Ready for a Marvtastic time

Keep starting until you finish.

"Poke The Box" by Seth Godin

As a member of the fundraising team for the National Black Theatre Festival, I recently attended the press conference to announce the co-chairs for the 2011 festival, August 1-6. It's exciting to see people excited in anticipation of yet another grand time in the city. This is, after all, the City of the Arts.

I have a lot of great memories of all but the first festival; I missed it. My wife and I were on vacation at the time. Now we plan the first week in August every other year to attend the festival. We look forward to it.

I call Sylvia Sprinkle-Hamlin (the late Larry Leon Hamlin's wife) to ask what performances I should attend. I make my list and then it is on. I can't wait to find out what performances will be offered again this year.

Two of my favorites from the last festival were "I am Who I am: The Teddy Pendergrass Story" and "The High Priestess of Dark Alley." Both were outstanding and at times, during the "Teddy Pendergrass Story," you couldn't separate the late Pendergrass from the actor on stage.

Sarah and I participated in the second festival as volunteers and also attended a few performances. Since then, I have helped to raise money to ensure this "big idea" continues. And I love every minute of it. It is simply Marvtastic. If you are a regular festival attendee, you know what that means.

The National Black Theatre Festival is promoted as an international celebration and reunion of spirit. I couldn't agree more. That realization becomes clearer and clearer during the week of the festival, starting with the celebrity reception and gala, through the last performance and closing ceremony.

It's like a homecoming before the revival for the stars, many returning year after year, like Ella Joyce. I have enjoyed her performances. Dressed comfortably and casually, socializing, eating, catching up with each other, mingling with guests, they are at their home away from home. And many return year after year, bringing others with them.

Crowds jam the streets on the last night of the festival in anticipation of the closing ceremony, listening for the sound of the African drums and a glimpse of the barefoot dancers dressed in African garb, marching breathlessly toward them. The spirit jumps from person to person, like a live current, electrifying the crowd.

Thousands of people converge on Winston-Salem to attend plays, view films and experience midnight poetry slams, performance theater and late-night celebrity receptions. They wait in lines at restaurants, while those seated are engaged in lively and interesting conversations about the festival, what performances they liked, what star they saw in a hotel lobby, at a play or just walking down the street.

Others leisurely walk up and down the streets, taking in all the festivities, the sights and sounds. The headquarters hotel is always alive with people listening to live music, uniting with friends in the lobby and making an effort to catch a quick look at another celebrity.

My wife and I were regulars at Café Piaf (before it closed) just around the corner from the hub of activity, taking it all in, eating, talking and people watching. And smoking a good cigar.

I have been told that in music it is as much what happens between the notes (the pauses, silence, stillness) as the playing of the notes that contributes to the richness of what you hear. The same, I believe, can be said about the festival. It's what happens between the plays, the readings, press conferences, the celebrity interviews, photo opportunities and autographs that contribute to the special festival experience for everyone.

I finally got the significance of keeping and sustaining black theater in August 2007 at a performance of "Mahalia, Queen of Gospel" by the company Larry founded in 1979, the North Carolina Black Repertory Company. A seat a few rows down and to my left was vacant and draped with purple ribbon in his honor.

As my favorite musical artist, Maze, would say: "This is the place, ya'll. This is the place." Indeed, this is holy ground for black theater, for everyone.

The pause between the notes — the action in between all the activities — makes the week a special celebration and reunion of spirit. I am ready to create some new memories.

PS: For more information on the festival, visit www.nbtf.org

Nigel Alston lives in Winston-Salem. He can be reached at nalston1@triad.rr.com.