Reflections by Robert Liebowitz

‘The world is a small place’, Steven Wright tells us,’but I wouldn’t want to paint it’.

Indeed. He is correct on both fronts.

In 2016–suddenly 7 years ago–I was being feted with a theater award for Excellence in Playwriting at a ceremony at Sardi’s, a famous restaurant known to all theater people. A nice theatrical memory, in a lifetime of theatrical memories.

Suddenly, this very tall person appeared on the horizon; at the end of the bar would be a more apt description. Blessed with a decent memory, I recognized him immediately. Of all the folks that have passed through the doors of my life–both theater people and regular ‘civilians’–Courtney has always been known to have the largest, illuminating-an-entire-room smile ever. Between that, and his frame at 6′ or more, there was no mistaking him. I hadn’t seen him since our college days in 1978, an astounding lapse of 38 years.

The theater world is a small world, and within minutes we were hugging and laughing and smiling, and doing all the things that two people do when reunited after a passing of some substantial time. Of course, in the theater, there is always this caveat–let me know when your next show is. Of course; you do the same. And so, it’s that carrot that carries us through our days.

No empty gesture here. He has since seen my work, and I have seen his. There we were, facing off on a college stage in the previous century, when we were still in our teens, and the world that awaited was ahead of us. Now, all these years later, we are again two peas in a pod, visiting each other in the lobby or backstage in a dressing room. So much had changed, and yet nothing had changed.

My dear friend and college classmate Courtney Everette is starring in a revival of ‘Resurrection’, a play about the 1921 Tulsa Massacre, at the American Theater of Actors…and it is Must-See-TV.

Ever since the George Floyd Execution–he didn’t die, he wasn’t murdered, he wasn’t even assassinated in anonymity, he was executed in the town square–there has been a profound shift in the Theater Landscape, and with good reason: Things Must Change. It is no coincidence that the two most fertile times for theatrical production in American History took place in the 1930s, and the 1960s–both decades filled with a real, justified anger and rage, and a fervent attempt for positive change in the immediate future.

There is no question that this rage spilled out into our theaters–or was it the other way around?–and made day-to-day living, in a general way, better for most people. The 1930s gave us The Group Theater, and Clifford Odets, and a host of A-List actors and actresses, plus the Omnipotent Presence of Orson Wells and the Mercury Theater. The 1960s gave us Ellen Stewart and La Mama, Sam Shepard, The Living Theater, and too many more theatricians to list here. Just now, in 2023,  they are our grandparents, as we continue to exist in the stream that they created and nourished.

In the three subsequent years, there has been a ‘tsunami’ of stories that attempt to depict a truer, more complete picture of real American History, and how traditionally disenfranchised minorities fit into that narrative. This is proper. This is correct. This is just. If it means stepping on a few toes, then that is what it means. Finally–finally–these other voices will be given their chance to be heard.

‘Resurrection’, by Ms. Anne L. Thompson–Scretching, is one such worthy venture. Too many times, modern, novice playwrights set out to tell a story about a particular element of Americana, through the prism of the African-American Community, or the LBGTQ+ Community, with mixed and often times unsuccessful results. Why? Because it is easy to confuse a play with a history lesson. History lessons are fun; knowledge– in a general way–is always a wonderful thing when imparted. But, a history lesson is not a play. The trick is to disguise the history lesson, while attempting to depict a play…a play, which has its own by-laws that governs it, impervious to other art forms.

‘Resurrection’ is a fantastic play, while being well acted and stylishly directed. You will learn much–as you would at any college lecture hall about any subject–but at play’s end you will feel that you went somewhere. That you’ve been somewhere. At the end of the day, that is the point of mounting a play in the first place.