草莓视频免费版app

A quick overview of Jeanine Tesori’s 2019 opera that explores race, loss, and resilience.

Premiered

2019

Music by

Jeanine Tesori

Libretto by

Tazewell Thompson

Language

English

Tony Award®–winning composer Jeanine Tesori and NAACP Theatre Award–winning librettist Tazewell Thompson’s opera inspired by contemporary events and Black literature, including Ta-Nehisi Coates’ Between the World and Me and James Baldwin’s The Fire Next Time. Jazz, pop, and operatic-influenced music coupled with vivid flashbacks capture the anguish of a family and community navigating the turbulent waters of loss at the hands of police.

At its heart, opera has always been about using music to tell stories. But the idea of using opera to tell contemporary stories that speak directly to the audiences of the day and hold a mirror up to their daily lives? That’s fairly new.

But not as new as you’d think.

In the late 1800s, operatic composers—who’d previously spent a lot of their time building operas around royals, aristocrats, ancient heroes, and mythical figures—started looking to “everyman” characters to showcase on stage. These characters represented real life, rather than the life of the privileged few. They were rural townsfolk, traveling performers, painters, activists, sailors, etc., each with a natural turn of phrase and an easy conversational style that likely would have been instantly recognizable to listeners. Fluff and flowery language were cut back in favor of honest communication and relatable scenes that were relevant and true. And because truth was so important to these new operas (and also because many of them just happened to be Italian), this operatic trend is sometimes known as verismo, a blend of the Italian words for “realism” and “truth.”

Blue is a story of twenty-first-century Black American life involving law officers, academics, students, and small business owners who could be our neighbors, our friends, our family, or ourselves. The characters use contemporary speech patterns and expressions that we’d hear in our classrooms, living rooms, or churches, and the events are reflective of exactly what’s happening in the United States today. Yet though the story, its people, and its vocabulary are extremely current, the opera is actually drawing on a long-standing tradition of taking modern-day tales and presenting them in a new light on the stage, with one essential added ingredient: Music.

Why is music so important? And why are artists like Jeanine Tesori and Tazewell Thompson still writing operas in the age of movies and Netflix?

Maybe because music is a highly effective way to generate empathy and establish human connection. When someone pours out their heart in song, listeners are sometimes likely to experience the singer’s joys or sorrows more acutely—which can, in turn, inspire audiences to think and act differently once the curtain comes down, incorporating the lessons they’ve learned from feeling someone else’s emotions for a while. So although verismo is more than 100 years old, and opera itself is even older, artists know that the effects of musical stories—especially stories of people who live and speak just like us—are both immediate and lasting. In other words: Tales told in song can be used to explore our own times, but the power of such operatic tales is timeless.

In Harlem, a couple celebrates the birth of their firstborn—a boy, Black and beautiful. As the mother worries for their son’s future in today’s America, the father wrestles with his role as a police officer, a “Black man in blue.” When the unimaginable happens and the son is killed by a white officer, they must face every family’s worst fear.

Blue is an opera set in New York City, specifically Harlem with its deep history of Black community and culture. Three themes to watch and listen for include: 1) the legacy of racism; 2) family and community; and 3) the challenges of communicating between generations and viewpoints—the so-called Generation Gap.

The Legacy of Racism: In Act 1 of Blue, a sense of threat clouds the happy reveal of a baby on the way. As a Black boy, that baby evokes dread among the long-time friends of the Mother. They sing about the systemic racism that will put a target on his back as he grows. They even joke that it would be better if the Mother would send him to another country or to be raised by a pack of wolves. Later, the Father expresses similar fears in the form of warnings to the now-teenaged son. Later still, mourners lament: Tell us! / What crimes and misdemeanors / What sins committed by our Ancestors / That we, as a people, are made to suffer so. In Blue, the legacy and threat of racism is ever-present for Black families and communities.

Family and Community: Family, friends, and community can be sources of drama and stress as we balance our wants and needs with theirs. However, these relationships are also central to our celebrations, laughter, learning, and sense of well-being and belonging. But what happens when our darkest hours come and we are unsure how to carry on? Like the family in Blue, we often look to the people and groups that have known us best—especially those who have known grief themselves. We trust them to hold us as we grieve, and sustain us as we struggle to regain our footing.

Generation Gap: In a central scene in Blue, the Father and the Son face off in a clash as old as family: the authoritative, daunting father figure versus the passionate, idealistic youth. There is no question that the Father loves the Son and his impatience and anger has roots in fears about the teen’s safety. At the same time, the Son wants his dad’s approval even as he seethes about freedom and justice and his father’s career as a police officer. It is a struggle between what is and what could be.

Librettist and director Tazewell Thompson’s thoughts on Blue and its themes…

“The times are fraught. Lit by lightning and divisiveness. Love, family, friends and the church are there when we need them. And we need them now. We need a song to soothe our sorrows as we confront painful, personal truths. We need music in our lives and our children near to help us repair heartache; music to ultimately lift us and celebrate the bonds of sisterhood and brotherhood togetherness.”

The premise of Blue has a history that is both long as well as current. It taps into a cultural resilience and creativity for finding the means and moments to both articulate injustices and celebrate against a backdrop of constant loss.

As a persecuted minority, Black Americans in the United States have had to tread a convoluted and thorny path between deference and resistance. Leaders like Booker T. Washington advocated self-improvement by means of education, obedience, and service within a dominant white culture. The belief—or hope—was that white Americans would come to see Black people as contributors to American society; contributors worthy of respect and fair treatment. In the meantime, avoiding confrontation improved the chances of survival in a hostile society.

In contrast, Black leaders like Ida B. Wells, W.E.B. DuBois, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., Malcolm X, Rosa Parks, and many others believed that encouraging resolve and self-respect among their Black brothers and sisters was the way forward. They revealed the extent of racism in American culture—both social and institutional—and expressed convictions that Black lives would not improve without confronting the scope of the country’s racist attitudes and corrupt systems. They advocated calculated and strategic protests to inspire individual courage and communal dignity within the Black community, as well as press for political and social change.

Elements of these two vantage points continue their debate in Blue, particularly in the confrontation between the Father and the Son.

In Blue, a sense of threat is never far from mind. As described in the opera, abuse and incarceration and murder of Black youth is a heartrending constant in America’s history. In the United States, names and events have become flashpoints and causes for protest and change—from the lynching of 14-year-old Emmet Till; to the police shooting of 12-year-old Tamir Rice; to the killing of unarmed victims like Trayvon Martin, Rekia Boyd, Breonna Taylor, and George Floyd.

Resistance, though, has grown out of this systemic brutality. In 2013, activists Alicia Garza, Patrisse Cullors, and Opal Tometi launched the “Black Lives Matter” movement to bring ongoing attention the disproportionate killing of Black youth in police shootings. (According to a 2016 investigative report by The Guardian, unarmed Black people are 2.7 times more likely to be shot by police than unarmed white people.) Aided by social media, Black Lives Matter continues to shine a spotlight on racial inequality in the U.S. criminal justice system.

Act I

Scene 1: Harlem, New York City, the twenty-first century.

After months of ignoring calls, a young woman invites her best friends to her home in Harlem for an overdue catch-up session. They’re annoyed at her for being silent for so long, but overjoyed when they discover the reasons why: The woman has fallen in love, gotten married, and will soon be a mother.

As the Mother explains why she hasn’t been in touch, she shows her friends a recent picture of her husband in a New York City policeman’s uniform. The girlfriends are concerned about his profession, but are somewhat reassured when the Mother describes her deep love for her husband, and eventually announces she’s started her own business—a popular soul food café.

The girlfriends are impressed, but their mood changes completely when the Mother proudly declares she’s having a baby boy.

Shocked and horrified, the girlfriends beg the Mother to rethink her choice to have the baby. They remind her that, as a Black woman married to a Black man, she will give birth to a Black boy—and life can be exceptionally cruel and dangerous for young Black men.

But the Mother is determined; she will have this boy and love and cherish him no matter what. She asks her friends to give her their blessings, and they all express their solemn wish that the boy will grow up healthy, happy, and safe.

Scene 2: A short time later, a hospital room.

The Mother has given birth while her husband, the Father, is on duty. The Father comes to visit his wife and child, and—though he’s a little nervous about being a first-time dad—instantly pledges his everlasting love to his son.

Scene 3: That night, a sports bar.

The Father meets ups with some of his police buddies and excitedly tells them the happy news. His friends welcome him to the “daddy club” and tease him about the many perils of parenting—but, unlike the Mother’s girlfriends, they’re all excited (and jealous) that the Father is a proud papa to a baby boy. They raise a toast.

Scene 4: 16 years later, the Son’s bedroom.

A tense scene unfolds as the Father confronts his now-teenaged son about his many recent acts of protest—including jumping subway turnstiles, spraying graffiti, and spitting in a policeman’s face during a demonstration against the killing of unarmed Black men. The Father warns that this behavior puts the Son at risk, not only of possible jail time, but also of violence at the hands of prejudiced law officers. The Son—who spends his days as an artist but who’s angered by the harsh realities of life in twenty-first-century America and ashamed at having a cop for a father—lashes out at his dad. Things heat up, and the Son tries to start a physical fight, but the Father eventually pulls him into a hug, saying he’ll never let him go.

Act II

Scene 1: A few nights later, an office inside a Harlem church.

The Son has been shot and killed by a white police officer at a protest.

Reeling from the death of his son, the Father visits a church. When he arrives, a reverend tries to offer him comfort, but the Father, grief-stricken and furious, takes off his badge and reveals a gun he’s planning to use against the man who murdered his child. The Reverend pleads with the Father not to seek vengeance, but the Father claims he needs to make his own justice, as the system is bound to let a guilty white cop go free.

Scene 2: The morning of the funeral, back at the family home.

The Girlfriends return to the Mother—this time to mourn with her and help her dress for her son’s funeral. Together, the friends recount similar tragedies that have occurred across the United States.

The Mother barely listens. Instead she falls to her knees, begging God to restore her son to her. Bereft and exhausted, she collapses.

Scene 3: The funeral ceremony, a church in Harlem.

Friends have gathered to pay their respects. Heartbroken, the Reverend preaches a sermon and asks God to help ease the family’s pain. Lost in his own thoughts, the Father relives all the many times he tried to keep his son safe. Meanwhile the Mother, filled with memories of the day her son was born, asks that the Son be welcomed into heaven.

Scene 4: Flashback, the evening of the fight between the Father and Son.

The Mother arrives at the house, carrying armfuls of café takeout she’s lovingly prepared for her family. She hears the Father and Son arguing and calls them to dinner, hoping the food will help soothe them both and put an end to the conflict.

Will the Mother’s feast be enough for the men to forget their differences and repair their relationship? Will the family be allowed one final moment of joy... even if it’s only a memory?

Kennedy Center Education Digital Learning

Eric Friedman 
Director, Digital Learning

Kenny Neal 
Manager, Digital Education Resources

Tiffany A. Bryant 
Manager, Operations and Audience Engagement

JoDee Scissors 
Content Specialist, Digital Learning

Connect with us!

Generous support for educational programs at the Kennedy Center is provided by the U.S. Department of Education. The content of these programs may have been developed under a grant from the U.S. Department of Education but does not necessarily represent the policy of the U.S. Department of Education. You should not assume endorsement by the federal government.

Gifts and grants to educational programs at the Kennedy Center are provided by A. James & Alice B. Clark Foundation; Annenberg Foundation; the Andrew W. Mellon Foundation; Bank of America; Bender Foundation, Inc.; Capital One; Carter and Melissa Cafritz Trust; Carnegie Corporation of New York; DC Commission on the Arts and Humanities; Estée Lauder; Exelon; Flocabulary; Harman Family Foundation; The Hearst Foundations; the Herb Alpert Foundation; the Howard and Geraldine Polinger Family Foundation; William R. Kenan, Jr. Charitable Trust; the Kimsey Endowment; The King-White Family Foundation and Dr. J. Douglas White; Laird Norton Family Foundation; Little Kids Rock; Lois and Richard England Family Foundation; Dr. Gary Mather and Ms. Christina Co Mather; Dr. Gerald and Paula McNichols Foundation; The Morningstar Foundation;

The Morris and Gwendolyn Cafritz Foundation; Music Theatre International; Myra and Leura Younker Endowment Fund; the National Endowment for the Arts; Newman’s Own Foundation; Nordstrom; Park Foundation, Inc.; Paul M. Angell Family Foundation; The Irene Pollin Audience Development and Community Engagement Initiatives; Prince Charitable Trusts; Soundtrap; The Harold and Mimi Steinberg Charitable Trust; Rosemary Kennedy Education Fund; The Embassy of the United Arab Emirates; UnitedHealth Group; The Victory Foundation; The Volgenau Foundation; Volkswagen Group of America; Dennis & Phyllis Washington; and Wells Fargo. Additional support is provided by the National Committee for the Performing Arts.

Social perspectives and language used to describe diverse cultures, identities, experiences, and historical context or significance may have changed since this resource was produced. Kennedy Center Education is committed to reviewing and updating our content to address these changes. If you have specific feedback, recommendations, or concerns, please contact us at [email protected].