Because what follows is too long and not really a review (which is particularly terrible given that I'm reviewing a playwright whose brilliant brevity would make Hemingway envious), I'll start with this (which I do not say lightly): The Piano Lesson should be on everyone's personal required reading list.
The Piano Lesson was my first foray into Wilson, and the only one I've been lucky enough to see performed (twice, both brilliantly, once in Washington DC and once at Yale Rep). Wilson is a master of writing the crescendo and climax, and he knows how to close out his acts. It is a difficult comparison, but an argument can be made that he does it best here. It is a puzzle of a play that builds into a thundering cacophony that cuts away, finally (in the play and in the characters' long and bloody family history) to peace, redemption, grace, vindication. It does with silence what Ma Rainey does with its opposite at its end: it uses sound (or its absence) to shock. Reading this play again, my heart pounded again. A testament to the performances I saw, but also a testament to the enduring authority of Wilson's own voice.
At the center of the play is the family's piano, the source of pride and despair for Berniece and Boy Willie's family, and a potential source of hope. As always, Wilson weaves together a range of characters, related by blood, friendship, and shared history. None of this is given to us directly. I mentioned before that The Piano Lesson is a puzzle. The progression of the play depends as much on the characters' history and the history of their ancestors and the white men and women who owned/compelled them, as it does on what the characters do from the opening act onward. As you read, each piece falls into place, one by one. Berniece's relationship with Boy Willie, for example, crystalizes. And piece by piece, Wilson builds the world of what 1936 meant for a poor African-American family. Through deft detail, he clashed the hope of the era (Berniece's demands of her daughter, the piano lessons, homework, hair care; Boy Willie's sale of watermelons and plans to buy land, Lymon's purchase of the suit) with its ugliness (Boy Willie and Lymon's stint at the prison/work camp of Parchman Farm) with the enduring legacy of the past, defined by slavery and violent suppression that culminated in the characters' physical haunting by Sutter's Ghost.
In The Piano Lesson it finally (and belatedly) hit me that Wilson isn't unfurling only the story of a single century. The stories span more than that, and the past is ever rearing itself in the present. Esther was nearly 300 when she first appeared in these plays. Herald Loomis' visions included the bones of dead slaves rising up out of the Atlantic. In the Piano Lesson, not only does the living memory of slavery (a mere 2 generations prior) weigh heavily on the characters, and not only are the characters shaped by more recent history (the theft of the piano, the death of Crowley), but they also are literally haunted by ghosts of the past: the Ghosts of Yellow Dog (black men murdered when white men set fire to a train car), the ghost of Sutter (a descendant of the man who owned Berniece and Boy Willie's ancestors). And, in the end, Berniece is able to call upon the spirits of her own ancestors in their battle against Sutter's Ghost. Wilson collides the past with the present, perhaps here more than any other play, and in so doing writes a play that tells a larger history than even his century.
Berniece became one of my favorite of Wilson's characters. She's one of the first of his women characters to take shot not only at the racial discrimination they face and fight, but to root herself not only in her gender, but in the particular discrimination she has faced as a woman. Her fight with Avery is particularly poignant, as she struggles to gain acknowledgement for her own individuality, herself as a person without a man to be defined with and by. Her fight for individuality is not only with Avery, of course, but also with the constraints placed on her by the burdens of her past: Crawley's death, her parents' and grandparents' suffering. Throughout the play, Berniece and Boy Willie struggle to carve a path that honors that suffering but also honors their own suffering and survival. The interplay of what was taken from them, and what they've taken for themselves, and what they refuse to give up and why, is a central conflict of the story, and gives Berniece and Boy Willie a depth that anchors the story and makes the supernatural element all the more powerfully realistic.
The Piano Lesson does what Wilson does best: it tells an intensely intimate story that somehow also massive in scope. His characters are not everymen. They are unique and powerful and individual, but somehow still able to convey to us an era, a place, a culture, our country's history, raw and tarnished as it is.
Apologies for anyone who read this all the way through. Its too long. What can I say? I could think about The Piano Lesson forever. And also: I really love this play.