Israel (Manny Buckley, left) and Madison (Jon Hudson Odom) are searching the pain of the past for answers in “The Reclamation of Madison Hemings” at American Blues Theater.
Michael Brosilow
Thomas Jefferson famously began the Declaration of Independence by proclaiming “all men are created equal.” History shows he didn’t really believe that: Over the course of his lifetime, Jefferson kept roughly 600 Black people enslaved at his Monticello home. Among those Jefferson considered property: his own children with Sally Hemings, a toddler when the Founding Father “inherited” her.
With “The Reclamation of Madison Hemings,” playwright Charles Smith puts audiences in the world of two men (both real historical figures) who spent years enslaved at Monticello: Sally’s son Madison (Jon Hudson Odom) and Israel Gillette Jefferson (Manny Buckley).
Directed by Chuck Smith, the American Blues Theater production running through March 24 explores the profound contradictions between Jefferson’s words and his actions while holding a mirror up to those ingrained in U.S. history.
Madison Hemings was one of five people freed (all members of the Hemings family) when Jefferson died in 1826, per the provisions of his will. The rest of Monticello’s laborers were put up for auction upon Jefferson’s death, their families broken apart as they were sold off.
“Reclamation” unfolds over five days in mid-November, 1866 — roughly 19 months after the end of the Civil War. With the war won and slavery abolished, Israel has returned to a deserted Monticello determined to find Moses, the brother he last saw on the auction block decades ago. Madison is committed to helping Israel and reclaiming a piece of Monticello for himself.
As the two men make camp on the plantation grounds, they create an unvarnished portrait of lives lost and families destroyed at the hands of an iconic statesman who claimed men as property while simultaneously proclaiming to the world that all men were equal.
But while Thomas Jefferson’s legacy looms unseen over “Reclamation,” this is definitely not his story. Smith, the playwright, centers the two-hander squarely on Israel and Madison. It’s not their former owner who drives their ambitions and dreams. It’s instead a pantheon of family members lost at auction or killed while enslaved at Monticello, their voices never quite audible but swirling like a thicket of phantoms as Madison and Israel attempt to remake their lives and honor the countless forebears who lived and died in the service of Jefferson.
Smith’s dialogue is an intricate dance between the personal and the political, both tangled around the ideals of a nation founded on “self evident” truths that sound noble in theory but didn’t apply to millions of people.
“Reclamation” could do with some pruning — the pacing opening night wasn’t as tight as it could have been, and playwright Smith’s dialogue gets a bit repetitive on occasion. Those quibbles are a small price to pay for the chance to see Odom and Buckley — both actors of formidable prowess — pour everything they’ve got into a story as haunting as it is historical. Smith, the director, has shaped a drama that you can’t look away from, much as you might want to.
Odom’s mercurial, idealistic Madison Hemings and Buckley’s comparatively grounded, skeptical Israel Jefferson are a study in contrasts, even as they are bound by their time toiling at Monticello.
As the drama opens, Madison has been a farmer in Ohio for years and has maintained a close-knit family. Israel has been free only since the war ended some 19 months earlier, and has no idea where his family is. Madison believes the war has ended racism. Israel wonders if anything has really changed all that much. Winning the war, Israel notes in one of many acid-etched observations, won’t change the views or the actions of those who believe that Black people are inherently inferior to whites.
As their contrasting attitudes play out, both Israel and Madison invoke the memory of Monticello’s dead and disappeared, the names of their vanished ancestors becoming a reverent litany that propels one of the production’s most unforgettable scenes.
Jonathan Berg-Einhorn’s set is dominated by a teetering wagon that becomes increasingly laden with Monticello bric-a-brac as the story moves forward, a visual metaphor for the past the men have survived and the future they’re trying to build.
Smith, the director, keeps the intensity level high throughout, tempering it with moments of undeniable humor. The result is a taut, troubling tale that de-deifies a nearly mythic figure in U.S. History while at the same time giving voice to the millions the Founders didn’t include as equals even as they declared independence and equality for all.