https://digitallis.isg.siue.edu/files/original/ebdd342df128b6d11a87a37cfb825ca8.pdf 070f4f3c8a3259e0890523f38bde3a7b PDF Text Text DRUMVOICES : THE MISSION OF AFRO-AMERICAN POETRY* A Readers Theatre/Ritual Drama By Eugene B. * Script Adaptation of DRUMVOICES : THE MISSION OF AFRO-AMERICAN POETRY (a critical history} , by Eugene B. Redmond: Doubleday, 1976. Script copyright @ 1977 by Eugene B Redmond �Note to Directors & Players DRUMVOICES , as a theatricalqc:RJ,Tt , follows .~ 1 -tW- tradition of ritual theater or the 11 ri tualizing"of an event. I deally, for Readers Theater, th.fJ) · ta-ge.r ;;r,el\lrebo.u~ hav~:' i.'<ii'-Q_ {:l'P~ . "Ti<> ·"'.s~r~J~ ,. r-r 4:i:~ ·-s ~and ,· and ~a. ce iar. . Since ritual theater is conceptually and practically adaptable to as few or as many players as are desired, directors/stagers should proceed accordingly. Ritual drama is also qualitative in terms of depth and meaning- -that is it can be as deep o.r as light as one wants it . Hence , in preparing DRUMVOICES for the stage, directors should take pains to determine the levels of intensity or message - delivery · '·a, tff~J" ii.' • These levels can be achieved and/or modified .from performance to performance by shifting (heightening or lessening) tone and thrust . Ideally, for DRUMVOICES , one drummer and one horn -player should make up the cast , along with at least one male and one female dancer. At t~e same time , owing to the nexibility and adaptability of ritual theater , director may use as many dancers or musicians as are desired. The speaking cast sho.µ ld(preferably) consist of a three-member core-chorus . The core-chorus provides unison, harmony and call-and-response while at the same t ime suppl ying the main indivi,dual voices . S.et apart from t .he core-chorus is the narrator, who is atmospherically removed, some-what dispassionate but omnipresent i a vast-voice :bn ge. Another voice , some distance to the other side of the core-chorus is khown ·as a ralief-voiee . This character/player can- be made the focus of attention or go unnoticed while he/she slips into the audience , disappears to change clothes, or prepares for some sudden and -surprise shift in the action of the drrune. . :t'. �l art I: Music & I The stage is bear except for music stands, a podium and the musicians' instruments . A lo~t dancer appears, walks upstage and lmeels in preparation for the oped~~ance-poem. The first sounds are heard off stage at which time the drummer and horn player come on stage and situate themselves at their instruments . The dancer begins to dance when the musicians are assembled. Voice~{of~-stage) Music and !-- Listen f--Yai L:.Y ai ! Listen to the sound of rrry homl Music and I --Listenl--Yaif Yail Listen to the sound of rrry homl Musi c ~and !--Listen 1-- Yai I Yai ! Voice(ofr-atage as dance begins) Listen to the sound of my horn ••• This note you have longed to hear! Voieef2 Listentito ·" the s souiido of- ·w s,s:ong, : I s TJ.Y, FIO"r :,:the music you have hummed by ear. Voice#) I sound the time to rise for, the fields . I moan the rhythm as the congregation lmeels . Voice:/14 For I am the note of air, the catcher of your despair. Voice .5 I cry long nights for you my people . I rise early with my clayed cotton coat . I tote water to sun-baked lips. Voice#l And I sing awm, pain from your chain-whipped hips . (oven· ) �2 Voice#2 But now, my people, I've grown a new song Listen, all ye Americans! Listen with your ear: Voice#3(walking upstate to position) Now the congregation rises-Voice#4(walking upstage to position) Now the new corn sprouts-Voice#5(walking upstage to position) Now the air breathes fresh-Voice#l(walking upstage to position) Now the trodden land sings-Voice#2(walking upstage to position) Now my horn of clay airs a long signal motif. Voiee/13 Listen to the sound of my horn, my people . This rhythm of years long past . Voice#4 Listen to the sound of my horn, I say; Chorus(raising arms) Music and I :. . ·- have come at last J (Dunn s) ( As voices expaade, dancer ~BJid :dmmm~:ropic1~ u-p ,1tempo ; then dancer exits ~ After a slight pause , narrator begins the on~stage ritual program. ) Narrator I am the poem! We are the poem! Narrator And the poem is me ! Chorus And the poem is u s I And the poem is us I And the poem is us I (over) �3 Narrator I am the poem and I caae before pen ,1or pencil or paper or printing press t e~ ! I cupped and cuddled the wisdom of the winds in drum-bosoms of ecstasy. Drunmer Performs a wide range of rhythms , movements , tones , multiple-rhythms African, West Indian, fro-Latin , Afro - American. Narrator Listenl Listen closely and you can hear me , you can hear me writing in drum-language ; you can hear me conversing with tomorrow, today and the heretofore . Chorus DRUMFEEI' ON THE SO IL, ON THE SANDROADS OF THE MIND! FLESH-PISTONS PRANCING, THE EARTH'S ENGINE! IT IS A COMING FORTH, THE NIGHT WITHrN US COMING FORTH'! THE NIGHT WITHIN US COMING FORTH f FEEI' BEATING, BEATING, BEATING SEEDS INTO THE SO IL! Narrator I return and return and return to my magnificent and reliable archives . 'Chorus That J,ove we can depend onJ That Love we can depend on! Voice ( singing; as danc er:,s _s _tJ?l~ ONOBOROBO I Chorus ONOBOROBO ! Voice ONOBOROBo ! Chorus ONOBOROBO f (over) si; ·rch. J. th.a ta·ge )•0nt [•.op �4 Voice ONOBOROBO I Chorus ONOBOROBO! Narrator In my dependable cultural vault is the Idea-gram: that natural clinetagraphy landscaped by thudding thoughts of my totem family, the living-dead, the breathing, the unborn. I am the poetic flesh-temple .with many forms, earth- daughter and agile inundator o- history. I am the poem in motion. Dancer Executes rudimentary movements and other elements of traditional African and nee-African dance: isolation, use of pelvis and torso, leaps, twirls, pulls, the Yanvalou(or a ~indreckmovement), vigorous stretches, lifts and thrusts. (D~t;A:M. accompaniment) Narrator I am the Black and Unkno-wn Bard. American put me on a · conveyer belt moving in two different directions at the same time My African Jubilance turned to anger and a song of sabotage. My Indomi..table Echo and Id.ion flavored my Indomitable Press to be Human. As a poem, I became part of what I did, saw and dreamed on these shores: Field Hollers, Vendors r Shouls, Chants, Work Songs, Spirituals, Blues, Gospels, Jazz, Rhythm-nBlues, Soul Music. ( See attache.d chart of the preceding item~ , which ~ et!1- lustrated with short examples by voices after the list has been given.) Voice Did ye~ feed my cow? Voice Voice · Wi:11 yer tell me how? (over) �yodle •••• hey brother yodle •••• hey brother Vendors• Shouts watermellons, oh ••• sausages, oh ••• · tomatoes, oh ••• I got •em fresh ••• , Chants Om-la-la Om-la-la Work Songs Say I'm working hard on the chaingang Spirituals Ezekiel saw the wheel a-turning(chorus) Way up in the middle of the air Blues Blood, lawd, blood all on the wall Gospels O' happ. day . O happy day When Jesus washed When ~esus washed Washed all my sins away Jazz Riffs from Ike Rhythm-and-Blues Will you still love me tomorrow? Soul Music I ,m a soul man I •m a soul man �5 Voice Oh w' at did yer give 'er? Voice Cawn an hay! Voice Oh w1 at did yer give 1 er? Voice Cawn an hay! Voice(looking up) Evahwhub. I , -whuh I loo]j: dis mawnin, Looks lak rain, looks like rain. Chorus Looks lak rain, looks lak rain! Voice I gotta rainbow, tied all rounl mah shoulder, Ain gonna r ain, ain gonna rain. Chorus Dis is de hammer, Kilt John Henry 1 oice(emphatically} Twon•t kill me , baby, Twon 1 t kill me . Take dis hammer, Carry it to de captain-Voiee Tell him I'm gone , baby, Tell him I 1 m gone . ( ova--, ) �6 Chorus I got a rainbow Tied 1 roun my shoulder, Ain 1 t gonna rain, baby, Ain't gonna rain. · oice(work-song sung) Dis ole hammer--huht(chorus) 1 Ring lak silver--huht (chorus) Shine lak gold--huh chorus) Chorus Ain 1 t gonna rainJ Ain~t gonna rainl Voice(female) I 1m a big fat mamma, got the meat shaking on mah bones, I'm a big fat mamma, got the meat shaking on map. bones, And everry time I shakes some skinny girl loses huh home. Voice Run, nigger run; de patter-roller catch you; Chorus un, nigger, run, it I s almost day. Voice Run, nigger, run; de patter-roller catch you; Chorus Run, nigger, run, and tey to get get away. Voi-c e Dis nigger run, he run his best,-- Stuck his head in a hornet's nest,-Voice Jumped de fence and run fru the paster; (over) �7 Chorus White man run, but nigger run faster . Voice Dat nigger run, dat nigger flew,-Chorus. Dat nigger tore his shirt in two. N~rrator Yes, as poem, as cotton~pfucker, as banjo-player, as fiddler, as preacher, a minstrel-maker and mirror, as slave-rebellion leader, I emered a ne'I/ part of the old My 4friean song ushered forth in strange new Biblical Language. Voice(singing) Go Down, Moses, Way Down in Egyptland; Choru ( talking+pointing) , Tell old haroah To let my people go . Deep River •••• Deep Deep Deep River •••• Voice Deep Bi ver, my home is over Jordan; Deep River, Lord; I want to cross over into camp ground Voice (excitedly) And, yes , I DREAMED I was riding in that chariot. Chorus(or Voice) Swing low, sweet chariot, Coming fort o carry me hon:e1 (over) �8 Swing low, sweet chariot, Coming for to carry me home. Voice Green trees a-bending, Po' sinn.er stands a-trembling The trumpet sounds within-a-my soul; Chorus I ain't got long to stay here . Voice (male) Joshua fit de battle of Jericho,-Chorus Voice Joshua fit de battle of Jericho,-Chorus And de walls came tumbling down . Voice Dat morning •• •• Chorus And decwalls came tumbling Voice My God is a rock in a weary lan 1 - Chorus Weary lan 1 , weary lan' -Voice My God is a rock in a weary lan 1 - Chorus Shelter in de time of storm. Narrator I was Black and curious; I confronted harshness head-on; my struggle meant {over) �I had to learn to write like wh~tes, even though,Ironically, their laws 9 aid I could be punished or jailed for possessing such knowledge and skill . Voice You named me . Lucy Terry! Voice Gustavas Vassa J Voice Britton & Jupiter Hammon! Voice Coon & Buck I Voice Phyllis Wheatley! And I mastered Greek, Latin and English in my teens . Lonely Black girl whom the muses befriended, thousands and thousands of miles away from rrry West African home . I continued to emerge as the poem. Voice Should you, my Lord, while you peruse rrry song, Wonder from whence my love of Freedom sprung, Whence flow these wishes fort he common good, By feeling hearts alone best understood, I, young in life , by seeming cruel fate , }'las snatched from Afric' s fancy• d happy seat , :t an~ 6.xcruci- ting must mole t ., hat c·,Ja la ,cur~~ ~y ~~r&nt~ t r~ ~t? What sor:irows labour in my parents ' -breasts? Steel 1 d was that soul and by no misery mov•d That from a father seiz 1 d his babe belov 1 d: Such , such my case . And can I then but pray Others :may never feel tyranic sway? (whea1lay) Narrator You named me George Moses Horton. I did not like the injustice (over) of the �10 double standard. And so I turned into a poem. Even though some continued calling me "The Slave . " Chorus 11 Th Slave"? Voice Because the brood-sow's left si de pigs were black, - Whose sable tincture was by nature struck, Were you by justice bound to pull them back And leav e the sandy-colored pigs to suck? (Horton) Chorus(ominously) Runagatel Bunagate! Runagate! Runagate! Runagate! Narrator My mother cured ills and my father worked mots . In the bi-cultural constriction the poem became juju-man, the face hidden by the ambiguous minstrel smile . Voice We have fashioned laughter out of tears and pain; Chorus B~t the moment after- Voice Pain and tears again. (Cb. rles Bertram .Johnson) Voice Forgive these erring people, Lordi Yoip-~s Who lynch at home and love abroad. (cloJ,o D~) Narrator Still I wrote--this time just like I talked, though some made :run of it . But, as maker of song, I could only produce heart-rhythms . (over) �Voice 11 De Ounjah man, de Ounjah man, o chillen,run, de Gunjah man! Chorus O chillen,run, the Cunjah man! Voice Him mouf ez beez as fryin' pan; Voice Him yurs am small, him eyes am raid,-Voice Him hab no toof een him ol' haid, -Voice Him hab him roots, him vru.k him tricks,-Voice Him roll him eye, him mek you sick-Chorus De Cunjah man, de Cunjah man, O chillen run, de Cunjah mant(J.E.Campbell) Narrator I knew my rights, my rou@l times and my remedies. Voice(assurning tones ref1Boting physical illne ses) Blue-mass, laudnum, liver pills, "Sixty-six, fo I fever an 1 chills,'' Ready Relief, an 1 A.B.c., An 1 half a bottle of X.Y.Z.(J.W. Holloway) Narrator You nmned me Frances Ellen Watkins Harper, James Edwin Campbell, James Weldon Johnson, Paul Lawrence Dunbar--Son of ex-slaves, elevator boy risen to brilliant bard of the race. s the poem I strode forth in several kinds of English. ( OVell' ) �12 Voice I know why the caged bird sings, Ah me , lfuen bis wing is bruised and his . bosom sor~.,.Wnen he beats his bars and he would be free; It is not a carol 0f joy or glee, But a prayer that he send from his heart 1 s de p core , But a plea, that upward to Heaven he flings-1 know why thecaged bird sings l (Dunb~r} Narrator Above all , song exudes from me . Indeed, I am song. atch and examine me . My birthright is my anthem. My song is my sword. And I l l ift that sword high I Voice ( singing) Lift evfr y voice and sing, Till earth and heaven ring, Ring with the harmonies of liberty . Chorus (talking, pointing upwards) Till our rejoicings rise High as the listening skies!(J. W Johnson} Narrator As song-poem I forged pure flames of rhythms without books James Weldon Johnson called me the Black and Unknown ~ard. And, let me tell you some thing ••• hmmm.mmmm •••• I always loved to hear Malindy sing. Voice G 1 way an 1 quit dat noise , Miss Lucy-- Put dat music book away; What 1 s de use to keep on tryin 1 ? f you practise twell you're gray, You cain 1 t sta 1 t no notes a-flyin' Lak de ones dat rants and rings From de kitchen to de big woods (over} �13 Chorus When Malindy sings. Voice You ain 1 t got de nachel o 1 gans Fu• to make de soun 1 come right, You ~in't got de tu'ns an' twistin•s fur to make it sweet an• light. Tell you one thing now, Miss Lucy, I'm tellin' you fu' true, An. 1 'When hit comes to ra l right singin', '~ _Chor.us 1T " ain't no easy thing to do. Voice Easy 1 nough fu 1 folks to hollah, Lookin' at de lines an' dots, When dey ain't no one kin sence it, An' de chune comes in,in spots; But fu 1 real melojous music, Dat jes strikes yo I hea 1.t and clings, Jes you stan 1 an 1 listen wif me ~ · 1~ r • Chorus When Malindy sings . Voice Ain't you nev,ah hyeahd Malindy? Blessed soul, tek up de crossl Look hyeah, ain 1 t you jokin', honey? Well, you don't know what you los•. Y' ought to hyeah dat gal a-wai' blin,, (over) �Ro bins, la' ks, an' all dem things, Heish dey moufs an' hides dey faces Chorus When Malindy sings. Voice#l Fidlin' man jes' stops his fiddlin', Lay his fiddle on de she 1 f; Voice 2 Mockin 1 -bird quit tryin' to 'Whistle, 1 0ause he jes so shamed hisse r. Voice#3 Folks a-playint on de banjo Draps dey fingahs on de strings-Bless yo' soul--fu 1 gits to move •em, Chorus When Malindy sings. Voice She jes' spreads hu mouf and hollahs, Voice( singing) "Come to Jesus," Voice ••• twell you hyeah Sinnahs' tremblin 1 steps and voices, Timid-lak a-drawin 1 neah; Den she tu•ns to Voice(singing) 11 Rock of Ages, 11 Voice Simply to de cross she clings, (over) �15 Ant you fin yo' teahs a-drappin' .Oh(i>I?US When Malindy sings. Voice Who dat says de humble praises lif de Master nevah counts? Heish yo' mouf, I hyea.h dat music, Ez it rises up an' mounts-Ploatin1 by de hills an' valleys, a:y above dis burryin 1 sod, Ez hit makes its way in glo ry ; . " Chorua To de very gates of God~ Voice Oh, hit re sweetah dan de music Of an edicated band; An' hit 1 s deara.h dan de battle's Song o 1 triumph in de lan•. Voice 1 It seems holier dan evenin' \when de solemn chu'ch bell rings, Voice 2(slowly,searchingly) Ez I sit an' ca 1,m ly listen Chorus While alindy sings. Voice Tows stop dat ba 1 kin, hyeah me! Mandy, , mek dat chile keep still; (over) �16 Don't you hyeah de echoes callin 1 F 1 om de valley to de hill? Let me listen, I can hyeah it, Th·' oo de br-esh of angels I wings , Boft and sweet, Voice 3 ( singing) • • • 11 swing . 1 ow, Sweet Chariot , " Voice(dreamily and ecstatically) Ez Malindy sings . (Dunbar) Narrator Poem that I was and am, I traveled from "oasis to oasis . " Voice Man's Saharic up and down . (M . B. Tolson) Narrator Riverbbats , river towns chaingangs • • Voice(singing as chorus makes work-sounds in background) Well don ' t you know That's the sound of the men, working on the chain-n-n-n gan-ee-ang; Well don 1 t you know That's the sound of the men , working on the chain gang . (Cooke) Narrator Bar-room toughs , hard-hearted Hanna , Stagolee ••• they all knew me . Voice Hard haarted Harm.a- Voice From Savannah, GEE A. Voice She was so cold, yal,1-Chorus Wasn't shel (over) �17 Voice She 1 d pour water on a drowning manJ Chorua(slowly and deliberately) Water, on a drown-ii-nnng man. Voice(attracting the attention of others) It was early one mornin 1 , When I heard my bulldog bark; Stagolee and Billy. Lyons Was squablin 1 in the dark . Voice Frankie and Kohnny were lovers , Lordy , how they could love, Voice Swore to each other , True as the stars up above , He was her man but he done her wrong. Voice(female) Shine , shine , shine , ••• save po ' me . Narrator I was in the constant see-saw of life , wading through hell in search of heaven. Bu t I kept my working philosophy with me . Voice l De stopper get de longest rest in de empty jug. Voice 2 De price of your hat ain 1 t de measure of your brain . VoiceJ3 De graveyard is de cheapes' boardin 1 -house . Buyin 1 Voice-f14 on credit is robbin 1 next year's crop . (Over) �18 Voice 5 Life is short and Voice, 1 De cow-bell can 1 t keep a secret . Voiee#2 Little flakes make de deppest snow. Voice 3 De crawfish in a hurry look like he tryin' to git dar y Voicel/4 Be drinks so much whiskey that he staggers in his sleep. Voice 5 In God we trust , all others cash. Narrator Yes I was lyric-wise . You heard me everywhere . You even heard me coming from the ·swollen lips of the bugle, French horn, trumpet , clarinet and saxophone. Horn A series of short riffs and movements exemplary and ±llustrative of various forms of Afro-American music played between the advent of the spirituals and the ragtime-blues period. Narrator In Paris they called the "Cakewalk'' the '1poetry of motion. tt In the crevices of ships I was transported to global points to make me splendid sound and dance my splendid poetry of motion. Dancer Executes a series of movements and steps representing such dances as the Cakewalk, Charleston, the ,Two~~tep, Jitterbp g and t he Bop . Elerr:ents of West Indian dances should flavor movements . (over) �19 Narrator As the poem I blue horns, shot guns in your Virst World War, danced dances and came home to face the Ku Klux Klan, Southern Sheriffs and Jim Crow. I got Angry . And I got defiant . But , I was relatively cool. Voice( serious) Into the furnace let me go alone; Stay you without in terror of the heat . I will go naked in-:e-:fior -.thus 'tis sweet-- . Into the weird depths of the hottest zone. Voice(serious but resolute and emerging) Desire destroys , consumes my mortal fears , Transforming me into a shape of flame . I will come out, back to your world of tears , A strongger soul within a finer frame . (McKay') Narrator From the dark tower I watched as I 1 pr.~para~, ~.Matcb.ed ·as I prepared, watched as I pre pared, knowing that f.We :were not made eternally to weep . Voice(reflective, meditative) The night whose sable breast relie~es the stark White stars is no less lovely being dark, And there are buds that cannot bloom at all In light, but crumple , piteous , and fall; So in the dark we hide ,t he heart ~. that bleeds , And wait , and tend our agonizing seeds . (Cullen) Narrator After race riots in several American cities , I lifted my voice in a searing shaft o~ discontent . Chorus 0 kinsmen! we must meet the common foeJ (over) 11 �20 Voice Like men we•l1 face the murderous , cowa~dly pack , Pressed to the wall, dying, •• Chorus(slowly and softly) Dying ••• dying ••• dying Voice ••• but fighting back! (M.~~,) Narrator All the while my past kept pulling on me . It was if we were married to each other, glued, locked, welded together. It was as if those who departed never really, really died. An African sense kept tugging tugging at my truncated »oot-s . The bridge of my dwarf-like past . rested on at least two shores. Voice Pour o pour that parting soul in song, O pour it in the sawdust glow of night, Into the velvet pine-smoke air to-night, ••• Chorus(slow and echo-like) And let the valley carry it along . And let the valley carry it along . (tG'onte~) Narrator(confused and desperate} Sometimes I was only half-there , fighting those who wanted to snatch away my humanity by day; and fighting hunger and confusion at home by night . As the poem, I emerged convoluted and wholly new, only to ·)retreat to a some-other-time refrain. Egypt, Ghana, Madagascar, the Pyramids-- Voodoo Ceremonies--what did they all mean ito me? The beauty- pain of it all? Chorus Come with a blast of trumpets , Jesus I (over) �21 Voice(o.:xymoronic) And the beauty of Susanna Jones in red Burns in my heart a love-fire sharp like pain. Chorus weet silver trumpets , Jesust ()\~3~8SJ V'oice Well , son, I'll tell you: Life for me ain't been -no crystal stair. (Hughes) Narrator But the blur of that veil was always tempora~t ly relieved by song, by dance , by reading mr thinking about foreign places and looking forward to the day when Americans would grow up . e were here--in America-- but not of it . Simply worrying, without a plan to change things , didn't help much. We grew stronger, and more beautiful, in tha words of Langston Hughes , as we re-embraced our own rituals . Ch orus(singing and jiving) Shake your brown , feet, honey , Shake your brown feet , chile , Shake your brown feet, honey, Shake em swift and wil 1 - Voice Get way back, honey, Do that low-down step. Walk on over, darling, Nowt Come out With your left . (Hughes) Voice (breaking the fun-frolic' and wanng serious) Yet do I marvel at this curious thing: To make a poet black, and bid him (over} singt ~ vlle~ �22 Narrator Yet must I marvel that I 1 m here at all . Because during the watering years , after the GREAT DEPRESSION, my .. existence was seriliously threatened by lynching and at atmosphere of intimidation. I went to war, as poem and soJ:.dier and cook and shining knight of DEMOCRACY! The SWASTIKA, i:che ISING SUN, The HAMMER & SICKLE, I was told, were my L enemies . wen Dodson and I grew accustomed to the Meanwhile you had named me realities of neighborly enemies , Those who caused UNNATURAL DEATHS . Voice(preaching a funeral sermon) Wake up , boy, and tell me how you died : What sense was alert last, What immediate intuition about m You clutched like a bullet when your nails Dug red in your yellow palm And that map the fortunetellers read Chorus ( this line for money, this for love} ' Voice Uhi.ldish ag~in- ~d.2meared. • • Chorus Wake up , boy • • • Voice • •• I go to death tomorrow, Tell me what road you took, ••• Cho rps What hour in the day is luckiest? Voice Did your Adams apple explode? Who sewed stitches in your angry heart?(O. (over) �23 Chorus 0 wake ••• Narrator Yes, yes , • • • I was sometimes a tattered and beaten poem in the nineteen Thirties, Forties and Fifties . But I was a poem anyway: Gracious, Noble , ·Fundamental , Fiery , Firm, Relating to ;r on ~ of Wtllkb- Common Ground. Someone cal led me Margare ~ eople 11 I became a Tapestry y Many Selves . Voice/11 For my people everywhe:t9'8 singing their slave songs repeatedly; Voice#2 • • • their dirges and their ditties and ~heitb~-.S and jubilees , Voice 3 • • • praying their prayers nightly to an unknown god, Voice#l • • • bending their knees humbly to an un/seen power; Voice#2 • • • washing/ironing cooking scrubbing sewing mending plowing/digging planting pruning patching dragging along never gaining never reapi ng nev er . lmowing and neve~ understand/tng; Voice#) For my playmates in the clay and dust and sand of Alabama backyards playing • • • Voice#l Voice#2 preaching and••• (over) hoeing/ �24 Voice 3 doctor and •• • Voice#l jail and ••• Voice 2 soldier and • . • Voice 3 school and • ••• Voicefl mama and/cooking and playhouse and concert and store and/hair and Miss Choomby and company; Voice#2 For the cramped bewildered yearS' we went to school to learn to know the reasons why and the answers to and the people who and the places where and the days when , in memory of the bitter hours when we discovered we were black and poor and small and different and nobody cared and nobody wondered and nobody understood; Voice 3 For the boys and girls who grew in spite of these things to be . 1__. . . man and woman, to laugh and dance and sing and play and drink their wine and religion and success, to marry their playmates and bear children and then die of consumption and anemia and lynching; Voice 1 For my people thronging 47th Street in Chicago and Lenox Avenue in New York and Rampart street in New Orleans , ••• Voice 2 ~or my people blundering and groping and floundering in the (over) �25 dark of chnrche and schools and clubs and societies , as - sociations and councils and committees and conventions , distressed and disturbed and deceived and devoured by money-hungry glory-craving leeches, preyed on by facile force of state and fad and novelty , by false prophet and holy believer; Voice#) Let a new earth rise . Let another world be born. Let a bloody peace be written in the sky, Voice#J,. • • • Let a second generation full/ of courage issue forth; Voice 2 • • let a people loving freedom come/ to growth . Let a beauty full/ of healing and a strength of f inal clenching be t he pulsing in/ our spirits and<OU.r blood. Voice 3 • • Let the martial songs be written , let the dirges . dis/ appear • Chorus (strongly) • • • Let a race of men now rise and take contro l. M• .Walker) Narrator rank Marshall Davis , Melvin Beaunorous Jolson, terling Brown, Robert Hayden, Paul Vesey, Bob Kaufman, Georgia Douglas t Johnson, Russell Atkins , Leadbelly, Ligb.tnin 1 Hopkins--these are names by which my voice is known . Some even call me by the name of (whispering) HISTORY . Chorus(rising from whispers) Histocy! History! History! RunagateJ RunagateJ Runagatel Voice Runs falls rises stumbles on from darkness into darkness and the darkness thicketed with shapes of terror (over) �26 and the hunters pursuing and the hounds pursuing and the night cold and the night long and the river tocross and the jack-muh-lanterns be ckoning beckoning and the blackness ahead and 'Wb.en shall I reach that somewj):ere morning and keep on going and never turn back and keep on going ••• Chorus(frightened) Runa gatel Eun.agate! Runagatet Voice Some go weeping and some re j oicing ~ome in coffins and some some in silks and some in shac kles Oh that train, ghost-story t r ain through swamp and savanna move r ing movering over trestles of dew, through caves of the wish, Midnight Special on a sabre track movering moveFing , first stop Mercy and the last Hallelujah. Voice Come ride- a my train . Chorus Mean mean mean to be free . (R. Hayden) Narrator I 'ecame a brilliant word-torch shining back against my past and flaming proudly into the future . All the while I wormed into and won hearts and minds . And in 1950, America gave me the coveted Pulitzer Prise . My name was Annie A1len but I was rnsny people . I was so finely sculpted that no inflection was imprecise. I said what I had to say in a language that dazzled and bl inded the world. I stood as a jewel; I talked about a jewel named "Satin-Legs Smith . 11 (over) �27 Voice(as othe~s look on admiringly) He wakes, unwinds, elaborately. a cat Tawny, reluctant, royal. He is fat And fine this morning. Definite. Reimbursed. He waits a momemt, he designs his reign, That no performance mp.y be plain or vain Then rises in a clear delirium. Voice Let 1.~us proceed. Let us inspect, together i th his meticulous and serious love, The unnards of this closet. Which is vault 'Whose glory is not diamonds, not pearls, Not silver plate with just enough dull shine. But wonder suits in yellow and in wine, Sarcastic green and zebra-striped cobalt. i th shoulder padding that is wide And c cky and determined as his pride; Ballooning panms that taper off to ends Scheduled to choke precisely. Voice Here are hats Like bright umbrellas; and hysterical ties Like narrow banners for some gathering war.(G. Narrator Yes, I was immaculately Black. Magnificently Black. And I knew the power of the Rapl Chorus Ament (over) �28 Narr.a tor I became the power of the Rap! Chorus Amen! Voice Bartender, make it straight and make Voice(p6inting) one for the you in me••• Voice(pointing) • • and the me -:in you. (11. Tolson) Narrator After lengthy conversations with my musio, I became the Be-Bopper; somebody called me the Zoot-Suiter; I put on. dark glasses and conked my hair. A double-chinned ~alesman handed me some bleaching cream and a cadillac as I sped North' to join my brothers and siste~s in the .romised Lan Richard Wright and James Baldwin cried for me. John Oliver Killens Heard The Thunder and Ralph Ellison called me Invisible, adding that once rrry leaders ~.e goded the riddle of my style and my rap they could help me save me. Black, I left a Whi e country to fight Yellow men in Korea. Ella, Miles, Monk, Billie, Prez, Chano Pozo, Ornette, Coltrane--they went to war with me. Chorus Good Morning heartachet(sung) How do you do.(said) Horn Medley of tunes and musical mannerisms reminiscent of the period. Narrator I got hip to world events, science and space exploration. I knew wh~ I knew, still I couldn I t go where r wanted to go, or dO what I wanted to do. Arneric~· got nervous whenever I appeared in public. But I knew (over} �29 certain events and developments were dooming all of us t .o an • "Ultimate Reality . 11 Voice You know, Joe, it's a f\u.:;my thing, Joe, You worry most of your life about me, Always afraid I 1 11 get a job with you, Always scared I might get served with you, Always afraid I'd wanna love1your 0r that she might love me Voice Don ,t want me to eat with you, Voice S ared I might live next to Voice But with the Atom Bomb, Joe, It looks like I might die with you . Voice That don:t:p I seem right , does it, Joe? (Ray Durem} Narrator But inspite of all the adversity, the historical strengths kept returning to me, shoring me up , helping me to feep getting up , to keep going. We had our persona] victories in the meantime . We learned everything that it too~ to make it in America, even when no one would let us have equipment or space to work in. We just reached back inside ourselves and crune up with what was needed. Then__;one day, the poem became a baseball in the hands of the legendary Leroy Satchel Paige . Voice Sometimes I feel like I will never stop Just go forever (over) �30 Till one fine mornin• I'm gonna reach up and grab me a handf'ulla tars Swing out my long lean leg And whip three hot strikes burnin• down the heavens And look over at God and say How about thatl(S. 1lav) Narrator Style has always been my signature . So it was not a surprise that I returned to myself in motion. Behold! The tr.oil! Chorus Sings a t,ortion of Gene Chandler ts 11 Duke of Earl" or some other period piege . Narrator The Kansas City Slopt The Madison! · Chorus Sings Jportion of the Five Satins• song from period. n±n the Still of the Night" or another Narrator The Twist! Bri,ef exerpt from Chubby Checker's "Twist" . Narrator The Funky Chicken! The Karate Boogaloot They saw me poeting with my hips and my feet . Chorus PoetingJ Poetingf Narrator And took it all back to American Bandstand and other countries . Voice(singing) There ' s a thrill upon the hil11 Chorus ( singing2 Let's Go! Let's Go! Let•s Go! (over) �Narrator I eaina home from Korea to meet the Klan in a new sheet. And in Montgome;ey they would not let my mother sit down on a bus. As a poem, my name became Lance Jeffers, Raumond:· Pa:tterson, G.C. Oden,Mari Evans, LeRoi Jones and Imamu Amiri Baraka, Audre Lorde. Chorus(questioningly) Montgomery? Montgomery? Montgomery?. • I remembeF Montgomery. Voice And Birmingb.am--the fo~.-~ little, little girls. Voice Four little girls Who went to Sunday School that day And never came back home at l all-Voice But left instead Th~ir blood upon the wall With spattered flesh And bloodied Sunday dresses Scorched by dynamite that hina made aeons ago llirtl not know' .what 6hina made Before China was ever Red at all Would redden with their blood This Birmingham-on-Sunday wall. Four tiny girls Who left their blood upon that wall, InJ littlet g:ra..ves l today await (over) �32 Voice The dynamite that might ignite The ancient fuse ' of Dragon Kings Whose tomorrow sings a hymn, The missionaries never taught In Christian Sunday School To Implement the Golden Rule . Voice Four little girls Might be awakened someday soon By songs upon the breeze Voice As yet unfelt among Magnolia .o:U.. trees. C~v&,es) Voice And Selma! Voice And Phiiadelphia, Mississippi! Voiee(vaguely , hesitatingly) I recollect Emmett Till Voice 1lnd Watts J Narrator My Name was Conrad Kent Rivers at that time . I became a poem called "Watts , " hoping that in such disguise I could find my way out of this daily nightmare . Voice Must I shoot the white man dead to free the nigger (ever) �33 in his head? Voice(pausing, musing) Must I shoot the white man dead to free the nigger in his head? (t •'--' \\Jl~9 Voice And Newarkl Voice And Harlem! Voice And Oakland! Voice And Dallas! Voice And East St . Louis I Voice And Chicago f Voice M' rtin iuther Kingt Voice Malcolm! Voice Stokley! Voice H. .ap Brown! Voice James Bro'WI'l I (over) �34 Narrator Drumbeats enflamed ·tb.ev sky. Liberation became lilyupassionate preoccupation. A warm self- love engulfed me . My woman and I looked at each oth~ through. new-old eyes . We had our ow.n standard of beauty. I stretched and ya-wned and walked around in my own neighborhood. My ~o l or felt good and healthy to me . It looked good to me in the mirror of my Brothers' eyes . Someone called me Black and I didn't hit him. At a rally, I turned into a voice on the podium shouting. Chorus WE ARE AN AFRICAN PEOPLE! Drummer & Dancer Salute the ~oming of the new consciousness with appropriate nee - African rhythms and movements Voice For all things ~lack and beautiful, The brown faces you loved so well and long , ' the endless roads leading back to Harlem. Chorus Kulu Se Mama l Kulu· Se Mama! Kulu Se Mama! Kulu Se Mama Voi ce 1 Where the string At 1...> Some umbilical jazz, Voice#2 Or perhaps , In memory, A long lost bloody cross , Buried in some steel calvary. (over) �35 Voice#3 In what time For whom do we bleed, Lost notes, from some jazzman 1 s Broken needle . VoiceH=4 Musical tears from lost Eyes , Broken drumsticks , whyT Voice ;I.. Pitter patter, boom dropping Bombs in the middle Of my emotions Voice#2 My father ' s s ound Voiee#3 My mother's sound ••• Chorus Is ~love , Is life . (6,to.\)fi ~· Narrator I had watched America. I knew America I could deal with the difference and the sameness , that strange decorated pain that characterizes our existence . I keep coming back to the point of the sythesis and the symbiosis . I am history and future , or, put differently, I am future• history . Sometimes , because of my ma.ny: level fOf vision, I grasp the helm of the struggles of the many colored hands . I might even be in a river that laces the stomach of America. �36 Voice(with dance accompaniment} River of Time: Vibrant vein , Bent , crooked, Older than the Red Men Who named you; Ancient as the winds That break on your Serene and shini ng face; One time western boundary of America From WhQS~h~t'Your broad shoui ders now reach To touch sisters On the flanks . hl>~us River of Truth: Voice • • • Mornings You leap , yawn 2000 miles , And shed a giant joyous tear Over sprouting, straggling Hives of humanity; Nights you weep As the moon , tiptoeing Across your silent silky Face , hears you praying Over the broken backs Of black slaves who rode, rouched and huddled, At your heart in the bel lies Of steamships . (6 cer) �37 Chorus River of Memory. Voice Laboratory for Civil War Boat builders Who left huge . eyes of steel Staring from your sullen depths; Reluctant partner to crimes Of Ku lux Klanarnen; River mov:-ed to waves Of ecstasy By the venerable trumpet Of Louis rmst~ong . River of Bones: River of bones and flesh-Bones and flesh and blood; Voice The nation ' s largest Intestine And longest conveyer belt; Chorus River MISSISSIPPI : River of little rivers; River of rises , Voice Sometimes subdued By a roof of ice , descending finally On your outhward course over) �38 To . spit Into t:tie Gulf And join the wrath Of larger bodies.(Rea.mond) Narrator I mused over rivers and long-gone voices underneath rivers Soo, however, I turned to philosophy. In the spit and dart of my new self, there were utterances I had to make, blood-thoughts I had to share. I lmew this was another sequel to the dream. l had not believed those fairy tales. I needed to take a hand and stand and speak the ~ruth to the people Choru_s Speak the truth to the people! . Voice It is not necessary to green the Only to identify the enemy It is not necessary to blow the mind Only to free the mind. C}iorus It is thetotal black! Voi_ce It is the total black, being spoken From theear1lh. 1 s inside. There are· many kinds of open. How a diamond comes into t knot of flame How a sound comes into a word, colored By who pays what for speaking. Chorus Love is mother kind of openr(overJ �39 Voice As a diamond comes i to a knot of flame I am black because I come from the earth's inside Take my word for jewel in your open light . Narrator I am the ecstasy of NOW! 'fhe fullest realization of my Ancestors 1 wishes . I return , even in the alarm; even in the shadow-body I am often forced to wear . - But enough , enough--I beg you, my dear aqsociate s , look How on our~s and history's finest treasure . Voice(and dancer) I am a black woman the music of my song some sweet arpeggio of tears i_s writ ten in a minor key and I can be heard humming in the night Can be heard hunnning Chorus Hums first line of 11 No body nows the Trouble I See" Voice(continuing poem) in the night I saw my mate leap screaming to the sea and I/with these hands/cupped the lifebreath from my issue in tre canebrake I lost Nat's swinging body in a rain of tears and I heard my song scream all the way from Anzio for Peace he nevt:r knew. • • • I learned Da Nang and Pork Chop Hill in anguish (over} �Now my nostrils know the gas and these trigger tire/d fingers seek the softness in my warrior's beard I am a black woman tall as a cypress strong beyond all definition still defying place and time and circumstance assailed impervious indestructible Look on me and be renewed.(,., E\J~~ Look on me and be renewed. Look on us and be renewed . i'inis ��DRUMVOICES: THE MISSION OF AFRO-AMEIUCAN POETRY* A Readers Theatre/Ritual Drama By Eugene B. Redmond * Script Adaptation of DRUMVOICES: THE MISSION OF AFRO - AMERICAN POETRY (a critical history), by Eugene B. Redmond: Doubleday, 1976. Script copyright @ 1977 by Eugene B. Redmond - ./ . . �Note to Directors & Players DRUMVOICES, as a theatricalQcll·v'ff~;, follows ~ 1 ~ tradition of ritual theater or the "ri tuali zing"of an event . Ideally, for · Readers Theater, t~ ~.s:tase.~.a·re . should hav-e ~.;f>Q~~ cf.O~'tt:i.ro·~~~e,t .s ._pf,\,m-q,1 $,q 1':~ ' ~ds ··and ·a dsnce i· 'r'84o ~ince ritual theater is conceptually and practically adaptable to as few or as many players as are desired, directors/stagers should proceed accordingly. Ritual drama is also qualitative in terms of depth and meaning--that is it can be as deep or as light as one wants it. Hence , in preparing DRUMVOICES for the stage, directors should take pains to determine the levels of intensity or message-delivery tha-'b' tb&"'y 1 -~ "t'• These levels can be achieved and/or modified .from performance to performance by shifting (heightening or lessening) tone and thrust. Ideally, for DRUMVOICES, one drummer and one hom - player should make up the cast, along with at least one male and one female dancer. At the same ~time, owing to the flexibility and adaptability of ritual theater, directors may use as many dancers or musicians as are desired. The speaking cast should(preferably) consist of a three-member core-chorus. The core-chorus provides unison, harmony and call-and-response whi le at the same time suppiying the main individual voices. Set apart from the core-chorus is the narrator, who is atmospherically removed, somewhat dispassionate but omnipresent ·s a vast-voice image. Another voice, some distance to the other side of the core-cho rus is khown as a ralief-voice . This character/player can be made the focus of attention or go unnoticed while he/she slips into the audience , disappears to change clothes, or prepares for some sudden and surprise shift in the action o f the drama. • �1 Part I: Music & I The stage is bear except for music stands, a podium and the musicians' instruments . A log~ dancer appears, walks upstage and kneels in preparation for the ope:d~~ance-poem. 'rhe first sounds are heard off stage at which time the drumm.er and horn player come on stage an d situ ate themselves at their instruments . The dan c er begins to dance wh en the mus i ci ans are assembled. Voices(off-stage ) Music and I--Listenl--Yail Yail Listen to the sound of my homl Music and I--Listenl--Yail Yail Listen to the sound of my homl Music and I--Listenl--Yail Yail Voice(off-stage as dance begins) Listen to the sound of my horn•• • This note you have longed to hear! Voice/12 Listen to the sound of my song, I say, For _·the music you have hunn:ned by ear. Voice #3 I sound the time to rise for ' the fields . I moan the rhythm as the congregation lmeels . Voice#4. For I am the note of air, the catcher of your despair. Voice//5 I cry long nights for you my people. I rise early with my clay e d cotton coat . I tote water to sun-baked lips , Voice ,¥1 And I sing awa'f pain from your chain-whi pp e d hips. (oveu ) �2 Voice # 2 But now, my people, I've grown a new song. Listen, all ye Americans I Li sten with your ear: Voice#3 (walking upstate to position) Now the congre gation rises-Voice#4 (walking upsta ge to positi on ) Now the new corn sprouts-Voice#5 (wal king upsta ge to position) Now the air breathes f r esh -Voice#l(walking upsta ge to position ) Now t h e trodden land sings-Voi c e#2 (walking upstage to po sition ) Now my horn of clay airs a long signa l motif . Voi ce/!3 Listen to the sound of my h orn, my people . This rhythm of years long past . Voice#4 Listen to the sound of my horn , I say; Chorus(raising arms) Mus ic and I • •• have come a t last J( Durms ) (As voices expaode , dancer arid drUll11Jl!~r. Gpick un ,tempo; then dancer exits~ After a slight pause, narrator begins the on~stage r i t ual p ro gram . ) Narrat or I am the poem! We are the poem l Narrator And the poem is me t And t h e po em i s u s! And t h e poem is u s! And the poem is us f (over) �3 Narrator I run ~3 1 the poem and I cruae before pen ·or pencil or paper or printing presst I cupped and cuddled the wisdom of the winds in drum-bosoms of ecstasy. Drummer Performs a wide range of rhythms, movements , tones, multi ple-rhythms : African, West Indian, Afro- Latin, Afro - Ame r ican. Narrat or Listen! Listen closely and you can hear me, you can hear me writing in drum-langu age; you can h ear me conv~rsing with tomorrow, today and the heretofore. Chorus DRUMFEEI' ON THE SO IL, ON THE SANDROADS OF THE MIND I FLESH- PISTONS PRANCING, 'r HE EARTH I S ENGINE I IT IS A COMING FORTH, THE NI GHT WITHI N US COMING FORTH! THE NIGHT WITH I N US COMING FOR'r H 1 FEEr BEATI NG, BEATING, BEATING SEEDS INTO THE SOIL! Narra tor I return and return an d return to my magnifi cent and reliable archives. Chorus That l.ove we can depend on J That Love we can depend on! Voice ( singing; as ·danc er·s st!}:lR!"seareh.'.'the stage ),r:nt .: ONOBORO BO ! Ch orus ONOBORO BO ! Voice ONOBOROBo I Chorus ONOBOROBO I (over) �4 Voice ONOBOROBO ! Chorus ONOBOROBO t Narra tor In my dependable cultural vault is the Idea-gram: that natural cinetagraphy landscaped by thudding thoughts of my totem family , the living-dead, the breathing, the unborn. I am the poet ic flesh-temple with many forms, earthdaughter and agile inundator oP history . I am the poem in motion. Dancer Bxecutes rudimentary movements and other eleme nts of traditional African and nee -A frican dance: isolation, use of pelvis and tor s o, leaps, twirls, pulls , the Yanvalou(or a kindred movement} , vigorous stretches, lift s and thrusts. {Dr'-lm. accompaniment) Narrator I am the Black and Unknown Bard. American put me on a conveyer belt moving in two different directions at the same time . My African Jubi lance turned to anger and a song of sabotage. My IndomiLable Echo and Idion flavored my Indomitabl e Press to be Human . As a poem, I became part of what I did , saw and dreamed on these shores: Field Hollers, Vendors ' Shouts, Chants, Wo rk Song s , Spiritua ls , Blues , Gospels, Jazz, Rhythm-nBlues, Soul Music.( See attached cha rt of the preceding items : which ~e~!1- lustrated with short examples by voices after the list has been given .) Voice Did ye~ feed my cow? Voice Yes Manf Voice Will yer te·ll me how? (ov er) �- 4-A Field Hollers yodle •••• hey brother yodle •••• hey brother Vendors' Shouts watermellons, oh ••• sausages, oh ••• tomatoes, oh ••• I got 'em fresh ••• , ohl Chants Om-la-la Om-la-la Work Songs Say 1 1 m working hard on the chaingang Spirituals Ezekiel saw the wheel a-turning ( chorus ) · Way up in the middle of the air Blues Blood, lawd, blood all on the wall Gospels 0 ) happp: day _ 0 happy day When Jesus washed When Resus washed Washed all my sins away Jazz Riffs from Ike :Rhythm-and-Blues Will you still love me tomorrow? Soul Music I tm a soul man I 1m a soul man ... - �5 Voice Oh w1 at did yer give 1 er? Voice Cawn a.n hay! Voice Oh w•at did yer give 1 er? Voice Cawn an hay! Voice(looking up) Evahwhuh I, whuh I loolj: dis mawnin, Looks lak rain, looks like rain. Chorus Looks lak rain, looks lak rain! Voice I gotta. rainbow, tied all roun\ ma.h shoulder, Ain gonna rain, ain gonna rain . Chorus Dis is de hammer, Kilt John Henry! Voice(emphatically) Twon 1 t kill me, baby, 'l1won 1 t kill me. Take dis hammer, Carry it to de captain-Voice Tell him I'm gone, baby, Tell him I 1 m gone . ( OVEr ) �6 Chorus I got a rainbow Tied 1 roun my shoulder, Ain ' t gonna rain, baby, Ain 't gonna rain. Voice(work-song,sung) Dis ole hammer--huh!(chorus) Ring lak silver--huh!(chorus ) Shine lak gold--huhl(chorus) Chorus Ain't gonna rain J Ain't gonna rain! Voice(female) I 1 m a big fat mamma , got the meat shaking on mah bones, I ' m a bi g fat mamma , got the meat shaking on map. bones , And eve:rr.ry time I shakes, some skinny girl loses huh home . Voice Run, nigger run ; de patter-roller catch you; Chorus Run , nigger, run, it's almost day . Voice Run , nigger , run; de patter-roller catch you ; Chorus Run, nigger , run, and try to get get away. Voice Dis nigger run, he run his .best ,- •-· I Chorus Stuck his h ead in a hornet's nest,- Voice Jumped de fence and run fru the paste r; (over ) �7 Ch orus White man run, but ni gger run f a ster. Voice Dat nigger run, dat ni gge r flew,-Chorus Dat nigger tore his shirt in two. Narrator Yes , as poem, as cotton-pfucker, as banjo-player, as fiddle r, as preacher, as ili:dnstrel-maker and mirror, as slave-rebellion leader, I emered a ne'fl part of the old. My African song ushered forth in strange new Biblical Language . Voice(singing) Go Down, Moses, Way Down in Egyptland; Cho rus(talking~pointing) Te l l old Pharoah To let my people go. Voice(s!inging) Deep River ••• • Ch orus (talking) Deep Deep Deep River .. 0. Voice Deep River , my home is ove r Jordan; Deep River, Lord; I want to cross over into camp ground . Voice (exci t edly) And , yes, I DREAMED I was riding in that chariot . Cho rus(or Voice) Swi ng low, sweet ch ariot, Comin g for to carry me horr.e1 ( over) �8 Swing low, sweet chariot, Coming for to earry me home . Voice Green trees a-bending, Po ' sinner stands a-trembling The trumpet sounds within -a-my soul ; Chorus I ain I t got long to stay he re . Voice (male) Joshua fit de battle of Jericho,-- Jeri cho, Jericho-hG-ho-hol Voice Joshua fit de battle of Jericho ,-Cho rus And de walls came tumbling down . Voice Dat morning •••• Chorus And de: walls came tumbling down Voice My God is a rock in a weary lan 1 - Ch orus Weary lan 1 , weary lan 1 - Voice My God is a rock in a weary lan 1 - - Shelt er in de time of storm. Narrator I was Black and curious; I confronted harshness head-on; my struggle meant (over) �9 I had to learn to write like whites, even though ,Ironically, their laws Said I could be punished or jailed for possessing such knowledge and skill. Voice You named me : Lucy Terry I Voice Gustavas Vassal Voice Britton & Jupiter Hanmonl Voice Coon & Buck I Voice Phyllis Wheatley ! And I mastered Greek, Latin and English in rrry teens . Lonely Black girl whom the muses befriended, thousands and thousands of miles away from rrry West African home. I contimued to emerge as the poem. Voice Should you,my Lord, while you peruse my song, Wonde r from whence my love of Freedom sprung, Whence flow these wish es fort h e common good, By feeling hearts alone best understood, I, young in life, by seemin g cruel fate, snatched from Afrjc 1 s fancy 1 d happy seat; wti-~t pa.ng·s- ~xcruci~ting must mo+est, ~Jt.tD.t -.;··r~.. ~L J.~' , ✓-~1.:.:(" : _::. ·, - - ~-·~~( :.-;t,r.; · ,:.,t~·~· What sor~ows labour in my parents' breasts? Steel 1 d was that soul and by no misery mov 1 d ~~s l .~•-,< That from a father seiz 1 d his babe belov 1 d: Such, such my case. And can I then but pray Others may never feel tyrani c sway? (vJhfQtley) Narrator You named me George Moses Ho rton. I did not like the injustice (over) of the �10 double standard. And so I turned into a poem. Even though some continued calling me "The Slave." Chorus "Tha Slave"? Voice Because the brood-sow' s left side pigs were black, Whose sable tincture was by nature struck, Were you by justice bound to pull them back And leave the sandy-colored pigs to suck? (Horton) Chorus(ominously) Runagate! Runagatel Runa ga tel Runagate l Runagatel Narrator My mother cured ills and my father worked root-s. In the bi-cultural constriction the poem became j~ju-man , the face hidden by the ambiguous minstrel smile. Voice We have fashioned laughter Out of tears and pain; Bqt the moment after- Voice Pain and tears again.(Charles Bertram Johnson) Voice Forgive these erring people, Lord! Voip_e Who l ynch at home and love abroad.(~ D~) Narrator Still I wrote--this time just like I talked, though some made fun of it . But,as maker of song, I could only produce heart-rhythms. (over) �Voice 11 De Ounjah man, de Ounjah man , O chillen,run, de Gunjah man! Chorus 0 chillen , run, the Cunjah man! Voice Him mouf ez beez as fryin 1 pan; Voice Him yurs am small, him eyes run raid, -- Voice -- Him hab no toof een him ol 1 ha.id, Voice Him hab him roots , him wuk him tr.i. cks, -Voice Him r oll him eye, him mek you sick-Chorus De Cunjah man , de Cunjah man, O chillen run, de Cunjah manl(J . E.Campbell) Na rrator I knew my rights, my rougp times and my remedies . Voice (assuming tones reflB.oting physical ill n e a ses) Blue-mass , laudnum, liver pills , "Sixty-six, fo I fev er an ' chills , 11 Ready Relief , an' A. B. c . , An 1 half a. bottle of X. Y. Z. (J . W. Holloway) Narrato r You named me Frances El l en Watkins Harp er, James Edwin Campbell , James Weldon Johnson, Paul Lawrence Dunbar--Son of ex-slaves , elevator boy -· r i sen to brilliantbard of the race . As the poem I strode forth in sever al kinds of English. ( OVeJ? ) �12 Voice I know why the caged bird sings , Ah me, When his wing is bruised and his bosom soreyWh_en he be a ts his bars and he would be fr ee ; It is not a carol of joy or glee , But a prayer that he sends from his heart 's deep core, But a plea, that upward to Heaven he flings -I know why thecaged bir d sings l(Dunbar) Narrator Above all , song exudes from me . Indeed, I am song . Watch and examine me . My birthright is my anthem. My song is my sword. And I ~li ft that sword high! Voice( singing) Lift evff'y voice and s ing , Till earth and heaven ring, Ring with the harmonies of liberty. Chorus (talking, pointing upwards) Till our r ejo icings rise High as t he listening skies! (J . W. Johnson ) Narrato r As song-poem I _forged pure flames of rhythms without books . James Weldon Johnson called me the Black and Unknown gard. And, let me tell you something • •• :hmmrnmmmm • ••• I always loved to hear Ma lindy sing. Voice G1 way an 1 quit dat noise, Miss Lucy-Put dat music book away; What ' s de use to keep on tryin 1 f Ef you practise twell you're gray, You cain 1 t sta 1 t no notes a-flyin 1 Lak de ones dat rants and rings From de kitchen to de big woo ds (ovor ) �13 Chorus When Malindy sings . Voice You ain 1 t got de nachel o 1 gans Fu 1 to make de soun 1 come right , You ain 1 t got de tu 1 ns an 1 twistin 1 s fut to make it sweet an ' light . Tell you one thing now, Miss Lucy , An' I'm tellin ' you fu 1 true , When hit comes to raal ri ght singin 1 , Chorus IT ain 1 t no easy thing to do . Voice Easy 1 nough fu' folks to hollah, Lo okint at de lines an' dots , When dey ain 1 t no one kin senc e it , An ' de chune comes in, in spo t s ; But fu 1 real melo j ous music , Dat jes strikes yo 1 hea't and clings , Jes you stan 1 an ' listen wif me .Chorus When Malindy sings . Voice Ain 1 t you nevah hyeahd Halindy? Bl essed soul , tek up de cross I Look hyeah , ain 1 t you jo kin 1 , honey? Well, you don I t know what you lo s 1• Y1 ou ght to hyeah dat gal a-wa ,1 blin 1 , (over) �Robins, la 1 ks, an' all dem things, Heish dey moufs an' hides dey faces Chorus When Malindy sings. Voice#l Fidlin' man jes 1 stops his fiddlin 1 , Lay his fiddle on de she 1 f; Voice#2 :Mockin 1 -bird quit tryin' to -whistle, 1 0ause he jes so shamed hisse1_f. Voice#3 Folks a-playin 1 on de banjo Draps dey fingahs on de strings-Bless yo' soul--fu 1 gits to move 1 em, Chorus When :Malindy sings. Voice She jes 1 spreads hu mouf and hollahs, Voice( singing) "Come to Jesus, 11 Voice ••• twell you hyeah Sinnahs 1 tremblin 1 steps and voices, Timid-lak a-drawin 1 neah; Den she tu 1 ns to Voice (singing) "Rock of Ages, 11 Voice Simply to de cross she clings , (over) �15 An' you fin yo' teahs a-drappin 1 .Chorus When Malindy sings. Voice Who dat says de humble praises Wif de Master neva.h counts? Heish yo 1 mouf, I hyeah dat music, Ez it rises up an 1 mounts-Floatin 1 by de hills an' valleys, Way above dis burryin 1 sod, Ez hit makes its way in glory Chorus To de very gates of God, Voice Oh, hit ts sweetah dan de music Of an edicated band; An 1 hit's dearah dan de battle 's Song o 1 triumph in de lan•. Voi ce#l It seems holier dan evenin 1 When de solemn chu 1 ch bell rings , Voice #2 (slowly,searchingly) Ez I sit an I ca 1·m ly listen Chorus While Malindy sings . Voice Tows a.h;,, stop dat ba 1 kin, hyea.h me 1 Man~y, 1 :mek dat chile keep still; (over} �16 Don ' t you hyeah de echoes callin 1 F 1 om de valley to de hill? Let me listen, I can hyeah it , Th 1 oo de brash of angels' wings, Sof,_. and sweet, Voice#3 (singing ) •• o 11 swing . 1 ow , Sweet Chariot, 11 Voice(dreamily and ecstatically) Ez Mal indy sings . (Dunbar) Narrato r Poem that I was and am , I travel ed from "oasis to oasis . 11 Voice Man's Saharic up and down . ( M. B o Tolson) Narrato r Riverboats, river towns chaingangs • • • Voice(singing as chorus make s work - sounds in background) Well don ' t you know That's the sound of the men, working on the chain -n-n-n gan-ee - ang; We ll don 1 t you know That's the sound of the men , working on the chain gang . (Cooke) Narrator Bar-room toughs, hard-hearted Hanna, Stagolee • • • they all knew me . Voice Hard~hearted Hanna-Voice From Savannah, GEE A. Voice She was so cold, yall - Chorus Wasn ' t she I (over ) �17 Voice She ' d pour water on a dr owning man ! Cho rus(slowly and deliberately ) Water , on a drown-ii-nnng man. Voice(attracting the attenti on of oth ers) It was early one morni n 1 , When I h e a r d my bull dog bark ; Stagolee and Billy Lyons Was s quabli n 1 in the da r k . Voi c e Frankie and liohnny were l overs , Lordy , how they could love , Voi c e Swo re to each oth er , True as t h e stars up abo ve , Cho rus He was h er man but h e done her wrong . Voice ( f cmale ) Sh ine, shine , shin e , ••• save po ' me . Na rrator I was in the constant s e e - saw of life , wading thr ough h e ll in sea rch of h e aven. But I kept my working philosophy with me . Voice# l De stoppe r get de l ongest res t i n de emp ty jug . Vo i ce#2 De price o f you r h at ain't de measure of your brain. Voic et/3 De grav eya rd is de ch e apes 1 bo a rdin 1 -house . Vo i ceff4 Buyin 1 on cre di t is ro bbin ' next ye a r's c rop . Over} �18 Voice#5 Life is short and full of blisters. Voice #l De cow-bell can 't k eep a secret. Voice#2 Little flakes make de de~pest snow. Voice#3 De crawfish in a hurry look like he tryin 1 to git dar yesterday . Voicef/4 Be drinks so much whis key tha t he staggers in his sleep. Voice-#5 In God we trust, all others cash. Nar rator Yes I was lyric-wise. You heard me everywhere . You even heard me coming from the swoll en lip s of the bugle , French horn, trumpet , clarinet and saxophone . lio rn A series of short riffs and movements exempiary and illustrative of various forms of Afro-Ameri can mus ic played between the advent of the spirituals and the ra gtime-blues period. Narro.tor In Paris they calle d the "Cakewalk 11 the 11poetry of motion o" In the crevices of ships I was trans ported to global points to make me splendid sound and dance my splendid poetry of motion . Dancer Executes a series of movements and s teps r ep r esenting such dances as the Cakewalk , Charl es ton, the Two '- Step , Ji tterbµg and the Bop. i:!;lerehts of West Indian danc e s sl1ould fl avor mo vements. (over) �19 Narrator As the poem I blue horns, shot guns in your First World War, danced dances and came home to face the Ku Klux lClan , Southern Sheriffs and Jim Crow. I got An gry. And I got defiant. But, I was relatively· cool . Voice(serious) Into the furnace let me go alone; Stay you without in terror of the heat. I will go naked in-~for thus 'tis sweet- Into the weird d epths of the hottest zone. Voice(serious but resolute and emergin g) Desire destroys, consumes my mortal fears, Transforming me into a shape of flame . I will come out, back to your world of tears , A strongger soul within a finer frame . (McKay) Narra tor From the dark tower I watched as I pr.~pare9, Matched as I prepared, watched as I pre pared, knowing that !!We were not made eternally to weep . Voice(reflective, meditative) The night whos e s able b rea st r eli e v e s t h e stark White stars is n o l e ss l ov e l y being dark, And there are buds t hat c annot bloom at all In light , but crumpl e, pit eou s, and f a ll; So in the da r k we h ide the h e art t ha t bleeds , And wait, and t end our a gonizing seeds . (Cul1en) Na r rator After race riots in s ev e r a l American cities, I lifted my voice in a searing shaft of discon t ent . Chorus 0 kinsmen! we must meet the common foel (over) 11 �20 Voice Like men we 1 11 face the murderous , cowardly pack, Pressed to the wall , dying , ••• Ch orus ( slowly and softly) Dying ••• dying ••• dying Voice ••• but fight ing b a ck ! (M"'f-,-) Na r rator All the while my p a s t kept pu llin g on me . It was if we were married to each other, glue d, loc ke d , welded to gether. It was a s if those who dep art ed n ev e r r eally , really died . An African sense kept tugg ing tu gging a t my trunc a t e d roots . The bridge of my dwarf-lilte past rested on at le a st two shores . Voice Pour o pour tha t parting soul in song , O pour it in the s awdust glow of night , Into the velvet pins-smoke air to-night , ••• Chorus (s low and echo -li ke ) And l et the vall ey ca r r y it along . And l et the valley carry it along . (t6orner) Narrator ( confused and desperate ) Sometimes I wa s only half-the r e, fighting those who wanted to snatch away my humanity by day;and fi;jlting hunger and confusion at home by night. As the p oem, I emer ge d convo luted and who lly new, only to ,re treat to a some-other-time r e f r ain . ~gypt , Ghana, Mada gasca r, th e Py_ramids-- Voodoo Ceremonies--what d id th ey all me an -to me? The beauty-pain of it all? Chorus Come with a blast of trumpets, Jesus! (over) �21 Voice(oxymoronic) And the beauty of Susanna Jones in red Burns in my heart a love-fire sharp like pain. Chorus Sweet silver trumpets , Jesusl(}\~s~e..s) Voice Well , son , I ' ll tell you: Life for me ain ' t been no crystal stair . (Hughes) Narrator But the blur of that veil was always temporar-f.ly relie v ed by sorig , by dance , by reading or thinking about forei gn places and looki ng forward to the day when Americans would grow up . We were here - -in America- but not of it . Simply worrying, without a plan 1x> change things , didn ' t help much. We grew stronger, and more beautiful , in the words of Langston Hughes , as we re-embraced our own rituals . Ch orus ( singing and jiving) Shake your brown,feet, honey , Shake your brown feet , chile, Shake your brown feet , honey, Shake I em swift and wil' -Voice Get way back , honey , Do that low- down step. Walk on ove r, darling, Now ! Come out With your left . (Hughes) Voice (breakin g the fun-frolic and wa.ci..ng seriou s ) Yet do I marvel at this curious thing : To make a poet black,ond bid him (ov e r) singl (ev({erD �22 Narrator Yet must I marvel that I'm here at all . Because during the watering years, after the GREAT DEPRESSION, my existence was ser·i ously threatened by lynching and at atmosphere of intimidation. I went to war, as poem and soldier and cook and shining knight of DEi'10C RACY I The SWASTIKA , the RISING SUN, The HAMMER & SICKLE, I was to l d , were my REAL enemies. Meanwhile you had named me Owen Dodson and I grew accustomed to the realities of nei ghborly enemies: •rho se who caused UNNATURAL DEATHS. Voice(preaching a funeral sermon ) Wake up, boy , and tell me how you died : What sense was alert last , What immediate intuition about m You clutched like a bullet when your nails Dug red in your yellow palm And that map the fortunetellers read Chorus (this line for money , this for love) Voice Child.5.:sh ag~in and.smeared . • • • Chorus Wake up , boy . • •• Voice • • • I go to death tomorrow, Tell me what road you took , • • • Chory.s What hour in the day is luckiest? I Voice Did your Adams a pple explode? Who sewed stitches in your angry (over) heart?(O•Dad..S0'1J �23 Chorus 0 wake ••• Narrator Yes , yes, • • • I was sometimes a tatt e red and beaten poem in the nineteen Thirties , Forties and Fifties . But I was a poem anyway: Gracious, Noble, Fundamental, Fiery , Firm, Re lating to ~ People" Wttl~~ on ~uh Common Ground. Someone called me Ma r ga re1' I became a Tapestry of My Many Selves. Voice #l For my people~everywhere singing their slave songs repeatedly; Voic e#2 • • • their dirges and their ditties and theittbliueJ' and jubilees, . V oice il"3 • • • praying their p r ayers nightly to an unknown god, Voice#l • • • bending their lmee s humbly to an un/seen power; Voice#2 • • • washing/ironin g cooking scrubbing s ewing mending plowing/digging planting pruning patching dragging along never gaining never reaping neveF knowing and nev er understand/;i.'ng ; Voice #J For my playmates in the clay and du s t and sand of Alabama backyards playing • • • Voice #l 'bapti zi-ng : and ••• Voice#2 preaching and••• (over) hoeing/ �24 Voiceff3 doctor and ••• Voicef/1 jail and••• Voice;/2 soldier and••• Voicel/3 school and •• • • Voi ce,fl mama and/cookin g and playhouse and concer t and store and/hair and Miss Choomby and company ; Voic e/12 For the cramped bewildered year s we went to s ch ool to learn to know the reasons why and the answers to and the people who and the pla ces wh ere and the days when , in memory of the bitter hours ,men we discovered we were black and poor an d small and different and nobody cared and nobody wondered and nobody understood ; Voice 1f3 For the boys and girls who e;rew in spit e of th.e se t hings to be • ' .i man and woman, to laugh and dance and sing and play and drink their wine and relig~on and success, to marry their playmat es and bear children and then die o f consumption and anemia and lynching ; Voice//1 For my people thronging 47th Street in Chicago and Lenox Ave nu e in Ne w Yo r k and Rampart street i n New Orleans , ••• VoiceH-2 For my people blundoring and Groping nnd floundering in the (over) �25 dark of churches and s choo ls and clubs and societies , as sociations and councils and committees and conventions, distressed and disturbed and deceived and devoured by money-hungry glory-craving leeches, preyed on by facile force of state and fad and novelty , by false prophet and holy believer; Voice#) Let a new earth rise. Let another world be born. Let a bloody peace be written in the sky, Voice#). • • • Let a second generation full/ of courage issue forth ; Voice#2 • • • let a people loving freedom come/ to growth . Let a beauty full/ of healing and a strength of final clenching be the pulsing in/ our spirits and(our b lood. Voice#) • • • Let the martial songs be written, let the dirge s dis/ appear . Chorus ( st rongly) • • • Let a race of men now rise and take control . (M. Walker) Narrator Frank Marshall Davis, Me lvin Beaunorous ~olson , Sterling Brown , Robert Hayden, Paul Vesey, Bob Kaufman, Georgia Douglas ~ Johnson, Russell Atkins, Leadbel ly, Lic;l1tnin 1 Hopkins--these are names by which my voice is known . Some even call me by the name of (whisp ering) HISTORY . Chorus(rising from whispers) Histo!'1J History! History ! RunagateI Runagate l Runagate l Voice Runs falls rises stumbles on from darkness into darkness and the darkness thicketed with shap e s of terror (over) �26 and the hunters pu rsuing and the hounds pursuing and the ni ght cold and the nigh t long a nd the river tocross and the j ack - muh-l an t e rns beckoning beckoning an d the bl a ckn e s s ahe a d and when sha ll I reach th a t somewhere morning and ke ep on go i n g a nd ne v er turn back and keep on going••• Chorus ( frigh tened) Runagatel Runagatel Runagate l Vo ic e Some go weeping and s ome r ej oicing some in coffins an d s ome i n ca rriages some in s ilks and some i n sha ckl e s ••• Oh that train, ghost-story train through swamp and s avanna mov e r ing movering over trestl e s of dew, thro ugh c aves of the wish, Midnight Special on a sabre t r a ck mov e rin g movering, first stop Mercy and the l as t Ha ll e luj ah . Voice Come ride-a my t r a in. Chorus Me an mean me an to be fr c e .( R. Hayden) Na r rator I became a b r illiant word- tor ch shining back against my past and flaming proudly into the f u ture . All th e whil e I wormed into and won hearts and minds. And in 1950 , Ame ri c a gav e me the coveted Pulitzer Prise . My name was Annie A1len but I was man y peopl e . I was so finely sculpted that no inflection was imprecise . I sai d what I had to say in a language that dazz.led and blinded the world. I s tood as a jewel; I talk~d. about a jewel named "Satin-Leg s Smith." (ov er) �27 Voice (as othe.rs look on admiringly) He wakes, unwinds, elaborately: a cat Tawny, reluctant, royalo He is fat And fine this morning. Definite . Reimbursed. He waits a momemt, he designs his reigµ, That no performance m~y be plain or vain~ Then rises in a clear delirium. Voice Let .·us proceed. Let us inspect, together With his meticulous and serious love, The unnards of this closet. Which is vault Whose glory is not diamonds, not pearls, Not silver plate with just enough dull shine. But wonder suits in yellow and in wine , Sarcastic green and zebra-striped cobalt . With shoulder padding tha t is wide And cocky and determined as his pride; Ballooning panits that taper off to ends Scheduled to choke pre cisely . Voice Here are hats Like bright umbrellas ; and hysterical ties Like narrow banners for some gathering war . (G. Narrator Yes, I was immaculately Black. Magnific ently Black . And I knew the powe r of the Rap I Chorus Amen! (over) �28 Narrator I became the power of the Ra.pl Chorus Arnenl Voice Bartender, make it st rai ght and make it two- Voice(pointing) Otie for the you in me••• Voice(pointing) ••• and the me : ·in you. ( H . Tolson) Narrator After lengthy conver sations with my music , I became the Be - Bopper; somebody called me the Zoot-Suite~; I put on dark glasses and conked my hair. A double-chinned salesman handed me some bleaching cream and a cadillac as I sped Horth to join my brothers and sisters in the Promised Lan d. Richard Wri ght ru1d James Baldwin cried for me . John Oliver Killens Heard The Thunde r and Balph Ellison called me Invisible , adding that once my leaders decoded the riddle of my style and my rap they could help me save me . Bla ck, I left a White country to fight Yellow men in Korea. El la, Miles, Monk, Billie, Prez , Chano Pozo , Ornette, Coltrane--they went to war with me. Chorus Good Morning heartache l(sung) How do you do . (said) Horn Medley of tunes and musical mannerisms reminiscent of the period. Narrator I got hip to world events , science and space exploration . I knew wh~ I knew, still I c ouldn 1 t go where I wanted to go, or d() what I wanted to do . Americ~ got nervous wheneve r I ap peared in pub lic . But I knew (over) �29 certain events and deve lo pments were do oming all of us to an "Ultimate Reality . " Voice You know, Joe, it 1 s a fup.ny thin g, Joe, You worry most of your life about me , Always afraid I'll get a job with you, Always scared I mi ght get served with you, Always afraid I'd wanna love your sister Or that she might lov e me. Voice Don~t want me to e a t with you, Voic e Seared I mi gh t live n ext t o you-- Voi ce But with the Atom Bomb, J oe, It looks li k e I mi ght di e with you . Voice That don 1 t:seem ri ght , does it, Joe?( Ray Durem) Na rrator But inspite of all the a dversity , the hi sto rical s tren gths kept returning to me , shoring me up , helping me to ~eep getting u p , to keep going. We had our persona] victories in the meantime . We learned everything that it too~ to make it in America , even when no one would let us have equipment or space to work in . We jus t reached back inside ourselves and crune up with what was needed. Then one day , the poem becrune a baseball in the hands of the legendary Leroy Satchel Paige . Voic e Sometimes I feel li ke I will never stop Just go on forever ( over) �30 Till one fine mornin 1 I'm gonna reach up and grab me a handfulla stars Swing out my long lean leg And whip three hot strikes burnin 1 down the heavens And look over at God and say How about thatt(S. Allep) Narrator Style has always been my signature. So it was not a surprise that I returned to myself in motion . Behold! The 8troll! Chorus Sings a porti on of Gene Chandler I s "Duke of Ea rl II or some other period pie~e. Harrator The Kan sas City Slop! 1he Madison! Chorus Sings J ·portion of the Five Satins 1 song fr om period. 11 ±n the Still of the Nigh t" or another Narra tor The Twist! Bri•ef exerp t from Chubby Checker's 11 •rwist 11 • Narrator The Funky Chicken! The Karate Bo ogalool They saw me poeting with my hips and my feet. Chorus Poeting l Poetingl Narrator And took it all back to Ameri can Bandstand and other countries . Voice(singing) There's a thrill upon the hill! Chorus(singi ng) Let 1 s Gol Let's Go! Let 1 s Go! (over) �Narrator I oatne home from Korea to me et the Klan in a new sheet. And in Montgomepy they would not let my mother sit down on a bus. As a poem, my name became Lance Jeffers, Raymond Patterson, G. C. Oden,Mari Evans, LeRoi Jones and Imamu Amiri Baraka, Audre Lorde. Cho rus( que stionin~ly) Montgomery? Montgomery? Montgomery? • • • I remember Montgomery . Voice And Bi rmingham--the fo\l \f' little, little girls . Voice Four little girls Who went to Sunday School t h at day And never came back home at all-Voic e But left instead Their blood upon the wall With spattered flesh And bloodied Sunday dre s ses Scorched by dynamit e tha t Ghina made aeons a go Dfufi not know' 'What Chi n a ma de Before China was eve r Re d at a l l Would redden with the i r blood This Birmingham-on-Sun day wall. Four tiny girls Who left their blood upon th a t wall , In1; li ttle ;, gra.ves l today await (over) �32 Voice The dynamite that might ignite The ancient fuse of Dragon Kings Whose tomorrow sin~s a h~nn The missionaries never tau ght In Christian Sunday Scho o l 'r o Implement the Gol den Hu le. Voice Four little girls Might be awakened someday soon By songs upon the breeze Voice As yet unfelt among Magnolia trees. (t.\v&>EJ') Voice And Selma I Voice And Philadelphia, Mississippi! Voi ce(vaguely, hesitatingly) I recollect Emmett Till! Voice Jind Watts! Narrator My Name was Conrad Rent Rivers at that time . I became a poem called "Watts, 11 hoping that in such disguise I could find my way out of this daily nightmare . Voice Must I shoot the white man dea d to free the nigger (Over) �33 in his head? Voice(pausing, musing) Must I shoot the white man dead to free the nigger in his head? (t 1~\"t\-Jtf'~ Voice And Newark I Voice And Harlem! Voice And Oakland t Voice And Dallas t . Voice And East St. Louis! Voic e And Chicago I Voice Martin ~uther King! Voi ce Malcolm! Voice Stokley! Voice H. itap Brown ! Voice James Brown I (over) �Narrator 34 Drumbeats enflamed the " sky . Libe ration became ltl.y.Jpassiona.te preocoupation. A warm self-love engulfed me . My woman and I looke d at ea.ch othor through new- old eyes . We had our own standard of beauty. I stretched and yawned and walked around in my own neighborhood. My ~olor felt good and heal thy to me . It looked good to me in the mirror of my Brothers' eyes . Someone called me Black a.nd I didn't hit him. At a rally, I t u rned into a voice on the podium shouting. Chorus WE ARE AN AFRICAN PEOPLE l Drummer & Dancer Salute the coming of the new consciousness with appropriate nee - African rhythms and moveme nts. Voice For a.11 things Plack and be autiful , The brown faces you loved so well and long , the endless roads leading back to Harlem. Chorus Kulu Se Mamal Kulu Se Marna! Kulu Se Marna! Kulu Se Mama Vbice #l Where the string At i , Some umbilical jazz, Voice if2 Or perhaps, I n memory, A long lost bloody cross, Buried in some steel calvary. �35 VoiceJJ In what time For whom do we bleed, Lost notes , from some jazzman 1 s Broken needle . Voice,¥4 Musical tears fro m lost Eyes , Broken drumsticks , whyT Voicet/-1 Pitter patter, boom dropping Bombs in the middle Of my emotions Voicerf2 My father ' s s oun d Voice/13 My mother's sound • • • Cho rus I s love , Is life . (O,to.\)rlt\0-Vl} Narrator I had watched America . I knew Ameri c a . I could deal with the diff e r ence • and the samene ss, that stran ge de cora t ed pain that character i zes our existence . I keep coming b ac k to the point of the sythes i s and the symbiosis . I am history an d fut ure, or , put differently, I am fu ture• history . Sometimes, because of my many levels · of vision, I grasp the helm of the stru8g]e s of the many colored hands . I might even be i n " a river that lac es the stoma ch of Ameri ca . �36 Voice(with dance accompan i ment) River of Time : Vibrant vein, Bent , crooked, Older tha.n the Red Men Who named you; Ancient as the winds That break on your Serene and shining face; One time western boundary of America From whDJ,tr.eehlet', Your broad shoulders now r each To touch sisters On the flanks. -Ch orus River of Truth : Voice • • • Mo rnings You lea.p, yawn 2000 mil e s, And shed a gi ant joyou s tear Over sprouting , straggling Hives of humanity; Nigh ts you we ep As the moon , tiptoeing Across your silent silky Face, hears you prayin g Over the broken backs Of black slaves who rode , Grouched and hudd led, At your he a rt in the belli e s Of ~teamship s . (6cer) �37 Chorus River of Memory: Voice Laboratory f or Civil War Boat builders Who left huge eyes of steel Staring from your su l len depths; Reluctant partner to crimes Of Ku Klux Klansmen; River moved to waves Of ecstasy By the venerable trumpet Of Louis Armstron g . River of Bones: River of bones and flesh-Bones and flesh and blood; Voice The nation ' s l a r ge st Intestine And longest conveyer belt; Chorus River MISSISSIPPI: River of little rivers; River of rises, Voice Sometimes subdued By a roof of ice , descendine finally On your Southward course �38 To . spit Into the Gulf And join the wrath 0 f large r bodie s . ( He dmond ) Nar r a tor I mused ov er riv ers and long- gone voic es underneat h rivers. Soon, however, I turned t o philosophy . In t he sp it and da rt of my new self, there were utterances I ha d to make , blo o d- thoughts I had t o share. I lmew this was another s equel t o the dream. I h a d not believed those fairy tales . I needed :to take a hand and stand and speak the truth to the people . Ch orus Speak the truth t o the pe opl e! Voice It is not nec e ssary to g r e en t h e heart Only to identify the en emy It is not nec e ssary t o blow t he mind Only to free t h e mind. C}iorus It is thetotal black! Voi ce It is the total b l ack , bein g spok en From theearth 1 s inside. There are many kinds of open. How a diamond comes into t knot of flame How a sound comes into a word, colored By who pays what for s peaking. Choru s Love is another kind of op enw(over) �39 Voice As e. diamond comes ipto a kno t of flame I a.m black because I come from the earth 1 s inside Take my word for jewel in your open light. Na rrator I am the ecstasy of NOW! 'fhe fullest realization of my Ancestors' wishes. I return, even in the alarm; even in the shadow-body I am often forced to wear . But enough , enough--I beg you, my dear aijsociates, look How on our.1 s and hi story I s finest treasure. Voi ce(and dancer) I am a black woman the music of my song some sweet a rpe ggio of tears is written in a mino r key and I can be heard hummin g in the ni cJ:it Can be heard hummin g Chorus Hums first line of "lll o bocly .r,no ws the Trouble I See 11 Voice(cont inuing poem) in the night I saw my mate leap screaming to the sea and I/with these hands/cuppe d the lifebreath from my is sue in tre c ane brake I lost Nat ' s swinging body in a rain of tears and I heard my song scream all t he way from Anzio for Peace he n ever> kn ew. • • • I learned Da Nang and Pork Cho p Hill in anguish (over) �40 Now my nostrils lmow the gas and these tri gger tire/d fin gers seek the softness in my warrior ' s beard I am a black woman tall as a cypress strong beyond all definition still defying place and time and circumstance assailed impervious indestructibl e L0ok on me and be renewed .(M, E)JOJ'lS) Ch orus Look on me and be renewed. Look on us and be renewed. lHnis ��DRUMVOICES : THE MISSION OF AFRO-AMERICAN POETRY* A Readers Theatre/Ritual Drama By Eugene B. Redmond * Script Adaptation of DRUMVOICES : THE MISSION OF AFRO - AMERICAN POETRY (a critical history}, by Eugene B. Redmond: Doubleday, 1976. Script co pyright@ 1977 by Eugene B. Redmond .. ;,.' y �Note to Directors & Players DRUMVOICES, as a theatricalQcllJa-1, follows ~ 1 ~tradition of ritual theater or the "ri tuali zing"of an event. Ide ally, for Readers Theater, th.~-~-s:tage_·· ia.'rea should bav,e ~;i'G>'Ql!l i:.fo~-::tl!fo·--:s~ts -.~ r~·.=.-mll$i:~ T-1:!~imds ·and ·a dance i~r0-4QSince ritual theater is conceptually and practically adaptable to as few or as many players as are desirea, directors/stagers should proceed accordingly . Ritual drama is also qualitative in terms of depth and meaning--that is it can be as deep or a s light as one wants it. Hence, in preparing DRUMVOICES for the stage, directors should t ake pains to determine the levels of intensity or message-delivery iha-t' t1:'fey i These levels can be achieved and/or modified .from performance to performance by shifting (heightening or lessening) tone and thrust. Ideally, for DRUMVOICES , one drummer and one horn -player should make up the cast, along wi th at least one male and one female dancer. At t~e same,time, owing to the flexibility and adaptability of ritual theater, direc t ors may use as many dancers or musicians as are desired. The speaking cast should( preferably) consist of a three-member core-chorus. The core-chorus pro vides unison, harmony and call-and-response while at the same time suppiying the main individual voices. Set apart from the core-chorus is the narrator, who is atmospherically removed, some-what dispassionate but omnipresent aa a vast-voice image . Another voice , some distance to th e other side of the core-ch orus is khown as a ralief-voice . This character/player can be made the focus of at tention or go unnotic ed while he/she slips into the audience , di sappears to change cloth es , or prepares for some sudden and surprise shift in the action of the drama. w~-t-. �1 Part I: Music & I The stage is bear exce pt for music stands, a podium and the musicians' instruments. A lou~ dancer appears , walks upstage and kneels in preparation for the opeJ~~ance-poem. 'r he first sounds are heard off stage at which time the drummer and horn player come on stage and situate themselve s at their instruments . The dancer begins to dan ce when the musicians are assembled. Voices(off-stage ) Music and I--Listenl--Yail Yail Listen to the sound of my hom l Music and I--List enl--Yail Yait Listen to the sound of my homl Musi c and I--Listenl--Yail Yai l Voice(off-stage as dan ce begi._ns) Listen to the sound of my horn• •• This note you have longed to hear! Voicef2 Listen to the sound of my song, I say, Fo'r :. ·the music you have hurm:ned by ear. Voice#3 I sound the time to rise for the fields. I moan the rhythm as the congregation kneels. Voice#4 For I am the note of air , the catcher of your despair. Voice#5 I c ry long nights for you my people . I rise early wi th my clayed cotton coat . I tote water to sun-baked lips , Voice #l And I sing awa" pain from your chain-whi ppe d hips . ( OVeII ) �2 Voice#2 But now , my people , I 1 ve grown a new song. Listen, all ye Americans! Listen with your ear: Voice#3(walking upstate to position ) Now the congregation rises-Voice#4(walking upsta ge to position ) Now the new corn sprouts-Voice#5 (walking upstage to positi on) Now the air breathes fresh-Voice#l(walking upstage to po si tio n) Now the trodden land sings-Voice #2 (walking upstage to positi on) Now my horn of clay airs a long signal motif. Voice/13 List en to the sound of my h orn , my people. Thi s rhythm of years long past . Voice#4 Listen t o the sound of my horn , I say; Chorus ( raising arms) Music and I ~•• have come at last J (Durm.s ) ( As voices expaade , dancer and drumm:~rcpi ck un .;t empo; t hen dancer e xits~ After a slight pause , narrator begins the on~ s tage ritu al program.) Narrator I am the poem! We a r e the po em ! Narrator And the poem is me! And the poem is us! And the poem is usl And the poem is us! (over ) �3 Narrator I am the poem and I ca.me before pen ~or pencil or paper or printing press• 0a l I cupped and cuddled the wisdom of the winds in drum-bosoms of ecstasy. Drummer Performs a wide range of rhythms, movements , tones, multiple-rhythms: African, West Indian, Af ro-Latin, Afro-American. Narrator Listen! Listen clo se ly and you can hear me, you can hear me writing in drum-language; you c an h ear me conv~rsing 'With tomorrow, today and the heretofore. Chorus DRUMFEEr ON THE SO IL , ON 'r HE SAND ROADS OF THE MIND I FLESH-PISTONS PRANCIN G, 'r HE EAH'l'H I S ENGINE I IT IS A COMING FORTH, THE NI UHT WITHIN US COMING FORTH ! THE NIGHT WITHIN US COMING F'OR'rH I FEEr BEATING, BEATING, BEAT I NG SEEDS INTO THE SOIL l Narrato r I return and return an d return to my magnificent and reliable archives . Chorus That 1.ove we can depend on J That Love we can depend onl Voice ( singing; as danceI!.'·s s _t_?ll!,.search .'.'the sta:ge }· 1:.t '0 ONOBOROBO I Chorus ONOBOROBO I Voice ONOBOROBo I Chorus ONOBOROBO ! ( over ) �4 Voice ONOBOROBO ! Chorus ONOBORO BO ! Narrator In my dependable cultural vault is the Idea-gram: that natural cinetagraphy landscaped by thudding thou ghts of my totem family, the . living - dead, the breathing, the unborn. I am the poeti c flesh-temple with many f orms, earthdaughter and agile inundator o, history . I am the poem in motion . Dancer Executes rudimenta r y movements and other elements of traditional African and neo-Afric an dance: isolation, use of pelvis and torso, leaps, twirls , pulls , the Yanvalou( or a kindred movement) , vigorous stretches, lifts and thrusts . {Dr.um accompaniment) Na rra tor I am the Black nnd Unknown Ba rd . American put me on a conveyer belt moving in two different directi ons at the same time . My African Jubilance turned to anger and a song of sabotage . My Indomi~able Echo and Id.ion flavored my Indomitabl e Press to be Human . As a poem, I became part of what I did, saw and dreamed on these shores: Field Ho llers , Vendors' Shout s , Chants, Work Song s , Spirituals , Blues , Go spels, Jazz , Rhythm-n Blues , Soul Music . ( See attache d cha rt of the preceding item~ : which ~e~i1 - lustrated with short examples by voices after the list has been given .) Voice Did y e~ feed my cow? Voice Voice Will y er te·ll me how? (ov er) �4-A Field Hollers yodle •••• hey brother yodle •• • • hey brother Vendors' Shouts watermellons, oh ••• sausages, oh ••• tomatoes, oh ••• I got 'em fresh ••• , ohl Chants Om-la-la Om-la-la Work Songs Say I•m "WOrking hard on the chaingang Spirituals Eze~iel saw the wheel a - turning( chorus) · Way up in the middle of the air Blues Blood, lawd, blood all on the wall Gospel s 0 1 happ'J day . 0 happy day When Jesus washed When Resus washed Washed all my sins away Jazz Ri fls from Ike Rhythm- and-Blues Will you still love me tomorrow? Soul Music I •m a soul man I ' m a soul man - �5 Voice Oh w1 at did yer give 1 er? Voice Cawn an hay! Voice Oh w1 at did yer give 1 er? Voice Cawn an hay! Voice(looking up) Evahwhuh I, whuh I loolj: dis mawnin, Looks lak rain, looks like rain. Chorus Looks lak rain, looks lak rain! Voice I gotta rainbow, tied all rount mah shoulder, Ain gonna rain, ain gonna rain. Chorus Dis is de hammer, Kilt John Henry l Voice(emphatically) Twon't kill me, baqy, Twon 1 t kill me. Take dis hammer, Carry it to de captain-Voice Tell him I'm gone, baby, Tell him I'm gone. �6 Chorus I got a rainbow Tied 1 roun my shoulde r, Ain't gonna rain, baby, Ain 1 t gonna rain. Voice(work-song,sung) Dis ole hammer--huhl(chorus) Ring lak silver--huh!(chorus) Shine lak gold--huhl(chorus) Ain 1 t gonna rain J Ain~t gonna rain! Voice(female ) I 1 m a big fat mamma , got the meat shakin g on mah bones , I'm a bi g f at mamma, got the meat shaking on m.a..p. bones, And evmry time I shakes, some skinny girl loses huh home . Voice Run, nigger run; de patter-roller catch you; ~un , nigger, run, it 1 s almost day . Voice Run, nigger, run; de patter-roller catch you; Chorus Run, nigger, run, an d try to get ge t away . Voice Dis nlgger run, he run h i s best ,-- Stuck his head in a hornet ' s nest, -Voice Jumped de fence and run fru the p a ster; (over) �7 Chorus White man run, but ni Q;ge r run f a ster. Voic e Dat nigger run, dat ni gge r flew,-Chorus Dat nigger tore hi s shirt in two. Narrator Yes, as poem, as cotton-picker, as banjo-player, as fiddler, as preacher, as ,m instrel-maker and mirror, as slave-rebellion leader, I emered a new part of the old. My 4frican song ushered forth in strange new Biblical Language . Voice( singing ) Go Down , Moses , Way Down in Egyptland; Chorud(t alking ~pointing) Tell old Pharoah To let my people go. Voice ( s~mging) Deep Ri. ver •••• Chorus ( talking) Deep Deep Deep River •• 0. Voice Deep River, my home is ove r Jordan ; Deep River, Lord; I want to cross over into camp ground . Voice (excitedly) And , yes , I DREAMED ! was riding in that chariot . Chorus(or Voice) Swing low, sweet chariot, Coming for to carry me hoill:31 ( over) �8 Swing low, sweet chariot, Coming for to earry me home . Voice Green trees a-bending, Po' sinner stands a-trembling The trumpet sounds within-a-my so ul; Chorus I ain't got long to stay here . Voice (male) Joshua fit de battle of Jericho,-- Jericho, ·J ericho-hG-ho-ho ! Voice Joshua fit de battle of Jericho ,-Chorus And de walls came tumbling down . Voice Dat morning •••• Chorus And de: walls came tumbling down Voice My God is a rock in a weary lan' -Chorus Weary lan', weary lan 1 - Voice My God is a rock in a weary lan'-- Shelter in de time of storm. Narrator I was Black and curious; I confronted harshness head-on ; my struggle meant (over) �9 I had to learn to write like whites, even thougp.,Ironically, their laws said I could be puni she d or jailed for possessing such knowledge and skill . Voice You named me:Lucy Terry I Voice Gustavas Vassal Voice Britton & Jupiter Hamm.on ! Voice Coon & Buck I Voice Phyllis Wheatley! And I ma stered Greek , Latin and English in my teens . Lonely Black girl whom th e muses befriended, thousands and thousands of miles away from my We st African home. I contim.ued to emerge as the poem. Voice Should you , my Lord, while you peruse my song, Wonder from whence my love of Freedom sprung, Whence flow these wish es fort he common good, By feeling hearts alone best understood, I, young in life, by seeming cruel fate, ~as snatched from Afric 1 s fancy 1 d happy seat; wJia:. t pang· ~x~ruci~ting must ·,-;;:-. molest, , ~Jt1D. t -~:-•r,.·: ~ J--, ,r, 1..:.:(i :.::. -, - · 1 :•·,# ·; ·:, '~• What sorrows labour in my pa rents' breasts? Steel 1 d was that soul and by no misery mov 1 d •N•( That from a father seiz 1 d his babe belov 1 d: Such , such my case . And can I then but pray Others may never feel tyranic sway? (wheQ1tey) Narrator You named me George Moses Horton . I did not like the injustice (over) of the �10 double standard. And so I turned into a poem. Even though some continued calling me "The Slave." Chorus "Tha Slave"? Voice Because the brood-sow 1 s left side pigs were black, Whose sable tincture was by nature struck, Were you by justice bound to pull them back And leave the sandy-colored pigs to suck? (Horton) Chorus (ominously ) Runagate! Bunagatel Runagatel Runagatel Runagate! Narrator My mother cured ills and my father worked roots . In the bi-cultural oonstriction the poem became juju-man , the face hidden by the ambiguous minstrel smile . Voice We have fashioned l aughter Out of tears and pain; Bqt the moment after-Voice Pain and tears again.(Charles Bertram Johnson) Voice Forgive these erring people, Lordi Voip_e .. Who lynch at home and love abro a d . ( ~ D ~ ) Narrator Still I wrote--this time just like I talked• though some made fun of it. But,as maker of song , I could only produce heart-rhythms . (over) �Voice 11 De Ounjah man, de Ounjah man , 0 chillen,run, de Cunjah man ! Chorus 0 chi ll en , run, the Cun jah man! Voice Him mouf ez beez as fryin' pan; Voice Him yurs am small, him eye s am raid,-Voice -- Him hab no toof een him 01 1 haid, Voi ce Him hab him roots , him wuk him trick s, -Voice Him roll him eye, him mek you s ick-Chorus De Cunjah man, de Cunj ah man, O chillen run, de Cunjah man!(J . E. Carnpbell) Na rrat or I knew my rights, my rough times and my remedies. Voice(assuming tones reflaoting physical illneases) Blue-mass, laudnum, liver pills , "Sixty-six, fo I fev er an I chi lls, 11 Ready Relief, an 1 A. B. c ., An' half a bottle o f X. Y. Z.(J. W. Ho J.loway ) Narrator You named me Frances ~llen Watkins Har p er, James Edwin Campbell, James Weldon Johnson, Paul Lawrence Dunbar--Son of ex-slaves, elevator boy , risen to brilliantbard of the race . As the poem I strode forth in several kinds of English. (over· ) �12 Voice I know 'Why the caged bird sings, Ah me, When his wing is bruised and his bosom soraT Wh.en he beats his bars and he would be free; It is not a carol of joy or glee, But a prayer that he sends from his heart's deep core , But a plea, that upward to Heaven he flings -- I know why thecaged bir d s ings! (Dunb~r} Na rra tor Above all, song exudes from me . Indeed, I am song . Wat ch and examine me. My birthright is my anthem. Hy song is my sword. And I : lift that sword high I Voic e (singing) Lift evfry voice and sing , Till earth and he aven ring, Ring with the harmonies of liberty . Chorus(talking, pointing upwards) Till our rejoicings rise High as the listening skies!(J . W. Johnson) Narrato r As song-poem I forged pure fl ames of rhythms without books. James Weldon Johnson called me the Black and Unknown Bard. And, let me tell you something ••• h.mmmmmmm ••• • I always loved to hear Malindy sing. Voice G 1 way an 1 quit dat noise, Miss Lucy-- Put dat music book away; What's de use to keep on tryin 1 Y Jf you p ractise twell you're gray, You cain•t sta•t no notes a-flyin' Lak de ones dat rants an d rings From de kitchen to de big woods (over} �13 Chorus When Malindy sings. Voice You ain't got de nachel o 1 gans Fu• to make de soun 1 come right, You ~in 1 t got de tu 1 ns an ' twistin 1 s fu • to make it sweet an• light . Tell you one thing now , Mi s s Lucy, An' I'm tellin' you fu 1 t rue, When hit comes to raal right singin •, Chorus T ain't no easy thing~to do . 1 Voice Easy 1 nough fu 1 folks to hollah , Lookin 1 at de lines an ' dots , 'When dey ain ' t no one kin sence it , An' de ch une comes in , in spots ; But fU 1 real melo jous music , Dat jes strikes yo 1 hea 1 t and clings, Jes you stan' an ' lis ten wif me .Chorus When Malindy sings. Voice Ain 1 t you nevah hyeahd Ma lindy? Bl esse d soul , tek up de cros s! Look hyeah, ain ' t you jo kin ' , honey? Well, you do n't know what you los• . Y1 ought to hyeah da t gal a -wa .1 blin 1 , (ov er) �14 Robins, la 1 ks, an 1 all dem things, Heish dey moufs an 1 hides dey faces Chorus When Malindy sinEs• Voice//1 Fidlin 1 man jes 1 stops his fiddlin 1 , Lay his fiddle on de she 1 f; Voice#2 Mockin 1 -bird quit tryin 1 to whistle , 1 6ause he jes so shamed hisse1.f. Voice#3 Folks a-playin 1 on de banjo Draps dey fingahs on de strings -Bless yo' soul--fu' gits to move 1 em, Chorus · When Malindy sings . Voice She jes' spreads hu mouf and hollahs, Voice( singing) "Come to Jesus, 11 Voice ••• twell you hyeah Sinnahs 1 tremblin 1 steps and voices, Timid-lak a-drawin 1 neah; Den she tu 1 ns to Voice(singing) "Rock of Ages, 11 Voice Simply to de cross she clings, (over) �15 An 1 you fin yo 1 teahs a-drappin' .Chorus When Malindy sings. Voice Who dat says de humble praises Wif de Maste r nevah counts? Heish yo 1 mouf, I hyeah dat music , Ez it rises up an 1 mounts-1loatin1 by de hills an 1 valleys, Way above dis burryin I sod, Ez hit makes its way in glory Chorus To de very gates of God~ Voice Oh, hit 'e sweetah dan de music Of an edicated band; An 1 hitfs dearah dan de battle's Song 0 1 triumph in de lan 1 • Voice#l It seems holier dan evenin 1 When de solemn chu 1 ch bell rings, Voice #2 ( slowly,s earchingly) Ez I sit an 1 ca 1mly liston Chorus While Malindy sings . Voice Towsah,, stop dat ba 1 kin, hyeah me! Man~y, 1 .m.ek dat chile keep still; (over) �16 Don't you hyeah de echoes callin 1 F 1 om de valley to de hill? Let me listen, I can hyeah it , Th 1 oo de br~sh of angels ' wings , So f', and sweet, Voice #3(singing ) •• o 11 swing · 1 ow, Swee t Chariot ," Voic e (dreamily and ecstati cally) Ez Malindy sin gs .( Dunbar ) Narrator Poem t hat I was and am, I t r a veled from "oasis to o asis." Voice Man 's Saharic up and down. ( H . B . Tolson ) Narrator Riverboats , river towns chaingangs ••• Voice(singing as cho r us makes work-sounds in background ) Well don't you know That's the sound of the men, working on the chain-n-n-n gan-ee-ang; Well don't you know That 's the sound of the men, working on the chain gang . (Cooke) Narr ator Bar-room toughs, hard- hearted Hanna , Stagolee ••• they all knew me. Voice Hard•ha arted Hanna-Voice From Savannah, GEE A. Voice She was so cold, yall -Chorus Wasn 1 t she 1 (ov er ) �17 Voice She ' d pour water on a drowning man! Chorus(slowly and deliberately ) Wate r, on a drown- ii-nnng man. Voice(at t racting the attention of others) It wa s early one mornin•, When I heard my bulldog bark ; Stagolee and Billy. Lyons Was s quab lin' in the dark . Voice Frankie and Hohnny were lov ers , Choru s Lordy , how they could love , Voice Swore to each other , True as the stars up abo ve , He wa s h er man but he done her wrong . Voice(femal e) Shine, shine, sh ine, ••• sav e po ' me . Narrato r I was in t h e constant see -s aw of l ife , wading t hro u gh h ell in search of heaven. But I kept my working philo sophy wi th me. Voi c e#l De stopp er get de longest rest in de empty j ug . Voice#2 De price of your hat ain ' t de measure of your b rain. Voicei/3 De graveya rd i s de cheapes 1 boar din 1 -house . Voiceff4 Buy in _ on credit is robbin 1 next year ' s crop. (Over) 1 - ---- ._ �18 Voice#5 Life is short and full of blisters. Voice#l De cow-bell c an 1 t k eep a secret. Voice#2 Little flakes make de def:)pest snow. Voice#3 De crawfish in a hurry look like he tryin 1 to git dar yesterday. Voice,'/4 Be drinks so much whiskey that he stae;gers in his sleep. Voice#-5 In God we trust, all others cash. Narrator Yes I was lyric-wise. You heard me everywhere . You even heard me coming from the swoJ.len lips of the bugle, French horn, trumpet, clarinet and saxophone. Horn A series of short riffs and movemen ts exempJ.ary and illustrative of various forms of Afro-American music p l ayed between the advent of the spirituals and the ragtime-blues period. Narrator :i;n Paris they called the "Cakewalk 11 the 11poetry of motion o II In the crevices of ships I was transported to global points to make me splendid sound and dance my splendid poetry of motion . Dancer Executes a serie s of movements and step s representing such dances as the Cakewalk , Charleston, the Two'-Step, Ji tterbµg and the Bop . Blen:e:ht.s of West Indian dances should flavor movements . (over) �19 Narrator As the poem I blue horn s , sho t guns in your First World War, danced dances and came h ome to face the Ku Klux Klan, Southern Sheriffs and Jim Crow. I got Angry . And I got defiant. But , I was relatively· cool. Voice (s erious) Into the furnace let me 80 alone; Stay you without in terro r of the heat. I will go naked in-:-for thus 'tis sweet -Into the weird depths of the hottest zone. Voice ( serious but resolute and emerging) Desire destroys, consumes my mortal fears , Transforming me i nto a shape of flame . I will come out, ba ck to you r world of tears, A strongger soul within a f iner frame.( McKay) Narra tor From the dark tower I wat che d as I p:r.~pare<)., .watched as I prepared, watched as I pre pared, knowing that ·!!We were not made eternally to weep . Voice(reflective, medita tive) The night whose sable breast relieves the stark White stars is no less lov e ly being dark, And there are buds that c annot bloom at all In li ght , but crumple , piteous , and fall; So in the dark we hide the hea r t that bleeds , And wait, and tend our agonizing seeds .( Cullen) Narrator After race riots in several American citi e s , I lifted my voice in a searing shaft of discontent. Chorus 0 kinsmen! we must meet the common foel (over) 11 �ao Voice Like men we'll face the murderous , cowardly pack , Pressed to the wall, dying , ••• Ch orus ( slowly and softly) Dying ••• dying ••• dyin8 Voice ••• but fi ghting b a ck I (M."'r(°'t) Na r rato r All the while my p a st kept pu lling on me . It was if we were married to each other, glue d, l o cke d , welde d to gether. It was as if tho se who dep arted n ev e r re ally , really died . An African sense kept tugging tugging a t my trunc a t e d ro ot s . 'rl1e br i dge of my dwar f -lilte past rested on at le a st t wo shore s . Voi c e Pour o pour th8 t pa r ti n g s oul in so n g, O pour it in t he s awdust glow of ni gh t , Into th e velvet pine- smo ke air to-ni ght , ••• Chorus(slow and echo -li ke ) And l et the valley carr y it along . And l et the valley ca rry it along . (t6'omer) Na rrator(confus ed a nd desperate) Sometimes I was only ha lf - t here , fightin g those who wanted to snatch away my humanity by day;and f'i [sh tin g hun ger and confusion at home by night . As the poem, I emer ge d convo luted and wholly new, only to ,, retrea.t to a some-othe r-time refrain. ~gyp t , Ghana , Madagasc a r, the Pyramids- - Voodoo Ceremonies--what did they all mean ,to me? The beauty- pain of it all? Chorus Come with a blast of trumpets , Jesus ! (over) �21 Voice(oxymoronic) And the beauty of Susanna Jones in red Burns in my heart a love -fire sharp like pain. Chorus Sweet silver trumpets, Jesust<)\~s~as) Vo ice Well , son , 1 1 11 tell you: Life for me ain 1 t been no crystal stair.(Hughes) Narra tor But the blur of that veil was always temporaFtly relieved by song, by dance, by reading or thinking ab out foreign places and looking forward to the day when Americans would grow up. We were here --in America-but not of it . Simply worrying, without a p lan to change things, didn 1 t help much. We grew stronger , and more beautiful, in the words of Langston Hughes , as we re-emb raced our own ritun.ls . Chorus(singing and jiving) Shake your br01m. , feet, honey , Shake your brown feet, chile , Shake your brown feet, honey, Shake ,J em swift and wil' -Voice Get way back, honey , Do that low-down step 0 Wal,k on over,darling, Now! Come out With your left. (Hughes) Voice(breakin g the fun -frolic and wanng serious) Yet do I marvel at this curious thing : To make a poet black,and bid him sing l~v(le~ (over) �22 Narrator Yet must I marvel tha t I' m here at al l. Be cause during the watering years , after the GREAT DEPRESSION , my existence was seriously threatened by lynching and at atmosphere of intimidation. I went to war, as poem and s oldi er and cook and shining knight of DEMOCRACY ! The SWASTIKA, 'rhe RISING SUN , The HAMMER & SICKLE, I was told, were my REAL enemies. Meanwhile you had n amed me Owen Dodson and I grew accustomed to the realities of nei ghborly enemie s, 'rhose who caused UNNATURAL DEATHS . Voice(preaching a funeral sermon) Wake up, boy , and tell me how yo u died : What sense was alert last , What immediate intuiti on about m You clut ched like a bullet when your nails Dug red in your ye llow pa lm And that map the for tunetell e r s read Cho rus (this line for mon ey , this for love) Voi ce Uh.ildish ag~in - a~d.imeared . • • • Cho rus Wake up , boy . ••• Vo ice • • • I go t o death tomorrow, Tel l me what ro a d you took , • • • What hour in the day is luckiest? Voice Did your Adams apple explode? Who sewed stitches in your angry (over) heart?(O.Dod,.so.-,J �23 Ch orus 0 wake•• • Narrator Yes, yes, • • • I wa s sometime s a tatt e red and beaten poem in the nineteen Thirties, Forties and Fifties. But I was a poem anyway: Gracious, Noble, Fundamental, Fiery, Firm, Relating to ;~ People" W~L~ on ~ur Comm,o n Ground. Some one cal led me Margare1t I became a Tapestry of My Many Selves. Voice#l For my people , everywhere singing their slave songs repeatedly; Voi ce#2 • • • their dir ges and the i r ditti es and theifll:•~~J' and jubile es, • • • praying the ir pray ers ni ghtly to an unknown god, Voice#l • •• bending their knees humbly to an un/seen power; Voice#2 • • • washing/ironin g cooking scrubbing sewing mending I i i & hoeing/ plowing/digging planting pruning patching dragging along never gaining never reaping never !mowing and never understand/fng; Voice#J For my playmates in the clay and du s t nnd sand of Alabama backyards p laying • • • Vo i ce #l 't>aptizing :,and • •• Voic e//2 preaching and••• (over) �24 Voiceff3 doctor and ••• Voicei/1 jail and • •• Voice-/12 soldier and••• VoicelfJ school and • •• • Voice,IJ. mama and/cooking and playhouse and concert and store and/hair and Miss Choomby and company; Voice#2 For the cramped bewildere d y ears we went to school to learn to lmow the r easons why and the answers to and t h e people who and the places whe re and the days when, in memory of the bitter hours ,m en we discovered we were black and poor and small and different and nobody cared and nobody wondered and no bo dy underst ood; Voice1f3 For the boys and girls who grew in spite of these things to be • • .1 man and woman, to l o.u gh and dance and sing and play and drink their wine and religion and success , to marry their playmates and bear children and then die of consumption and anemia and lynching; Voi ce-//1 For my people thronging 47th Street in Chicago and Lenox Avenue in New York and Rampart stre et in New Orleans , ••• Voice-H2 For my people blund oring und (j ro ping and floundering in the (over) �25 dark of churches and schools and clubs and societies , associations and councils and committees and conventions, distressed and disturbed and deceived and devoured by money-hungry glory-crav ing leeches, preyed on by facile force of state and fad and novelty, by false prophet and holy believer; Voice#) Let a new earth rise . Let another world be born. Let a bloody peace be written in the sky , Voice#l. • • • Let a second generation full/ of courage issue forth ; Voice//2 • • • let a people loving freedom come/ to growth. Let a beauty full/ of healing and a strength of final clenching be the pulsing in/ our spirits and(OUrblood. Voice /1-3 • •• Let the martial songs be written , let the dirges dis/appear . Chorus (strongly) • • • Let a race of men now rise and take control.( M. Walker) Narrator ~rank Marshall Davis , Melvin Beaunorous ~olson , Sterling Brown , Robert Hayden, Paul Ve sey, Bob Kaufman, Georgia Douglas~ Johnson, ~ussell Atkins, Le a db elly, Livitnin 1 Hopkins--these are names by which my voice is known . 0ome even call me by the name of (whispering) HISTORY . Chorus(rising from whispers) History I History 1 History 1 Runagate 1 Runagate I Runagate l Voice Runs falls rises stumbles on from darkness into darkness and the darkness thic keted with shapes of terror (over) �26 and the hunters pursuing and the hounds pursuing and the night cold and the night long a nd the river tocross and the j a ck - mul~-lanterns beckoning beckoning and the blackness ahead and when shall I reach that somewhere morning and keep on go in g and never turn back and keep on going ••• Chorus(frightened) Runagatel Runagatel Runagate l Voice Some go weeping and some rejoicing some in coffins and some in carriages some in silks and some in shackl es ••• Oh that train, ghost-story train through swamp and savanna mov c ring movering over trestles of dew, thro ugh c aves of the wish, Midnight Special on a _sabre track movering movering, first stop Mercy and the last Hallelujah . Voice Come ride - a my train. Chorus Mean mean mean to be free .( R. Hayden) Narrator I became a brilli~t word-torch shining back against my past and flaming proudly into the future . All the while I wormed into and won hearts and minds. And in 1950 , America gave me the coveted Pulitzer Prise . My name was Annie A1len but I was many people . I was so finely sculpted that no inflection was imprecise. I said what I had to say in a language that dazzled and blinded the wo rld. I stood as a jewel; I talk~a abou t a jewel named "Satin-Le gs Smith . 11 (over) �27 Voice(as others look on admiringly ) He wakes, unwinds, elaborately: a cat Tawny , reluct ant, royalo He is fat And fine thi s morning . De finite . Reimbursed. He waits a momemt , he designs his reign , That no performance m~y be plain or vainp Then rises in a clear delirium. Voice Le t :·us pro c eed. Let us inspect , together Wi th his meti culous and serious love , The unnards of this closet . Which is vault Whos e glory i s not diamonds, not pearls , Not silver plate with just enough dull shine . But wonder suits i n y ellow and in wine, Sarcastic green an d zebra-striped cobalt . With shoulder padding t ha t is wide And co cky and det e rmined as his pride ; Ballooning pants that taper off to ends Sch eduled to choke precisely . Voice Here are hats Li k e bri ght umbr ellas; and hysterical ties Like narrow banners for some gathering war .( G. Narrator Ye s, I was immaculately Black . Magnificently Black . And I knew the powe r of the Rap I Chorus Amen! (over) �28 Narrato r I became the power of the Rap I Chorus Ament Voice Bartender, ma ke it strai ght and make it two- Voice (po in t ing ) One for the y ou in me ••• Voice (point ing ) ••• and the me : in you . (Iii . Tolso n) Narrator After lengthy conversat ions ~dth my music, I became the Be -Bopper; somebody called me the Zoot-Suiter; I put on dark gl a sses and conked my hair. A do uble-chinned salesman h anded me some bl ea ching cream and a cadillac as I sped Horth to join my brothers and s isters in the Promised Land. Richard Wright and James Baldwin cried for me . John Oliver Killens Heard ·r he Thunde r and Ralph Ellison called me Invisible, adding that once rrry leaders decoded the riddle of my style and my rap they could help me save me . Black, I left a White country to fight Yellow men in Korea. Ella, Miles , Monk, Billie, Prez, Chana Pozo, Ornette, Coltrane-- they went to war with me. Chorus Good Morning heartachel (sung) How do you do . (said) Horn Menley of tunes and musical mannerisms reminiscent of the period. Narrator I got hip to world events, science an d space explorat ion. I lmew wh~ I lmew, still I couldn 1 t go where I wanted to go , or dQ what I wanted to do . Americ~ got nervous whenever I appea red in public . But I knew ('over ) �29 certain events and developments were dooming all of u s to an "Ultimate Reality. 11 Voice You know, Joe, it I s a fupny t h ine;, Joe , Yo u worry most of your life about me , Always afraid I ' ll ge t a job with you , Always scared I mi [Jlt ge t s e rv e d with you , Always afraid I ' d wlill na l ove your sister Or t h at she might love me . Voice Don ·~t want me to e a t with you , Voice Seared I might live next t o you -- Voice But with the Atom Bomb , Joe, It looks li k e I might die with you . Voice That don 1 t :seem ri c;ht , does it, Joe?(Ray Durem) Na rrator But inspite of all the adversity , the hi s torical strength s kept returning to me , shoring me up , h elpi n g me to ~ee p get ting up, to keep going . We had our personal victori es in the meantime. We learned everything that it too~ to make it in America, even when no one would let us have equipment or space to work in. We just reached back insi de ours elves and came up with what was n ee ded . Then one day, the po em became a baseball in the hands of the legendary Leroy Sat chel Paige . Voice Sometimes I feel like I will never stop Just go on forever (over ) �30 Till one fine mornin' I'm gonna reach up and grab me a handfulla stars Swing out my long lean le g And whip three hot stri kes burnin 1 down the heavens And look over at God and say How about thatt(S. Allep) Na rra tor Style has always been my si ,snature . So it was not a surp ri se that I returned to myself in moti on . Behold! The St roll! Cho rus Sings a portion of Gene Chandl er I s "Duke of Earl" or some other period piece . Ha1·rato r The Kans as City Slop 1 l'he 1-Iadi s on I Sing s ¥- portion of t he Fi v e Satins 1 song f r om pe rio d . 11 ±n the Still o f the Night II or another lla rra t or The Twist! Bt~ef exerpt from Chubby Checker's "Twist" . Narrator The Funky Chicken I The l~arate Bo ogaloo I They saw me poeting with my hips and my feet . Chorus Poeting l Poetingl Na rra tor And took it all ·ba ck to Ame rican Bandstand and other countries . Voice( singing) There ' s a thrill upon the hill! Ch orus (singing~ Let 1 s Go! Let ' s Go! Let's Go! (over) �Narra tor I oame home from Ko re a to meet th e Klan in a new sheet. And in Montgome:ry they would not let my moth e r sit down on a bus . As a poem, my name became Lance J e ffers, Raymond Patterso n, G.C. Oden, Mari Evans, LeRoi Jones and Imamu Amiri Baraka, Audre Lo rde . Choru s ( ques tionin~ly) Montgomery? Montgomery? Montgome ry? • • • I remember Montgomery . Voic e And Birrningham--the f.o\l\" little, little girls . Voice Four little girls Who went to Sunday School that day And never came back h ome at all-Voice But left instead Their blood upon the wall With spattered fl esh And bloodied Sunday dr ess es Scorched by dynami te t ha t Ghina made aeons a go Dfutl not know' what China made Before China was eve r Re d at a l l Would redden with the ir blood This Birmingham-on-Sun day wall . Four tiny girls Who left their blood upon that wall, In.Jlittle ·. graves l today await (ov er) �32 Voice The dynamite that might i gnite The ancient fuse of Dragon Kings \\'hose tomorrow sings a hymn The missionaries never tau ght In Christian Sunday School 'E o Implement the Go lden Hu.le . Voice Four littl e girls Might be awakened someday so on By songs upon the bree ze Voi c e As yet unfelt among Magnolia trees. (t\v&ies) Voice And Selma! Voice And Phiiadelphia, Mi ssissippi I Vo ice(vaguely, hesitatingly) I recollect Emmett Till! Voice Jlnd Watts! Narrator My Name was Conrad Kent Ri v e rs a t that time . I became a poem called "Watts, 11 hoping that in su ch disgui se I could find my way out of this daily nightmare . Voice Must I shoot the white man dead to free the nigger (av er) �33 in his head? Voice( pausing, musing ) Must I shoot the white man dead to free the ni gge r in his head? Ct .~,l,-.;er9 Voice And Newark I Voi ce And Harlem! Voice And Oakland! Voice And Dallas! Voice And Eas t St . Louis! Voice And Chicago I Voice Martin ~uther King! Voice Malcolm! Voice Stokley! Voice H. flap Brown ! Voice James Brown I (over ) �Na r r ato r 34 Drumbeats en fla.me d the--., sky . Li be ration became ltl.y.;pas si onate preoccupation. A wa r m se lf-love engulfed me . My woman an d I look ed at each oth r t hrough n ew-old eyes. We ha d our own standard of b eauty. I st r etched and yawned and walke d aro und i n my own neighborhood. My ~olor felt good and healthy t o me . It loo ked good to me in the mi rror o f my Brothers'eyes . Someone called me Bl ack and I di dn I t h it him. At a r ally, I t urned into a voice on th e podium shouting. Chorus WE ARE AN AFRICAN PEO PLE! Drumme r & Dancer Sal ute the coming of t he new cons ciousn e ss wi th approp riate n eo-Afri c an rhythms and mov eme nts . Voice For all t h ing s Pl a ck and beautifu l , The b ro wn f a c e s you lov ed so well and long , th e endl e s s ro ads leading back to Ha r l em . Ch o rus Kulu Se Mama l Kulu Se Mama ! Kulu Se Mam.al Kulu Se Mama Vbice-#1 Where the string At : ) Some umbilical j a z z , Voice #2 Or perhaps , In memory, A long lo st bloo dy cross , Buried i n some steel c alvary . �35 Voice/13 In what time For 'Whom do we bleed , Lo st note s , from some j o. z zman ' s Broken n eedle . Voicet/4 Music al tears from lost Eyes, Broken drumsticks , whyT Voicer-Jl Pitter patter, boom dropping Bombs i n the middle Of my emotions Voic e11·2 My fath e r ' s s oun d Voi c e ,f3 My mo ther I s s ound ••• Chorus rs : love, Is life. (B' to.\)rtt\0-v.) Narr ator I had watched America . I knew Amer ica . I could deal with the difference and the sameness, that stran ge decora t ed pain that character izes our existence . I keep comi ng bac k to the point of the sythe sis and the symbio s is. I am history illL d futu re, or, put differently , I am future• history. Sometimes , because of my many levels · of vision, I grasp the helm of the strugg]es of the many colored hands . I might even be in ' a river th at lac es the stomach of Ameri ca. �36 Voice(with dance accompaniment) River of Time: Vibrant vein , Bent, c rooked , Older than the Red Men Who named you; Ancient as the win ds That break on your Serene and shining face; One t i me western bo undary of America From who.sercehTh~ Your broad shouide rs n ow r each To touch sisters On the flanks . Ch orus River of Truth: Voice •• • Mornings You leap, yawn 2000 miles , And shed a giant joyous tear Over sprouting , straggl ing Hives of humanity; Nigh ts you weep As the moon, tiptoeing Across your silent s i l ky Face, hears you prayin g Over the broken backs Of black s l aves who rode, Grouched and hudd led, At your he a rt in the belli e s Of steamshJ p s , (Ocer) �37 Chorus River of Memory: Voice Laboratory for Civil Wu r Boat builde rs Who left huge eyes of s te el Staring from your sullen dep t h s ; Re luc tant partner to crime s Of Ku Klux Klanamen ; River moved to wav es Of ecstasy By the venerable t rump e t Of Louis Armstron g . River of Bones: River of bones and fl esh -Bones and flesh an d blood ; Voice The nation's l argest Intestine And longest conveyer belt ; Ch orus River MISSISSI PPI : River of little rivers ; River of rises , Voi ce Sometimes subdued By a roof of ice, de sc endine finally On your Southward course �To . spit Into th e Gulf And join the wrath Of larger bodies . ( Hedmond ) Nar r a tor I mused ov er river s and long- gon e voic e s underne a th rivers . Soon, however, I turned to philosophy . I n l~he sp it and da rt of my new self, th e re were utterances I ha d to make , blood- thoughts I h a d to share. I lmew this was another se quel to the dr eam . I had not believed those fairy tales . I needed ;to tak e a hand a nd stand and s pe a k the truth to the peopl e . Chorus Speak the truth to the people! Voice I t i s not n e c essary to green the hea r t Only t o i denti fy the en emy I t i s not nec essary to blow the mi nd Only t o f r e e the mind . Crioru s It is the total bl ac k ! Voice It is the total black, bein g spoken From theearth 1 s inside . There are many kinds of open. How a diamond comes into t knot of flame How a sound comes int o a wo rd, colored By who pays what for s peaking . Chorus Love is another kind of open r (over) �39 Voi ce As a diamond comes ipto a knot of flame I am black because I come from the earth's inside Take my word for j ewel in your open li gh t . Narrator I am the e cstasy of NOW ! 'fhe fullest realization of my Ancesto rs 1 wishes . I return , even in the alarm; ev en in the shadow- body I am often forced to wear . But enough , enough - -I beg you , my d ear a~soc i ates , look How on our~s and history ' s finest treasure . Voice(and dancer) I am a black woman the music of my s ong some sweet a rp eggi o of t e a r s is wri t t e n in a mino r k e y and I can b e heard hummin g in t h e ni crit Can be heard h ummin g Ch orus Hums first line of 11 .1: obo dy .t,nows the Tro uble I See" Voice(continuing poem) in the n ight I saw my mate leap scre aming t o the sea and I / with these hands/cupped the lifeb rea th f r om my is sue in tre c ane brak e I lo st Nat ' s swin ging body in a rain of tears and I heard my song scream all t he way from Anzio f or Peac e he n eva-- kn ew • • • • I l ea rn ed Da Nang and Pork Chop Hi ll i n anguish ( o ver) �Now my nostrils know the gas and these tri gger tire/d fin gers seek the softness in my warrior ' s beard I am a black woman tall as a cypress strong beyond all definition s till defying place and time and circumstance assail ed i mper vious i ndestruc tib le L0ok on me and be renewed.(M, Evo.n!>) Chorus Look on me and be ren ewed. Look on us and be renewed. 11inis � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Eugene B. Redmond Digital Collection Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context EBRWritings_09_35 Title A name given to the resource First draft of Drumvoices: The Mission of Afro-American Poetry, A Readers Theatre/Ritual Drama, typed with handwritten edits, 1977 Relation A related resource Eugene B. Redmond Digital Collection Language A language of the resource English Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource For digital rights and permissions, see <a href="https://www.siue.edu/lovejoy-library/about/policies.shtml">https://www.siue.edu/lovejoy-library/about/policies.shtml</a> or contact <a href="mailto:library@siue.edu">library@siue.edu</a> for direct inquiries. In copyright. <a href="http://rightsstatements.org/vocab/InC/1.0/">http://rightsstatements.org/vocab/InC/1.0/</a> Type The nature or genre of the resource Text Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Redmond, Eugene B. Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1977