Editor’s Note: Mark Alvarez, an attorney and writer who is a regular contributor to The Selective Echo, is guest reviewer for Plan-B Theatre’s world production of “Wallace.” He attended the opening night performance.

Near the end of Plan-B Theatre’s ‘Wallace,’ Wallace Thurman stands on a wooden table surrounded by three chairs and a circle of yellow rejection letters. He declares, “I am a human—being.” Actor Carleton Bluford deftly blends a plea for understanding with an assertion of identity.

‘Wallace,’ from two scripts by Jenifer Nii and Debora Threedy, alternates and overlaps the stories of Wallace Thurman (1902-1934) and Wallace Stegner (1909-1993), both of whom spent much of their childhood in Salt Lake City. Thurman wrote, lived and died young at the core of the Harlem Renaissance. Stegner won prizes and fame for books and letters. Though Thurman and Stegner likely never met, Jerry Rapier cleverly directs their interaction on stage.

Wallace begins with the song “The Big Rock Candy Mountain” and its paradisiacal suggestions of lemonade springs, alcohol streams and endless sunshiny days. The novel “The Big Rock Candy Mountain” supplies much of the dialogue for the Stegner side of Wallace.

Childhood was rough for both Wallaces. Stegner became strong at the broken places while Thurman longed to leave Utah, a place in which there was a “devil on every inbound train” and where he felt among “black pioneers in a strange, white land.”

The first scene and interaction lay plain the contrast. Richard Scharine plays Stegner in his sixties. Stegner wears a white sweater with an Indian motif, sits alone at a table and discusses autobiography and fiction. He feels most comfortable at a typewriter. Scharine hews close to this theme and renders his side of Wallace a celebration of Stegner’s prose.

Carleton Bluford plays Thurman in his twenties. Thurman stands against a wall in darkness behind the table. He wears a sharp suit with suspenders. Thurman leaps onto the table in front of Stegner and sings “Fire!!.” His singing, movement and words evoke the Harlem Renaissance in which Thurman played an important role.

Near the middle of Wallace, Stegner pulls a book from the table and reads. Attention focuses entirely on words that combine with setting for beauty, insight and nostalgia. It becomes akin to a meditation. Stegner asks if we have come to paradise only to ruin it.

Thurman pulls “Fire!!” from the same table. “Fire!!” was published once during the Harlem Renaissance, a label Thurman challenges for lack of antecedent attention: “Had there been an interest in Negroes before and I missed it?” Thurman applies the term “Niggerati” to himself, Langston Hughes, Zora Neale Hurston and others who formed part of Harlem’s African-American literary movement. Thurman proudly called his house “Niggerati Manor.” It was a gathering place for writers and artists in Harlem. Alcohol streams flowed.

Thurman speaks against the idea of artists as representatives not of who people are but who they can be. He writes about prejudice among black people. He asserts a reality clearly uncomfortable given the yellow rejection letters and criticism from peers. Albeit uncomfortable, the reality is authentic. Equally authentic are the ever-present silver flask and the nagging cough, both of which contribute to Thurman’s early death.

Salt Lake City unites Thurman and Stegner. Both struggled through troubled youths here. Wallace Stegner once wrote, “I hunted the Big Rock Candy Mountain” because ”I wanted to hunt up and rejoin the civilization I had been deprived of.” Wallace Thurman sought “a dream city with wide-awake realities. Stegner gained wide readership and appreciation during his hunt. Thurman found a vibrant city, but he died young and largely unknown. Thurman and the actor who plays him deserve a look and appreciation through “Wallace.”

Because the world premiere run of “Wallace” has virtually sold out, a performance has been added on Sunday, March 14, at 5:30 pm. For ticket information, see here. More background about the show can be seen here from The Selective Echo.