Tradition and history strengthen the resolve in the face of impending loss. A good recipe for black-eyed peas helps, too.
Grace, a new musical playing until May 14 at Ford’s Theatre, celebrates the multi-generational culinary tradition of a long-established restaurant and catering business run by the black Minton family in Philadelphia. With daughter Ruthie in danger of losing the restaurant as the customer base vanishes through neighborhood gentrification, the family must pull together to save it, or let it be a casualty of “The Wave of Change,” as the song describes.
At first, bowed by the recent loss of the family matriarch, the two generations gathered for the funeral are obsessed with their own issues. One brother pushes for selling the place. He even claims to have a “guy” interested in buying it. Others support carrying on with the century-old Minton family business, but can’t quite come around to helping Ruthie out with the critical loan payment that is just about to come due.
There’s a cast of twelve mostly outstanding voices, Virginia Ann Woodruff as Miss Minnie and Nova Y. Payton’s Ruthie strongest among them, both with showstopping solos. Woodruff’s belting belies her shuffling walk and elderly stoop as she assumes the mantle of eldest family member. Payton’s finest moment comes about midway through the production; in a longer play (this one is just 90 intermission-less minutes), it would surely serve as the Act One curtain.
The backdrop (designed by Jason Ardizzone-West) almost functions as an additional cast member, displaying a mural of the past generations of Minton’s owners, creatively highlighted as each ancestor is name-checked in “Bogle, Augustin, Prosser, Dorsey, Jones & Minton.” A history lesson that goes down a treat.
The variety of musical styles include classical jazz, R&B, soul and traditional spirituals, lending themselves to moods from wistfulness to moments of broad comedy. “Black-Eyed Peas” is hilarious as a study of one-upmanship through salad recipes. (Speaking of, I can’t remember ever seeing a recipe as lagniappe printed in a theatrical program, but there it is, courtesy of Carla Hall, no less!)
Another rousing number, “The Gospel Bird (This Chicken Died),” starts out as a testament to that fine dish, fried chicken wings, and climaxes with the entire cast doing the chicken dance.
I don’t think it will count as a spoiler to recount that Grace ends on a hopeful, if rather rushed, note, embodying its title as the entire family is united in their desire to work toward the continuance of the Minton family tradition and culinary enterprise. Go see it, and you, too, will feel the urge to praise the chicken who died so that you might live.
