Commemorating the birthdays of figures who helped shape the destiny of the nation is not something we do well. After naming buildings, byways and bridges for them, remembrance devolves into speech making and, in the case of Martin Luther King Jr., concerts. Both are acceptable, even laudatory and enjoyable. But they suffer from a predictable sameness.
Denise La Grassa’s one woman show, The Blues Ain’t a Color, escapes the conventional and brings a unique outlook to the state of race relations in the country; 50 years after Dr. King’s assassination. Originally performed in 2014, the piece ambitiously encompasses a broad swath of black culture with La Grassa portraying an array of characters; both black and white. This is a daring gamble for a non-black actress. The idioms and intonations of informal black speech can make for a slippery slope and when it’s not quite right; it’s wrongness can sound calamitous.
Depicting both a black mother, Davina, and her daughter Bethany; La Grassa’s impersonations teeter frighteningly close to parody. Her purpose of exposing hard realities redeemed the portrayals and bolstered the show’s artistic relevance. The Blues Ain’t a Color is an assessment of where the United States stands five decades after the civil rights era ended. To no one’s surprise, considerably more progress has to be made before we’re issued a passing grade. In a sense, La Grassa’s piece is a tally of our failures.
Projecting dramatic archival footage, intriguing personal commentary and colorful contemporary paintings from the late artist, Maria Kern on the wall behind her performance space, she employed dynamic elements to add flow and substance to the work. The footage and the commentary were key in grounding the performance’s purpose and provide graphic reminders of why King and thousands of others defied the status quo to demand equal rights be codified in law.
Live performance consumes most of the hour-long plus show that’s lightly sprinkled with levity to offset the weight of her message’s gravity. Satirizing the petty obsessions of the super-rich, she even takes on the role of Elizabeth III, an overly pampered dog who gets facials, goes to the hair dresser and eats foie gras. Here, as when she skewers the vapid pretentiousness of a bank vice president, her comedic jabs work to heighten the absurdity of economic and racial isolation.
An accomplished vocalist, La Grassa weaves original songs throughout The Blues Ain’t a Color to bolster her narrative and is ably accompanied by John Kregor on guitar and Jon Small on bass.
There must be something soldered into our DNA that makes us look to the young for hope in the future. If that’s true, you’d be hard pressed to find better harbingers then the “kids from Western Avenue Community Center”. Singing Tiny Stars of Peace in the one of the show’s final video clips, their voices, faces and natural exuberance made you believe in the possibility of the impossible.
The Blues Ain’t a Color: A Conversation About Race
January 14, 2018
Elastic Arts
3429 W. Diversey Ave., #208
Chicago, IL 60647
773-772-3616
