Play (2011)
by Lauren Gunderson
Directed by Sarah Shin
Central Square Theater
Central Square, Cambridge, MA
September 11 – October 5, 2025
Scenic Designer: Qingan Zhang; Costume Designer: Leslie Held; Lighting Designer: Eduardo M. Ramirez; Sound Designer and Composer: Kai BOhlman; Assistant Composer: Violet Want; Projection Designer: Michi Zaya
With Jenny S, Lee (Henrietta Leavitt), Lee Mikeska Gardner (Williamina Fleming), Erica Cruz Hernández (Annie Cannon), Max Jackson (Peter Shaw), Kandyce Whittingham (Margaret Leavitt)

in “Silent Sky”
Photo: Nile Scott Studios
Courtesy of Central Square Theater
Women in the early twentieth century were not allowed to be research astronomers, but Harvard had, as part of its astronomical department, a group of women who served as so-called computers. (Interestingly, as noted in the 2017 film Hidden Figures based on the 2016 book of the same name by Margot Lee Shetterly, the women who served roles as expert calculators for the early US space program, were also called computers.) These were, however, remarkably capable and talented women, including, along with Leavitt, Williamina Fleming (Lee Mikeska Gardner) and Annie Cannon (Erica Cruz Hernández) who contributed significantly to modern astronomy. Leavitt, in particular, was the discoverer of a certain pattern of brightness and pulsing in a category of stars called Cepheids, and her calculations and inferences from those led to the modern conception of the vast size of the universe. Previous to her work, many astronomers believed that the universe was no larger than the Milky Way, but Leavitt’s initial intuitions led to her subsequent derivations that the universe was much much larger. In fact, it was Leavitt’s discovery that led Edwin Hubble, noted for many subsequent astronomical discoveries, to deduce that there was not just one galaxy – our Milky Way – but billions of others. Quite remarkable indeed, and one might expect that Leavitt would be heralded much more than she is, but that was the fate of many women like Leavitt who operated in a man’s universe despite their enormous talents.
I had seen this play at the Merrimack Repertory Theatre in Lowell, MA some years back and was deeply impressed at the time by Leavitt’s accomplishments and those of her women colleagues at Harvard. The story is both a daunting and an inspiring one. Lowell’s consistent determination to pursue her research on Cepheid stars is indeed inspiring; the way in which the Harvard professors, in complete coordination with academic and wider culture of the time, minimized and suppressed the work of brilliant women is depressing. Kudos to Gunderson for bringing this story to light and kudos to Central Square Theatre which, over the years, has made a point of producing plays about great women scientists whose work has been soft-pedaled or almost completely unrecognized. (Another notable instance of such a play produced by Central Square some years ago was Photograph 51 by Anna Ziegler, about Rosalind Franklin, a researcher whose X-ray researches on DNA led directly to Watson’s and Crick’s famous discovery of the double helix.)
The current production is unique and interesting in a variety of ways. Though Leavitt herself was Anglo-Saxon, she is played here by Jenny S. Lee, an Asian-American actor, which gives a new twist on the general subject, since so much of the academic world in the United States has been populated by Asian or Asian-American researchers. Lee does a great job of bringing Leavitt’s gumption to the fore and does so with sparkle and wit. Lee is also adept at conveying her character’s emotional depth and complexity, and the vulnerability she exhibits in human relationships, indeed sometimes unexpected ones.
Central Square Theater artistic director Lee Mikeska Gardner fills the role of Williamina Fleming, Leavitt’s somewhat senior colleague at Harvard and provides a constant stream of witty lines with pungency and power. Together with Lee, and with Erica Cruz Hernández, who plays researcher Annie Cannon, there is a great deal of fun and sparkle in this production with many sharp and hilarious moments of repartee. One would not immediately think that a play about astronomers would be that funny, but in this case it is, and good for Lauren Gunderson to provide not only a potent message about women and science but a very good time in telling about it. Both Gardner and Hernández work well with Lee in providing a good deal of sharp-tongued give and take, but, in some way, Gardner leads this wit-fest with particular potency and charge, making the production a lot of fun.
The butt of many of these jokes, and, in many ways the straight man, is Peter Shaw (Max Jackson), the somewhat dull and traditional astronomer and member of the department who serves as the attache and stand-in for the more senior staff and who, as things develop, becomes a romantic counterpart to Leavitt. (I imagine that Gunderson has added this romantic twist as seasoning to the mix, given that the biographical material on Leavitt is quite thin.) Jackson does a good job of being the doofus and also being sensitive enough to recognize Leavitt’s talents and being drawn personally to her. Gunderson has given a believable yet poignant trajectory to this romance and Jackson does a good job of filling the bill. He’s a character limited by deficiencies of imagination and vision, but has the capacity to recognize Leavitt’s greater capacities. One of the many great lines in the show is his. Speaking of his admiration for and attraction to Leavitt he says: You are the brightest thing in my day, and we study stars.
Lee also gives a lovely account of Leavitt’s emotional life, demonstrating how her character is capable of attraction and attachment to even less capable types, and accounting for the personal toll of that on her life. (Things are made complex by Leavitt’s father’s illness and Leavitt’s obligation to return to her home in the Midwest to attend to him.) Kandyce Whittingham, as Leavitt’s sister Margaret, does a serviceable job of demonstrating the alternative life choices that make Henrietta’s vocational calling seem so unique and distinct, as well as conveying the various demands for family obligation that come to complicate Henrietta’s life.
Overall: a lovely and sparkling take on a witty and moving play about brilliant women who pursued and succeeded in pursuing their scientific passions while having to do so in a world dominated by men, often far less capable than they.
– BADMan (aka Charles Munitz)
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