From the opening monologue – ostensibly from the point-of-view of her own Caucasian mother – in which the multi-talented, mixed-heritage performer confidently states: “Don’t trust white women.”, this one-person play either entertains or provokes (oftentimes both) for its entire 55 minutes.
Using a ‘time-machine’-like device to sift through ‘forgotten memories’, we – the audience – are able to see beyond her precocious, self-confidence to witness those who both laid the groundwork for it – as well as those who set traps and road-blocks for its inception.
In this way, we get to hear her Liverpudlian mother eloquently express that most matriarchal of prayers: “Don’t have a mixed-race baby… unless you’re ready to love it. I mean… really love it.”
Conversely, we get to experience the casual racism of a White ballet instructor – even her ‘bestie’ – as she navigates the harsh, in-between world of ‘Oreo Otherness’.
“This one-person play either entertains or provokes (oftentimes both) for its entire 55 minutes”.
Using a succession of accents, contemporary dance moves, boundless energy… and Nikki Minaj – India Wilson entertains the audience, with her sharp insight and superb physical and vocal control.
More than that, the writing – if episodic – is well-paced and finely balanced. Producer Francesca Solomon, and Lighting and Sound operator – Jamiko Marshall – deserve props, also. If we’ve heard some of these tales before, we haven’t heard India Wilson deliver them. I – for my part – wish to see and hear her deliver them again… and much, much more.
