BLAKK LOVE (STOREEZ OF A DARKER HUE)
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A wave of collaborations between literary and theatrical artists (reinaugurated, after a flurry of activity in the mid-70s, by Zebra Crossing’s 1990 Lexis Praxis) has given rise to a type of production consisting of little more than a jumble of poetry and prose thrown together under a broad title that usually includes the word “celebration.” How refreshing it is, then, to discover a page-to-stage adaptation–publicized as a “celebration of the depth and diversity of love”–that takes the 14 compositions of its seven authors and weaves them into a coherent narrative.
Blakk Love (Storeez of a Darker Hue) opens with an aural and kinetic montage of the refrains of later works–the theatrical equivalent of a table of contents–and with L.M. Duncan’s ode to “Blakk Love Supreme.” Then we meet a man and a woman, the former depressed and uncertain after the death of his son and the failure of his marriage, the latter withdrawn and psychologically scarred by her memories of a gang rape by schoolmates bent on punishing her for her feminism. As these two broken souls make their slow and tentative way toward trust and friendship, we hear them question their own and each other’s motives and desires.
