Katori Hall’s The Blood Quilt at Lincoln Center’s Off-Broadway Mitzi E. Newhouse Theater, employs a familiar plot structure which it overcomes with strong acting and direction. This is yet another family dysfunction play where surviving, estranged siblings gather at the homestead to reveal secrets and confront long-held grudges after the death of a beloved/hated parent (depending on which sibling you are.) We’ve seen this type of show already once this season with Jez Butterworth’s The Hills of California.
Set in set designer Adam Rigg’s homey “country chic” cabin on an island off the coast of Georgia in 2015, Hall’s quartet of African-American sisters, like their white British counterparts in Butterworth’s play, have plenty of past regrets to unearth. They share a mother who has just passed away but each has a different father. In addition to family connections, what binds them together is an annual quilting ritual where they sign the corners of their work in blood.
Eldest sister Clementine (feisty and furious Crystal Dickinson) had been caring for her invalid mother and is now confronted with a massive tax debt. Gio (volcanic Adrienne C. Moore), a Mississippi-based police officer, resents her mom’s neglect and takes it out on the youngest daughter Amber (complex Lauren E. Banks), an entertainment lawyer whose high salary has helped pay for her family’s various needs. Cassan, short for Cassandra (sturdy Susan Kelechi Watson), is an Army nurse whose marriage to a career soldier is on shaky ground. Her daughter Zambia (a delightfully enthusiastic Mirirai) is going through many identity crises including her religion and sexuality.
At close to three hours, Hall’s drama is infused with poetry and pathos and she deftly explores themes of family history vs. practicality as the sisters struggle to save their heritage, confront ghosts, and find their identities. But this Quilt could use cutting. Each sibling has her own revelation and accompanying dramatic monologue, and they tend to pile up and feel repetitive. After you think nothing more can happen following the first-act curtain, more plot twists and turns are added after intermission. Without revealing any spoilers, elements of The Color Purple and The Piano Lesson make their way into an already crowded script as the women clash and collide over their past and finally reach a resolution on their uncertain future.
Director Lileana Blain-Cruz keeps the action moving and holds our attention even as the action borders on melodrama. Jiyoun Chang’s lighting and Jeanette Oi-Suk Yew’s projections evoke the surrounding waters of the family’s island home and create an atmosphere alternating between cozy-warm and spooky-frightening. Each of the five-member cast commits fully to their objectives, balancing Hall’s mysticism with gritty realism. Moore is particularly moving in a recreation of childhood trauma and Dickinson is commanding as the eldest sister striving to maintain her authority and loving compassion.
As with the titular quilt the characters work on over the course of the play, there are many fascinating pieces in Hall’s work, it’s just a little overwhelming to take in all of them in one sitting.
