Passing Change: A Sign of the Times
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| A mixture of musical
styles (though mostly rock), the piece plays like one long, elegant song.
Narrated by Stew and accompanied by a three-person band (including
Rodewald on the bass and vocals) and an acting ensemble of six talented
brown actors, the musical recounts the trials and tribulations of Youth, a
character representing Stew’s younger, unsophisticated, unfettered self of
over twenty years ago. A naïve, determined, upper-class black man, Youth struggles to find the “Real” of his identity by trekking from a comfortable, stifling life in L.A. to the free-spirited, artistic environs of Amsterdam and Berlin, as he meaningfully interacts with his home-base black community, devoted mother, and a dearth of Europeans. Ultimately, they all help him jostle the struggle to find his sense of self and of blackness onto the stage. So how does such a musical incite and invite societal change? First and foremost, the production signifies change on the professional horizon. The positive merits of the show are unarguably impeccable. Stew’s and Rodewald’s material audaciously uses wit and humor to explore a potentially cerebral theme as the entire cast strives for excellence in the service of a unique story. More rock-and-roll concert than musical, Passing Strange provides audiences with an almost anti-Broadway experience not seen since the debut of Rent nearly twelve years ago. In a town that more than accommodates the Great White Way (originally named for its bright, white lights but having since taken on the de facto connotation of an obvious racial tendency), this piece employs a gifted cast of color who refreshingly plays fully developed characters of all backgrounds. Developed at Joe’s Pub and previously produced at both Berkeley Rep and the Public Theater in NYC, the play affords these theater artists a professional experience that is more than an exercise in color blinded casting. The Real of this situation is that these artists can move their careers forward in ways not routinely available to them outside of a regional Shakespeare festival. But the more profound change the musical simultaneously signifies and creates is in the search for self-identification. In a time when we could very well elect a black president accused of not being “black enough,” this musical calls to mind the very questions we all ask ourselves and each other about the significance and nuances that comprise identity with regard to race, class, sex, and gender. Those familiar with Lacanian theory understand the vortex into which the interpretation of a musical about the Real can propel. But the account resists this thrust by focusing the search on Youth’s experiences of what it means to pass. For most people of color and/or ethnically diverse backgrounds in the United States, passing is a way of life, an experience synonymous with making it in the white (or mainstream) world. Stew’s play explores the inverted process of what he describes as, “black folks passing for black folks.” The most important lesson the musical teaches, then, is that despite our collective desire to move past identity constructs as markers of oppression, they are the reality we are supporting and living out. Take for instance the moment of humorous, poignant social commentary when Youth creates a teenage punk band in order to celebrate his inner angst and love for rock music in songs like “Sole Brother,” in which he shouts, “I’m at war with ghetto norms!” As an artist who lives the distinctly American identity construct of being Latina, I can more than relate to this condition. But as I sat in the audience, I found myself more than relating and instead exploring my own relationship to, and participation in, the ritual of passing. No matter how politically incorrect it is, Stew and Rodewald’s piece puts the onus of psychological oppression on those very oppressed, simultaneously burdening and blessing them (us) with the power to make change. The genius of this conceit is best seen when Stew and Youth interact on stage, bringing to life the illusory act of literally looking at one’s self. Stew resolutely tells Youth that he wants more than the Real – a sense of meaning and belonging, those ostensibly elusive states of being that American people of all colors perpetually seek. This message is continuously planted in profound assertions throughout the piece, right in the places following an intense musical number, when one simply wants to clap or breathe or recollect and instead is more deeply enticed into its world. It is the kind of experience that does not let go until one is changed. So despite the overtly hackneyed nature of the medium, musicals do charge the soul in the places our everyday lives obscure and suppress. And when a musical like this comes along, full of insight and talent, you pay attention to its message and know that something meaningful in our society will follow and is already underway for such a production to exist. Because regardless of what happens this November, it is clear that those of us on the ground are changing and are eagerly committed to even more change. Stories and story tellers are coming out from under their intellectual prisons and not only exposing histories of the past, but how they intend to create the present and inspire the future. There is a shift in power and god willing, it is not a passing phase. In the end, the real change Passing Strange indicates is a gradual, but sincere understanding that no matter how many identities people like Stew perform or they (we) pass for, in order to be any kind of real, there must always be an audience. |
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Rene: Congratulations Editha, great writing. People definitely enjoy your articles.
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