We’ve had some chat about different aspects of Justin Cowan and Kamilah Bush’s Hedda Freeman, beginning with the first table reading, and there is lots of supplemental information on the WordPress website to help cast and crew fill in their contextual understanding of the play. However, here are a few specific topics that may also help us get a grasp on some other ideas that the play engages:

 

1) While we haven’t seen the final set design yet—and sets provide information,
not just physical reality—we have already gotten some clues about the play from
the poster and artwork. With visual images of the rowhouses where Hedda lives
indicating the upper-middle class world that these characters inhabit, and
iconography of Washington, D.C. in the background, the startling black flag is
what catches our eye the most. That’s a sign from the designer and creators that we
should pay special attention to it. In this case, the black flag is a military reference,
not a Black Power flag; there are plenty of Black Power symbols surrounding the
neighborhood where the play is set. Rather, the black flag is a military symbol that
signals, “No quarter given.” In other words, there will be no prisoners taken; this is
a fight to the death. Think about what that means in Hedda’s case. The dramatic
conflict in this play is a matter of life and death. For more on why the stakes are so
high, see notes in the other part of this website about the Apollonian and Dionysian
forces that the main characters represent.

 

2) It is ironic—high-key ironic—that Hedda is married to a white man whose
academic specialty is anthropology and sociology, particularly of Black
populations. These sciences are gateways into understanding social and personal
and cultural practices, and yet George seems to be blind to what is going on with
his wife. Perhaps that’s why Elliot’s book has displaced George’s work at
Georgetown and has rendered his teaching position to be tentative at best.

 

3) In another ironic turn, Hedda makes reference to The Fire Next Time, the title
of a book of political commentary by African American political firebrand/prophet
James Baldwin. The title is prophetic, signaling the warning that payback is
coming, and it’s gonna be a bad bitch.

 

4) The professorial position at Georgetown is critical to both George and Elliot, as
well as Hedda’s envisioning of the reputation that comes with it. As we know,
George is concerned with the financial challenges incurred by buying such an
expensive home, in an expensive neighborhood, that is about to be renovated and
redecorated. His stacks are shrinking, if he even had stacks in the first place. With
the cost of properties and living in DC (one of the most expensive areas to live in
the country), even his starting salary from Georgetown will leave very little money
leftover after the monthly bills are paid—and then there is Hedda, whose expensive
tastes are going to suck up the rest, if not more. See the information on salaries
and home costs elsewhere on the website. If George loses this position, life and his
marriage are going to get dicey. Very dicey. Extremely dicey. Like super-dicey.

Basically, you don’t want to be in his position.
Similarly, Elliot is also smelling that salary and stability, after his personal life has
tanked. In fact, things were so tough for him that he had to take up teaching
Thea’s kids as a source of income. Thea’s got coins—Potomac has one of the
highest average income levels in the country–and Thea wants him, but he doesn’t
want Thea in the same way. He needs the job. He’s about to get the job. All he
needs to do is produce the book—and we know how his hopes and his manuscript
are literally crushed. Of course, if George and Thea are able to recreate it, then
guess who gets the coins and the job.

 

5) Justin and Kamilah were really smart in crafting the dialogue to this script. For
example, one character refers to “this American Dream” of a house. We’ve all
heard of “The American Dream.” What does it mean? What have you assumed it
means? It’s an especially loaded concept, and the use of the term here is also
somewhat ironic, given what we know about how George and Hedda really can’t
afford their “American Dream.” It’s risky. It’s dangerous. It may become a
nightmare.

 

6) Hiring practices at the vast majority of universities in the U.S. are pretty
standard and are subject to a series of procedures and controls intended to ensure
that the university’s philosophy is upheld—and, for more prestigious universities
like Georgetown, to ensure that the new hires bring recognition, respect, and
dollars into the university in terms of grants and gifts and donations. At base,
nobody gets hired just because they know someone. If that is the case, imagine
what it means when Jack begins to suggest that he knows people on the board at
the university—and there are two governing boards at Georgetown. It must
suggest that he has critical influence—which comes in the way of either dirty, sexy
money, or just plain dirty laundry. As we see in the script, Jack has no compunction in using his influence to his advantage. Therefore, he’s either got a massive bank account or massive intel on somebody very powerful. This is not just about doing a favor for a friend; this is about people making power plays, and as we have seen, power plays have a steep cost. He says that he lives “just a stone’s throw away from Hedda.” In other words, he is dangerously, harmfully close to her.

 

7) Hedda, however, doesn’t seem to be particularly close to anyone, at least not intentionally, though she wants to get all up on Elliot. Part of the reason is her Dionysian approach to Elliot’s Apollonian beauty—and “beauty” is a word that comes out of her mouth a lot. Nonetheless, she is, in a sense, a woman alone. As the socially successful daughter of a politically powerful military father, she has reached up into the lifestyles of the potentially rich and powerful. However, while she is surrounded by clear signals and signifiers of Black power and success—the MLK Memorial, the African American History Museum, and right in the house, the looming presence of her father in his portrait. The goal is so close, she doesn’t even have to look out of her window to see it; it is inescapable. She longs for power. Why might that be? Without even getting into the psychological profile that would inform her early life, she is a lone African American woman in a world of white people. While Breona is in the house, Breona is not someone who can grant her power. In fact, consider how little interaction they have in the play, and the nature of that interaction. They are not even close to being sorority sisters. Even if they were, one might suspect that Hedda was a member of Alpha Kappa Alpha or Delta Sigma Theta, the first sororities founded at Howard University, and Breona was a member of Sigma Gamma Rho, founded at the less-prestigious Butler University. They inhabit different worlds, and while Breona may be an upand-coming designer, she hasn’t hit the big-time yet—not in DC terms. Therefore, Hedda is alone, and when her in-law family makes all kinds of “Look how down I am with the fam” references to Black cultural references, that isolation is highlighted.

 

Those are some things to think about as we think about Hedda—and Hedda
Freeman.