Windy Barnes-Farrell, in one-woman stage play, Secrets of Shady, by Carla Dupree Clark. Photo by Arturo Garcia-Ayala
Sunday, Nov. 12 at 3 p.m., the Grand Annex showcased a deconstructed theater piece by playwright and stage veteran Carla DuPree Clark. The play, entitled Secrets of Shady, was embodied by San Pedro based recording artist and entertainer Windy Barnes.
Secrets of Shady functions as an ode to the bitter soul of jazz, peppered with rousing harmonica and ghost-like laughter against the backdrop of live and recorded music played onto the production’s simple lighting and set.
Barnes revealed herself to a rather diverse crowd, sharing borrowed melodies strung between an array of voice over transitions and elaborate costume changes. Here, she serenades an enthralled audience in her silver green kimono, stringing the loose narrative between jazz standards, offset by boudoir illumination.
Compelling vocals, vivid textiles and myriad entendres engaged the show’s near sold out crowd -— despite some distraction from screens flashing in the audience.
The small ensemble performance evoked a bit of contemporary podcast energy, invoking many of the greatest black artists of the 20th century through down-home anecdotes and fictitious imaginative concert scenes; “I know a place ain’t nobody crying.” The extracted arc of a fictional star on the historical chitterling circuit, where “they slept in the car or somebody’s floor.”
This homage towards aging romance, filled with implied sexuality and abrupted gel shifts; interspersed with flashback, medley and monologue was framed by the poetic license of implied audience participation.
Unseen musician, tucked behind a half hidden piano; offstage voices proclaimed the piece’s protagonist ‘better than Muddy and Etta—’ quite a high bar to ascend beyond. Between transitions, Windy sauntered on and off in-character. Signature flower, glowing in makeshift blacklight with hip shimmy bravado as bits of dialogue assured us, “she was that good.”
The semi-defined chronology spanning 25 years, she sang gospel tunes in a translucent camisole over her simple summer dress— displaying robust vocalization to consistent applause. A story rife with recitals and abridged narrative, stretching for the colloquialism of Zora Neale Hurston— the melodrama ended with a lesson on carpe diem; in a black gown with sleeves opening into a trailing cape, the melancholic post lude offset by nice hats and gaudy theatrical boas.
The supportive audience reveled in Shady’s undercurrent of soul classics; a taste of nostalgia comforting listeners through the current uncertainty of our fraught sociopolitical landscape. Ms. Barnes held the stage— now in shimmering lilac, her technical singing espousing virginal virtue against stirring themes of assault and murder — frequently peppered with a soliloquist’s chortles between built-in applause breaks and countless changes of dress. Without question, she can hold that note.
The show ended to a standing ovation, a coda to the heartstring tugging and impressive vocal range, accented by enthusiastic (if nonspecific) physical business on the carefully curated stage. Music stand, songbook and classic -old school -radio microphone; Smart phones, straining to capture the moment: “Here’s to you.”
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