HeartBeat Ensemble offers us a peek, even if only by way of musings, into the lives of James Baldwin and Lorraine Hansberry in Jimmy & Lorraine. The convergence of art, love, and politics is a camp fire by which Black revolutionaries sit in the company of other brilliant, bar-raising, freedom-fighting, creative spirits. We honor their contributions and all of their sacrifices in the fight that should not have been— in their tenacity in keeping the baton of the struggle for longer than anyone should ever have to embody the vitriol of vehement and baseless rejection. We’ve gone as far as romanticizing the fight, given its own resilience. But, Jimmy & Lorraine romanticizes the sacrificial lives of two of Black History’s own in a new way. This production imagines what the love and camaraderie between these two civil rights visionaries could have been in a visual salve that attempts to heal the wounds created by the relentless battles they fought for a better America.
James Baldwin (Jon-Michael Reese), writer and civil rights activist, love sick and fed up of the racial hell of the 1950s and 60s, confides in Lorraine Hansberry (Vanessa R Butler), playwright and writer who is also experiencing much of the same. Jimmy and Lorraine drink together, lament their revolutionary woes, and gab about their personal lives with child-like giddiness and labored breathing of a life that weighs like lead aprons. The love between James and Lorraine is palpable as Reese and Butler’s personification of shoulder-to-cry-on dances, light-footed, scotch glass in one hand and cigarette in the other, around their characterization of burdened to the point of despair— answering the question, “is there a place where the negro can be free?” Jimmy & Lorraine imagines a freedom felt in the kindredness of their bruised souls.
The myriad of characters played by Nick Roesler weaves into the narration of both Jimmy and Lorraine, creating fuller pictures of their heartbreak and the round table political prattle they were made privy to. Roesler’s rapid transitions between characters, identities, languages, and accents are a thing of beauty.
Both Reese and Butler’s depictions of these fortified historical figures creates a realistic and emotionally pacifying window into the pieces of their lives that the viewing public reserved no right to bear witness to. Still, this production fills in the gaps of our knowledge of their pains and their contributions to our world with a poignant display of humanity that lies just beyond the strength we see in the images of them that remain.
Lynne Porter’s set design and Margo Caddell’s lighting design are complementary— the set, a heaven-white table, chairs, and stools propping up black typewriters— simple, yet the perfect accents to the subtle artistry of the characters, as is Vilinda McGregor’s costume design. The backdrop, several closed shutters indicative of the privacy of the moments we’re imagining while serving as the screen for Andrew Reardon’s projection design. The lights are nostalgic, creating a reminiscent glow around the carefully crafted scenes. Brian Jennings’ sound design the icing on the retrospective cake.
This production champions the humanity of these historical figures, humanizes their struggles, celebrate the idea that they might have found a love in each other that they were unable to find or receive from the world around them. This beautiful work created by Talvin Wilks turned spectacular production directed by Brian Jennings is a theatrical pop up encyclopedia, coating asides and monologues with projected video clips from real life historical moments, in one of the most engaging displays of Black History I’ve ever seen.
The heart of this production, well-received and stunning audiences into a silent applause, is the spirit of the fight that lies on in each of us, from one cause to another.