Carolyn Ratteray Photo credit: Boston Court Production Pasadena
Reviewed by Amanda L. Andrei
The Wallis Annenberg Center for the Performing Arts
Through January 28
RECOMMENDED
The Black Mama’s purse defies physics. It puzzles theologians. Its pliability makes it the perfect container for tissues, band-aids, snacks, hair bands, bracelets — all the flotsam and jetsam of life — but also laughter, wonder, rage, grief and shame. In the mythic world of Both And… (A Play about Laughing While Black), the Black Mama’s purse stretches so far that it contains not only necessities and memories, but the keys to ancestral healing.
In this one-woman show written and performed by Carolyn Ratteray, the exuberant actress twirls and transforms between multiple characters, namely Teayanna, a queer black woman reckoning with her mother’s imminent death, and a trickster clown, a god of laughter who tucked themselves away during the brutal Middle Passage and emerges to assist Teayanna’s mother to the afterlife. Director Andi Chapman keeps Teayanna bouncing and ricocheting across the stage, filling it with liveliness and optimism despite the barrage of hospital visits, societal violence, parental regrets and approaching death.
Because, in this precious, pliable space, death is more than grief. As Teayanna accompanies her mother to the cusp of the afterlife, she sees her other ancestors. “Never seen a sea of so much me,” Ratteray breathes with wonder. And when she morphs into the tiny red-nosed god of laughter (adeptly choreographed by Indira Tyler and clown consulted by Michelle Matlock), her Minionsesque squeaks and cartoony attempts to help Teayanna’s mother pass to the other side literally invite the audience to guffaw and play along with her. Rattery’s clowning and earnestness extend bereavement beyond melancholia into the depths of enchantment.
The playfulness is enhanced by Ed Haynes, Jr.’s clever set and Kevin Williams’ magnified props. Oversized tubes of Neosporin and Chiclets emphasize the shapeshifting nature of the trickster god, and the dual altars with their flickering candles add a grounded solemnity. Huge rope riggings suggest not only the dark histories of nooses and slavery ship cordage, but also the loosened and pulled threads of an ancient purse, worn and well-used from the pressures of caretaking.
It’s moments of quiet that highlight the healing power of laughter. As fun, amusing, and burning as Teayanna’s visions are, there are times when urgency overtakes potential moments of silence. It’s in the non-verbal, in-between spaces where integration and processing can happen. Sometimes these spaces are rushed or cut short in the need to describe more. Likewise, the penultimate scene of supernatural proportion becomes crowded with spa-like meditative music and character sound effects, crowding Ratteray’s sincere witnessing of the numinous.
As the stories rush forth, Ratteray shines when she settles into the stillness, living in the presence of grief and loss which gives way to her next antics of wonder and delight. It’s when the long-suffering purse is emptied and honored that life can continue, ready for the future. Laughter becomes more than an antidote. It becomes a treasure.
The Wallis Annenberg Center for the Performing Arts. 9390 N. Santa Monica Blvd. Beverly Hills. Tues.-Sat., 8 pm, Sat.-Sun., 2 pm, Sun., 7:30 pm. dark Sun. Jan. 28, 7:30 pm; thru Jan. 28. https://thewallis.org/show-details/both-and-a-play-about-laughing-while-black?utm_source=wordfly&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=Weekly-1%2F8%2F24&utm_content=version_A Running time: approximately 90 minutes with no intermission.
