Energetic play tells story of one slave
York, the man, was a slave who accompanied William Clark on the Lewis and Clark Expedition.
“York,” the world premiere, is an exhilarating one-man show by David Casteal and Bryan Harnetiaux about this enigmatic historical figure.
Enigmatic, because little is actually known about York. He is mentioned only briefly in the expedition’s journals. He never published a journal of his own, since he could not read or write.
However, Harnetiaux and Casteal bring York playfully and passionately alive in this creatively fertile 90-minute play.
Casteal portrays York as a whirlwind, a force of nature, a vital, laughing, raging bundle of muscle and brain. York is little Billy Clark’s companion and equal when they are growing up on the plantation; a valuable and competent expedition member on the long trek west, and nothing but an item to discard when the expedition is over.
Casteal is fascinating to watch in his more thoughtful moments, such as when he’s reminiscing about his boyhood in the plantation kitchen, and in his wilder moments, when he snarls and stomps like a caged animal to intimidate a tribe on the Missouri. Casteal is also a prodigiously talented African drummer, a talent he uses sometimes to accent the dialogue and at other times in place of dialogue.
Faced with little in the way of solid historical evidence, Harnetiaux and Casteal do a remarkable job of imagining who York must have been. He was proud, tough, skilled, sensitive to slights, and, in the end, resentful of his treatment. On the expedition he could bark directions to a white oarsman in a river rapid. Yet when he returns to civilization, he becomes a slave again.
The script, which is still a work in progress, does not always overcome the twin problems that are inherent in this kind of one-man historical play.
First, York must deliver an awful lot of expository dialogue. We don’t always get to see the events of his life unfold; we must be content with hearing York tell about them. Actually, Harnetiaux (who has credit for the book, while Casteal gets credit for the drum rhythms) does an excellent job of keeping the exposition at a minimum during the actual expedition. The parts before and after, however, tend to be more burdened with exposition.
The second problem is that, even with all of this explanation, the narrative thread is not always clear. I became lost during portions of York’s childhood story and then toward the end when he came back from the expedition. I have a feeling that on a second viewing of this play I might figure out why he was standing in front of a sign that said, “York Tonite.” But not on the first viewing.
Yet this script has one tremendous advantage. It has the compelling and already familiar story of the expedition dominating the middle. Here, Harnetiaux and Casteal are freed from the need to explain, which allows them to create thrilling vignettes of Indian dances and river rapids and bear attacks.
“York” is a work of imagination as much as work of history and in the end the play imagines him as bitter over his treatment. That’s certainly easy to believe, but I had trouble believing a scene where York goes to the extreme of dressing down President Jefferson to his face.
Still, director Susan Hardie’s production is full of energy and passion and excitement. At the end, I felt privileged to be a witness to such astonishing creative energy. This is one expedition I would encourage everyone to take.