Through September 21: The Black Rep Revives “Raisin” with Hills High and Valleys Few
The show has too often been treated like a musical of a lesser god
The Black Rep’s revival of this seldom-seen Tony winner deserves careful appraisal. The hills rise high — Anita Michelle Jackson’s commanding Mama, choreography that makes the stage itself feel restless and key numbers like “It’s a Deal” and “Not Anymore” that jolt with dramatic voltage. The valleys are fewer but present — a sound design that buries voices, uneven singing and duets that wilt rather than bloom. The result is a production that reclaims a neglected musical while reminding us that not every rediscovery is flawless.
"Raisin" carries a double inheritance: from Lorraine Hansberry’s "A Raisin in the Sun," itself born from Langston Hughes’s poem "Harlem," remembered for its opening question, “What happens to a dream deferred?” That lineage gives the musical a gravity that persists even when individual performances falter. First produced on Broadway in 1973, "Raisin" ran nearly three years and won two Tony Awards, including Best Musical and Best Actress.
And yet time has not been entirely kind. Unlike "The Wiz," which became iconic, or "Dreamgirls," which dazzled with its pop-spectacle sweep, "Raisin" has too often been treated like a musical of a lesser god. That’s a disservice. Its score still blends gospel, jazz and 1970s pop with conviction, and its book remains rooted in Hansberry’s fierce dialogue. What lingers is not its inability to match Broadway razzle-dazzle, but our failure to keep it in circulation.
Adding to the pressure, the New York Times recently singled out this Black Rep production as one of the top theatrical draws in the country this season. That spotlight raises the stakes. Any company willing to revive "Raisin" is already making a bold statement, and such recognition makes the margin for error narrower still.
Ron Himes directs "Raisin" with a clear eye for balance. The scenic design by Tim Jones keeps the Youngers’ apartment cramped but porous, opening into the world beyond. The challenge comes from Kareem Deanes’ sound, which too often lets the band swallow singers whole. The off-stage musicians, though, show skill in navigating the wide stylistic palette, moving easily from blues grit to gospel fervor to pop-tinged ballads.
Choreography provides the evening’s kinetic charge. St. Louis Dance Theatre’s Kirven Douthit-Boyd’s work is not garnish but grammar and DNA, giving physical voice to Hansberry’s themes. “Running to Meet the Man” bristles with street-level energy, “He Come Down This Morning” moves with gospel urgency Sunday morning smiles, and “African Dance” embodies questions of identity with sinew and sweep. Dance captain Jorrell Lawyer-Jefferson ensures cohesion while Demetrius Malik Lee, with impressive limberness, adds a spark that lingers even after the number ends.
At the center is Anita Michelle Jackson as Lena Younger (referred to Mama). Her performance is rooted, weighty and radiant. In “A Whole Lotta Sunlight” she brings maternal warmth to the simplest gesture. In “Measure the Valleys” she unleashes the kind of power that halts a production in its tracks – in all the best ways. Jackson holds the stage with the authority of lived experience — a performance that anchors, redeems and elevates the performance.
Duane Martin Foster’s Walter Lee delivers volatility with conviction. In “It’s a Deal” he charts the character’s emotional whiplash, moving from exuberance to devastation in the space of a song. His performance makes clear how much Walter’s ambition is both a driving engine and a family fault line.
Elsewhere the production loses some footing. Adrianna Jones as Ruth brings tenderness to “Whose Little Angry Men” yet “Sweet Time,” a duet with Walter that should glow with remembered intimacy, never quite lifts off. Andrea Mouton’s Beneatha has presence but her signature number “Alaiyo” lands flat. It is this musical’s “Bali Hai” moment, meant to be lush and transporting, but without the catchiness or haunting pull of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s ballad. Robert McNichols as Asagai, with a voice underpowered for the role’s lyrical weight combined with an accent that is sometimes hard to understand, leaves what should be a moment of discovery muted.
These are not failings that sink the production. They are reminders of how hard it is for a revival to balance Hansberry’s fierce dialogue with a score that demands equal strength from its singers. Yet even in these valleys the production does not collapse.
Jaron Bentley as 10-year-old Travis handles “Sidewalk Tree” with appealing confidence, giving the song warmth beyond his years. His voice wavered at times, as any young performer’s might, but his personality shone through, making the number endearing and memorable.
The score by Judd Woldin and Robert Brittan fuses gospel, jazz and R&B in a way that feels of its time yet still fresh. Jermaine Manor’s musical direction keeps it lively, and the band demonstrates versatility in delivering the shifting textures the score demands. “Not Anymore” channels bitterness into a biting ensemble moment. “Booze” has grit, “Sweet Time” promise unfulfilled. If "Ragtime" can be considered "Raisin’s" descendant — sweeping, symphonic, unabashedly grand — then "Raisin" is its grittier, more intimate forebear.
"Raisin" amplifies Hansberry’s themes rather than replacing them. Few musicals tackle class and money so bluntly and fewer still braid race and family with such candor. The “waiting for the check” motif remains unsettling in 2025, echoing through our own precarious economy.
This revival’s hills are formidable, its valleys real but not ruinous. The Black Rep’s staging may not be flawless, but its imperfections should not deter audiences from engaging with a work that continues to ask what becomes of deferred dreams.
The Black Rep’s production of “Raisin” continues through Sept. 21 as the Edison Theatre on the campus of Washington University in St. Louis. For more information, visit their website.