On a cold night, with a sun-setting sky like Trix yogurt, this writer walks into the Papua New Guinea Sculpture Garden to be greeted by figures in the forest, walking between wooden statues of crocodiles climbing down into the dark bed of woodchips. What sounds like a shrooms-induced dream was actually the press preview of, “Said the Shotgun to the Head,” the Blackstage Theater Company’s first show of spring quarter.
Originally an epic poem written by Saul Williams, it has been adapted for the stage by Alan Holt ’11. The project was developed while Holt was studying abroad in Madrid during winter quarter, and practices for the performance began at the start of spring quarter. This show marks the first show of the quarter for Blackstage, a student performance group dedicated to presenting multicultural work and promoting black expression through theater.
Holt got the idea to work with “Shotgun” after taking “Muse, Music and Musing,” a class taught by Williams himself last year–Tabatha Robinson ’12, choreographer for this one-man show, described the class as “sick, sick, sick.” Four Stanford students have taken Williams’ abstract epic and transformed it into a uniquely Blackstage dramatic experience. While it’s hard to say exactly what “Shotgun” is about–the abstractness of the piece was what initially attracted Holt to adapt it for the stage–the play focused on the coming of a female messiah told through the voice of a beggar, played by Kiyan Williams ’13.
The eerie serenity of the Sculpture Garden after dark proved to be the perfect visual frame for Williams’ solo performance. The forest felt like a veritable oasis among the campus commotion–the calm of the space was only disturbed by the occasional perplexed jogger or beeping Marguerite shuttle. The show is comprised of 45 minutes of 10 poems blended into one mega-poem, recited by Williams in what he considers to be his debut acting performance. Holt’s adaptation of “Shotgun” is a song, a dance, a play and a poem. There is so much meaning in the movement, and the depth and amorphousness of the stage make the entire experience a wholly engaging one. The warm timbre of Williams’ voice and his graceful movements are accented by an original score composed by junior David Kettler, a “genius,” in the words of Holt, who brought in all his instruments and began improvising, until he found a subtle sound that worked for the show.
45 minutes of an abstract monologue is bound to leave even the most erudite audience confused for at least a moment. But even if you don’t understand the entire poem, you’ll find parts that affect you–whether it’s Williams’ description of a woman’s “eyes like two turntables” or his thoughts on the state of the union, there are guaranteed to be at least a few lines that will hit you and make you think. Every member of the audience will have her or his own interpretation of the show–for Holt, “it’s a piece about the human condition. I know that sounds a little vague, but it’s a love story, it’s a story of pain, it’s a story of loss and memory. It’s coming out of this post-9/11 world we’re living in and trying to find a true sense of identity, despite all this destruction and all this war going on around us. It’s really about love, I think.” Robinson calls it “a twisted love song,” while for Williams, “Shotgun” is a “provocative piece” that “encourages the audience to go on this journey with us to examine the beliefs and values that are central to our lives and our being.”
Even if you don’t consider yourself a fan of avant-garde poetry, you will undoubtedly learn something about yourself in those 45 minutes in the Stanford sculpture sanctuary. My only advice: dress warmly. And come with an open mind.
April 22, 23, 24 at 8 p.m. in the Papua New Guinea Sculpture Garden, near Roble dorm, Stanford University