The great opera contralto Marian Anderson (Angela Wildflower), has been denied accommodations at the Nassau Inn because of her race. So instead she stays at the home of one of her enthusiastic fans, Professor Albert Einstein (John Leonard Pielmeier).
Ms. Anderson is denied an opportunity to give a concert at Constitution Hall by its owner, the Daughters of the American Revolution, because of her race. So instead she gives a concert at the Lincoln Memorial, broadcast coast-to-coast on radio, and enjoyed by millions.
Dr. Einstein receives unexpected news: there appears to be a way to split the atom, releasing kilotons of destructive energy. He must get to the President, but he can’t reach him directly, since the FBI has determined that he is a dangerous radical because of his support for civil rights.
These three seminal incidents from the first half of the last century are fraught with conflict, tension and high drama. Then why is Deborah Brevoort’s My Lord, What a Night, receiving its world premiere production at the Contemporary American Theater Festival, so soggy? I submit that it is principally because Brevoort stole a page from the Greeks: all of the action occurs offstage; we learn about it as the characters react and plot from the comfort and warmth of Einstein’s office. This gives the convenience of a single set – and a fine set it is, by David Barber – but at the expense of drama.
Thus we have dialogue like this: “Einstein: Here we are at last! Anderson: My Lord, what a night. Einstein: Are you all right, Miss Anderson? Anderson: I’m still shaking. Einstein: It’s no wonder! That philistine at the Nassau Inn behaved like a brute! Turning you away like that and in such a course manner. Anderson: Yes, it was most unpleasant.” And later: “Anderson: It’s so kind of you to invite me to stay here, Professor Einstein. I can’t thank you enough. Einstein: The pleasure is mine! Anderson: I honestly don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t escorted me to the hotel tonight. Einstein: I was afraid I was imposing myself on you a bit too forcefully. Anderson: Oh, not at all!”
This conflict-free, cliché-ridden conversation goes on for about fifteen minutes, by my count, which adequately presents the second problem: in Albert Einstein and Marian Anderson we have two of the iconic figures in American history, and though both are long dead, Brevoort takes extra care not to disturb our memory of them. In this play they do not drink or cuss; they show no human weaknesses; they are not foolish; or prideful; and when they are angry it is only in righteous causes. Anderson, an exceptionally dignified and diplomatic woman, here talks so formally she seems like a character out of a Jane Austin novel. Einstein was a witty man who enjoyed an occasional off-color joke, but he seems preachy here, and the modesty for which he was noted here manifests as a startling self-loathing.
The actors, apparently in compensation, periodically resort to overexpression and large gestures, making the scene even more alienating. I got the sense that I was watching two people who were extremely uncomfortable with each other, desperate to end their conversation and get on to something less dangerous.
Fortunately for us, something more dangerous enters the arena: Abraham Flexner (Larry Paulsen) Einstein’s ostensible boss at Princeton’s Institute for Advanced Study. Flexner, during whose tenure as head of the Institute many Jewish scholars (including Einstein) came to America from Hitler’s Germany, wants Anderson to leave Einstein’s home and stay at the “Colored YMCA”. He is afraid that Einstein’s outspoken advocacy for civil rights – and the possibility that a stay at his house by an unchaperoned African-American woman will give rise to scandal – will threaten funding for the Institute. And worse: threaten Einstein’s life.
The arrival of Flexner and Mary Church Terrell (the excellent Lizan Mitchell, who – at least as made up here – bears a striking resemblance to Terrell) liven things up considerably. Terrell, the first national President of the National Association of Colored Women, is the Yin to Flexner’s Yang. While he urges caution and accommodation, she urges bold confrontation. Both Flexner and Terrell want Anderson to leave Einstein’s home, but for different reasons and destinations. He wants her to go to the Colored YMCA. She wants her to go back to the Nassau Inn, with Einstein and the hoard of reporters who generally follow him, and demand they give her a room there.
But – and you get the sense early – they will do neither, and so the action remains in Einstein’s comfortable quarters, just as, for example, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern never leave the anteroom in Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead. This is true even in the second Act, where the characters resolve the Constitution Hall issue and confront the beginnings of nuclear terror in Einstein’s office.
There are some wonderful moments, the best of which has Flexner explaining to Einstein, in chilling detail, just why he is so willing to accommodate his American patrons (and potential patrons) despite their ignorance, their racism and even their anti-Semitism. Sadly, there are many more moments of high-context dialogue, filler and agreement among characters. Of course, such dialogue may well be true to life. But theater should be better than life.
My Lord, What a Night closes July 28, 2019. Details and tickets
And, surprisingly for such a professionally produced production, there are continuity problems. I will mention a few: In the opening scene, as Einstein and Anderson talk, there is the sound of a rabble of reporters in the background. For no apparent reason, that sound ebbs and then restores itself when the characters talk about reporters. Einstein hides Swiss chocolates behind an object on a shelf in his office because if his housekeeper sees them she will confiscate them on instructions from his children. When Anderson decides to replenish his supply, she puts them on the shelf in plain sight. When Einstein observes how dark it’s getting, the window in the back of him shows bright as day. There are others, but why bother?
On the other hand, the costumes (Therese Bruck) are astonishing. Anderson and Flexner look wonderful – Flexner’s suit in the final scene is to die for – and of the period (1937 and 1939). And Pielmeier as Einstein, wearing a Bruck-designed suit, could singlehandedly bring back the rumpled look.
My Lord, What a Night, by Deborah Brevoot, directed by Ed Herendeen, assisted by Shaun McCracken. Featuring John Leonard Pielmeier, Angela Wildflower, Larry Paulsen and Lizan Mitchell . Scenic design: David Berber . Costume design: Therese Bruck . Lighting design D.M. Wood . Sound design: Victoria Deiorio . Technical director: Kevin Dunckel . Stage manager: Paul Mills Holmes, assisted by Ryan Kane . Production stage manager: Deb Acquavella . Produced by Contemporary American Theater Festival . Reviewed by Tim Treanor.
The post Review: My Lord, What a Night at Contemporary American Theater Festival appeared first on DC Theatre Scene.