Arts & Entertainment
Psychology of abuse
Lesbian drama explores tumultuous relationship set in Baltimore
Playwright Ira Kip in Washington last weekend for performances of her lesbian domestic violence drama ‘She’Baltimore.’ (Photo courtesy Kip)
At last weekend’s D.C.-area debut of writer/director Ira Kip’s new play “She’Baltimore,” the scene was set for a fight, possibly to the death. The production’s spare set suggested a boxing ring. There were the standard chairs in opposite corners, but instead of ropes, the ring was fenced by crime scene tape.
Set in Baltimore, Kip’s hour-long theater piece explores domestic violence within the LGBT community. It focuses on Linay (also Kip in a nuanced performance) and her girlfriend Ebone (nicely underplayed by Nicole McManus). They have their good times, but when things go wrong between them, they go toxically wrong, resulting in beatings and emergency room visits. Interestingly the playwright (who declines to state her own sexual orientation) has somewhat blurred the lines regarding blame: Yes, it’s Ebone who busts her lover’s lip, but then again there’s Linay’s explosive temper. And when Ebone makes a move to exit what she realizes is an unsalvageable relationship, it’s Linay who pleads with her to stay.
Before coming to D.C., “She’Baltimore” premiered in Amsterdam and then played in Baltimore. In celebration of D.C. Black Pride, the Blade sponsored the production’s two-night run at the Warehouse over Memorial Day weekend. And despite some problems beyond the production’s control — loud music blared from Warehouse’s neighbor, the New York Avenue Beach Bar; and Kip was called upon rather last minute to understudy for the actor slated to play Linay — the May 25th performance was a success.
Kip is a gifted playwright. She seamlessly shifts from lyrical prose to raw dialogue. The play’s vignette-like scenes can stand alone, but when strung together they’re more powerful, taking the audience deep into what defines the couple’s disturbing relationship — sexual attraction, beatings, affection, frustration, anger, drug abuse — it’s all there. Additionally, Linay and Ebone come with baggage. Both women are regrettably estranged from their families largely due to their sexuality.
The production’s five-member cast was made up of gay, straight and bisexual black women. As the narrator, Sherry Richardson intermittently relayed domestic violence crimes ripped from the local Baltimore nightly news. Heather Smith played a dismissive intake nurse with a bad attitude. While supplying comic relief, the character also searingly represents the system’s insensitivity and lack of training. And Nia Johnson was appealing as Angel, Linay’s emotional port in the storm.
A post-show discussion on the play’s theme featuring the cast was led by production assistant Bakari Jones.
Kip is Caribbean-born. She has lived in the Netherlands but now calls New York City home. Her play is partly an indictment of America’s reluctance to understand gay people’s lives more fully and its inability to properly respond to LGBT mental and physical health issues in relation to domestic abuse. “She’Baltimore” puts the spotlight on important but not widely discussed topics.
Theater
José Zayas brings ‘The House of Bernarda Alba’ to GALA Hispanic Theatre
Gay Spanish playwright Federico García Lorca wrote masterpiece before 1936 execution
‘The House of Bernarda Alba’
Through March 1
GALA Hispanic Theatre
3333 14th St., N.W.
$27-$52
Galatheatre.org
In Federico García Lorca’s “The House of Bernarda Alba,” now at GALA Hispanic Theatre in Columbia Heights, an impossibly oppressive domestic situation serves, in short, as an allegory for the repressive, patriarchal, and fascist atmosphere of 1930s Spain
The gay playwright completed his final and arguably best work in 1936, just months before he was executed by a right-wing firing squad. “Bernarda Alba” is set in the same year, sometime during a hot summer in rural Andalusia, the heart of “España profunda” (the deep Spain), where traditions are deeply rooted and mores seldom challenged.
At Bernarda’s house, the atmosphere, already stifling, is about to get worse.
On the day of her second husband’s funeral, Bernarda Alba (superbly played by Luz Nicolás), a sixtyish woman accustomed to calling the shots, gathers her five unmarried daughters (ages ranging from 20 to 39) and matter-of-factly explain what’s to happen next.
She says, “Through the eight years of mourning not a breeze shall enter this house. Consider the doors and windows as sealed with bricks. That’s how it was in my father’s house and my grandfather’s. Meanwhile, you can embroider your trousseaux.”
It’s not an altogether sunny plan. While Angustias (María del Mar Rodríguez), Bernarda’s daughter from her first marriage and heiress to a fortune, is betrothed to a much younger catch, Pepe el Romano, who never appears on stage, the remaining four stand little chance of finding suitable matches. Not only are they dowry-less, but no men, eligible or otherwise, are admitted into their mother’s house.
Lorca is a literary hero known for his mastery of both lyrical poetry and visceral drama; still, “Bernarda Alba’s” plotline might suit a telenovela. Despotic mother heads a house of adult daughters. Said daughters are churning with passions and jealousies. When sneaky Martirio (Giselle Gonzáles) steals the photo of Angustias’s fiancé all heck kicks off. Lots of infighting and high drama ensue. There’s even a batty grandmother (Alicia Kaplan) in the wings for bleak comic relief.
At GALA, the modern classic is lovingly staged by José Zayas. The New York-based out director has assembled a committed cast and creative team who’ve manifested an extraordinarily timely 90-minute production performed in Spanish with English subtitles easily ready seen on multiple screens.
In Lorca’s stage directions, he describes the set as an inner room in Bernarda’s house; it’s bright white with thick walls. At GALA, scenic designer Grisele Gonzáles continues the one-color theme with bright red walls and floor and closed doors. There are no props.
In the airless room, women sit on straight back chairs sewing. They think of men, still. Two are fixated on their oldest siter’s hunky betrothed. Only Magdelena (Anna Malavé), the one sister who truly mourns their dead father, has given up on marriage entirely.
The severity of the place is alleviated by men’s distant voices, Koki Lortkipanidze’s original music, movement (stir crazy sisters scratching walls), and even a precisely executed beatdown choreographed by Lorraine Ressegger-Slone.
In a short yet telling scene, Bernarda’s youngest daughter Adela (María Coral) proves she will serve as the rebellion to Bernarda’s dictatorship. Reluctant to mourn, Adela admires her reflection. She has traded her black togs for a seafoam green party dress. It’s a dreamily lit moment (compliments of lighting designer Hailey Laroe.)
But there’s no mistaking who’s in charge. Dressed in unflattering widow weeds, her face locked in a disapproving sneer, Bernarda rules with an iron fist; and despite ramrod posture, she uses a cane (though mostly as a weapon during one of her frequent rages.)
Bernarda’s countenance softens only when sharing a bit of gossip with Poncia, her longtime servant convincingly played by Evelyn Rosario Vega.
Nicolás has appeared in “Bernarda Alba” before, first as daughter Martirio in Madrid, and recently as the mother in an English language production at Carnegie Melon University in Pittsburgh. And now in D.C. where her Bernarda is dictatorial, prone to violence, and scarily pro-patriarchy.
Words and phrases echo throughout Lorca’s play, all likely to signal a tightening oppression: “mourning,” “my house,” “honor,” and finally “silence.”
As a queer artist sympathetic to left wing causes, Lorca knew of what he wrote. He understood the provinces, the dangers of tyranny, and the dimming of democracy. Early in Spain’s Civil War, Lorca was dragged to the the woods and murdered by Franco’s thugs. Presumably buried in a mass grave, his remains have never been found.
Cupid’s Undie Run, an annual fundraiser for neurofibromatosis (NF) research, was held at Union Stage and at The Wharf DC on Saturday, Feb. 21.
(Washington Blade photos by Michael Key)
Sweat DC is officially expanding to Shaw, opening a new location at 1818 7th St., N.W., on Saturday, March 28 — and they’re kicking things off with a high-energy, community-first launch event.
To celebrate, Sweat DC is hosting Sweat Fest, a free community workout and social on Saturday, March 14, at 10 a.m. at the historic Howard Theatre. The event features a group fitness class, live DJ, local food and wellness partners, and a mission-driven partnership with the Open Goal Project, which works to expand access to youth soccer for players from marginalized communities.
For more details, visit Sweat DC’s website and reserve a spot on Eventbrite.
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