Clay

After several unsatisfying and downright disappointing performances all semester Clay let me love theatre again.  I had almost become one of those anti-stage cynics, the opposite of what I had grown up as, because I was so disheartened by the boring performances I have been subject to as of late.  So this hip-hop musical, shining lights in my face and shoving sounds in my ears, brought me back behind the curtains and excited about the presence of one great performer.
The story Clay tells is wrenching one, filled with hate and regret.  The way it is told is an unusual one, portraying it sentiments better then a straight play, movie or multi-person musical ever could.  One performer playing every role implicitly expressed the complication of relationships in a meaningful way that would have been lost if each character was confined to one body.  The physical shift the performer took on to play each person forced the realization of how different each person was and exemplified the conflict that stemmed from those differences.  The music, the glorious beats interlaced with words flying at you from all directions made you feel to your core that each word was true and the only thing that was happening at that moment was this play, this hip-hop musical.
There were little things that bothered me about the performance, music that lost its luster, lights that were a little to bright, yet by the time I left the theatre I did not care. As a whole the play moved me, shifted me, made me happier to be here.  Though the story was in it’s own way horrifying, there was a happy ending and that one man gave hope to the whole audience.
If only we as an audience had been more enthused, more responsive, because even though the performer gave us a gift that can be equaled by little else, he could have taken his performance and us to another level if we had given him the energy back that he gave us.