author: Erin Tarpley
Definition of “Rarefied”: distant from the lives and concerns of ordinary people
It is sometimes hard to believe that this week marks the five-year anniversary of the start of the Covid-19 “lock-down.” That time in our all too recent history where we were told that for the benefit of public health and safety, all stores, businesses, and schools would close their doors and everyone (except “essential workers”) were expected to shelter in place and wait for this new novel virus to pass.
One week became one month, then six, then one year… and things were just so… weird! Tension, anxiety, loneliness, uncertainty, stillness, rage, everything, nothing… well, I’m sure you remember. Afterall, it was only half a decade ago. Although, at the same time feels like a whole other life ago.
In the world premiere production of Rarefied Air, written by Nina Foxx and directed by Sandra L. Holloway, audiences are taken back through those mile-stone experiences of the lock-down period and journey through this strange time with the Jonathan family; and one very well themed “Ring Girl” (played by Kay Black). Set through the lens of watching an affluent Black family residing in the safe suburbs of Seattle, Washington, the audience is guided through the experience of reliving the shock and surprise of being told to “shelter in place,” navigate transitioning from the normal day-to-day in-person life to existing entirely online, attempt to survive the fight to transition into this isolated new life, and watch the world grind against itself and ignite to an eruption of action, and ultimately, violence.
As we begin our tale, we are introduced to the three members of the Jonathan family. As time goes on, we are able to see the mental toll this strange year (year plus?, because what is time anymore?) takes on each member, and submerges them in the crucible of their own internal and external expectations to bend and challenge their own self-identities.
Breaking each down into their own respective parts: Patriarch of the Jonathan family, Dante Jonathan, played by Jose Rufino, begins this epic journey as the laid-back, care-free Dad. The one who is quick to spout jokes and make light of any situation. The one who attempts to bring ease to the levity of the heaviness of any threat to those he loves. But as events progress, we see how this pressure to care for and carry his family weighs on Dante’s psyche, and Foxx’s focus on allowing Dante to feel secure enough to admit his own sense of “helplessness” crush his self-identity as Patriarch and question his own ability to navigate these times as confidently as he wishes he could. In this sense, Rufino walks this line beautifully as a man proud enough in his own worldly accomplishments to provide for his family in a way he sees as elevated from Dante’s own less-than-affluent origins, but also encompassing the vulnerability of one secure in his own self to not shy away from the gravity of each and every event that presses down on his family; not only from factors stemming from the universal experiences of everyone going through the events related to Covid-19, but to those magnified and compounded within the Black experience in America and how the injustices shown in the news were nothing new, but were nonetheless affecting the reality of his teenage daughter.
Partner in every sense of the word to Dante, and Matriarch of the Jonathan family, is Claire Jonathan, played by Danae Nick. While Claire’s voice serves as the initial voice of anxiety and inconvenienced frustration felt in this time of uncertainty, Claire also serves as the symbol of those struggling with identity in this transitional time frame as she is the one who most often recognized the accomplishments she and her husband made to provide a heightened and secure existence for their daughter that they never knew growing up, as well as the trepidation and loss of self-identity this new world environment forces on themselves. In this sense, Nick does well to portray the role of concerned mother as she fights the urge to take on the more corporal punishment reactions of her own mother would to a budding adolescent as she accepts and recognizes the struggles her own daughter is experiencing though these novel times. Oh, and also struggling to find herself from who she thought she was to who she wants to be, because let’s be real, women are always meant to feel like they have to do it all and be it all, and that is always a gigantic weight to carry even in the best of times.
Which brings us to their daughter Amirah Jonathan, played by Alexis Davol. While her parents are established adults who have had the ability to experience the typical mile-stones of adolescence and establish themselves in secure enough positions in society that allowed them to continue to exist in their own societal roles (albeit in socially secure positions that allowed them to retain their jobs virtually which comes with its own struggles), Amirah imbues the essence of those denied those defining social monuments because of lock-down. She is a dancer denied her senior recital. A senior student denied her senior prom. An accomplished student denied a high school graduation. One filled with life and vitality but is reduced to confinement and ultimately feeling like a prisoner in their own home. In this sense, Davol rises to the challenge to display the frustrations and nervous energy building from the loss of adolescence as she navigates the tense world around her. She represents those who were feeling the call to action and recognizing that action serves as the antidote to anxiety as she presses the boundaries her experienced and cautious parents set for her, but also feeling her parents are unable to understand anything of her experience because they got to experience everything that she feels denied.
As a means of visually portraying the transition of time, the use of Lighting, Sound, and Projections designed by Niya John, Justin Sabe, and Chris Uehlinger, respectively, are executed as a collection of both a fast-forward montage coupled with mirrored images of the news projected across the whole of the stage (with the “Ring Girl” (Kay Black), who 100% understands their role of representing the Jonathan’s tale as a “fight for their lives” situation, and nails the symbolic role with both aplomb and levity to a heavy story). Additionally, these visuals are also used to project stock news footage of the protests and Black Lives Matter movement in pivotal moments of the piece to emphasize Amirah’s awareness to the gross racial injustice of the times and advance her internal desire to act in a time when she (individually) feels (figuratively) suffocated.
But in this sense, I am interested to see how well this piece survives the test of time. Even with this production’s choice to blur the news stock footage, this show’s ability to “tell” more than “show” is because the references made throughout are still so fresh in the minds of its audience. The pivotal murder and subsequent protests surrounding George Floyd’s death that led to the Black Lives Matter movement are a prominent moment for Amirah to feel that call to action, but the experiences of her parents with countless other individuals of similar situations bring them understandable fear of retaliation (or death) to their daughter for participating in the growing protest-movements ongoing, and making her another instance of “Say Her Name.”
A remark here, a mention there to what is overall a larger and heavier piece of America’s ongoing racist existence is enough in its generalized simplicity to bring the viewer right back to that exact moment in time without any further explanation or education. In this way, Rarefied Air is more like a time capsule in its attempt to capture a glimpse of this overall experience in time but also solidify the voice for the posterity of history of those that experienced it as it happened.
In terms of viewing this piece through a traditional lens for storytelling, it feels like there is a build up to a climax, but no real climax. Tension builds both in the home and in the outside world; events occur that are shocking and horrifying in the moment, but then we are on to the next frame of time, reminiscent of what could be a denouement, but without the traditional pace of transition from climax into falling action into that feeling. But then again that is, in a way, a perfect representation of the Covid lock-down itself. It came in like a shock to the nervous system, stayed just long enough to invoke enough disruption to leave emotional and/or mental scars, and then dissipated as if into mist, gradually transitioning back into “life as normal;” although as a “new” normal, without a clean, satisfying sense of closure.
In all, I do recommend taking a step back in time and experiencing this premiere production of Rarefied Air. Especially now, given our current existence, this piece feels almost prophetic in its closing wish seceding its existence: that after this fight to survive over thrive, we will all be better for having undergone this experience together (even if separate). That our inherent desire as humans to come together will overcome the fear and adversity we face in uncertainty, and the hope that we will build a better future for those who come after.
Running Time: Approximately 2 hours, including one fifteen-minute intermission.
Rarefied Air plays through March 30th 2025 at The Strand Theater— 5426 Harford Rd. in Baltimore MD. For tickets call the box office at (443) 874-4917 or purchase them online.
