'Dawn' lights up stage with human drama
Joyce Chen
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The spoken words of Jeanne Sakata's "Dawn's Light" may as well be one long stream of consciousness, offset at the start and finish by a giant set of parentheses.
Sakata has the extraordinary ability both to capture the nuances of one man's experiences and to elicit emotions from the audience based on a stranger's story - a feat that makes the production more than just a strong soliloquy.
The one-man play follows the life of Gordon Hirabayashi, a college professor reflecting on his days growing up as a second-generation Japanese American, a Nisei, during World War II, and his struggle to find a place somewhere within the confining lines of the United States Constitution.
Hirabayashi's story is one of frustration and morality, about the inherent inequalities of life as the "other" during that trying time, but it is also a tale of spirit and possibility.
What makes the piece so comprehensive is that Sakata interweaves lighter stories about Sadie Hawkins dances and stargazing with the type of intense social significance found in heavy history tomes.
She gives Hirabayashi's character light, charismatic banter about serious issues, poking fun at the discriminatory signs posted on storefronts and in restaurants following the bombing of Pearl Harbor, mimicking the stubborn nature of American politics - and this approach is effective.
Productions based largely on historical events often run the risk of being dry and didactic; by contrast, Sakata's storytelling techniques make Hirabayashi's plight colorful, and a relatable one at that.
Ryun Yu, who plays Hirabayashi to perfection, moves about the stage with the agility of a restless friend, pacing and gesturing.
His transition into other characters - Hirabayashi's concerned mother, a sheriff in Tucson, Ariz., judges deliberating his fate - is less mockery, more description. Yu switches between the different personas smoothly, and it is obvious that this skill comes from studied practice and intuition. Watching a grown man talk to himself has never seemed more normal.
Nor has studying the maturation of an individual ever been so fascinating. The play spans Hirabayashi's evolution from a na've little boy, complacently accepting the racial standards of a prewar America, to an adult questioning the morality of unlawful discrimination.
It is amazing that, in a little more than an hour, Yu is able to convey this sense of progression. Costume changes are minimal and the background and lighting fade in and out almost imperceptibly; the transformation is in the eyes of the viewer and the subtleties of the actor's movement.
But this is not to trivialize the role of the production's artistic direction. Its impact also lies in Sakata's understanding that elements such as sound effects and dramatic lighting can add flair to a narrative without becoming an overt part of the production.
The sound, lighting and images are well choreographed: From the swish of fluttering papers to the slats of red revealing a skewed American flag, every symbol has a purpose, every pose is deliberate.
The deeply human approach that Sakata takes with "Dawn's Light" gives it the strength necessary to tackle touchy issues like Japanese internment camps and racial prejudice without hitting the audience over the head with morality.
The production is well thought-out, crafted as a work of art complete with parenthetical commentary, rather than a story with corresponding artwork. (And that's the best kind.)


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