As the house lights came down last night in Spaulding Auditorium, the audience heard a deep resonant voice speaking grave words, but saw only a dimly lit silhouette. Sekou Sundiata opened his act in tribute to James Kirk and Jean Luc Picard, making reference to and new frontiers in true Star Trek form. Despite this rather comedic opening, the mood took a sudden shift as he repeated the poetic words of a surgeon relating his experience with the scalpel.
It was an experience that Sekou knows well, his kidneys having failed in the middle of a blossoming career. It is that ordeal that inspired "blessing of the boats." The artist found his love for poetry in the project and with a fellow friend he began to write.
In poetic, narrative and theatrical form the artist explored the contrast between the world he knows as a poet and the harsh unforgiving world he came to know as a patient. On stage with only a desk, a podium and a television screen, Sundiata made his case relying only on his words, images and music.
Sundiata's style shifted dramatically throughout the play. The audience heard his voice thunder over the microphone with powerful eloquence one moment and in informal street talk the next. His spoken poetry ranged from the quick and intense to the slow and deliberate.
However, given such a heavy subject matter, Sundiata made light of his situation with a number of funny skits and monologues. In one, he argued with his alter ego. In another, he changed his voice to play a slick salesman. Finally he mocked the helplessness of the patient in the doctor-patient relationship.
But, these comedic interludes in no way diminished the power of Sundiata's words. There were points where he told his story with a single spotlight focused on the podium at which he stood or in front of the giant television monitor as he got into some of the more serious portions of his trying times.
He produced a mother's screams as the news of her toddler's death was broken to her. He conveyed his agony during dialysis. The night's darkest moment came when he horrifically portrayed his attempted suicide by heroin overdose.
As he stood and told these stories, an image often played on the screen behind him. When speaking of surgery, the inside of a heart was being explored on the screen behind him, bathing the stage in red. When telling of his deteriorating condition, the image of a young poet, presumably Sundiata himself, flowed behind him in echo of what he once was. When speaking of his experience with anasthetics, dramatic music echoed in the background, foreshadowing a dramatic style he would come back to again and again.
Sundiata explored in depth the relationship between the organ donor and the recipient. He admitted to, in a state of semi-madness, sizing people up based on the strength of their kidneys. He spoke of his frustration and confusion with friends and relatives who did not even offer to donate an organ.
Near the end of the performance, he narrated his rise to national fame because of Oprah Winfrey's interest in his CD. Through this experience Sundiata got much attention from the media. With this the newfound public interest in his situation came the kidney donation he had so desperately sought. Immediately following this point in the program, a list of patients needing organs ran down the screen behind him, reminding the audience of the many who die for lack of a donor.
In the end, it is the honesty conveyed by the artist that made the night memorable. A gifted poet and lyricist, Sundiata is unafraid to reveal his addiction to drugs or tell of his embarrassing hospital stay.
Through a blend of real-life events, poetry and comedy Sundiata managed to simultaneously present both the transience and the beauty of all life. His piece is both a call for awareness and a call for celebration.
