New Freedom Theatre presents 'Mother Emanuel'

New Freedom Theatre's Mother Emanuel celebrates the memory of the nine who lost their lives. New Freedom's artistic director, Rajendra Ramoon Maharaj, conceived the 95-minute show and wrote it with Adam Mace and Christian Lee Branch; it was a hit at last summer's New York International Fringe Festival, produced by Rebel Theater Company.

Scenes of insight

Maharaj also directs, placing his four performers, each playing multiple roles (a total of 18), on a small platform in an intimate New Freedom studio rather than on the mainstage. The audience, about 60 total (though more chairs can be added), sits on three sides. J. Kenneth Jordan's set includes a painting on the wall behind the platform of a colorful stained-glass church window, each pane showing a victim’s hand-written quotation. There are two chairs, plus some theater blocks holding the show's few props.

Christopher Augustin, Christian Lee Branch, Lauren Michelle Morgan, and Sabriaya Shipley sing, dance, and act nonstop. Dressed simply in black and dark blue, they slip effortlessly from one character to another, playing not only all nine (ages 26 to 87), but people from the victims’ lives. Mother Emanuel presents one scene for each with a simple announcement of when that slice of life happened, taking us instantly back in time to a spiritually significant moment.

Twenty-five songs frame these scenes, mostly traditional hymns such as "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot," "The Old Rugged Cross," and "When the Saints Go Marching In," but also "My Country 'tis of Thee," and "The Star-Spangled Banner." While they play their many characters with sincerity and variety, they excel in the songs, with huge voices, exuberant floor-shaking dancing, and thunderous conviction. The performers’ only accompaniment is their tambourines, clapping, and stomping -- and that's all they need.

Serving up religion

Be ready for a rousing church service, because that's what most of Mother Emanuel feels like. Maharaj encouraged opening night's audience to "sing, clap, shout, and dance" along, and we did. I've never left an un-amplified show with my ears ringing before.

Mother Emanuel is so lively and fun one almost forgets why we've gathered. The show finally confronts the bloody moment with an understated solemnity that perfectly juxtaposes all that boisterous worship. This necessary moment leads to a life-affirming celebration.

Mother Emanuel never mentions the shooter, and steers away from the horrific details of that night's events and the controversies it prompted. A recitation of President Obama's speech about the shooting is its only commentary. Maharaj, Mace, and Branch wisely invite us to appreciate the tragedy not by reliving the deaths, but glimpsing the lives of people senselessly lost, a powerful and positive approach.

To read Margaret Darby's review of Hannibal Lokumbe's requiem for the Charleston Nine, click here.