What is THROW PITCHFORK about?

Willie Thomas, an overworked, alcoholic, African-American father, passes on a legacy of self-hate and anger to his four sons: Jimmy, Wesley, Cleve, and the youngest, Alex. Each finds his own way to digest this legacy -- Jimmy through hard drugs, Wes through petty crime, Cleve through education and the arts. The older brothers are seen through the eyes of young Alex, who had a pitchfork thrown at him by his father during a drunken rage. He desperately searches for self-definition as he attempts both to emulate and separate himself from his brothers and father. His search crystallizes when his father's true story is revealed -- as a child, Willie suffered a cruel injustice at the hands of a racist Alabama penal system, which virtually robbed Willie of his childhood. Written for one energetic actor, Throw Pitchfork explores serious terrain with much comedy.

What is BLACK STUFF?

Written, developed and performed with writer/performer LeVan D. Hawkins.
An unbiased, often irreverent, uncensored, satirical trip through the sometime murky, often contradictory labyrinth of Black identity.

FOR MORE INFO GO TO: http://www.blackstuff.net/

Walking Black (excerpt from Black Stuff)

I was 14 when I started walking Black. Nobody taught me, I figured it out. I know that’s a little late, but I was kind of a nerdy kid. I was real short, had big feet, gangly arms, a gawky walk and was always daydreaming. I got tied of other black kids telling me I walked like a white boy. They’d stop me just to tell that. “ Hey, you walk like a White boy.” I couldn’t do it right away I had to practice before I took it outside. The only thing worst than a Black guy walking like a White guy is a Black guy walking like a White guy trying to walk like Black guy.

So I figured it out scientifically. It’s in the bop. It’s in the little bop. You bend the knee a little bit and get a bounce and a bop. Then take a step and a bend and a bounce and a bop, step, bend, bounce and a bop. Practice around my bedroom first; step, bend, bounce and a bop, step, bend, bounce and a bop, step, bend, bounce and a bop. Then feverishly, step bend bounce and a bop, step, bend, bounce and a bop. Around the house, whatever I did. (mimes doing house chores: sweeping or mopping) step bend bounce and a bop, step, bend, bounce and a bop. Finally, I took it outside. Downtown in my “hood” I felt good, I felt connected. I felt Black!.

Then I’d go uptown and run into some of my White friends “Hi guys!” They would ask; “Why do Black guys walk like that?” They would give me that look; that,You’re Black, aren’t you’re an authority on everything Black, look. I would say “ The walk. Oh, that. Well, you see, it comes from, ah… Africa! It stems from the cultural tradition of the tribal transition from the boyhood to the manhood of the brotherhood into the jungle-hood…that’s why we call it the hood! They would wipe a couple of strands of hair out of their face, like this, and just look at me. In some unconscious effort to fit in. I too would then wipe hair, which wasn’t there, out of my face. And every move that they made, flipping their hair back, running their fingers through it, I found myself emulating precisely their movements even though I did not have that kind of hair and it wasn’t about to fall in my face. Then I would go back downtown with the brothers and I would go, “Yo…(catches himself wiping hair and stops abruptly) what’s happening brothers?”

(Exits)

A Published Rant About Critics

A couple of weeks ago the LA Times ran an article about the state of cultural criticism, called Critical Condition, which was basically about how critics are bemoaning (whinning about) the fact that their power for making or breaking a piece of work is on the wane, mostly because of the internet and blogs like this where any person can print their response to a film, a play etc. I wrote back a letter and they actually published. An artist got to critique the critic(and get published) how cool is that?!
----------------------------------------------------------
LOS ANGELES TIMES - LETTER: PART II
Sunday June 5, 2005

Critic's Credentials

I have often asked myself, "What is the skill of a critic?" "What is her discipline?" "What does he practice everyday?" "What do they do?

When I performed my solo play, "Throw Pitchfork", off-Broadway, it was the result of a daily regimen of writing which turned into weeks, which turned into months. Then a couple of years of flying back and forth to New York for workshops with groups of seasoned professional writers, directors, actors and dramaturges who gave feedback and insights based on their years of activity and experience, forcing me to rewrite and restructure the piece that I had already worked so diligently on.

Then came the rehearsal process, since I perform my work as well. A grueling three weeks of rehearsal at New York Theatre Workshop: seven hours a day, six days a week on my feet going over every moment, every movement.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not an artist who got bad reviews and wants to whine about it. In fact, I had many excellent reviews from impressive New York sources, and only one bad one.

But still I asked myself those questions I posed earlier: "Who is this person that comes, sits on their butt for the length of my show, does not talk to me or any other artist connected to the production, does not talk to an audience member (in short, does no work), goes home and writes a not very skillfully written critique of my work?"

"What do they do? What are their skills and discipline?"