Baby, The Rain Must Fall

Earlier this week I commiserated with an acquaintance about the unfortunate air quality resulting from the disastrous Camp Fire in Butte County that incinerated the town of Paradise, California (known to one exceptionally powerful idiot as "Pleasure"). "Let's not forget that, for us at least, this is a temporary inconvenience," I said. "For those who have lost everything during the Camp and Woolsey fires, this month will change their lives forever."

Under normal circumstances during the days before Thanksgiving, most people are shopping for groceries, packing for air travel, checking out Black Friday deals, and hoping to celebrate the holiday with friends and family. I'm one of the odd ducks who, over the years, has come to treasure the luxury of spending Thanksgiving Day and Christmas alone, luxuriating in the solitude and relishing long hours filled with peace and quiet.

This year, on the day before Thanksgiving, I awoke to one of my favorite things: listening to the sound of rain as I laid in bed while slowly transitioning back to the real world after a night of incredible dreams. On Thanksgiving morning, as I sat down at my desk, I looked out the window and, for the first time in two weeks did not see a darkened sky filled with smoke. Instead, the view was radiantly blue with an occasional puffy white cloud drifting into sight. If the best things in life are free, this was truly cause for celebration.


Although some parts of the globe were besieged by hurricanes, typhoons, and tsunamis this year, for drought areas like Northern California, there are many reasons to give thanks for rain. As I laid in bed listening to the music of rain, I was reminded of a lyric Stephen Sondheim wrote for 1971's Follies.

A Stephen Sondheim lyric from 1971's Follies

As children, many of us chanted a popular nursery rhyme ("Rain, rain go away, come again another day") that dates back to sometime in the 17th century. Many songwriters have been inspired by one simple word: rain. Some of their best efforts have produced:

• "Singin' in the Rain" (written by Arthur Freed and Nacio Herb Brown in 1929 and given new life in 1952's movie musical of the same name).
• "Stormy Weather" (a popular torch song written by Ted Koehler and Harold Arlen in 1933 that was first sung by Ethel Waters at the Cotton Club and, in 1943, by Lena Horne in a movie with the same name as her song).
• "Come Rain or Come Shine" (written by Harold Arlen and Johnny Mercer for 1946's St. Louis Woman).
• "The Rain in Spain" (written by Alan Jay Lerner and Frederick Loewe for 1956's My Fair Lady). 
• "Soon It's Gonna Rain" (written by Tom Jones and Harvey Schmidt for 1960's The Fantasticks).
• "Don't Rain On My Parade" (written by Bob Merrill and Jule Styne for 1964's Funny Girl). 
• "Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head" (written by Hal David and Burt Bacharach for 1969's Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid). 

During the 1960s, the Broadhurst Theatre was home to two vastly underrated musicals in which rain became a key plot point. Based on N. Richard Nash's 1954 play, The Rainmaker, and featuring music by Tom Jones and Harvey Schmidt, 1963's 110 in the Shade included a song in which a con man who calls himself Starbuck (Robert Horton) boasts of his ability to make it rain.


Two years later, Tommy Steele delighted audiences in Half A Sixpence with a big production number entitled "If The Rain's Got to Fall" (written by David Heneker and Beverley Cross).


From the gusty squalls that threaten the residents of Catfish Row in 1935's Porgy and Bess to a mother's stern relationship advice in 1967's Hallelujah, Baby! ("Storm's a comin', baby, pull in your sails!"), rain -- and the storms that bring it -- have always inspired playwrights and songwriters.

* * * * * * * * *

Berkeley Repertory Theatre is currently hosting the West Coast premiere of Nilaja Sun’s one-woman show entitled Pike St., a tour de force which keeps the Obie Award-winning actress (and former schoolteacher) moving at lightning speed while juggling several characters from Manhattan’s Lower East Side.

After living through Hurricane Sandy, when Sun received a commission from the Epic Theatre Ensemble she wanted to write a piece related to the hurricane; perhaps a monologue about a day in the life of a hurricane. The action in Pike St. takes place on the day before a hurricane slams into New York City, causing widespread damage. Some residents of an apartment building on the Lower East Side are more prepared for the storm than others; some have fewer options for survival. As Sun explains:

“Having lived on the Lower East Side for so long (and been raised on the 20th floor of an apartment building), I know many elderly or disabled folks who can’t walk down 20 flights of stairs during a storm, who can’t run to a shelter before (or after) Mother Nature goes on the attack. These people have been a part of my heart, almost a part of my DNA, for this entire time."

Nilaja Sun in a scene from Pike St.
(Photo by: Teresa Castracane)

"Following Hurricane Sandy, the Lower East Side was one of those neighborhoods that just could not recover their electricity and running water. When the area regained some semblance of what it used to be like and feel like, I thought that, as an artist, it would be interesting to create a piece that is fun to watch but also deep. I wanted to create a piece so that the next time there is a hurricane or some kind of disaster (man-made or Mother Nature-made), audiences would think about those who can’t necessarily run out of their apartment. Or to a shelter.”

As the audience enters the theatre, they find Sun seated onstage in a chair, her face contorted in a series of grimaces while her body seems to resemble that of a quadriplegic. The initial encounter can make some people uncomfortable, but they soon learn that Sun is not merely doing a warm-up exercise. As the house light dim, she leaps up and asks the audience to join her in some breathing exercises that can help them remain alert for the show while ridding the room of any bad juju.

Sun quickly transitions into Evelyn, a single mother who lives in a five-story tenement with her father. “Papi” loves to play the lottery, starts drinking rum early in the day and, like a lecherous old goat, eagerly awaits a visit from his girlfriend.

Meanwhile, Evelyn is struggling to get through to Con Edison in order to ensure that her 15-year-old daughter is covered for emergency service that will keep her respirator going. Candi was once an exceptionally bright and inquisitive young girl. However, due to a partially ruptured aneurysm, she is now on life support and unable to communicate. The last time a big storm hit New York, Evelyn and Candi tried to go to a shelter, but Candi drew so much negative attention that, this time around, Evelyn has chosen to wait out the storm in their apartment.

As Evelyn waits for a service representative to come on line, Mrs. Greenbaum enters the apartment. An elderly neighbor who has become increasingly confused, Mrs. Greenbaum claims to have lived through both the Great Depression and the Renaissance, confuses size D batteries with “Double D’s,” and thinks Candi is still an toddler.

Nilaja Sun in a scene from Pike St.
(Photo by: Teresa Castracane)

While there is great deal of trepidation about the incoming storm, this is also a day of celebration as Evelyn’s kid brother, Manny, returns home from a tour of duty in Afghanistan. A local hero to the neighborhood kids who have seen him on television in his soldier’s uniform, they are  thrilled to meet him and learn how to give a proper salute. Meanwhile, Manny’s best friend wastes no time getting him stoned without realizing how loud noises might trigger Manny’s PTSD.

Sent to the nearby bodega store to pick up some supplies for Evelyn and Mrs. Greenbaum, Manny (who knows the lottery numbers his father always plays), starts feeling triggered and becomes violent, which scares the old Arab woman at the cash register, who gently insists that she doesn’t want to have any trouble in her store.

Filled with a combination of raucous humor and intense poignancy, Sun's hyper-energetic performance is guaranteed to impress and entertain. Performances of Pike St. continue at the Berkeley Repertory Theatre through December 16 (click here for tickets).