History, Memory, and Poetry in Motion: “Diary of a Tap Dancer”

The cast of “Diary of a Tap Dancer.” Photo: Nile Scott Studios and Maggie Hall

Presented by the American Repertory Theater
Written and Choreographed by Ayodele Casel
Directed by Torya Beard
Scenic Design by Tatiana Kahvegian
Costume Design by Camilla Dely
Projection Design by Katherine Freer
Lighting Design by Brandon Stirling Baker
Featuring Ayodele Casel, Naomi Funaki, Afra Hines, Quynn L. Johnson, Funmi Sofola, Liberty Styles, Annaliese Wilbur, Ki’Leigh Williams

Dec. 12, 2024 – Jan. 4, 2025
64 Brattle Street
Cambridge MA 02138

Information and tickets here

Article by Maegan Bergeron-Clearwood

Content advisory: This production contains racial slurs, discusses domestic violence and drug use, and includes historical references to enslaved and oppressed people. It also contains haze and flashing lights. Recommended for ages 13+.

CAMBRIDGE, Mass. — Ayodele Casel speaks dance. Diary of a Tap Dancer, Casel’s fittingly titled autobiographical play now running at the A.R.T., traces her lifelong relationship to this kinesthetic language, from her early days desperately searching for an expressive outlet, to her early career in a white- and male-dominated industry, and ultimately to the here-and-now: as a Black queer female artist on a stage in Boston, yearning to tell her own story in her own words while she has the time. The play also excavates Casel’s place within the broader context of dance history, gazing backward at the women who paved the way and forward toward the brilliant collaborators on stage with her.

Diary of a Tap Dancer is ambitious in scope, and it doesn’t hit every emotional beat with the same impact – but when it succeeds, it is resplendent.

There are two distinct parts to this play, each with unique successes and challenges. In the first act, through a series of childhood stories, Casel reenacts her youth in the Bronx and Puerto Rico while members of the seven-person ensemble rotate playing different authority figures in her life. The storytelling is linear and presentational, filtered through Casel’s present-day interpretation of events, and the impact of the vignettes wavers depending on the pacing and the performers’ acting chops.

The play finds its voice when Casel finds hers. At the midpoint of Diary of a Tap Dancer, she unlocks the language of tap for the first time: finally, an entire vocabulary of sound, rhythm, and movement opens up to her, and Casel practically floats off the ground as she brings this memory to life.

This is followed by a significantly more abstract and theatrically compelling second half compared to the first. Minutes-long dance sequences explore gender, systemic racism, and the liberatory power of artistic expression, among other complex themes. Casel’s narration is strongest in this act, too: there’s more musical backing, so she’s able to vocalize her thoughts rhythmically, as if delivering an extensive, highly skilled spoken word poem.

The script is direct and hyper-conversational, which works during some of the flashback scenes, but weakens the metaphorical sequences that otherwise speak for themselves. Still, the second half largely works, because it plays to the performers’ strengths and takes more conceptual risks – risks that more often than not pay off, to stunning effect.

The cast of “Diary of a Tap Dancer.” Photo: Nile Scott Studios and Maggie Hall

Impressively, for a vignette-style play covering so much thematic ground, Diary of a Tap Dancer (directed by Torya Beard) feels like one bright, bold cohesive piece. With the exception of a couple of awkward transitional moments, the story and dance sequences bleed into each other, giving the impression of one long, dreamy memory.

Projections and lighting (designed by Katherine Freer and Brandon Stirling Baker respectively) do much of the heavy lifting when it comes to this aesthetic coherence. Throughout the play, the audience is transported to dozens of real-world and abstract settings: the hot, golden-hued streets of Puerto Rico; a neon-lit 90s club, thrumming with hip-hop beats; even a star-flecked galaxy that feels as immersive as a museum planetarium. These transformations are supported by simple but elegant costume changes (Camilla Dely), ranging from baggy street clothes to tailored suits. While these settings are distinct, they always feel like they’re being pulled from the same dreamlike source.

Casel and the ensemble make endlessly creative use of the set (Tatiana Kahvegian), which consists of platforms, stairs, and curved walls with two cut-outs for characters to pop in and out of. The ensemble could easily hold an audience’s attention on a bare stage, but the additional use of levels gives the dance sequences an extra spectacle-driven edge. Frustratingly, the two windows are only used in act one and distract from the projections work in act two, leaving two gaping black holes in the middle of otherwise beautiful archival footage.

Diary of a Tap Dancer has a two-hour run-time, and it feels long for what is essentially a one-person show. Luckily, it is interspersed with some of the most transcendent moments of dance that I have ever seen and is a testament to the power of artistic expression – not just to entertain, but to exude joy, express gratitude, process trauma, conjure memory, and even re-envision history.

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