed to the production, as Albee providessome extended metaphors and angry language whichalienate the audience. The effect is political.Instead of feeling moved closed to tears by Jack'srejection from the white hospital, the hyperboleof emotion and lack of subtly in messagethroughout desensitizes the viewer. While socialinjustice appeals to our intellectualsensibilities, wounded humanity tears at ourhearts.

In a panel discussion of the show following itsperformance, the director aNd several actors takeup the issue of the script's resilience. They hopethat The Death of Bessie Smith will not becordanted off into the traditional box of racialissues. However the interaction with audiencemembers quickly digressed into an actor's personalaccounts of racism and how his mother was affectedby them in her childhood. This works against whatthey are attempting to accomplish and proves asdoes the play that the opposite is true. We havemade progress since 1937, and more than condemningthe residual racism which exists today, theoutrages in this play underscore the achievementsthat the black and white communities have made inbecoming one. Perhaps what it does, despite someperformative weakness, is prove that the paint onthe pillars has not merely "blistered and peeled;"the pillars themselves have toppled

When Bessie's companion Jack (Keith Mascoll)enters the scene desperately seeking medicalattention, he is turned away by the nearesthospital because he is black. His appearance atthe hospital, where the main action is staged,adds a new fold to the already existing racialtension. The white doctor and orderly risk theirjobs to help, symbolically with blood on theirhands. The doctor asks, "Did you know when youbrought her here that she was dead?" The ensuingmonologue is badly handled. Indeed Mascoll is theweakest of the cast's links. From beginning to endhe is inconsistent with focal points and oftenspeaks in an unnaturally high register. In factthe one area where he maintains consistency is inhis shellacked and overacted presentation oflines.

In lesser degrees the entire productionwrestles with this problem. Not all of it can beattributed to the production, as Albee providessome extended metaphors and angry language whichalienate the audience. The effect is political.Instead of feeling moved closed to tears by Jack'srejection from the white hospital, the hyperboleof emotion and lack of subtly in messagethroughout desensitizes the viewer. While socialinjustice appeals to our intellectualsensibilities, wounded humanity tears at ourhearts.

In a panel discussion of the show following itsperformance, the director aNd several actors takeup the issue of the script's resilience. They hopethat The Death of Bessie Smith will not becordanted off into the traditional box of racialissues. However the interaction with audiencemembers quickly digressed into an actor's personalaccounts of racism and how his mother was affectedby them in her childhood. This works against whatthey are attempting to accomplish and proves asdoes the play that the opposite is true. We havemade progress since 1937, and more than condemningthe residual racism which exists today, theoutrages in this play underscore the achievementsthat the black and white communities have made inbecoming one. Perhaps what it does, despite someperformative weakness, is prove that the paint onthe pillars has not merely "blistered and peeled;"the pillars themselves have toppled