[ssba]
Mine Eyes Hath Seen
Reviewed by Deborah Klugman
At Theatre Banshee
Through May 17
RECOMMENDED:
The Civil War was the bloodiest and one of the most tragic episodes in American history. More people lost their lives in battle and to disease in that war than in World War I, World War II and the Vietnam War combined.
Mine Eyes Hath Seen at Theatre Banshee commemorates the 150th anniversary of General Lee’s surrender with a revival of this 2005 production. Narrated by director Sean Branney, who co-compiled the material with partner Leslie Baldwin, it’s a compendium of the writings of journalists, historical figures, soldiers and civilians who tell of their experience on the battlefield and at home. The spoken words are interspersed with songs from the period, culminating with the title hymn, which is movingly sung.
This sort of piece doesn’t contain much surprise; its value is as a reminder of what we already understand – that is, the horror of war – but many of us choose not to think about if we can. Those with a skeletal knowledge of history may be taken aback by the contrast between Lincoln’s Gettysburg speech and his less well-known statements about race, which reflected the stark prejudices of his time. And it’s interesting to listen to some of the Southerners’ sophistic arguments justifying slavery, as they bend the truth to their bias in the same way bigots do today.
The seven performers all do respectable work, though for some there’s a tendency to speechify, to fall into the rhythms of the language and remain there. That never occurs with two standouts among the ensemble: Lucas Dixon, whose every verbal portrait is vibrant and genuine, and Kem Saunders, who possesses thunderous vocal power and who depicts various African- Americans. The most satisfying monologue comes near the end when Saunders recounts with relish the response of an ex-slave to his former master; gainfully employed and with his children enrolled in school, the now proud and free man calculates in monetary terms what’s owed him, then laughingly declines to return to the old homestead.
Theatre Banshee, 3435 W. Magnolia Blvd., Burbank; Fri.-Sat. 8 pm, Sun. 2 pm; through May 17. 818.846.5323, https://www.theatrebanshee.org/rezform.html
