UPDATED: December 6, 2016, at 9:48 a.m.

Beneath the artistic and social movements of the Harlem Renaissance, behind closed doors and drawn curtains, everyday stories of crafting and redefining identities lie at its heart and soul. On Oct. 8, BlackCAST presented such stories in “Songs of the Harlem River” at the Loeb Experimental Theater. Woven together from five separate one-act plays, “Songs of the Harlem River” comprised a thorough exploration of black culture as it evolved from the Harlem Renaissance.

The five stories each examine a different aspect of the development of social issues for African-Americans, starting with “The Girl From Bama” by Ralf M. Coleman, which follows a young woman who struggles to balance Southern traditions with homosexuality. In the second act, “The Deacon’s Awakening” by Willis Richardson, families adapt to women’s suffrage and the women exercise new freedoms for the first time. The following act, the “Blue-Eyed, Black Boy” by Georgia Douglas Johnson, as its title suggests, centers on a black mother whose son’s father cannot be publicly revealed. Next comes “Exit, an Illusion,” by Marita Bonner, a nightmarish scene of a lover’s deepest inner fears. Finally, “The Starter” by Eulalie Spence addresses a very present issue in modern day Harlem, exploring the discontentment of African-American workers with the unskilled labor roles they are expected to fill. Despite these stories’ diffuse plots and writers, director Darius Johnson ’18 united their themes into a compelling account of identity and history in an adaptation.

The same six actors played various roles across the acts, and each showed talent and versatility. Aside from a few awkward moments of detachment, Bryant W. Huggins ’19 was engaging and ambitious. Maddie Trice ’20 shone, especially in “The Deacon’s Awakening” as a young girl ready to exercise her new suffrage rights. In the same act, Huggins and Caleb M. Lewis ’17, an inactive Crimson arts editor, made a humorous duo in portraying misogynist fathers. Though their reactions and misconceptions evoked laughs, the play served as a sobering reminder of the struggles that women faced less than 100 years ago.

As Dot in “Exit, an Illusion,” originally written as a female role, Nicholas Whittaker ’19 pierced souls with his self-conscious confessions and pleading calls for love. In stark contrast, Lewis, as his controlling housemate, rejects Whittaker’s pleas and puts up emotional defense mechanisms in fear of being hurt. His cold shell is also a complete reverse of the comic portrayal that he takes on in a different act earlier.

Similarly, the other actors impressively swung back and forth and scratch personalities completely. Even through the character changes, Lethu A. Ntshinga ’18 delivered a consistently powerful performance in all her roles, establishing both presence in her poise and voice, but her strength in the “Blue-Eyed, Black Boy” especially stood out. Kelcee A. Everette ’18 carried with her the just the right air of nervousness that her character requires in the first role, but easily reestablished confidence as needed throughout the rest of the play.

Lighting by Eliza B. Mantz ’18 and Cole Edick '17, and set design, by Madison E. Johnson ’18, was another source of cohesion. Between the acts, soulful music played. Flapper dresses, trench coats, and rustic furniture in the sets grounded the play’s portrayal of the Harlem Renaissance. The family room that the set mostly resembled took on a homey and warm lighting. In some moments of starkness, the lighting appropriately dimmed and shone with blue-purple tones.

The last act resonated with strikingly familiar details like the neighborhood park bench one can find in many a city today, and this recognizable context drove home the sentiments from each one-act. Funny yet poignant and evocative, “Songs of the Harlem River” intertwines a dazzling fabric from the literature of one of America’s most vibrant movements in history.

This article has been updated to reflect the following corrections:

CORRECTIONS: December 6, 2016

A previous version of this article misstated the class year of Darius Johnson '18. The article also incorrectly indicated Madison E. Johnson ’18 was a light designer. In fact, she was set designer.