In the play "Big River: The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn" now showing at Ford's Theatre, the irascible literary hero's float down the Mississippi isn't the only adventure depicted on stage. Nor is the subject of race in the time of slavery the only barrier explored.
That's because seven of the 20 actors in this production of the 1985 musical are deaf or hard of hearing.
Huck -- played by deaf actor Christopher Corrigan -- signs to the audience, using American Sign Language (ASL), while nearby, hearing actor Bill O'Brien speaks and sings for Huck while playing the part of author and narrator Mark Twain. Two actors -- one hard of hearing and the other not -- take the stage together as Pap, Huck's hard-drinking dad, nearly pinned together as they lope around, swilling from a jug of whiskey while one speaks or sings and the other signs. All the while, the hearing actors speak and sign their parts in ASL that's been modified to reflect the vernacular of the South in the late 1880s.
It's all an effort to make theater accessible to deaf audiences while opening up deaf culture to the hearing. The result looks not like a production modified for those who can't hear, but rather a graceful dance that brings together two painstakingly synchronized languages, one flowing from the mouth, the other from the hands.
The unmistakable message to a viewer extends far beyond the world of the stage.
"The production serves to hold a mirror up to humanity. When you bring the deaf and the hearing together like this, the mirror gets warped, its scope gets widened," said O'Brien. " 'Big River' not only offers access to the deaf, but to the hearing, who gain access to deaf culture. And at the end of the show, you take a more integral look at what it means to be human."
Mixing Cues
What does it take to make a performance like this come together?
"It's a theatrical Rubik's cube," said director and choreographer Jeff Calhoun. "At first I wondered: How do you communicate with the dressing rooms? How do the actors get their cues if they can't listen for them? It turns out, if you're using actors at the top of their game, it's no different than choreographing a complicated dance."
In rehearsals, sign interpreters helped the actors communicate with each other and the director. Then all involved in the production agreed on myriad visual cues. In addition to the two or three backstage cue lights that let crew members know when to lift and lower sets, three more colored lights strung up backstage let deaf and hearing actors know when to go on, explained production stage manager Craig Horness, who, from his booth above the audience, uses the lights to cue actors.
Movements built into actors' stage directions also serve as prompts, said artistic director Ed Waterstreet, co-founder of the L.A.-based theater company Deaf West, which is mounting the production. Subtle mannerisms -- the lifting of an arm, the turning of a head -- let deaf and hard of hearing actors know it's time to, say, cross the stage or deliver a line. During songs, such cues are built in every eight beats.
Luckily, adds Waterstreet, who is hard of hearing, many deaf and hard of hearing actors seem to have a sixth sense for such cues -- an intense awareness of space and timing. Corrigan agrees: "I know in my heart where the other actors are," he said.
Though studies are mixed on whether deaf people have heightened visual perception, research has shown that those who use sign language from an early age are more able to detect movement in their peripheral vision, explained Carol Padden, professor of linguistics at the University of California, San Diego, and author of the new book "Inside Deaf Culture." Padden, who said she's seen "Big River" productions starring deaf actors many times, said this expanded sensitivity to what's in the visual field aids deaf actors tremendously.
Often, she said, deaf actors can also pick up musical rhythm through their feet. But the Big River production doesn't rely on that because the beat might be felt in certain parts of the stage and not others.
Sometimes the actors' cues involve a bump here or a nudge there.
"At one point, Huck, in a quiet moment, sits on my foot, and as soon as it's time for him to go, I nudge him just a little," said Michael McElroy, who plays Jim, a runaway slave and Huck's traveling companion.
Since the deaf and hearing-impaired actors must participate in choreographed musical numbers with hearing actors, signing while the hearing actors sing, their cues must be dead-on. For this, actors onstage watch the conductor (positioned behind the stage) via three monitors placed in the audience, just below the balcony. In addition, two backstage monitors -- one stage right, one stage left -- allow actors to watch the play to gauge when it's time to go on.
Talking the Talk
Monologues present the some of biggest challenges, according to Corrigan, the 18-year-old Gallaudet University student who plays Huck. "Those are the most difficult to synch up," he said, speaking through interpreter and fellow production member Elizabeth Green. "And Mark Twain was famous for his punch lines. They require perfect timing."
That's particularly true when two actors -- one signing and one speaking -- are supposed to deliver lines simultaneously.
The problem: ASL doesn't translate to English literally; It's a distinct language, with its own grammatical rules, explains Deaf West managing director and producer O'Brien, who, in his role as Twain, speaks and sings for Corrigan. As in French or Spanish, a word at the beginning of an English sentence may fall at the end of an ASL expression.
Take Huck's line in the play's last monologue: "Aunt Sally wants to adopt and civilize me and I can't stand it. I've been there before." In ASL, "I've been there before" translates roughly to "Me finish -- enough," said O'Brien.
Emphasis is key as the two actors try to hit each of their last three words at the same instant.
"In order to be most effective, they have to happen simultaneously," said O'Brien.
The actors rehearse repeatedly before the show and during intermissions to make sure their lines stay synched.
"It takes hours and hours to get it right," said Waterstreet through interpreter Green. "Two actors working together have to become one," leaving no room for big egos, he added.
Also active in the production is Waterstreet's wife, Linda Bove, a celebrated deaf actress who played Linda the Librarian on "Sesame Street" for 30 years. Bove serves as ASL headmaster, seeing to it that all actors sign correctly and in the proper vernacular for the play. She also plays three characters in the production.
Logistical concerns extend beyond the stage. Actors waiting in their dressing rooms are cued via video monitors that read "Half hour please," then "15 minutes please" as well as the loudspeaker that barks such announcements to the hearing actors. And what does stage manager Horness do when he needs to reach a deaf actor at home, where he can't hear the phone or speak into it? Two words: Text messaging.
The audience's needs have been factored in, too: For viewers who can neither hear nor understand ASL, Ford's Theatre offers handheld captioning devices.
Realizing the Vision
For the hearing actors, all of whom had to learn to sign as well as speak their lines, the learning curve has also been steep.
"It's been a challenge similar to learning a foreign language for a show, then doing that show in the country of the people who speak it natively," said McElroy. "Then add to that that you're also speaking in another language at the same time."
McElroy has also learned never to turn his back on a signing actor or he'll miss his ASL cues -- and may cause the other actor to miss his, too. Also, he said, any handling of props must happen when actors are not delivering lines, as they must have both hands free for signing.
Thanks to the play, said McElroy, he has absorbed enough ASL to enjoy discussions with deaf and hard of hearing actors about their characters or personal lives.
"It's been a life-changing experience," said McElroy. "It's what you hope for as an actor."
True access comes together chillingly in one of the production's final numbers. All of the actors are on stage singing and signing with great energy. Then, abruptly, all sound drops away. In perfect silence, the entire company delivers the song's final chorus in the graceful movements of ASL. And for a brief time, the hearing audience feels just what it's like to be without hearing. ?
Suz Redfearn recently wrote for the Health section about overweight and pregnancy. "Big River" plays at Ford's through June 4.
