Caroline Stefanie Clay and Charlayne Woodard play a mother and daughter reconnecting in The Garden (photo by J Fannon)
THE GARDEN
Baltimore Center Stage
Through July 18, $15-$40
www.centerstage.org
This past April, Manhattan Theatre Club presented a virtual version of Charlayne Woodard’s solo play Neat as part of its Curtain Call series; the autobiographical work, written and performed by Woodard, had debuted on MTC’s stage in 1997. Recorded from her home for the online version, Neat tells the story of Woodard’s coming-of-age in Albany in the 1970s, when she was a teenager and her disabled aunt, Neat, came to live with her family. Woodard has also delved into her past and present in Flight, In Real Life, and Pretty Fire, while The Night Watcher was based on actual slave narratives.
Woodard returns to the stage in The Garden, a La Jolla Playhouse commission filmed live at Baltimore Center Stage and streaming through July 18. Woodard stars as Cassandra, a middle-aged woman who is visiting her mother, Claire Rose (Caroline Stefanie Clay), for the first time in three years. They are so estranged that Cassandra uses her mother’s given name, refusing to call her “mother” or any other similar appellation. Sneaking up on her as the play starts, Cassandra says, “Claire Rose, Claire Rose, Claire Rose, Claire Rose! I’m sorry! Oh my God! I didn’t mean to frighten you! I’m sorry! Please? It’s just me. Claire Rose, Claire Rose, please!!!” Her mother replies, “I was beginning to think I might never see you again.”
Over the course of seventy-five minutes, mother and daughter bring up past wrongs, explore what tore them apart, and reveal deeply emotional secrets that might bring them back together. The show takes place in a large garden created by Tony-winning set designer Rachel Hauck, featuring pinkeye purple hull peas, crookneck squash, Swiss chard, mustard greens, and turnip greens in numerous floor boxes and a small greenhouse. Claire Rose might live by herself, but she does not consider herself lonely. Answering her phone, Claire Rose says to the person on the other end of the line, “I am not at all alone. I’m in my garden.” Later, she tells Cassandra, “All I can say is this particular morning, I need the peace my garden brings me.”
The garden is an apt metaphor for the lives Claire Rose and Cassandra are living and the concepts of “home” and being “uprooted,” representing elements they personally chose to grow as well as those that were forced upon them, out of their control, especially when it comes to race. “This day . . . I believe this day is different from all the rest,” Cassandra says. Claire Rose responds, “Different from all the rest. . . . I don’t know. But I turned on CNN, the BBC. I turned on Fox News, only to find out things are far worse today than they were yesterday! My big question is why are we going backwards in this country. Pretty soon Black folk will be back at the voting booth, guessing how many jelly beans are in the jar —” Cassandra cuts her off, declaring, “— Very true. These are frightening times. But I didn’t come three thousand miles to discuss . . . voter suppression. I suggest you stay away from the twenty-four-hour news cycle, anyway—” This time Claire Rose cuts her daughter off, proclaiming, “—Oh, no. We can’t afford to live in a bubble. They are coming for us, Cassandra! It’s time to be vigilant. You don’t want to find yourself living like Negroes had to live back in the ’40s and ’50s. This country was a misery back then. . . . Oh, yes. Good ole’ racism. It is and always has been alive and kicking.”
Charlayne Woodard wrote and stars in Baltimore Center Stage streaming production of The Garden (photo by J Fannon)
Claire Rose and Cassandra each share horrifying, tragic stories from their past, which get to the heart of their fractured relationship, in need of serious tending. Cassandra is defiant in explaining that she felt her mother cared more for the garden than for her children, imploring, “Claire Rose . . . you are so generous, so nurturing every step of the way with this garden. April to October. Whether there’s too much rain or freezing temperatures. This garden never gets on your nerves. Me, Rachel, Isaiah, even Pop-Pop — we’ve all been competing with this garden. I have always done the best I could to be a good daughter. But you left me out of it. My shrink says —” An adamant Claire Rose defends herself: “This garden is between me and my God. Competing with my garden? That’s as silly as me competing with your career. Who does that? If you choose to be jealous of some beets and some eggplant and my heirloom tomatoes, maybe that’s a topic to bring up with your shrink.” It all leads to a haunting, unforgettable finale.
Filmed by David Lee Roberts Jr. with camera operators Darius Moore and Taja Copeland, The Garden is directed with a compelling green thumb by Patricia McGregor (Hamlet, Hurt Village), who allows the actors, who occasionally break the fourth wall, time and room to grow as the narrative unfolds. Two-time Obie winner and Tony nominee Woodard (Jeremy O. Harris’s “Daddy,” Lynn Nottage’s Fabulation, or The Re-Education of Undine) and Clay (Lillian Hellman’s The Little Foxes, Adrienne Kennedy’s Etta and Ella on the Upper West Side) cultivate a potent and powerful chemistry as a daughter and mother who have never quite understood each other but are more alike than they realize.
It’s a gripping story that blossoms at just the right moment in time, tackling issues of loss and isolation as we emerge from the pandemic lockdown and family and friends meet up in person for the first time in more than a year in a country dangerously polarized by social injustice, police brutality, and health and economic crises that disproportionately affect people of color. In her 1983 book In Search of Our Mothers’ Gardens, Pulitzer Prize winner Alice Walker wrote, “Guided by my heritage of a love of beauty and a respect for strength — in search of my mother’s garden, I found my own.” Those words ring as true as ever in 2021, embodied in Woodard’s moving, heartrending play.