By Matthew Wexler
Of, by, and for the people. That’s the mission of The Public Theater, one of the country’s first nonprofit theater companies. Its home was initially built as the Astor Library (which merged with other private collections to become the New York Public Library system), then later purchased by the Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society. Public Theater founder Joe Papp convinced the city to preserve the building, and here we are, over 60 years later.
Whether you’re familiar with the cultural institution or hearing about it for the first time, this background contextualizes Sumo, a co-production of Ma-Yi Theater Company and La Jolla Playhouse.
It takes a village to stage a play. To produce one centered on a cultural, historical, and sporting phenomenon outside most westerners’ purview requires even more diligence and attention to detail, which brings us to playwright Lisa Sanaye Dring’s dohyō–side look inside the world of sumo. More specifically, the rise—and fall—of rikishi, a group of six wrestlers of various ranks, and their lives in the heya, a communal space where they live and train.
Dring’s interwoven plot, from newcomer Akio (Scott Keiji Takeda) to the stable’s highest ranking Mitsuo (David Shih) explores familiar territory, but the omnipresent knowing of what it feels to be bullied, hide your love, succeed or fail, take on fresh perspective when seen through the eyes of men groomed for triumph.
Soji, wood-framed sliding doors, covered with a resilient, translucent paper, is a staple of Japanese architecture. Their summer removal when things get too hot, or a diffusion of light to cast just the right glow in a room, reflects the simplicity and genius of soji’s adaptability. Director Ralph B. Peña and the creative team’s use of space, light, and sound, is equally thoughtful.
Sumo offers a portal into a world perilously trying to balance traditions with modern sensibilities. And that’s a struggle we can all relate to.
1MC Takeaway
I’ve been fortunate to travel to Japan twice, though I never attended a match. I did, however, hike the Nakasendo Way, the ancient trade route that connected Kyoto to Edo (now Tokyo). Have more than a minute? Read about my globetrotting adventure in Passport Magazine.
