Ode to the Soul of a City

DC mourns the passing of the Godfather of Go-Go – a home-grown music known to few outside the capital city. But while Chuck Brown may be dead, he is not gone. His sound and rhythms permeate and define the soul of the Chocolate City, even as it’s being reimagined by the gentrification train. For the moment, though, there are still good times at Kofi’s barbershop. A space for jokes and truth and tradition; for conversations that resonate through generations. As Kofi and his teenage son, Prince, lock heads about the future of the barbershop, a battle ensues revealing the fragile yet undeniable love between a father and his son. A vibrant elegy for a community in transition, funny and rhythmic and raw. Grab a seat for this powerful world-premiere in the Touchstone. Runs June 24 - September 25.

Featuring: David Alan Anderson, Nathan Barlow, Jonathan Gardner, Josh Krause

Synopsis

A local icon’s death signals the end of an era and the beginning of a new look for a once-predominantly African-American neighborhood in Washington, DC. A barbershop is the backdrop for conversations about gentrification, race and family as the owner, Kofi, considers selling his beloved establishment while keeping his son Prince on the path to success. A funny, touching and devastating world-premiere from APT Core Company Member Gavin Dillon Lawrence.

Contains adult themes & language. Call the Box Office at 608-588-2361 for more information.

Season Select: The Death of Chuck Brown
By Erin Milleville

The Death of Chuck Brown Playlist
Curated by Director and Playwright Gavin Dillon Lawrence and Communications Coordinator Patty Heaston

Portable Prologues: The Death of Chuck Brown (Apple Podcasts)

Portable Prologues: The Death of Chuck Brown (Spotify)

American Players Theatre looks to engage diverse audiences
By Robert Chappell, Madison365

The Death of Chuck Brown on 365 Amplified (Apple Podcasts)

The Death of Chuck Brown on 365 Amplified (Spotify)

When my oldest son was a teenager, I took a photo of him as he got a haircut at a Washington, DC barbershop located in the heart of the Adams Morgan neighborhood. This area had, at one time, been one of the most diverse communities in DC, but things were clearly changing and this barbershop was now one of the few Black-owned businesses still standing. It was heartbreaking for me to see that the city where I grew up - the town that we called “Chocolate City” - was changing in a way that systematically excluded the people on whose backs it was built. The picture that I took of my son, however, was even more heartbreaking. He had a look of burden and weariness that I had never seen on his 15-year-old face. It shook me to my core. Was he burdened? Was he weary? Or was he carrying the weight of something that I was unaware of? Had I myself weighed him down with the constant lectures about what to do and what not to do; how to walk and how not to walk; how to be and how not to be to survive as a Black male in this country?

The picture haunted and unsettled me. It wouldn’t leave me alone. One day I found myself asking the question: “If I saw this picture in a museum and had no connection to this young man other than the hue of our skin, what story might I draw from the expression on his face?” It was out of that question that the seeds for this play were planted.

Go-Go music and the Chocolate City I grew up in went hand in hand. Steeped in the African tradition of call and response and driven by drums and percussion, Go-Go was born in the 70’s when band leader, Chuck Brown, started mixing Latin percussive sounds with the structure and melodies of Blues, Jazz and R&B - all growing out of an African musical sensibility. Go-Go became our best kept secret. If you weren’t from DC, most likely you didn’t know about it. Over the years Chuck Brown came to be known fondly as the Godfather of Go-Go as other artists emerged following in his footsteps, and the music became the heartbeat of Chocolate City. Go-Go was everywhere - in the clubs, in our homes, in our cars and in the streets as ambitious young people created their own Go-Go beats on plastic buckets and bins giving the people exactly what they were thirsty for on Friday and Saturday nights all over the city.

In May of 2012, Chuck Brown joined the ancestors. The irony of Chuck’s leaving us as the gentrification train was pulling into the station did not escape me. So I thought, ‘The death of a local icon, the changing face of the city, and a father’s love for his “burdened” son. Let’s put them in the same place on the same day at the same time and see what we end up with.’

For Chocolate City. May you, like the Phoenix, rise again.

-Gavin Dillon Lawrence, Playwright and Director of The Death of Chuck Brown