Savon Bartley is performing a very personal one-man show that he created, sharing the struggle he experienced growing up without his father in his life. The production, “Holes in the Shape of my Father,” playing at The Tank at 312 W. 36th Street, is a play written in verse and will have you totally engaged. I recently spoke to Bartley between shows. A very vulnerable, honest Q&A follows.
AmNews: Why did you need to write “Holes in the Shape of my Father?”
SB: Writing has always been the way I try to make sense of the world and my own experience. Subconsciously, I think I’ve always been writing about my father, even when I didn’t realize it. After more than twenty years of silence, he suddenly appeared on my Instagram just by liking a video. It was the first time I’d seen his name or face since I was a child, and I didn’t know how to feel. All these buried emotions and unanswered questions came rushing to the surface, and the only way I knew how to deal with them was to write. I needed to write “Holes in the Shape of my Father” because I needed to ask the questions I’d been avoiding, questions I hadn’t asked myself, my mother, or him. Writing was the only way I knew to face those feelings honestly.
AmNews: When did you create it and how long did it take?
SB: The official beginning of “Holes in the Shape of my Father” was in 2017, when I was part of a development program at The Public Theater. That’s when I made the decision to truly shape it into a play. But in another sense, I’ve been writing it my whole life. When I started putting the show together, I went back through old poems and drafts I had written since I was a teenager. I realized I had been writing about my father consciously or not since I was 18 or 19. So depending on how you look at it, the play either took about four years to develop, or it’s been in the making for over a decade.
AmNews: The play is something very personal to your heart, but it also deals with an issue shared by many men in the Black community — growing up without a father. What impact do you hope it will have on them?
SB: I hope this show gives Black men permission to feel what they’re feeling and to acknowledge how the absence of a father has shaped their lives. Too often, we’re taught to believe we’re the only ones going through it, or that no one cares, or that it isn’t worth talking about. I know I’ve felt that way myself. For me, the moment of permission came from television. I’ll never forget watching “The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air” Season 4, Episode 24, “Papa’s Got a Brand New Excuse.” Will’s father comes back after years of being gone, only to leave him again. At the end, Will breaks down in Uncle Phil’s arms, asking, “How come he don’t want me, man?” That was the first time I saw another Black man express the exact pain I felt inside. It showed me that it was okay to cry, okay to admit that it hurt. My hope is that this play does the same thing. That Black men and boys sitting in the audience will feel seen, will feel less alone, and will give themselves permission to acknowledge their emotions whether that’s crying, praying, or simply admitting the truth of how much it matters.
AmNews: You tell the story using a lot of rhyming and you speak as your great-grandfather, grandfather, and your father. How do you mentally prepare yourself to inhabit these roles?
SB: I prepare through music. Jazz, blues, hip-hop, rap they each carry rhythms and voices that mirror the characters in the play. Each man is tied to a sound, an instrument, a genre, and listening helps me tap into their presence.
Before every show, I also take ten to fifteen minutes to find some calm breathing, centering myself, letting go. It’s not just about embodying these men, it’s about confronting them. The preparation is about acceptance and release: stepping into their voices, letting the weight pass through me, and then setting it down.
AmNews: Your father was not a force in your life. How did you get to know stories about his father, and his father’s father?
SB: I was fortunate to spend a lot of time with my grandfather when I was a child. And I’m grateful that my mother never spoke badly about my father or his side of the family — she never tried to keep me from knowing where I came from.
Through those visits with my grandfather, I also crossed paths with my father when he happened to be around. That gave me glimpses into who they were, even if those experiences were complicated. Over time, I started drawing my own conclusions about that side of the family. My great-grandfather was harder. I mostly learned about him through stories my mother told me. She knew more about the relationship between my grandfather and his father than I ever could, so I leaned on her memories to help me fill in the blanks and make sense of what I only partly understood.
AmNews: This play shares your pain, anger, and frustration with not having a fatherly role model in your life. When you perform this show, are we witnessing a healing process?
SB: Absolutely. I’m doing the best I can with what I have. I don’t have my grandfather anymore, and I don’t have a relationship with my father. What I do have is poetry, theater, and this play. That’s my way of working through the pain.
Performing “Holes in the Shape of my Father” is a healing process for me, and it’s also an invitation for the audience. When I give myself permission to feel these things on stage, I hope it encourages others to give themselves permission too, to face their own emotions and begin their own healing journey. Life distracts us with work, money, responsibilities, all the noise that keeps us from tending to what hurts. This play creates a space where, for an hour, we can all step into that process together.
AmNews: How does one grow up to be a well-developed young man when he has had a hole in his life for so long?
SB: For me, the answer is simple: my mother. I thank God for her every day. She did absolutely everything she could to raise me into the man I am. I don’t know who I’d be without her.
AmNews: Who else helped you to develop into the man you are today?
SB: Outside of my mother, it’s hard to point to a single person. I didn’t have that story of a mentor or male figure who took me under his wing, taught me how to fight, or showed me how to be a man. My mother took me as far as she could, and then I had to fill in the gaps myself. I built myself out of what I found along the way, music, books, films, friends, church, and my own experiences. I picked up ideas, values, and lessons wherever I could, keeping what resonated and letting go of what didn’t. It wasn’t one teacher or one role model, it was a collection of influences that shaped me, and my own choices about the kind of man I wanted to become.
AmNews: What advice would you give to other young Black men who grew up with only a strong, hardworking mother in their lives?
SB: First, love your mother. Honor her sacrifice. Second, find your community because you can’t do this alone. Surround yourself with people who can support you, challenge you, and remind you that you’re not by yourself. Third, learn to express yourself. You need an outlet whether it’s art, sports, writing, music, or something else. If you hold everything in, it’s going to come out eventually, and not always in the right way. Give yourself a safe place to put that passion, anger, and frustration.
And finally, remember this: it’s not your fault. All you can do is the best you can with what you have.
AmNews: You are on a healing journey. Where do you hope it will lead you?
SB: I hope it leads me to peace. I want to be able to set this weight down and walk away without feeling the need to pick it back up or even look back at it. If there’s an end to this journey, that’s what I’m aiming for: peace.
AmNews: Where did you grow up and go to college? What was your major?
SB: I grew up in North Chicago, Illinois, for most of my childhood. I went to Kean University in New Jersey, where I majored in political science. At the time, my plan was to go to law school and become a lawyer. But after college, opportunities opened up around my writing, and I chose to follow that path instead.
AmNews: Why should people come to experience “Holes in the Shape of my Father?”
SB: Because it’s more than my story, it’s our story. This isn’t just a play about growing up without a father. It’s a blues about what happens to boys in the absence of men. It’s about the silence of women, the weight of generational curses, and the ways we’ve always healed through poetry, music, and storytelling. This is the most personal piece I’ve ever written, and I’m inviting the audience to come on that healing journey with me. To laugh, to cry, or to laugh to keep from crying. To share in an experience that touches us all whether directly, or through someone we know. And maybe — by the end — to find the courage to forgive someone in their own life.
This stunning play runs through Oct. 12. Visit thetank.org for more info.