Fast forward twelve days and I’m standing onstage at The Armory looking out over 560 empty seats, riding up a backstage freight elevator with set builders, and standing in the costume shop asking designers about their process as they pin fabric to cast-measured mannequins.

[Freeze frame] Narrator: “You’re probably wondering how I got here. Well, let’s back up…”

Where we left off in Part 1, I loved opening night so much I bought another ticket for closing night and planned to write a second post.

What you don’t know is that a few days later, I saw that Portland Center Stage was also hosting a three-week “The Brothers Size” class led by PCS dramaturg Kamilah Bush. Week one, she would explain the background of the show and the process they took to create it. Week two, students would go on a backstage tour and then see the show. Week three, the class would meet again to discuss.

After a little internal back-and-forth with the reasonable side of me pointing out we were already going to see it twice and this class would be a big time commitment in an already-busy month and it was also a not-insignificant amount of money, and the other side of me being like, “but wouldn’t it be COOL?” you know which side prevailed. I signed up the night before the course started.

What I didn’t realize until I was halfway through registering was that the class was offered through Portland Community College, which meant by signing up I was literally enrolling and I’m now technically a community college student. I have a student ID number and PCC email address and everything. I have to say, it wasn’t on my 2025 bingo card, but this is what happens when you commit to the bit.

So now you’re more or less caught up: tonight was the ‘get a backstage tour and see the show’ night of class. As a longtime PCS showgoer, it was awesome to literally peek behind the curtain and figuratively see how the sausage gets made. It gave me a deeper appreciation for just how many people and how much time and thoughtfulness goes into a theater production.

Speaking of deeper appreciation, seeing the show after hearing about the history and behind-the-scenes process was also a completely different experience. Reading the script before class, I discovered there are no stage directions whatsoever — it’s up to each production to determine what the characters are doing in each moment. The set and costumes were likewise concepted completely by the PCS team. Playwright Tarell Alvin McCraney left all those decisions to the teams who would adapt his work — which Kamilah described as an ultimate form of trust. In class, I also learned how Ogun and Oshoosi are modeled after Yoruba gods of the same names — brothers, one steady and the other flighty. Elegba is a playful figure that represents crossroads with the symbol of a key. (There are echoes of all this within the play.)

Now that I had a better sense of the plot, I could also spend more time observing the micro-dynamics: the relationships in space and word between characters, the transitions into dreams and flashbacks, the guitar-string tension driving the story forward. I also turned my attention to the backdrop, which reads:

“A man that has friends must show himself friendly: and there is a friend that sticketh closer than a brother. Proverbs 18:24”

Without totally spoiling the show (there’s still time to see it, if you’re reading this before May 18, 2025), that verse really is the heart of the play, but perhaps not in a way you’d expect. The show takes a really hard look at what it means to love someone when it’s not easy, when the way to help them is not clear. I think many people can relate to both Ogun (loving someone and wanting a different life for them) and Oshoosi (being the person feeling that pressure but unable to change your life to fit what they want.)

I’ve taken so much from this show, from this class, from really thinking deeply about the themes it offers and how they fit into my life. I’m incredibly grateful for all these opportunities to dig in. I have one more class next week, and then a front-row seat to the final show of this production.

See you in 11 days!