More than 60 years later, Langston Hughes’ “Black Birth” is still a mainstay of African-American theater.

(The Conversation) – At the end of each calendar year, a particular holiday show appears in African American communities and cultural centers across the country. “Black Birth” is a cultural tradition cherished by some and completely unknown to others.

One wonderful but confusing thing about this show is that depending on where you see it, you’ll see significantly different productions – from The Intimate Theatre in Seattle at Penumbra Theatre in Saint Paul or in National Center of African American Artists in Boston.

This might seem counterintuitive, but it is exactly what the author: Langston Hughes intended.

1 artist, 2 moves

Hughes, a standout though writer still underappreciatedis often associated with The Harlem Renaissance immediately after the First World War, which stimulated the growth of jazz. This era – when he wrote some of his most famous poems such as “Black talks about rivers” – was the first African-American artistic movement since Emancipation.

But Hughes is one of the few artists whose work spanned both the Harlem Renaissance and the Black Arts Movement of the 1960s and 1970s, who collaborated with the modern Civil Rights Movement. In 1961, when Hughes created “Black Nativity,” the Black Arts Movement was still in its infancy, but its early ethos was in the air.

In the 1920s, civil rights leader WEB DuBois developed Krigwa playersa group that originated in Harlem but had satellite organizations in Cleveland, Baltimore, Philadelphia, and Washington, DC. The goals of the Krigwa Players, published in the NAACP’s Crisis magazine, were for African-American communities to create art “for us,” “through us.” ”, “about us” and “near us”. As black consciousness grew and evolved in the 1960showever, black artists wanted to overcome this criterion. They wanted to place African American life in all corners of existence, including ideas that were imposed on black culture and transforming them to empower black people.

Hughes’ desire to write “The Black Nativity” was his attempt to reclaim the story of Jesus’ birth for African Americans—to show the son of God, the ultimate salvation, coming out of the black community. American notions of Jesus have almost always been portrayed as white, rightly so a few exceptions. Hughes’ play, on the other hand, called for an all-black cast, including Jesus’ mother and father.

Freedom and flexibility

Moving people from the edge of a story to the center can lead artists to find more creative forms. What Hughes developed was less like a straightforward, straightforward narrative and more like jazz, with improvisation at its center.

The playwright wanted to make a production with elasticity: a ritual with a basic framework, but with a lot of flexibility. Hughes began experimenting with this ritual form in his 1938 play “You don’t want to be free?” performed by Harlem Suitcase Theatre. The play used African-American history as a framework, calling for the union of poor black and white people to fight against the exploitation of the rich.

“Black Nativity”, originally titled “Wasn’t That a Mighty Day”, has its roots in gospel music. The 27 songs from the original text serves as a sound framing tool. It was to have a large chorus – 160 singers strong, in the first production – as well as a narrator and two dancers to embody Mary and Joseph. The script calls for “no set (just a platform of different levels), a star and a place for a manger”.

Hughes was an appreciator of modern dance and enlisted two of the best to fill the roles of Joseph and Mary: Alvin Ailey and Carmen de Lavallade. Yes, that Alvin Ailey, who went on to found one of the most famous dance ensembles in the country.

By all accounts, the dances that Ailey and de Lavallade constructed were brilliant – but they were never seen by the public. pair leaves the show at the last minute and were replaced by new dancers who could not use their choreography.

My former teacher, the late one George Houston Basswas once Hughes’s secretary. Bass told me that Ailey and de Lavallade had a falling out over the title, which Hughes wanted to change to “Black Nativity.”

Ailey and de Lavallade, however, found “Wasn’t That a Might Day” to be more inclusive. The dancers felt that the show told the story of Jesus and did not need to dwell on the emphasis on race – not entirely unlike the debates of today. Should we point out that Barack Obama was a black president or a president who happened to be black?

“Black Birth” in the 21st century

I directed “Black Nativity” for Penumbra Theater for several years starting in 2008 in partnership with Twin Cities’ TU Dance Company.

Lou Bellamy, the theater’s founder and artistic director, told me there were audience members who came back every year. It was a tradition for many families originally from the Twin Cities to come from the four corners of the earth to see “Black Birth” and to visit their relatives – in that order of importance.

He went on to tell me that the audience liked it when we tweaked the show, but we had to keep the framework — including many of the gospel classics from the original, like “Go Tell It On the Mountain.”

In the original text of the play, the narrator told the story of Joseph who traveled to Bethlehem with his pregnant wife, because the emperor Caesar Augustus he had demanded that everyone be taxed. It begins with Mary and Joseph looking for a room.

In my version, the inner narrative focuses on an upper-middle-class black family who are visited by a stranger who helps them find the true meaning of Christmas. Mary and Joseph are a truly extended part of the family who introduce themselves to the stranger and need a place for the holidays. They are not left in a manger, but brought into a home – causing the audience to reexamine how to welcome the Lord into their homes and hearts.

Bellamy, the artistic director, also said that I have a responsibility to the outcome of the theater. He pulled out a spreadsheet and showed me the montage revenue from the previous year. I think Bellamy’s quote to me was, “I don’t care if you put the devil in the middle. We have to make that number.”

Financially, Hughes’ ritual play became the fuel for African American cultural institutions to sustain themselves. Penumbra, for example, was an anchor in the Rondo neighborhood of Saint Paul for almost half a century. “Black Birth” is also an anchor for National Center of African American Artistswhich produced its own version in 1968; Karamu House in Cleveland; Black Theater Troupe in Phoenix; and many others.

The flexibility of this play and the resilience of these institutions is why “Black Birth” is still here—and will be for a long time. Hughes’ vision allows African-American theaters as old as Karamu House, the nation’s oldest, or today’s newest playhouse to create their own “Joy to the World.”

(Dominic Taylor, Department of Theatre, School of Theatre, Film and Television, University of California, Los Angeles. The views expressed in this commentary do not necessarily reflect those of the Religion News Service.)