In His Silences And His Songs, An Unmistakable Note Of Genius
In my memory, Tarell Alvin McCraney's plays are weighted with silence. It fills the stage like a stone, so that even when characters are talking or singing or shouting, the emptiness echoes hard and heavy.
But that's mostly my perception, I think. Because really McCraney, who just won a MacArthur "genius" grant, writes plays that burst with songs and dances and elegant speeches.
In Choir Boy, which recently played Off Broadway, high-schoolers at an elite school for African-American boys filter their sexual and moral awakenings through their time in the choir, and the songs they sing are a window on their lives. When a young gay man and his homophobic classmate croon "Motherless Child," they leave reality for a moment, not necessarily hearing or seeing each other — but sharing a language all the same. It's a volatile scene about the ways we resemble our supposed enemies.
A MacArthur 'Genius' In The First Person
Tarell Alvin McCraney talks about shyness, speaking up — and rewriting Shakespeare.