Sweat
“Written by a dramatist of ambitious scope and fierce focus, Sweat is a bracingly topical portrait of American dreams deferred. It warrants serious applause.”
—BEN BRANTLEY, NEW YORK TIMES
“A powerful and compassionate song of blue-collar despair.”
—DAVID ROONEY, HOLLYWOOD REPORTER
“Where can we turn for enlightenment now that the toxic Political Super Bowl is over? Is there anyone to lead us from the simplistic sound bites that have relegated us into enemy camps? Enter Lynn Nottage, a distinguished American playwright who set out to better understand the anger of today’s betrayed working class … Sweat roils with anger and frustration, but these feelings are put in the service of a public good: fostering solidarity where polarization has grown most extreme … Sweat offers a path toward healing for a nation riven by a torturous election. We would all be well served to follow Nottage’s compassionately wise example and venture outside our comfort zones and unplug our ears.”
—CHARLES MCNULTY, LOS ANGELES TIMES
“Sweat is a play that will be performed long after the era it defines has passed.”
—ROBERT HOFLER, WRAP
“An excellent and highly charged play … It is refreshing to hear characters talk about politics as urgently, and realistically, as people are affected by it. Sweat is politics as lived and spoken about on the ground, not as an abstraction, and not as a Washington power-game, or a shrieking panel on CNN. Sweat explains the gestation of discontent, mixed with racism and fears over immigration, that led to many perhaps casting their vote for Trump.”
—TIM TEEMAN, DAILY BEAST
“A brilliant play … No play in recent memory has shed more light on the crises and tribulations of America’s great retrenched working middle class … Nottage writes fully realized characters who, especially when acting on their worst fears, are grippingly human … Sweat never feels less than authentic—and crucial.”
—JEREMY GERARD, DEADLINE
BOOKS BY LYNN NOTTAGE PUBLISHED BY TCG
By the Way, Meet Vera Stark
Crumbs from the Table of Joy and Other Plays
ALSO INCLUDES:
Las Meninas
Mud, River, Stone
POOF!
Por’knockers
Intimate Apparel and Fabulation
Ruined
Sweat
Sweat is copyright © 2017 by Lynn Nottage
Sweat is published by Theatre Communications Group, Inc.,
520 Eighth Avenue, 24th Floor, New York, NY 10018-4156
All rights reserved. Except for brief passages quoted in newspaper, magazine, radio or television reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying or recording, or by an information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Professionals and amateurs are hereby warned that this material, being fully protected under the Copyright Laws of the United States of America and all other countries of the Berne and Universal Copyright Conventions, is subject to a royalty. All rights, including but not limited to, professional, amateur, recording, motion picture, recitation, lecturing, public reading, radio and television broadcasting, and the rights of translation into foreign languages are expressly reserved. Particular emphasis is placed on the question of readings and all uses of this book by educational institutions, permission for which must be secured from the author’s representative: Olivier Sultan, Creative Artists Agency, 405 Lexington Avenue, 19th Floor, New York, NY 10174, (212) 277 9000.
“Let America Be America Again,” by Langston Hughes, written in 1935, copyright © 1994 by the Estate of Langston Hughes, from The Collected Poems of Langston Hughes, Alfred A. Knopf, Inc., New York.
The publication of Sweat by Lynn Nottage, through TCG’s Book Program, is made possible in part by the New York State Council on the Arts with the support of Governor Andrew Cuomo and the New York State Legislature.
Special thanks to Paula Marie Black for her generous support of this publication.
TCG books are exclusively distributed to the book trade by Consortium Book Sales and Distribution.
Library of Congress Control Numbers:
2017000957 (print) / 2017006056 (ebook)
ISBN 978-1-55936-854-4 (ebook)
A catalog record for this book is available from the Library of Congress.
Book design and composition by Lisa Govan
Cover design by Mark Melnick
Cover photographs by Henry Sene Yee
First Edition, May 2017
For Wallace Nottage
Contents
Special Thanks
Production History
Characters
Setting
Act One
Scene 1
Scene 2
Scene 3
Scene 4
Scene 5
Scene 6
Scene 7
Act Two
Scene 1
Scene 2
Scene 3
Scene 4
Scene 5
Scene 6
Transition
Scene 7
Scene 8
About the Author
SPECIAL THANKS TO:
Bill Rauch, Alison Carey, Julie Felise Dubiner, Molly Smith, Oskar Eustis, Mandy Hackett, Maria Goyanes, Mica Cole, and Robert Barry Fleming.
Stuart Thompson and Louise L. Gund.
John Eisner, Arthur Kopit, The Lark, Christopher Oscar Peña, Kimber Lee, Rogelio Martinez, Gus Schulenburg, Emily Mann, The McCarter Theatre, and Kevin Emrick.
A heartfelt thanks to Travis Ballenger, Kate Whoriskey, Tony Gerber, Santo D. Marabella, Olivier Sultan, Pat Giles, William Davis, Doug Graybill, Dean Showers, United Steel Workers—Local 6996, Phillip Howze, Ruby Aiyo Gerber, Melkamu Gerber, Todd Leatherman, Erin Washington, Amber Espinosa-Jones, Violet Overn, and the people of Reading who opened up their lives to me.
And my gratitude to the spectacular cast, designers, and crew at Oregon Shakespeare Festival; Arena Stage; The Public Theater; and Studio 54, Broadway.
In memory of Ruth M. Mathews.
PRODUCTION HISTORY
Sweat was co-commissioned by the Oregon Shakespeare Festival (Bill Rauch, Artistic Director; Cynthia Rider, Executive Director) through its American Revolutions: The United States History Cycle and the Arena Stage (Molly Smith, Artistic Director; Edgar Dobie, Executive Producer), and received its world premiere at the Oregon Shakespeare Festival in Ashland, Oregon, on July 29, 2015. The production was directed by Kate Whoriskey. The set design was by John Lee Beatty, the costume design was by Jennifer Moeller, the lighting design was by Peter Kaczorowski, the sound design was by Michael Bodeen and Rob Milburn, the video design was by Jeff Sugg, the fight direction was by U. Jonathan Toppo, and the dramaturgy was by Julie Felise Dubiner; the production stage manager was Jill Rendall. The cast was:
EVAN
Tyrone Wilson
JASON
Stephen Michael Spencer
CHRIS
Tramell Tillman
STAN
Jack Willis
OSCAR
Carlo Albán
TRACEY
Terri McMahon
CYNTHIA
Kimberly Scott
JESSIE
K. T. Vogt
BRUCIE
Kevin Kenerly
The production opened at the Arena Stage in Washington, D.C. on January 15, 2016. All personnel remained the same with the following exceptions: the production stage manager was Kurt Hall. The cast was:
EVAN
Tyrone Wilson
JASON
Stephen Michael Spencer
CHRIS
Tramell Tillman
STAN
> Jack Willis
OSCAR
Reza Salazar
TRACEY
Johanna Day
CYNTHIA
Kimberly Scott
JESSIE
Tara Mallen
BRUCIE
Kevin Kenerly
Sweat received its New York premiere at the Public Theater (Oskar Eustis, Artistic Director; Patrick Willingham, Executive Director) on November 3, 2016. The production was directed by Kate Whoriskey. The set design was by John Lee Beatty, the costume design was by Jennifer Moeller, the lighting design was by Peter Kaczorowski, the sound design was by Michael Bodeen and Rob Milburn, the video design was by Jeff Sugg, the fight direction was by U. Jonathan Toppo, hair and makeup design were by Leah J. Loukas; the production stage manager was Donald Fried, and the stage manager was Alexandra Hall. The cast was:
EVAN
Lance Coadie Williams
JASON
Will Pullen
CHRIS
Khris Davis
STAN
James Colby
OSCAR
Carlo Albán
TRACEY
Johanna Day
CYNTHIA
Michelle Wilson
JESSIE
Miriam Shor
BRUCIE
John Earl Jelks
The production received its Broadway premiere on March 26, 2017 at Studio 54. It was produced by Stuart Thompson and Louise L. Gund. The co-producers were Tulchin Bartner Productions, Jon B. Platt, Roy Furman, Len Blavatnik, Shelly Mitchell, Scott Rudin, Ted Snowdon, Kevin Emrick, True Love Productions, John Gore, Deborah Taylor/Richard Winkler, and The Public Theater. The personnel and cast remained the same with the following exception:
JESSIE
Alison Wright
CHARACTERS
EVAN, African-American, forties
JASON, white American of German descent, twenty-one/twenty-nine
CHRIS, African-American, twenty-one/twenty-nine
STAN, white American of German descent, fifties
OSCAR, Colombian-American, twenty-two/thirty
TRACEY, white American of German descent, forty-five/fifty-three
CYNTHIA, African-American, forty-five/fifty-three
JESSIE, Italian-American, forties
BRUCIE, African-American, forties
All of the characters were born in Berks County, Pennsylvania.
SETTING
Reading, Pennsylvania
TIME
2000/2008
NOTE
A ( // ) indicates where overlapping dialogue should begin.
In general the dialogue should have the free-flowing velocity of a bar conversation: people step on each other’s thoughts, but also occasionally find moments of silence and introspection.
O, yes,
I say it plain,
America never was America to me,
And yet I swear this oath—
America will be!
Out of the rack and ruin of our gangster death,
The rape and rot of graft, and stealth, and lies,
We, the people, must redeem
The land, the mines, the plants, the rivers.
The mountains and the endless plain—
All, all the stretch of these great green states—
And make America again!
—Langston Hughes
ACT ONE
SCENE 1
September 29, 2008
Outside it’s 72°F.
In the news: The 63rd session of the United Nations General Assembly convenes. The Dow Jones Industrial Average falls 778.68 points, marking the largest single-day decline in stock market history. Reading residents sample fresh apple cider at the Annual Fall Festival on Old Dry Road Farm.
Music. Lights up.
Parole office. Spare. Institutional.
Jason (white American, twenty-nine), hair closely shorn. He has a black eye and white supremacist tattoos inked across his face. Evan (African-American, forties), comfortably puffy.
EVAN: So, you got a job?
JASON: Yeah.
EVAN: I’m not gonna run down everything. You know the drill.
JASON: Yeah.
EVAN: So, you’re making pretzels?
JASON: Yeah.
(A moment.)
EVAN: Soft?
JASON: Yeah.
EVAN: Living at the same address?
JASON: Yeah.
EVAN: The mission?
JASON: Yeah, finally got a bed downstairs.
EVAN: That’s real good. I hear that shelter’s pretty clean.
JASON: Yeah, but fucking guys steal. Can’t have nice stuff. But, um, Father Hunt lets me keep my turtles.
(Jason fidgets. Evan assesses.)
EVAN: So. You gonna tell me what happened?
JASON: What?
EVAN: I know you don’t wanna be here. I don’t wanna be here either.
JASON: Yeah, whatever.
EVAN: Don’t whatever me. I’m not one of your stupid friends, let’s be clear about that.
JASON: Whatever.
EVAN: Try me! I’m not playing fucking games. I’ll knock you clear into tomorrow, understood? But, fortunately for you, I don’t have to, you know why? Because I got this pen, and you know what this pen does?
JASON: Yeah—
EVAN: It writes. And, you know what it’s gonna write if you don’t give me more than one-or two-syllable answers? It’s gonna write that you’re belligerent, defiant, reluctant to observe protocol. You understand those words, Jason?
JASON: Yeah.
EVAN (Voice slowly crescendos): It’s gonna write that you have issues with authority that may prove too challenging. This pen could make things very difficult for you, young man. And you know what happens to young men that don’t cooperate? … Huh? … Huh?
JASON: You asking me?
EVAN: Whatcha think I’m asking—myself? Of course I’m asking you, moron! You want me to ask again?
JASON: No. I don’t need you to ask again.
EVAN: Very good. A sentence. We’re making some progress here. So, what happened?
JASON: I mean … I didn’t do shit.
EVAN: So you didn’t do shit, but someone did … do shit.
JASON: Uh—
EVAN: And, you gave yourself a black eye and busted lip?
(A moment.)
What happened?
JASON: I got sucker-punched.
EVAN: Cuz—?
JASON: I dunno.
EVAN: Some guy just comes up and hits ya. And you, you didn’t do nothing?
JASON: Nah. Not really. I was in the bathroom at Loco’s.
EVAN: Loco’s?
JASON: Yeah, Loco’s.
EVAN: I’m sorry? Loco’s?
JASON: I can’t go to Loco’s?
EVAN: We’ve talked about Loco’s. Go on.
JASON: This big fucking biker dude, I don’t know ’em, like steps up behind me. He’s like you were looking at my girl. I am so, like, dude, I don’t even know who the fuck your girl is. And he’s wearing these huge rings, both fucking hands, like medieval biker knight.
EVAN: Hmm.
JASON: And … then he hits me hard, so hard that I swear to God I see stars. Like Bam! My whole face goes numb. Sparky had to pull ’em off of me.
EVAN: Just because you looked at his girl.
JASON: I didn’t look at his girl, that’s why it’s so fucked up.
EVAN: And if I ask you to piss in this cup, what’s it gonna tell me?
JASON: You don’t gotta believe me, but I’m telling ya the // truth.
EVAN: Okay. There’s the cup.
JASON: What?
EVAN: What do you mean, what?
JASON: C’mon.
EVAN: The cup, pick it up.
JASON: I just got a job. What do you want?
EVAN: I don’t want anything from you, but the state does and it’s my unfortunate job to ensure that you comply.
JASON: Are we gonna do this?
EVAN: Pick it up.
JASON: You are a fucking asshole. Fuck you, nigga!
(A moment. Evan, stone, stares long and hard at Jason.)
(Less committed) Fuck you!
EVAN: Pick it up!
JASON: I got a job. I mean, c’mon, give me a fucking break.
EVAN: Pick … it … up!
(Jason makes a show of picking up the cup.)
Okay. What do you wanna tell me?
(A moment.)
JASON: I dunno.
EVAN: I dunno, either.
JASON: Look—
EVAN: What?
JASON: I dunno.
EVAN: Yeah, we covered that fertile territory. What’s going on Jason?
JASON: Yo, ease up. I’m doing what I am supposed to be doing.
EVAN: You think so? You looking to get back inside?
JASON: … !
EVAN: Might wanna get rid of those tats. We’ve talked about it. They’re gonna cause you trouble out here. Might make you a tough guy inside, out here … guess what? Every time I look at them I wanna punch you out. That’s me being honest. But, lucky for you I’m here to help.
(Jason fidgets.)
What’s going on Jason? I shouldn’t have to track you down.
(A moment. Jason rolls his eyes.)
JASON: Can I go?
EVAN: We don’t have to talk. It’s no sweat off my back. I’m gonna leave this page blank. How about that? Blank page. You wanna blank page?
JASON: …
EVAN: You in trouble?
JASON: No.
EVAN: I could fish all day. I am a fisherman.
(Jason runs a story through his head, deciding whether to share it.)
JASON: I—
EVAN: Yeah—
JASON: Ran into Chris.
(Jason is caught off-guard by his own emotions.)
EVAN: All right? You okay? We knew this might happen. Yeah?
JASON: Yeah.
EVAN: He’s out there. He ain’t going nowhere. Whatcha gonna do about it?
JASON: I dunno. I dunno. The whole time inside, I pushed what happened, you know, Chris, all of it, outta my head. Then he was … I dunno, it’s all I can think, you know—