Blues for an Alabama Sky
1930s Harlem is nothing if not glitzy, glamourous, and effervescent— all thick veneers disguising the difficulties of the Great Depression. This is the historical backdrop in which Pearl Cleage’s Blues for an Alabama Sky takes place. And in this National Theatre revival, directed by Lynette Linton, the Harlem Renaissance truly comes to life with the help of a breathtaking costume and set design by Frankie Bradshaw and lively musical interludes courtesy of Composer Benjamin Kwasi Burrell. Are these dazzling design features, however, serving to illuminate the world of the play, or are they simply covering up some of the pitfalls of the original text?
Upon taking my seat in the Lyttelton, there was an audible “wow.” Frankie Bradshaw’s set design immediately draws you into the world: classic New York City fire escapes, red brick buildings, shoebox-sized apartments— all of these bring me back to my memories of New York. Simple touches- a 1920s telephone on the wall, a hanging portrait of Josephine Baker, a hand-cranked sewing machine- draw us further into the time period. Before the curtain even goes up, this world’s vivaciousness meets us head-on.
Once the play begins, the actors come in with all guns blazing. In their performances as Angel, Delia, Guy, and Dr. Sam respectively, Helena Pipe, Ronke Adekoluejo, Giles Terera, and Sule Rimi instantly matched the energy of the era and setting. Giles Terera, in particular, stole the show as Guy. His physical choices and comedic timing brushed away any cliche that might have been written into the character, a neighbourly, gay costume designer. At times, however, some choices made by certain actors threatened to create something that was adorned. One standout moment occurs when Angel meets Leland Cunningham (Osy Ikhile), a visitor from Alabama. “Hot out there?” she asks, while nearly flitting her eyelashes as if she were a cartoon character. Also distracting was the occasional musical number that seemed out of place when put next to Cleage’s text (it’s a hardcore “play” play, in my opinion). Moments like these, coupled with Linton’s swift direction (in which hardly any time is wasted) and Benjamin Kwasi Burrell’s jaunty, rhythmic transitions, are perhaps smoke and mirrors to cover up what is missing in Cleage’s original text.
I should clarify that there isn’t really anything lacking in Cleage’s text. As a matter of fact, this production would be quite interesting to stage in the US today. It’s a play about the material circumstances of Black women during a time of economic upheaval. It’s a play about women’s health, the right to an abortion, and the right to family planning. All of these are issues that are (rather unfortunately) recurring. Angel’s decision at the end of the play (no spoilers here!) just barely touches upon the nuances of abortion and the nature of making such a decision, when considering all the many external factors that must be taken into account. These issues, however, come much too late in the plot for the audience to consider them further after the curtain goes down.
After the curtain goes down, I find myself in a state of deja vu. And I’m quite surprised to discover, after the fact, that this text was written by Cleage in 1995. The focus on intersectional feminist issues certainly makes sense considering that year, but the plot itself almost seems as if Arthur Miller or Tennessee Williams could have written it. A traditional plot with some prescient themes. But do those themes shine in the way they should, or is the overly-adorned acting and occasional musical number distracting from them?
Blues for an Alabama Sky is on at the National Theatre until 5 November 2022.
