Clay: Succor through rap ballads

            Amidst the clamor and flashing billboards in the heart of Times Square, The Duke on 42nd street sets the stage for Matt Sax’s explosive performance of one-man hip-hop musical, Clay.

            Behind the red velvet curtains draping the stage, a man who calls himself Sir John begins to rattle the crowd anticipating the arrival of acclaimed hip-hop superstar Clay. While the audience awaits the entrance of Clay, Sir John like a chameleon morphs into Clifford. Though Clifford’s face is hidden under the hood of his sweater, the audience’s eyes are curiously fixated on the blood smeared all over his face. This is just the start of the intoxicating performance where we are introduced to the protagonist Clifford, his obnoxious and callous father, emotionally distressed mother, his pedophilic stepmother, and hip-hop mentor Sir John.

            Clay captures Clifford’s internal struggle as he experiences the raw and painful realities of his parent’s divorce. Stuck with a jet-setting and absentee father and mother who only acknowledges his presence with a yearly call on Christmas, Clifford uses hip-hop as the medium to articulate his conflicted emotions. Seeking to learn how to rap, Clifford escapes from his home in Westchester and wanders into Sir John’s bookstore in Brooklyn. Matt Sax exhibits his vocal talent in a sequence of beat boxing where Sir John quizzes Clifford on his knowledge of popular sounds from Michael Jackson and the Wu Tang Clan. The theater explodes with laughter at Clifford’s pathetic and futile attempts to mimic his mentor’s beats.

            Perhaps Sax’s versatility is best exposed in his successful transition among the five characters. Sax masterfully goes from depicting a naïve and vulnerable young boy, to contorting his face illuminating Clifford’s father’s snarl and condescending demeanor, topping it off with his excruciating and whiny voice. With the rapid covering and retracting of his hood over his head and facial expressions, Sax illustrates the exchanges between father and son effortlessly. Sax also brings to life the image of Clifford’s helpless mother; visualized in her obsessively tapping legs, fidgety hands that appear to be solving an invisible rubix cube, and the exchange of her cigarette, animated by the microphone, between her hands like a hot potato. Sax’s absurdly funny and somewhat disturbing rendition of his stepmother undressing is so convincing, it literally looks like a woman taking off her underclothes and leggings.  There are arguably six characters as Sax’s single prop, the microphone, holds a world of its own representing a cigarette, gun, telephone, gavel, razor blade, and even a woman’s mouth.

            Sax successfully entertains the crowd with his gestures, facial expressions, witty rhymes, and makes you squirm with his jaw-dropping and awkward erotic encounter with his stepmother. However, the compelling and harsh story of an alienated boy eaten alive by his insecurities searching for his identity reveals a deeper meaning. Clifford’s rap ballads connect with spectators, as Clay, Clifford’s stage name, repeatedly emphasizes, “we define ourselves through rhymes…it only comes out truthful if it’s from a truthful place.” Like Clifford, Matt Sax’s authenticity shines through making Clay a delightfully amusing yet inspiring performance.