The Till Trilogy Does Not Glorify Emmett Till’s Death But Celebrates His Life, History, and Community

Opening at Mosaic Theatre Company on Oct. 4, the trilogy’s director, “We know the end at the beginning, so the point of Ballad is to give him that joy back.”

“What if we think about Till’s legacy rather than his death?”

This is the question that animates Mosaic Theatre Company’s The Till Trilogy, an ambitious mounting of playwright Ifa Bayeza’s three-part opus chronicling the life, death, and enduring influence of Emmett Till, the 14-year-old Black boy whose brutal murder in 1955 helped fire the civil rights movement. Two of the plays—The Ballad of Emmett Till, which follows young Emmett on his fateful trip to Mississippi; and Benevolence, a look at two couples, one Black and one White, wrestling with Till’s murder—have previously been onstage. Now Bayeza completes the saga with That Summer in Sumner, a dramatization of the Mississippi trial that set Till’s killers free paired with the story of the Black journalists who endeavored to uncover the truth.

The three plays are staged in repertory with a company of 10 actors; audiences can enjoy the plays in any order, and each stands on its own. The production anchors a sprawling series of free events dedicated to honoring Till’s legacy, with discussions and readings taking place in museums, community centers, and libraries across the D.C. metro area. Together, the unique repertory and extensive programming represent an opportunity for Mosaic, under the new leadership of Artistic Director Reginald L. Douglas, to strengthen local ties and draw audiences into a pivotal moment in American civil rights history—one that Bayeza has described, unabashedly, as the stuff of myth and epic.

Born into a family of artists and activists, Bayeza has always mixed creativity with politics. At 15, she got her first summer job working with her father, a physician, at a migrant camp in New Jersey, where workers often lived in destitute conditions. She vividly recalls one child, maybe 8 years old, whose body was riddled with rat bites and whose face was so world-weary he looked like an old man. “That was a transformative moment,” she tells City Paper. “Seeing what were, to me, the last vestiges of what American slavery was like, I was so stunned that I committed myself to chronicling my people. The wonder and allure of theater was the way I thought I could best do it.”

It was the early 1970s and around that same time Bayeza first learned the story of Emmett Till via a reprint of Jet magazine. Till’s mother, Mamie Till-Mobley, famously demanded an open-casket funeral so the world could see what Jim Crow injustice had wrought on her child; she urged Jet to publish photos of his body, and the publication quickly took the story national. Like many, the teenage Bayeza was horrified, and changed, by what she saw.

As an adult, Bayeza delved into Till’s life, even meeting with friends and family members who knew him personally. Her findings generated the foundations of The Ballad of Emmett Till, which premiered in 2008 at the Goodman Theatre in Till’s hometown of Chicago. One of Till’s childhood friends spoke to Bayeza personally and gave the play her stamp of approval. “She wrote me a letter to say that she had to close her eyes to realize that wasn’t Emmett on the stage,” Bayeza says.

Since its debut, The Ballad has been produced across the country, even as Bayeza has tinkered with its structure to accommodate different casting demands. Now, with the repertory at Mosaic, she has a chance not only to bring the project full circle with That Summer in Sumner but to mold all three plays into a collective, a process she describes as both exciting and daunting.

She has an experienced hand at the wheel in Talvin Wilks, who directed a previous production of The Ballad and the 2018 world premiere of Benevolence, both at Penumbra Theatre in Saint Paul, Minnesota. Mosaic’s previous artistic director, Ari Roth, attended the debut of Benevolence, and initiated plans to produce the full trilogy in D.C. Wilks remained attached to the Mosaic project despite Roth’s departure in the fall of 2020 and the cancellation of the run originally planned for that year.

Director Talvin Wilks in rehearsal for That Summer in Sumner; Credit: Billie Krishawn

While The Ballad and Benevolence are familiar territory, Wilks sees his work as anything but a retread. “Can you learn from and be informed by the first idea, but not necessarily replicate it?” he muses. “This is not like a touring production or a road show; it’s actually, in its own right, a new production.”

These new productions come at a time when Till’s case is garnering fresh press. In August, a Mississippi grand jury declined to indict Carolyn Bryant Donham, the White woman who accused Till of harassing her, prompting her husband, Roy Bryant, and his brother J.W. Milam to kidnap, torture, and lynch the boy. The grand jury’s decision came after the June discovery of an unserved arrest warrant that named all three on suspicion of kidnapping and manslaughter. Later this year, a high-profile film titled Till, directed by Chinonye Chukwu, will bring the events to the screen while drawing focus to Mamie Till-Mobley’s activism.

For Wilks, these developments might make the case seem newly relevant, but it’s all part of a much larger arc. “There’s always been a call on Emmett Till when we’ve traveled through the elements of Trayvon Martin and Michael Brown,” he reminds us. “Emmett and Mamie Till are of our legacy.” As for what the new developments mean for the production, Wilks understands it might bring people to the theater, but insists it doesn’t impact how they think about the work.

What does impact the work is Bayeza’s drive to recapture who Emmett was as a person before he became a tragic icon. During rehearsal for a pivotal scene in The Ballad in which Emmett, known by his nickname “Bo,” pleads with his mother to let him travel to Mississippi, Wilks emphasized the need to embrace Black boy joy. “It’s very important because that’s what Ifa has done with Ballad, especially, and even in the way he travels through That Summer in Sumner,” Wilks says. “It’s giving him his adolescence back, seeing him as a joyful child who loved to tell jokes, loved bubble gum, loved nice things, and was quite a dresser. We know the end at the beginning, so the point of Ballad is to give him that joy back.”

Playwright Ifa Bayeza speaks at the Edlavitch DC Jewish Community Center as part of Mosaic’s community engagement opportunities; Credit: Jhon Ochoa

During the scene, Bo is portrayed by three actors, forming his own chorus. The Ballad’s “fulltime” Bo, Antonio Michael Woodard, along with Vaughn Ryan Midder and Jaysen Wright, tease and plead with his mother, played by Billie Krishawn. Wilks and the cast work through the beats at the table in a rehearsal room covered by a comprehensive historical timeline, courtesy of the production’s dramaturg, Dr. Faedra Chatard Carpenter. With the help of choreographer and assistant director Sandra L. Holloway, the scene rises from the table and lands on its feet as a sort of doo-wop number. The three Bos step to and from Krishawn’s Mamie, snapping in time, moving lithe and free like the man he is itching to become.

Throughout the scene, Mamie instructs her son to mind his place—to not even look at White women, let alone speak to them. “Mississippi is not Chicago,” Mamie reminds him sharply. “It’s the South.” The warning rings hollow against his youthful vigor but carries a heavy burden of history for the contemporary audience.

At the Anacostia Community Museum, site of one Mosaic’s many community events, Bayeza performed a reading of the same scene and several others before opening the floor to discussion. Her knowing rendition of Till’s adolescent longings earned appreciative laughs, and the room hummed with agreement as she described the poetry threaded through Till’s history. Others testified to the grim personal significance of Till’s story, echoing Bayeza’s teenage awakening.

Similar events dot the calendar throughout the fall, forming the expansive outreach that Douglas sees as fundamental to his mission. “We want to be an organization that can bring people together, and that’s inherent in our name: Mosaic,” he explains. “Different people, different perspectives, coming together to create something beautiful.” It’s one of many signature projects Douglas is overseeing in his first full season, which also includes a multiyear oral history project focused on H Street NE and a series of infrastructural changes designed to make Mosaic a better place to work.

Like Bayeza, Douglas grew up seeing art and activism in unity with one another. “So much of The Till Trilogy is an opportunity not to forget, but also a call to action,” he says. “A call to not repeat those mistakes of the past, to reconsider our relationship to justice and to one another.” For Bayeza, The Till Trilogy arrives at a point when addressing those mistakes is vital to stemming the tide of White hostility that echoes Mississippi circa 1955. “I’m hoping this will alert us to what we’re up against,” she warns. “And then get us thinking creatively and positively about what we can do, what we need to do, and how we’re gonna do it.”

“Rebuilding the public square is what theater can do,” she adds. As its ambitions attest, Mosaic Theatre Company is running on that same conviction.

The Till Trilogy, written by Ifa Bayeza and directed by Talvin Wilks, runs in repertory Oct. 4 through Nov. 20 at Atlas Performing Arts Center. (The Ballad of Emmett Till opens Oct. 4; That Summer in Sumner opens Oct. 5; and Benevolence opens Oct. 6.) mosaictheatre.org. $50–$64.

Review by Jared Strange for the Washington City Paper.

Review: Cal Shakes’ dazzling new ‘Lear,’ set in the ’60s Fillmore District, takes the tragedy to another level

Everyone knows King Lear, the volatile monarch who tries to divide his kingdom among his three daughters and loses it all in the process.

But seeing “Lear,” Marcus Gardley’s bold new adaptation of Shakespeare’s monumental tragedy, is enough to make you wonder whether you’ve ever really grasped the full impact of the original play.

Gardley lops off the “King” designation, retelling the story of the flawed title character in bracing contemporary terms, taking it out of the distant past and bringing it into the here and now.

Well, definitely the here, and almost the now. In its world premiere production at the California Shakespeare Theater, which opened Wednesday at the company’s Bruns Amphitheater in Orinda, this “Lear” is set in San Francisco’s Fillmore District during the 1960s, a heyday for Black art, music and culture, but also a time when Black displacement was draining the lifeblood of neighborhoods throughout the region.

Lear’s (James A. Williams) descent into madness is artfully calibrated in Marcus Gardley’s new take on the Shakespeare tragedy, which he sets in San Francisco’s 1960s Fillmore District. (Photo courtesy Kevin Berne)

Gardley, an Obie-winning playwright and an Oakland native, knows both the region and Shakespeare’s play, and what he’s created in this sprawling hybrid is nothing short of dazzling. This is “King Lear,” to be sure, but with a contemporary, eyes-wide-open point of view: Like in his earlier plays, including the widely acclaimed “black odyssey,” Gardley writes the way we talk, with a deep understanding of character, language and history that resonates throughout the production.

Beautifully co-directed by Cal Shakes artistic director Eric Ting and Aurora Theatre Company’s associate artistic director Dawn Monique Williams, the sprawling three-hour, fifteen-minute production is often hilarious and ultimately deeply moving. Presented in partnership with the Oakland Theater Project and Play On Shakespeare, it’s a final triumph for Ting, who has announced that he’s leaving the company to relocate to New York.

Ting and Williams bring the play to life on multiple playing areas across the Bruns stage and throughout the multilevel San Francisco house that is the central feature of Tanya Orellana’s set design (artfully illuminated by Scott Bolman); the action often spills off the stage, with actors moving through the audience for entrances and exits. The production is dynamically paced, and music plays an essential part, with one of the house’s upstairs rooms occupied by composer-bassist Marcus Shelby and trombonist Scott Larson; their solos and duets supply the performance with a steady pulse.

Gardley’s script, like Shakespeare’s, is both humane and deeply poetic, and the Cal Shakes cast embodies it with thrilling intensity. This “Lear” is strongest where it counts, with James A. Williams in the title role of the imperious patriarch. Williams plays the part with power, intelligence and emotional clarity; he’s always attuned to the grasping machinations of the rapacious characters around him, and his command of Shakespeare’s language is complete. One word, a look or a single long breath from this actor expresses a lifetime, and his descent into madness is artfully calibrated.

In tune with Shelby’s music, the characters’ inner thoughts often come across like jazz riffs, with a winning mix of humor and menace expressed. Jomar Tagatac gives an intensely revealing performance as the evil Edmund, and Lear’s scheming daughters — Emma Van Lare’s Regan and Leontyne Mbele-Mbong’s Goneril — seethe with desire and murderous intent. Sam Jackson does a deft double-turn as Cordelia and Shakespeare’s Fool, here named the Comic. Dane Troy is an eloquent Edgar, and Cathleen Riddley is the picture of loyalty as Kent. Velina Brown, looking sensational in a long white gown (Lux Haac did the costumes) and perched above the main stage for much of the production, sings a series of soulful jazz tunes as the Black Queen. Michael J. Asberry’s Gloucester, Dov Hassan’s Cornwall and Kenny Scott’s Albany round out the cast.

Every “King Lear” examines ideas of identity, aging and legacy. But Gardley’s “Lear” takes Shakespeare’s themes one step further. In his adaptation, the play isn’t just about the title character’s sanity. It’s a meditation on the soul of a community.

Marcus Gardley’s “Lear” runs through Oct. 2 at Bruns Amphitheater, 100 California Shakespeare Theater Way, Orinda. Tickets, $35-$80, are available at https://calshakes.org/.

Review by Georgia Rowe for the Bay City News Foundation.

LEAR Comes to the Filmore: A Bay Take on Shakespeare’s Great Tragedy, Directed by Dawn Monique Williams

Cal Shakes’ new production centers Blackness, and features live accompaniment by jazz favorite Marcus Shelby.

Dawn Monique Williams, Director

Although she faces stiff competition, you pretty much could call Aurora Theatre Company’s associate artistic director Dawn Monique Williams Shakespeare’s biggest fan. She has acted, directed, and been a dramaturg for his plays, as well as teaching them at Cal State East Bay and Sacramento State.

“[His work] contains multitudes with such a wide, full, complex range of human emotions,” she told 48hills. “I love that his plays are messy, and the dramaturgy is imperfect. He wrote everything. I was just lecturing to my class that Midsummer follows the Aristotelian structure of taking place in 24 hours, and Pericles is a 15-year journey. He has plays where ghosts show up. There’s magic and romance and the supernatural, and it’s all deeply resonant.”

Williams is co-directing Marcus Gardley’s contemporary translation of King Lear at the California Shakespeare Company through October 2. Her co-director for Lear is Eric Ting, who is in his last season as Cal Shakes’ artistic director. Williams thinks that Ting’s deep commitment to anti-racism, and to bringing new voices to the theater has made Cal Shakes even more exciting.

“With Eric, the programming is so dynamic, while still being on brand,” she said. “We can still do classic language plays and create new classics. The faces, bodies, and humans making work at the Bruns have expanded.”

The work on Lear started a few years ago, a long process that involved removing antiquated language from teh play while keeping the spirit intact. Cal Shakes worked in partnership with Play On Shakespeare on the project, and Gardley and Ting even played featured roles on Play On’s podcast.

Gardley, a superstar Obie-winning playwright who has written screenplays for the upcoming Marvin Gaye biopic  What’s Going On, and Amazon’s The Color Purple Musical, also wrote the wildly-successful 2017 show black odyssey for Cal Shakes, which Ting directed.

Williams, who grew up in Oakland—as Gardley did—says black odyssey was the first play that she saw whose setting felt familiar.

“It wasn’t set in New York,” she said. “It has references to where I grew up.” She mentioned an insider moment in which one character pokes fun at another by calling East 14th Street “International Boulevard,” a revisionist name that most long-time residents decline to use.

Article by Emily Wilson for 48Hills

Meet Ifa Bayeza, Playwright of THE TILL TRILOGY

Playwright of The Till Trilogy, Ifa Bayeza.

Playwright Ifa Bayeza has dedicated much of her creative life to bringing the story of Emmett Till to the stage. This fall, Mosaic presents her opus, The Till Trilogy, three plays celebrating the Civil Rights icon. The trilogy includes world premiere That Summer in Sumner, and reunites Bayeza with director Talvin Wilks, who previously directed her plays The Ballad of Emmett Till and Benevolence.  

Meet Ifa Bayeza, who recounts first encountering Till in the pages of Jet and her path to creating The Till Trilogy

See one play, two, or all three. Plays in The Till Trilogy can be seen in any order, or individually as a standalone theater experience.

Buy tickets here.

The World Premiere of We declare you a terrorist… Raises Relevant Questions on War

Tim J. Lord’s play at Round House Theatre depicts a fictionalized account of the 2002 Moscow hostage crisis, but echoes the current crisis in Ukraine.

Tim J. Lord

Tim J. Lord, the playwright behind We declare you a terrorist …, now playing at Round House Theatre, could not have anticipated the political context and baggage around the show’s world premiere. It’s a fictionalized account of the 2002 Moscow hostage crisis, during which Chechen terrorists took control of a theater until Russian authorities pumped the space full of gas. The play’s protagonist is from Ukraine, and characters debate Russian President Vladimir Putin’s influence on the country, halfway through his first official term. The current war in Ukraine adds some sting to the dialogue, but even without the war, this would be a tough political drama that raises important questions about how different people find purpose in violent struggle.

Co-directors Ryan Rilette and Jared Mezzocchi, along with scenic designer Lawrence Moten, start with a deceptively simple space. It is an anonymous room with beaten up furniture—one character describes it as a kind of purgatory. It’s a year after the hostage crisis and the action begins with an interrogation. An FSB officer (Elliott Bales) pulls a black hood off another man (Cody Nickell) with bound wrists, and starts asking questions. Before anyone can speak, sounds of someone being tortured happen offstage.

The FSB officer uses the frightening sounds and disorientation to his advantage: He is off-putting, almost jovial (none of the actors speak in Russian accents, which is the right choice). You may know that the FSB is modern Russia’s successor to the KGB, so this officer is familiar with interrogation tactics. It turns out his prisoner wrote the play that was being performed when hostages were taken, and after surviving, the playwright was caught trying to enter Chechnya. We eventually learn why, but not just through the officer’s questions. In flashbacks to the hostage crisis, the playwright converses with a Russian teenager, Masha (Bekah Zornosa), and Kayira (Ava Eisenson), a Chechen terrorist. Both admonish the playwright and serve as his conscience.

Ava Eisenson (Kayira), Cody Nickell (The Writer), and Bekah Zornosa (Masha) in “We declare you a terrorist...” at Round House Theatre. Photo by Margot Schulman Photography.
Ava Eisenson (Kayira), Cody Nickell (The Writer), and Bekah Zornosa (Masha) in “We declare you a terrorist…” at Round House Theatre. Photo by Margot Schulman Photography.

The major flourish in We declare you a terrorist involves the nature of the flashbacks. Zornosa and Eisenson do not physically appear on stage. Instead, we see video projections of them on the walls, while Nickell reacts to them in real time. It is an eerie effect, and has a purpose beyond delineating flashbacks from the present. The images of Zornosa and Eisenson are literally larger than life, projected to roughly the size of a movie screen, so their expressive faces only need small changes in order to communicate a great deal. Russian brutality shapes how their characters think, albeit in opposite ways, and the tensest scenes are an extended argument over Kayira’s tactics. She may have a gun and a bomb strapped to her, but the hostage crisis has plenty of downtime, which gives them ample time to pore over the efficacy of terrorism.

If the flashbacks are about the Russian state’s influence over its people, the interrogation scenes are an extension of the government’s will. The dynamics between the playwright and FSB officer are similar to Taking Sides, a 1995 play set in World War II’s aftermath where an American soldier tries to decide whether a German conductor has Nazi sympathies. Both plays conclude that the answers are nowhere near as simple as the interrogator wishes, and the mere act of detaining an artist curdles any possibility that someone such as a conductor or a playwright might remain a friend of the homeland. Bales’ physically commanding performance is all about needling Nickell’s character, and they are effective sparring partners. (Bales flubbed some lines at the production City Paper attended, but he effectively improvised his way through them.) Their dialogue turns into an intellectual battle of wills, another smart choice since onstage depiction of violence and torture would get in the way of Lord’s deeper themes. The officer has his reasons for joining the FSB, just like Masha and Kayira, to the point that every character, including the playwright, become an avatar for one possible path toward unhappiness and despair under the Putin regime.

Lord declines to name Nickell’s playwright character, although a simple Wikipedia search reveals him to be Georgi Vasilyev. By keeping his name semi-anonymous, Lord can take more liberties with the character’s choices and conduct. Absent any strong connection to Vasilyev, Nickell has the freedom to tackle a tricky role, one where the playwright empathizes with three people who hate him for wildly different reasons. His use of understatement is consistently effective, conveying subtle shifts between terror and curiosity, and more importantly, it is dramatically plausible that the other three characters feel comfortable confiding in him. The playwright’s tools are modest: he knows how to ask questions, and has a sense of humor. He may be lucky insofar that Masha and Kayira have opinions about art, although the play also suggests these shared interests, not politics, are where common ground can exist.

Because of its setting and the play is a world premiere, I was curious how We declare you a terrorist… would involve the audience. In an earlier draft, perhaps Lord imagined some kind of interactive theater, with a terrorist character shouting directly at the audience. That tactic would be immediately shocking, then lose its power. Ultimately, Lord does make use of a theater full of attentive listeners. At a crucial moment, the lights turn up and Nickell addresses the audience, his voice full of solemnity and regret. The implication is that we are the dead from the 2002 crisis, a powerful gambit that breaks down several barriers. If the original intent was to disabuse us from thinking about terrorism and totalitarianism in abstract terms, then a secondary, more immediate effect is how this play changes the way we think about the war in Ukraine—and why both sides fight.

We declare you a terrorist…, by Tim J. Lord and co-directed by Ryan Rilette and Jared Mezzocchi, runs at Round House Theatre until May 8. 

Article by Alan Zilberman for the Washington City Paper here.