By Adriane Mc Cray
I don’t know about the tendencies of your parents, but my Pops introduces his musical selections during our car rides with prideful trash talk in favor of the soul and jazz tunes of his generation.
“See… you girls don’t know nothing ‘bout this here…Who’s the Marvin Gaye of your generation? Nobody! Nobody’s bad like Marvin. Marvin’s BAD!”
My cousin, a self proclaimed “90s baby”, shares a similar spirit for the crooning R&B male groups of her teen years in the ‘90s, including Bell Biv Devoe, Boyz II Men, and Dru Hill. Nurtured by the music of their time, my eager ears explore Neo-Soul radio stations for the sounds and styles that have evolved from the iconic ‘90’s R&B/soul vibe over the decades.
As the final harmonies of The Inspiration’s opening song—“Written all over your face”, a Rude Boys classic—triggered these nostalgic musical memories, I notified my neighbor to just tap me if I became too reckless. I politely informed her that by the sounds of things, it was clear I would be jamming to every single selection this co-ed a-capella group (dedicated to music written and/or performed by the artists of the African diaspora) was going to perform. The theme of the concert, Behind the Music: 20 years of The Inspiration, was a tribute to the twenty-year long legacy of The Inspiration and the unique, and often political, presence they’ve historically had on Penn’s campus.
Following a welcome by President of The Inspiration, alto, and senior in the college, Gabrielle Banks, the group filed onto the center stage as the awaiting crowd, which overflowed the seats of the Class of ’49 auditorium in Houston Hall, cheered excitedly in the anticipation of The Inspiration repertoire for the night, which is traditionally kept secret until the day of the show. Decked out in fresh baseball caps, denim overalls, acid-washed jeans, and colorful sneakers, the group successfully triggered themes of the late 80s—specifically 1989, when the student group was first formed. A short narrative of the group’s founding, read by Kevin Holmes (School of Engineering freshman, tenor, and “New Jack” in The Inspiration) and Jared Watson (Wharton senior and bass in The Inspiration) set the scene for the audience. They recalled the popular music artists and songs of the decade (like Milli Vanili and Michael Jackson’s “Smooth Criminal”) and shared the story of their group’s founders and accounts of the Inspiration in its beginnings. These narratives of the group’s history (read at the beginnings of each of the show’s three sets) and the strong presence of Inspiration alumni demonstrated the group’s strong affiliation with and commitment to its legacy.
Senior in the college, bass, and Director of The Inspiration, Malcolm Spaulding, led the group to the zesty and well-blended opener, to which Richard Cesar (senior in the College and Inspiration tenor) and Janeé Moses (sophomore in the College and Inspiration alto) sang the lead vocals. Playful shouts sounded through the auditorium: “I’m Inspired!” “You better sang the song!” Cue rhythmic handclaps, snaps, and cheers.
Impressive lead duets pieces were in abundant supply over the course of the night, and rang through my mind like a fresh new album for the remainder of the weekend—you know, the album you’d scratch from just playing the songs from intro to end on repeat. Freshman in the College and Inspiration “New Jack”, Adeline Epstein, and junior in the College, Gaby Esensten were a crowd pleasing team with their rendition of En Vogue’s “Don’t Let Go”, while freshmen and “New Jacks” Nnesochi Ajukwu and Jordan Lowe delivered a flirty harmony to Damian Marley’s “There For You.”
Inspiration soloists also edged the crowd out of their seats with heartfelt renditions of several R&B/soul songs—from Jared Watson’s rendition of Maxwell’s “Fortunate” (executed in his impressively sprightly falsetto) to College freshman, Inspiration “New Jack”, and alto Marcel Salas’ pitch perfect rendition of Aaliyah’s “I Care For You”, which garnered a standing ovation from Inspiration alum. Our very own Vision writer, Petal Samuel, channeled Donell Jones, in a soprano rendition of his classic: “Where I Wanna Be”. College senior and Inspiration tenor, Jon Howard and director Malcolm Spaulding became the “croooners” of the evening, as I witnessed grown women, seated in the front row, shaking their bodies and holding their chests to keep themselves from jumping out of their seats.
The Inspiration show was particularly committed to the breaking of generational barriers. This feeling was especially embodied in the performance of The Inspiration’s alumni songs, “Fantasy” (by Earth, Wind, and Fire) and “I Got Da Key”. These songs did not only connect Inspiration alumni to current Inspiration members, but also the audience to The Inspiration–as it’s a song that longtime Inspiration fans have come to know quite well and have a distinct connection with. The power and unity of their voices truly illustrated the universality and connective power of music.
As the night came to a close I felt as though I had tapped into the radios that both my father and my cousin had played at my age. In the words of my father: The Inspiration’s music…Bad.
Aside from singing the praises of the brilliant cast and crew, I want to return for a moment to the question of dualities that the article opened with. “Soul of the Entertainer” not only featured fictional characters who were both performers and real people with real problems—it featured student performers who not only performed for the show, but who also are well known around campus as performers. In the second set, performers such as College sophomore Steven Allen (a rising alternative singer-songwriter with a Thom Yorke-esque lyrical articulation and the voice of a raspless Chad Kroeger), College senior Joya Jones (R&B, soul, gospel vocalist extraordinaire and proud member of the New Spirit of Penn Gospel Choir), and College senior David Warner (spoken word artist and veteran member of Penn’s premier spoken word collective, The Excelano Project) graced the stage with performances that were consistent with the brilliant work they regularly do on campus. This intentional linking of reality and fiction, of past and present, of performance and observance does much to blur the line between these aforementioned binaries. In other words, 4A’s “Soul of the Entertainer” seems to be resisting suggestions that the everyday person and the entertainer are mutually exclusive concepts. Perhaps, instead, the production is suggesting something more along the lines of a continuum of performance and simply “being yourself” (if such a thing exists). That maybe performing is a rendition of being oneself, and “being oneself” is yet another leg of the same concept. The ways we choose to perform or to observe or to “stay true to ourselves” are still choices and are still done in ways specific to us thus, still containing something characteristic of us.
