| Black Meets White |
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| By Lawrence Goodman | ||||
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Invisible Man, by Ralph Ellison, adapted for the stage by Oren Jacoby ’77 (Huntington Theatre Company, through February 3).
Astrid Reiken
The Chicago Tribune praised Invisible Man as a "must-see dramatic achievement." It's now in Boston.
More than two decades later, Jacoby approached one of the executors of the novelist’s estate—Ellison died in 1994—and pitched the idea of adapting Invisible Man for the stage. “He said, ‘Go for it,’” Jacoby recalls. “‘If you do a good job, we’ll support you to go forward.’” Last January, the play premiered in Chicago to rave reviews. The Chicago Tribune called it “a remarkable, 205-minute, must-see, three-act dramatic achievement.” Invisible Man then moved on to Washington, D.C., and in January it opened at the Huntington Theatre Company in Boston. “It’s a three-hour epic,” says Peter DuBois ’97 AM, the Huntington’s artistic director, “so I really responded to the ambition of the piece. The telling of his story is incredibly visceral.” Invisible Man is the first-person narration of the plight of an unnamed African American who moves from the South to Harlem, where he lives, invisibly, in a manhole. Jacoby sees the novel as the narrator’s internal debate over whether to stay invisible or reenter American society, which has discriminated against and marginalized him for his entire life. Drawing from the rhythms of jazz, the book moves between naturalism and expressionism. “I was really struck by its theatrical possibilities,” Jacoby says. “The language in the book is a fabulous combination of poetry and vernacular dialogue.”
Courtesy Studio Theatre
"What is a nice white boy doing with this play?" Jacoby Asks.
Jacoby, who is white, grew up in New York City. His decision to adapt a seminal work of African American literature naturally raises the question, as Jacoby puts it: “What is a nice white boy doing with this play?” Jacoby used only Ellison’s words in his adaptation, not adding a single line of his own dialogue. He also drew inspiration from South African playwright Athol Fugard, who was his mentor at Yale. Fugard, who is Irish and Afrikaner, worked with black actors to create brilliant plays about the horrors of apartheid.
“With Athol,” Jacoby says, “I saw that race is something that has to be
examined by both sides. Jacoby quotes Ellison himself, who wrote, “The
ideal level of sensibility to which the American artist would address
himself tends to transcend the lines of class, religion, region, and
race—floating, as it were, free in the crowd.”
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