Playwrights envision a post-pandemic future guided by hope
What might post-pandemic life look like?聽
When the Huntington Theatre Company in Boston posed that question to four local playwrights, they responded by writing inventive audio plays set a few years from now.聽
Many songwriters, artists, and authors are creating art influenced by the pandemic but much of that work in progress has yet to be released. By contrast, the series offers an immediate reaction to the current moment. Its tone is more reflective than reflexive. The playwrights stand back to imagine a longer-term view of how the pandemic and the social justice protests might shape individual and collective relationships in the new normal. Besides being set at local landmarks, their disparate stories also share something else: a sense of hope.聽
Why We Wrote This
Major events tend to be reflected on museum walls and stages in the years after they occur. But even in the middle of the current pandemic, several new audio plays arealready offering perspectives on what鈥檚 to come.
鈥淭heater offers a chance to be transported somewhere,鈥� says Melinda Lopez, the Huntington鈥檚 playwright-in-residence, who conceived the series with the director of new work, Charles Haugland. 鈥淲e were very clear that we wanted to offer our listeners a moment in the future [when] our present struggles would not be so overwhelming.鈥澛� 聽
The first four audio plays in the 鈥淒ream Boston鈥� series, each less than 10 minutes, are available on major podcast platforms and at the theater鈥檚 website. Each production features voice actors, sound effects, and music. The Huntington is so enthused by the initial stories that it has commissioned seven other writers to produce more plays by Labor Day. The dramatists get to interpret the idea of hope in their own way.
For Brenda Withers, that guideline jolted her out of the helplessness she鈥檇 been feeling during quarantine.聽In her play 鈥淢cKim,鈥� a woman visits the Boston Public Library in January 2023 to pick up a book she鈥檇 requested 34 months previously. Ms. Withers聽says she created a character who, much like the country, is hesitant to embrace the future because of what has transpired in recent times. That accounts for why the character arrives so late to the library鈥檚 McKim building to pick up the book she鈥檇 placed on hold prior to the pandemic. Ms. Withers says change is easier when you鈥檙e able to feel like who you were and who you will become at the same time.聽聽
鈥淚 think books are often like that,鈥� says the playwright, a founding member of Cape Cod鈥檚 Harbor Stage Company. 鈥淵ou start in one place with a physical object, and when you get to the other side of that object, you鈥檙e a different person if it was a good book. You鈥檙e still holding that same object. It looks the same and feels the same. And you feel different.鈥澛犅�
Kirsten Greenidge鈥檚 鈥淭he 54th in 鈥�22鈥� eavesdrops on a charged blind date on Boston Common.聽In the play, Greg and Nola鈥檚 first date gets off to a bad start. It鈥檚 not just because their interpersonal skills have become rusty during quarantine 鈥� or the annoying sound of someone constantly pinging Greg鈥檚 phone with text messages. When Nola sees the State House on the edge of the Boston Common, she laments that it doesn鈥檛 belong to her because it鈥檚 a part of white America. Moreover, she鈥檚 racked with guilt for not participating in the racial justice protests because her mother was at risk from the coronavirus. It turns out that Greg was one of the protesters, but he reveals a contrasting perspective to Nola鈥檚.聽
Ms. Greenidge says her older relatives seldom talked about the racism they鈥檇 endured. She rooted her story鈥檚 hopeful outlook in how family members who came before her viewed the march of progress.聽聽
鈥淭hey had to live with the current of hope infusing their lives, to be able to believe they were creating a world that was better for those that were coming up after them,鈥� says Ms. Greenidge, a playwriting fellow at the Huntington whose new play 鈥淥ur Daughters, Like Pillars鈥� was delayed this spring. 鈥淲e live in a time where I don鈥檛 think they could have imagined the amount of freedom and 鈥榰pward mobility鈥� that my sisters, my children enjoy today.鈥�
Ms. Lopez鈥檚 鈥淏y the Rude Bridge鈥� follows a historical battle re-enactor at the Minute Man National Historical Park on Patriots鈥� Day in 2025.聽Like Ms. Greenidge, Ms. Lopez says that George Floyd鈥檚 death made her realize that it鈥檚 impossible to talk about the future without talking about the present. 鈥淲hat will we tell our children we fought for?鈥� asks the narrator, a re-enactor who tells listeners he dressed as a British soldier. At the end of Ms. Lopez鈥檚 story, he amiably chats with participants who鈥檇 dressed as Minutemen for the mock battle.聽
鈥淗e鈥檚 wearing red and they鈥檙e wearing blue,鈥� she says. 鈥淔or me, that was looking forward to a time when our country wouldn鈥檛 be so divided. And Republicans and Democrats could stand in the parking lot and drink a cup of coffee together. And won鈥檛 that be amazing? That was my vision of the most hopeful thing I could conceive.鈥�
None of the plays mention the pandemic directly, but they allude to it in different ways. In Kate Snodgrass鈥� 鈥淥verture,鈥� a woman makes her way to the top of the Great Dome at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, where her father, who died during the quarantine, had taught as a professor. She鈥檚 accompanied by a custodian who knew him. It鈥檚 July 4, 2024, and the night sky is more colorful than a botanical garden as fireworks bloom and wilt. The tale of grief transforms into something joyous as the characters listen to the Boston Pops Orchestra playing Tchaikovsky鈥檚 鈥�1812 Overture鈥� on the banks of the Charles River.聽
鈥淪he鈥檚 just acknowledging who her dad was, the joy of that, and how much he was giving to other people,鈥� says Ms. Snodgrass, artistic director of Boston Playwrights鈥� Theatre. 鈥淗e鈥檚 not dead. He鈥檚 with her. And that鈥檚 who she鈥檚 carrying with her.鈥澛犅�
The playwright knows several people who have died during the pandemic. And, like the other writers in the series, she expresses uncertainty about when their art form will return. But, like each of the writers, she鈥檚 more buoyed by optimism after participating in the series.聽
鈥淲e all live in hope for one thing or another,鈥� says Ms. Snodgrass. 鈥淚 don鈥檛 want the virus to stop me from moving forward with hope 鈥� hope for the future, hope for the better.鈥�
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