Stage Review: Tension pulses through Kuntu's 'The Separation of Blood'
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In "The Separation of Blood," now in its world premiere at Pitt's Kuntu Rep, playwright Bridgette Wimberly attempts the nearly impossible: to make theater out of science. This usually results in something less like drama than a lecture-demonstration, a rare exception such as Michael Frayn's "Copenhagen" simply proving the rule.
Where: Kuntu Repertory Theatre at Alumni Hall, 4227 Fifth Ave., OaklandWhen: Through June 2; Thurs.-Sat. 8 p.m.; Sun. 4 p.m.; also 1 p.m. May 26 and 11 a.m. May 31.Tickets: $11-$20; discounts; 412-624-7298.
Further, Wimberly's approach is biographical, which puts "The Separation of Blood" in another, only slightly less star-crossed category, that of the bio-play. So complete success would be a miracle -- it's a fine achievement that her result is as artful and interesting as it is.
This is partly due to the intrinsic interest of her biographical subject, Dr. Charles Drew (1904-50), an African American credited with the development of blood separation, resulting in the plasma that saved many battlefield lives in World War II. He went on to organize the first civilian blood bank and pioneer the training of black surgeons, all in a very short lifetime and in the face of strident racist opposition.
But Wimberly's success is also due to her creation of a compelling structure that frames Drew's life within his final act, a long nighttime drive southward in a Buick Roadmaster from his home in Washington to a small town in North Carolina to try to save a patient's life. As Drew and a colleague drive (historically, there were four black doctors, not two), they reminisce about their achievements and challenges. At times this information is awkwardly introduced, but often it arises naturally out of the moment.
Meanwhile, there are flashbacks to Drew's family life. The dramatic tension of the drive grows as a car (Death?) remains hot on their trail, and Wimberly artfully scrambles time, moving backward and forward, inching toward the end.
That tension is an achievement, because we know the end: Drew is famous among black Americans for dying as a result of a car crash and being denied by a racist hospital the very blood transfusion that his science had made possible. Wimberly's research brands this a myth -- actually, he did receive emergency hospital care, albeit unsuccessful. But so strong is the myth that the opening-night audience made it clear in the talk-back that they had a hard time accepting her revelation.
Historically, that myth helped fire the subsequent civil rights revolution. And, of course, the myth has truth: Black victims did frequently die because hospitals refused to care for them or did so in ramshackle basement facilities, while black doctors were denied proper facilities.
Also carrying metaphoric weight is blood itself. On a postwar trip to Europe, Drew found black soldiers whose treatment was compromised because blood banks were segregated, so hysterically superstitious was white America about the "racial purity" of blood. Another metaphor, perhaps too obviously imposed, involves a chess game with its white and black pieces and ticking clock.
The episodes of Drew's family life, although they suffer from something like hero worship, have a warm believability founded in his loving relationship with his admirable wife. That Wimberly makes the biography interesting is the more remarkable because Drew was apparently such an undramatically good, stable man.
Playing this paragon with the charisma and inner drive that make him interesting is Art Terry. Matching him as his beautiful wife is Anji Corley, giving life to the small arguments and reconciliations that dramatize Drew's humanity.
Leslie Howard (and at some performances, Billy Jackson) plays Drew's journeying colleague. He has to convey much of the expository science and does so without too many stumbles. In another series of flashbacks that feel obviously manipulative, Kevin Brown plays Drew's crusty father, pushing him to succeed.
The director is Woodie King Jr. of New York's New Federal Theatre, one of the true elders of American theater. His production makes good use of projections, sound and lights. Moreover, it honors the poetry Wimberly has built into the script, giving a grace and uplift to this reminder of the important role played by what W.E.B. DuBois called the educated "talented tenth" of black America.
"The Separation of Blood" is part of Kuntu's season-long focus on black health issues and is related to the Healthy Black Family Project at the Pitt Graduate School of Public Health -- further evidence that theater can promote social utility, and vice versa.
First Published May 22, 2007 7:22 pm
