Susan Kelechi Watson, Crystal Dickinson, Lauren E. Banks, Adrienne C. Moore. (Photo: Julieta Cervantes)

The Blood Quilt

By Deirdre Donovan

Of all the productions opening this season, Katori Hall's The Blood Quilt at Lincoln Center best illuminates the African American experience. Under the direction of Lileana Blain-Cruz, this thousand-thread show, awash with 100 quilts and with exquisitely-limned characters, is a colorful addition to the current season.

The premise: set on the fictive island of Kwemera (it means "to last, to withstand, to endure"), off the coast of Georgia, the four Jernigan half-sisters gather at their childhood home to honor their recently deceased mother. When their annual quilt-making suddenly turns into the reading of their mother's will, the mood of the evening changes from warmly sentimental to coldly realistic.

To complicate matters further, they learn that their mother failed to pay her property taxes for seven years and accrued a debt of a quarter million dollars. As the four siblings face the truth that their mother's house "ain't worth the salt in cornbread," they talk about the possibility of selling the family quilts to pay off their mother's debts. But, before they can decide on this, each sister must reflect on what the quilts actually mean, not only to them, but society at large.

Adam Rigg's museum-worthy set looks like it is on loan from the Smithsonian. The country cabin is handsomely outfitted and well-constructed. But its most impressive feature is its 100 quilts, each as visually striking as a peacock fanning out its tail feathers. Some are hung on walls, others are strewn on chairs, couches, and beds. What's more, each patchwork quilt tells a piece of the Jernigan family story:  Grandmama Matilda sewed secret love messages to her sweetheart on another plantation; Uncle Charles, one of the greatest blacksmiths the Geechee Coast ever saw, donated a piece of his dungarees as a square; great-great-great-great grandmama Ada gave a block of quilt to each of her children sold into slavery.

The cast of The Blood Quilt (Photo: Julieta Cervantes)

If the quilts speak volumes about the clan's past, they also reveal the industriousness of the surviving Jernigan sisters. In fact, sibling rivalry temporarily goes on pause as Amber admiringly remarks to Clementine: "You still got those hands. Stitch so tight even wind can't whisper its way through."  Of course, the second-born and never-to-be-outdone Gio immediately pipes in: "I got fast fingers. They call me 20 stitch-a-inch Gio for a reason."

The ensemble acting is the production's strength; no question that this cast shares that elusive something called "good chemistry."  The synergy on stage is palpable. Crystal Dickinson plays the oldest sister, Clementine, (nicknamed the "piece-maker") with the suitable authority of a first-born and caretaker of her dying mother. Adrienne C. Moore, as the second-oldest sibling, Gio, is convincing as the hot-headed, hard-drinking cop who is going through a divorce. Susan Kelechi Watson is well-cast as Cassan, a resourceful army nurse with a teenage daughter named Zambia (sassily played by Mirirai). And Lauren E. Banks is just right as the successful entertainment lawyer-- the true overachiever of the family-and favorite of their late mother.

The play isn't flawless. An overabundance of themes lie beneath the surface of the narrative, and it's impossible to absorb them all as the scenes unspool. In fact, during this two-and-a-half show, Hall will address the complexities of race, religion, grief, money, sex, the HIV virus, and, of course, family love and tradition.

Many have compared The Blood Quilt to August: Osage County. Others find it reminiscent of August Wilson's dramas, largely because of Hall's lyrical turns of phrase, and her gift for delving into the African American identity, showing fractious families as they struggle with their lives. Of course, The Blood Quilt shares marked similarities to this season's The Hills of California, since both plays are about families that are brought together by the death of a matriarch, and both feature four sisters.

The cast of The Blood Quilt (Photo:  Julieta Cervantes)

 

Still, Hall has her own distinct voice, and when it comes to creating realistic portraits of African American women, she is in a class of her own. Indeed, The Blood Quilt is very likely to stitch its magic into your mind and heart. Although it does run a tad long, it's an eye- and ear-opener on why we should listen carefully to the distaff voices of African Americans.

 

The Blood Quilt 

At the Mitzi E. Newhouse at Lincoln Center, 150 W. 65 St., Manhattan.

Running time:  2 hours; 40 minutes with intermission.

Through December 29