Raunchy blues rule in ATC production

There’s no play on the Arizona Theatre Company stage.

Instead, the company’s production of “Low Down Dirty Blues” is a two-hour concert of gritty, nasty, soaring, heartbreaking blues.

And oh, is it glorious.

Scenic designer Vicki Smith has transformed the stage into a dingy Southside Chicago blues bar. There are neon beer signs, shiny tinsel strung overhead, patched vinyl chairs gathered around flimsy cafe tables. You can almost smell the stale beer.

This is Big Mama’s place, and it’s where the authentic blues rise up and quickly seep into the skin of the audience.

You know you are in for a lusty ride when Felicia P. Fields steps up to the mic and belts out “They Call Me Big Mama.” The Big Mama Thornton song sets the tone for the raunchy first half: “I can rock and I can roll them/ And I can really go to town.” Fields makes it clear what she’s singing about. She is a Tony-nominated Broadway veteran, but her blues voice loses the polish and is full of the soul.

The temperature rises when Chic Street Man stands, guitar in hand, and seductively sings “Crawlin’ King Snake.” Really, seductive is too tame a word. It was musical sex. This was a signature song for John Lee Hooker; Hooker’s version was church music compared to what Street Man did.

The first half of this performance took the audience on a lusty ride with tunes that defined double entendres, songs such as “My Stove’s in Good Condition”, “Don’t Jump My Pony,” “Mojo Hand.” Whew.

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While the first act is all raw sex, the second segues into the blues that moan about loss and redemption. It starts out gently with songs like “Hey Baby” and “I’d Rather Go Blind.”

And then we are socked in the belly when Shake Anderson, a big burly man with a sublime, gravelly voice, sits in a chair and sings “Death Letter.” The Eddie Son House song is about a man who receives a letter informing him the woman he loves is dead. It is mournful and chilling and Anderson made us feel every agonizing emotion with him.

The voices on stage were made for the blues. So were the musicians: Street Man’s guitar playing wails and coos, Steve Schmidt coaxing soulful sounds from his piano, and Calvin Jones deepening the sound with his incredible stand-up bass playing. Anderson picked up the guitar once and it’s clear he has chops, as well.

All the performers on the stage have vast résumés working with musicians such as B.B. King and Eartha Kitt. Their expertise, as well as their grit, made for some mighty fine blues.

There’s little dialogue in this play — with the exception of Fields’ forays into the audience. The first row consisted of bar tables where couples sat. She wended her way around those tables, talking, teasing, running her long fingernails through men’s hair. She was so sassy and charming that it never felt false.

No, “Low Down Dirty Blues” is not theater.

But it is classic blues sung with deep soul. And oh, what joy that is.