THE BLUES MEAN BUSINESS

A superb ensemble brings August Wilson’s recording
studio to life as music, ambition, and exploitation collide

There is something almost intoxicating, and ultimately suffocating, about being inside the recording studio with the musicians in Round House Theatre’s production of August Wilson’s Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom. Music, laughter and teasing fill the room, but beneath the camaraderie is an undercurrent of tension that grows stronger with every passing moment.

Directed by Lili-Anne Brown, this co-production with Olney Theatre Center launches Round House Theatre’s 50th anniversary season, bringing Wilson’s powerful story of music, race, ambition and artistic ownership to the stage.

Set in Chicago in 1927, the play brings legendary blues singer Ma Rainey, the “Mother of the Blues,” and her musicians together for a recording session. What should be an afternoon devoted to music becomes a volatile collision of personalities, dreams and competing ideas about who has the right to control the music and the future it might create.

Nicole Michelle Haskins is commanding as Ma Rainey. She knows her worth and understands the precarious position she occupies in an industry controlled by white men. Haskins gives Ma a formidable presence while allowing glimpses of vulnerability beneath her confidence. Ma may be the star whose voice everyone has come to record, but she knows that those controlling the studio ultimately have power over her music.

Michael Glenn as Irvin, Ma’s manager, occupies an uneasy position between his demanding star and Sturdyvant (Chris Genebach), the studio owner running the recording session who wants everything to remain on schedule, leaving Irvin to navigate Ma’s resistance without alienating either side. Glenn captures Irvin’s nervous diplomacy beautifully. He knows Ma can be difficult, but he also understands that her talent and star power make her too valuable to risk losing.

The quartet of musicians in Ma’s band gives the production much of its warmth and humor, even as tensions simmer beneath the surface. Ro Boddie’s Toledo is thoughtful and philosophical, Craig Wallace’s Cutler practical and loyal to Ma, while Derrick Truby’s Slow Drag brings an easygoing spirit, often using humor to lighten the mood. Together, they have the comfortable rhythm of musicians who have played alongside one another for years.

That camaraderie makes Levee, played by Yao Dogbe, stand out even more. Young, ambitious and impatient, he wants to move beyond playing for Ma and create music of his own. His determination is exciting, but his confidence frequently crosses into arrogance, putting him increasingly at odds with Toledo and Cutler.

Their exchanges reveal a fascinating generational divide. Levee is determined to escape the limitations imposed upon him, while Toledo and Cutler have learned different ways of navigating those limitations. Their arguments may begin with music but quickly become conversations about history, dignity, religion, race and the possibility of controlling one’s own destiny.

Yet beneath the disagreements is genuine affection among the musicians. Their joking and storytelling have the easy rhythm of men who know each other well. That makes the gradual breakdown of their relationships all the more painful. As Levee becomes increasingly determined to prove himself, the trust among them begins to erode.

The intimate design places the audience inside the recording session. Scenic designer Arnel Sancianco, in conjunction with lighting designer Minjoo Kim, creates a wonderfully detailed studio environment. Downstage is a practice room where the musicians gather, while the recording space features a grand piano, velvet chairs, a footstool and bench. A spiral staircase leads to the recording booth above, giving the compact set a striking vertical dimension.

Music director Cedric D. Lyles gives the production its blues heartbeat. Sound designer Kevin Lee Alexander adds another layer of realism, surrounding us with the sounds of instruments, voices and the recording process, making the music immediate and alive, carrying the history and emotional weight of the characters.

What stayed with me is how Wilson allows conflicts to exist on many levels. Ma is fighting for control of her voice. Levee is fighting for a future he can call his own. Toledo and Cutler are fighting, in their own ways, to preserve their dignity and understanding of who they are. Irvin is caught between protecting Ma and navigating the business of the business.

I loved the feeling of being inside this working studio. We watch the musicians rehearse, wait, joke and argue, and because of the intimacy of the space, there is nowhere for the tension to disappear. As the afternoon progresses, the laughter fades. The room seems to grow smaller and heavier, and what began as a recording session becomes a confrontation with ambition, racism, exploitation and the desperate desire to determine one’s own future. The studio almost becomes a pressure cooker.

Round House Theatre’s Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom brings memory, survival, history, and a deeply human desire to be heard into intimate focus. Sitting so close to the musicians, watching the music come alive while the relationships around them begin to fracture, I was reminded that the blues are more than music. They are the language through which these characters express joy, frustration, memory and longing. Wilson also reminds us of the painful contradiction at the center of the music industry: Black creativity could be celebrated and commercially successful while Black artists themselves remained without meaningful control over their work.

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photos by Teresa Castracane

Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom
Round House Theatre and Olney Theatre Center
Round House Theatre, 4545 East-West Highway in Bethesda, MD
ends on Oct. 18, 2026
2 hours and 30 minutes, including one intermission
for tickets, call 240.644.1100 or visit Round House Theatre

for more shows, visit Theatre in DC

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