Long Wharf Theatre is closing out its 60th season with the world premiere of .” It’s a new solo play written and performed by New Haven-based artist Terrence Riggins. Set inside a prison cell, the story draws from Riggins’ own life — from his childhood in Los Angeles, to the stage, to incarceration, and ultimately, to healing. The idea first took shape while he was in solitary confinement at Cheshire Correctional Institution.
Why New Haven — and why this story
There were a couple of factors. You know, coming out of prison, you have an option of two cities because you will come out on parole — so you can’t leave the state. My first choice was New Haven because of my knowledge of the history of August Wilson’s association with the Yale Rep and Lloyd Richards. And because August Wilson played a big part in my theater journey.
Taking back the narrative
I’ve been wanting to do a solo play for years. When I understood the challenges I’d be facing in the world — even getting back into theater and entertainment — I knew I had to create a piece to speak for myself because I was stigmatized. I’m older, I had been incarcerated, and I’m a recovering addict. And the story of my transgression, which led me to prison, was publicized. It was public knowledge. And so I was concerned about that, and I knew I had to take the reins of my career into my own hands.
From solitude to imagination
I went to prison for the theft of a particular piece of artwork. The incident occurred in February 2011. I had come up from New York to visit a friend and, out of opportunism, I pilfered a piece of art. I was arrested in Oakland and then extradited to ǻ. While I was in solitary — because I had gotten into a fight in Cheshire — it was in those days I spent there without entertainment, without books, without community and communication and conversation and games, that I began to imagine. And I have a theatrical imagination. So, the idea of performing for an imaginary audience occurred in that moment.
Finding dignity through vulnerability
The journey of my life — I’ve been in situations where I was quite vulnerable and exposed. The time that I spent homeless, in particular — I was quite exposed and vulnerable. There was no hiding. My self-abandonment, my dereliction, was quite public. And I think during that period of time, living on the streets, and the world really being my home and my community — it allowed me to find my own sense of dignity, even in that condition. So I think it has given me kind of a practice in being able to be authentic on stage — especially because the stakes are not as high. It’s a safe place. You know, it was the world that was kind of a gauntlet of all kinds of tragic possibilities.
Well, speaking of the stage — if you’re open to it, would you share a short excerpt or a line from the play that means something to you?
Yeah. Going back to my homelessness in New York in particular, and the part that the river played — and I’m a Pisces too, so water has a special meaning for me — you know, the river would challenge me. I’d be looking at the East River, and I’d be like, I’m gonna swim it.
So there was one particular time when I was well inebriated and just free and, with reckless abandon, I did. I dove in.
Excerpt from the play
Longing to be reborn this disquiet autumn night, I succumb to the river’s summons, undress, and hurl myself in at 2:22 AM, claiming my right to bathe or drown in the world’s bodies of water. I wade out into its depth, cleansing myself in its strange will. There is darkness and silence. There is no calm. The water is unclean, yet purer than my body and lighter than my soul.
A culmination of craft and life
There is a deep fulfillment, especially at a time in my life where now I can present a culmination of my life — my literary craft, my acting. Yeah. It’s like, if this is the last thing that I do with my life, I will … I’m good.
Learn more
Playwright and actor Terrence Riggins’s new play, “Unbecoming Tragedy: A Ritual Journey Toward Destiny,” begins performances May 11 at Yale’s Off Broadway Theatre in New Haven.