To listen to Billie Holiday is to find oneself in emotional limbo. Greatest hits or deep cuts, it makes no difference, even a cursory listen leaves one feeling as if they’re suspended between the ecstasy of her unmistakable sound and the sheer devastation of the story she weaves.
That same tension extends, for better or worse, to Lanie Robertson’s bio-drama, Lady Day at Emerson’s Bar and Grill, directed by Reginald L. Douglas in a co-production of Mosaic Theater Company and Washington Performing Arts.
In Robertson’s play, though, the first time the audience hears Holiday’s voice (delivered and portrayed by Roz White) is not in song, but in shout. Refusing to come onstage, she eventually emerges after some coaxing from the audience and her band. She needs the money and has signed a contract, so she reluctantly returns to Emerson’s Bar and Grill in Philadelphia for another night of singing for her supper. And for the next 90 minutes, Holiday trots out her contractually obligated greatest hits and drinks herself into one of the stupors that would eventually contribute to her premature death at age 44 in 1959.
While Holiday’s struggle with addiction is well known, aided in part by films such as 1972’s Lady Sings the Blues and 2021’s The United States vs. Billie Holiday, Robertson’s play is an obvious ticking bomb for disaster in real time. It is evident from the first moments that we are heading somewhere bad—and quickly—as the band plays on.
As Holiday unravels before the audience’s eyes, she piles on story after story of triumph (seemingly scant in Robertson’s telling) and tribulation (an avalanche of addiction, sexual abuse, incarceration, and, most consistently, racial discrimination). If Robertson’s point is that everyone in Holliday’s life failed her, he makes it abundantly clear and difficult to disagree. It wasn’t only the lover who encouraged her to try heroin for the first time, or just the mother who pushed her toward sex work and abuse. It wasn’t even just the racists who humiliated her time after time who pushed her to the brink. Forget the United States, it was the World vs. Billie Holiday.
But as if singing that old familiar tune, Robertson cuts the devastation with ecstasy, slotting uptempo bops like “What a Little Moonlight Can Do” and well-known Holiday hits including “Strange Fruit” and “God Bless the Child” between the stories. The mood of the audience noticeably lifts when the music begins, and therein lies some tension that Lady Day at Emerson’s Bar and Grill can’t quite overcome.
Even in death, Holiday is still singing for her supper, raising the question of whether a modern audience is still complicit in her downfall by remembering her this way. Are we entitled to Holiday’s struggles and songs for our entertainment?
In stories of great adversity, audiences often seek the comfort of final acts of heroism or victory. But in the case of historical fiction based on a true story, the editorial strings can only stretch so far. We know that Lady Day at Emerson’s Bar and Grill finds her in a valley of her life. We know that Holiday would soon succumb to the wounds of her addiction. We know that not every story has a happy ending. But in watching Holiday fall apart over and over again, are we paying tribute to a legend or perpetuating her exploitation?
As Holiday, White appears to wrestle with the dignity of tribute and indignity of the role as written. Especially in the ample profanities Holiday tosses around in her between-song banter, White seems almost self-conscious in showing the singer’s grittier side. She grows into the role as the play continues on, however, leveraging each song to convey her obvious admiration for Holiday and expanding to the space in several exquisite musical performances. These are moments of love, and they make the heartbreak worth it. She rightfully resists any urge to do what some might recognize as a “Billie Holiday impression,” instead developing a freestanding character at the nexus of her own artistic strengths and Robertson’s text.
She is backed by an apt trio of musicians: William Knowles (on the keys as music director, and playing Holiday’s apologetic accompanist Jimmy Powers), Greg Holloway (drums), and Mark Saltman (bass). The trio provides dutiful backup for White and have the opportunity to shine in a few instrumental numbers when Holiday storms offstage. As Holiday descends into an intoxicated stupor, though, the band appears unaware, even as she hunches over and clings to the mic for stability. Are they, too, an extended metaphor for the enablers on and offstage who allowed Holiday to deteriorate while extracting her talent? Or are they simply caught up in the music?
The high ceiling and broad width of Atlas Performing Arts Center’s Sprenger Theatre challenge scenic designer Nadir Bey’s best efforts to conjure a cozy basement bar. The intimate play sometimes appears overwhelmed by the space, as banquette seating wraps around the perimeter of the room and hovers a level above the stage-side tables. But lighting designer Jesse Belsky’s moody blue and pink washes contribute tremendously to the coziness, especially when coupled with yellow pendants hanging overhead throughout the room. Ian Vespermann’s sound design is well-balanced and rightfully puts White’s vocalization front and center. Costume designer Moyenda Kulemeka has White in a creamy dress with floral flourishes to match the signature gardenia she places in her hair (wig design is by Larry Peterson). And as director, Douglas brings these elements together in an ultimately strong, straightforward production of a tricky play.
Midway through Lady Day at Emerson’s Bar and Grill, Holiday confesses that she’d recently heard a radio host refer to her as “Lady Yesterday.” The gasps from the audience, and the unmistakable joy that White infused into each song, made it abundantly clear that such a crass remark is neither fair, nor true. Despite the struggle she endured, Holiday’s musical legacy continues uninterrupted. Today, tomorrow, and always.
Lady Day at Emerson’s Bar and Grill, written by Lanie Robertson, directed by Reginald L. Douglas, and presented by Mosaic Theater Company in partnership with Washington Performing Arts, runs through Oct. 6 at Atlas Performing Arts Center. 2024 Fall Arts Guide Rating: 3.5 out of 5. mosaictheater.org. $20–$80.