Review: At American Blues, The Reclamation of Madison Hemings Tells the Story of Two of Jefferson’s Enslaved Laborers, One of Them His Son

Two middle-aged Black men, both formerly enslaved, visit Monticello the year after the Civil War ends. They’re not there as tourists to explore the majesty of Thomas Jefferson’s estate or the ingenuity of his inventions. They have arrived because one of them is looking for his brother and the other wants to reclaim what is rightfully his. Their fact-based story is brilliantly told in Charles Smith’s The Reclamation of Madison Hemings at American Blues Theater. The director is Chuck Smith, a Blues Theater ensemble member.

Madison Hemings (Jon Hudson Odom) is the son of Sally Hemings, Jefferson’s so-called longtime “concubine.” Israel Gillette Jefferson (Manny Buckley) worked as a laborer and as Jefferson’s personal servant. Both men were born into slavery at Monticello. The two actors burn up the stage with their powerful portrayals of formerly enslaved free men trying to come to grips with their past and the restrictions on their present lives in the United States. They have just arrived at Monticello from their homes in Ohio in a buckboard wagon, which carries only their food, cooking utensils, bedding and a gun. 

The Reclamation of Madison Hemings, taking place over five days, is a revelation of Civil War era and slavery history. The playwright was able to do research on the play’s two characters and events of their lives because interviews with both men were published in the 1870s in the Pike County Republican, the local newspaper in their Ohio community. 

Jon Hudson Odom as Madison. Photo by Michael Brosilow.

Madison gained his freedom as a result of Jefferson’s will; after his death in 1826, the will provided that Sally Heming’s children be freed (his other slaves were sold at public auction). Israel became a free man in 1844 after he and his wife (a seamstress and a free woman of color) raised the $500 necessary to buy his freedom. Both men had moved to southern Ohio where they farmed and raised their families. Madison also worked his trade as a carpenter and joiner. By the time this play takes place in November 1866, they have been free men for decades. 

Israel walks to nearby Charlottesville, where he believes he might find his brother Moses; he returns two days later with an injured foot and some inkling of Moses’ presence. Madison wants to help him but he also is intent on reclaiming what he sees as his part of what remains of Monticello. Israel refuses to enter the house because he says he doesn’t have permission; Madison says he doesn’t need permission. (The property has a caretaker but we never see him.) Madison fearlessly enters the great house, now in a state of ruin because it’s been vacant for some time. (Jefferson’s daughter sold it in 1831.) First Madison brings out a pair of wooden-framed glass doors that he helped build and places them on the wagon. When act two opens, Madison has loaded many more pieces of structure and old furnishings on the wagon, despite Israel’s objections. 

After visiting Jefferson’s grave at Monticello, Madison makes clear what his relationship with his birth father was like: “I got nothing to say to that man. He never had nothing to say to me. I could be standing right in front of him and he’d look at me like I wasn’t even there. Man wouldn’t talk to me when he was alive, what I look like trying to talk to him now that he’s dead?” 

The two men are clearly fond of each other but their distinct personality differences (Madison bold and opinionated, Israel thoughtful and reserved) result in frequent clashes of opinion throughout the play. Nevertheless, Madison tenderly cares for Israel’s injured foot and Israel tells Madison how he will cook the rabbits that Madison has shot for their dinner. The state of Madison’s “reclamation” is the main source of disagreement.

Buckley and Odom. Photo by Michael Brosilow.

The playwright’s notes in the playbill hint at and explain the play’s shattering and emotional ending: The naming of names, “which has the power to keep past events present and vital.” Smith acknowledges his debt to similar naming of names—at the National Memorial for Peace and Justice in Montgomery, Alabama; in Maya Lin’s Vietnam veterans’ memorial in Washington, DC; and at the Whitney Plantation in Louisiana, once a forced labor camp (as Smith refers to plantations where enslaved people were held) and now a museum. The naming of names also is reminiscent of the ending of Tom Stoppard’s Leopoldstadt, where the names and fates of family members murdered in Nazi death camps are chronicled. 

Chuck Smith’s direction is smooth and well-paced; he enables his two actors to develop their characters in very human ways. The scenic design for Reclamation is a single set with a beautifully rendered scrim suggesting forest and land beyond; the scenic and props design is by Jonathan Berg-Einhorn. (The very real buckboard wagon, featuring antique parts 150 years old, is being offered for sale by the theater—see page 11 in the program.) Lighting is by Jared Gooding and Rachel West. Sound design (with an excellent recorded sound track of period music) is by Rick Sims. Lily Walls’ costume designs represent the characters’ status as men of dignity and property; they wear well-fitting suits and hats.

The theater program provides important background on the play, its history, the legacy of its two characters and the legacy of Thomas Jefferson as an owner and father of enslaved people. The man who wrote “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal” enslaved more than 600 human beings over his lifetime. You can also see the theater’s backstage guide here.

The Reclamation of Madison Hemings continues at American Blues Theater, 5627 N. Lincoln Ave., through March 24. Tickets are $29.50-$59.50 for performances Thursday-Sunday. Running time is two hours with one intermission. The venue is the new permanent home of American Blues, which until now has been an itinerant theater, performing in rented spaces. The main auditorium is an attractive and comfortable 137-seat space; there’s also a 40-seat studio.

For more information on this and other plays, see theatreinchicago.com.

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Nancy S Bishop

Nancy S. Bishop is publisher and Stages editor of Third Coast Review. She’s a member of the American Theatre Critics Association and a 2014 Fellow of the National Critics Institute at the Eugene O’Neill Theater Center. You can read her personal writing on pop culture at nancybishopsjournal.com, and follow her on Twitter @nsbishop. She also writes about film, books, art, architecture and design.