Tracy “Symphony” Hall and Koli Tengella. Photo courtesy Strand Theater Company
“The worst form of inequality is to try to make unequal things equal”.
– Aristotle
“Why you wanna fly, Blackbird? You ain’t never gonna fly”.
– Nina Simone
A world premiere choreopoem, written and directed by Tracy “Symphony” Hall, hits the Strand Theater stage this month. “Framing My America” is a thought-provoking and engaging assemblage of short scenes and monologues, largely scripted, but also collaboratively devised by Hall and her cast-mates.
“Framing My America” might easily have been titled “Framing My Baltimore.” Its stories are immediate and personal, yet, they’re universal.
A spartan set, by designer Amy Rhodes, greets the audience as they enter. It features an ingenious use of multiple frames to establish composition. The largest defines an elevated upstage box, in which Hall spends a good deal of time, somehow observant and detached at the same time. Her presence in that space has a Whistler’s Mother feeling to it. The visual theme of frames is carried outward from the stage, through a wonderful series of artworks on display by Baltimore artist, Mandela Brown. Drawn from his Shakra collections, these contemporary pieces remind one of Magritte, without sinking to pastiche. Their presence is a unifying influence on the space, and help to create just the right atmosphere for the evening’s performance.
A major star of the show is its sound design by Christen Cromwell. Her soundtrack is a clever mishmash of Golden Age television sounds and nods to figures as diverse as Gil Scott Heron and Vincent Price. It serves the whole, yet also stands front and center at times. Sabrina Cephas’ costumes are intriguing. In dressing the ensemble, some are minimalistic and others, realistic. Hall’s looks, by contrast, run the gamut from Revolutionary War period to the gardenia in Billie Holiday’s hair. Lighting is by Rhodes, and does a very good job in the tight space where the lack of wings and upstage depth preclude the use of much more than front-lighting.
“Framing My America” is a short piece. This is a plus, as the material that’s explored within is intense and challenging at times. The structure highlights Hall as a kind of ringleader, connecting and introducing segments which are performed by the rest of her five-member ensemble. In the first act, Hall immediately confronts, calling for “reparations right now in this space.” It’s time for teaching, too. “Enter, class” she beckons, and the first scene begins. In it, a Black student named Malcolm (Ronald K Malone) and his white teacher (Alanna Kiewe) grapple with confrontation and boundaries. This segues to a scene featuring Hall, as a pro-life protester, confronting Kiewe, as an abortion clinic patient escort. Kiewe’s monologue here is deeply personal, drawn from the actor’s own experiences. In it, she sticks a comedic landing on “the Korean Catholic church across the street [from the clinic] silently judging us with their candles,” and otherwise delivers a gut punch. Then, Hall returns for a monologue, followed by another scene by Kiewe and Malone. Here, Kiewe is an Army sergeant and Malone is under arrest for robbery. The sergeant makes an offer. The accused quotes Aristotle. A moral tussle ensues, and a choice is inevitably made. Another direct address from Hall closes a twenty-minute first act.
The longer second act opens with an evocative movement piece built upon Nina Simone’s “Blackbird.” Choreographed and performed by Kristin Michelle Young, the piece is supported by a singing from Hall, who spends the rest of the evening in Billie Holiday mode. Thankfully, she stops short of outright impersonation. Hall’s rich and resonant vocal delivery is much closer to Sarah Vaughan’s sound. She follows Young’s dance with a gorgeous “Willow Weep for Me,” then a mischievous story about her church-loving grandmother. Young then returns to deliver the first half of a powerful soliloquy about her upbringing. This section describes her origins in the “good part” of Edmonson Avenue and early parochial schooling which made her an “Oreo” by middle school. Billie then returns, as Hall sings “Good Morning, Heartache.” Back for the rest of her story, Young talks of further matriculation through the Baltimore School for the Arts and Morgan State University. There’s a melancholy twist, and a hope-filled ending to her journey. Like Kiewe’s Act 1 piece, Young’s personal history served as the basis for her monologue.
A rousing 20 minutes of material delivered by Koli Tengella closes the show. In it, he covers a range of topics from the evils of Caucasian viticulture to the painful legacies of institutionalized racism. Tengella slaloms between heart-wrenching truth and comic relief here, questioning the existence of a higher power as thoughtfully and emotionally as he depicts the history of hip-hop. Finally, Hall closes the performance speaking of freedom: “It is better to be locked up in a world of freedom than to be free in a world of bondage,” she asserts, leading into a James Brown curtain call.
“Framing My America” might easily have been titled “Framing My Baltimore.” Its stories are immediate and personal, yet, they’re universal.
Running Time: 77 minutes including one intermission.
Advisory: Profanity, explorations of racism.
“Framing My America” runs through October 30th, 2022 at Strand Theater Company, 5426 Harford Road, Baltimore, MD 21214. For more information and tickets, go online. Patrons must provide proof of vaccination, and are required to remain masked.
