A.D. Players’ moving ‘Miss Maude’ brings the life of an unsung hero to light
Playwright Martin Casella was in the Los Angeles Museum of Natural History when he came across an exhibit of black-and-white photos by W. Eugene Smith, a Life magazine photographer.
The setting of the photos was Pineville, S.C. The subject was Maude Callen, a midwife who delivered both Black and white babies but also brought medical care to needy rural people who had little access to modern medicine.
Casella was so moved by these photos that he found out more information about “Miss Maude” who died at age 91 after working over half a century helping others. He discovered that Smith had visited her in the summer of 1951. He also realized that he had the idea for his next play.
You might not think that a white photographer from the city and a rural Black midwife would have very much in common. But the A.D. Players’ pre-Broadway, world-premiere production of “Miss Maude” reminds us that, once we really take the time to see each other and ask questions, we often have more in common than we realize.
This is a play that does not sugarcoat the racism and economic difficulties of the time and the setting, and it does not minimize the problems of a photographer who has transgressed in his own life and faces the consequences of the pain he has caused his family and himself. However, it is still inspiring to see how both Miss Maude and Eugene help each other see themselves more clearly and, in the process, forge a lifelong friendship.
Directed by Sheldon Epps, the play pulls the audience into this world with striking scenic designs of both New York City and the lush, green backwoods of South Carolina. The photographs that brought worldwide attention to Miss Maude and her work are works of art and history. You can see why Smith was so dedicated to this project, in spite of the struggles in his personal life. The use of windows is clever and creative, and you can really visualize both place and time in this production. And the musical bridges also add to the atmosphere evoking the era of the 1950s.
This is a play driven by history and character, and the acting is excellent. Not only are the leads (Rosalyn Coleman and Robert Eli) intriguing, with impeccable credentials, they make us care about Miss Maude and Eugene and their relationship. There are funny lines such as “Boredom is a character defect!” and moving moments of connection, but nothing seems too saccharine or beyond belief. It’s a pleasure to watch. It is hard to pull off certain dialects and accents without slipping into parody, but this feels realistic without condescension or hyperbole.
Also impressive are the supporting cast members, who play multiple roles. Don’t let the program fool you — they play more than “Woman 3” and other such designations. It would have been nice if superlative Brandon Morgan had more lines, but he effortlessly shifted from a poor rural citizen to a sophisticated Charleston elite who plays a major role in Maude’s life.
You will never forget either Jeremiah Packer, as an eager 15-year-old who helps Eugene, or Christy Watkins, who changes from an earnest wife trying to cope with her husband’s issues to a Katy Perryesque nurse who might make you want to call the medical board ASAP. It’s something to behold. Shannon Emerick and David LaDuca also take on multiple roles with aplomb, creating an ensemble that works well.
“Miss Maude” reminds us of the delicate balance between our work and our lives, and how being too dedicated to our ideals can often exact a price as painful as our transgressions. Both Eugene and Miss Maude teach us that we can learn from others whose background and trajectory are so far removed from our own that friendship seems unlikely.
But then again, longing and ambition and regret defy the restrictions of setting, whether on the South Carolina coast, or in a New York office. In a divided world, this play dramatizes the power of connection and of the often overlooked people in history, such as Miss Maude, who changed thousands of lives, and the power of a picture to tell a thousand words about such heroes.