Theater
Undercover agent
Creative restlessness, logistics spur Ganymede’s Jeffrey Johnson to new endeavors
EDITOR’S NOTE: This event is over but go here for a review.
‘The Only Gal in Town’
Special Agent Galactica and Christopher Wingert
Dec. 31
8 p.m.
$10
Go Mama Go!
1809 14th Street, N.W.
New Year’s Eve is the birthday of Special Agent Galactica, the performance art drag persona of local gay actor Jeffrey Johnson. So despite logistical hurdles, she’s not letting the occasion pass un-noted.
“The Only Gal in Town,” Galactica’s cabaret act with musical wiz Christopher Wingert, is Dec. 31 at 8 p.m. at Go Mama Go!, the 14th Street shop where Ganymede Arts, the region’s only LGBT arts organization, hosted recent productions of “Falsettos” and “Edie Beale LIVE at Reno Sweeney.”
Galactica, who was born four years ago as one of four drag characters who did a New Year’s Eve show called “SEXE: the Floor Show,” has continued each year. But this year’s show is different in two major regards ā Johnson, in a Galactica first, is doing all the vocals live and it’s not a Ganymede production.
Johnson, who had 11 years of musical theater experience under his belt before moving to D.C. in 1997, found his pipes reawakened when he played the lead in “Falsettos” in September. He’d been mostly directing and lip syncing the last decade-plus.
“I can always do more (lip syncing) and I’m not done with that at all, but I do kind of feel I just wanted to try something different and I’ve been inspired by some of the cabaret artists I’ve gotten to know so I thought, ‘This could be a lot of fun,'” Johnson says.
The original plan for “Falsettos” was for Johnson to only direct but an 11th-hour pass from a friend Johnson had tried to arm twist to play the lead resulted in Johnson playing main character Marvin. That production proved doubly influential for the New Year’s Eve show ā it not only reawakened Johnson’s love of singing, he found a kindred artistic spirit with “Falsettos” musical director/pianist Christopher Wingert, who’s sharing billing with Galactica for next week’s show.
Wingert was an emergency sub for a performance of “Naked Boys Singing,” Ganymede’s May/June show. He did so well, Johnson hired him for a major role in “Falsettos.”
Wingert, who saw Galactica perform for the first time at this summer’s Fringe Festival, says he and Johnson click.
“We have a ton of fun,” he says. “Sticking to the work is sometimes the tricky part because we end up cracking each other up and going off on all kinds of tangents.”
Next week’s show will find Galactica singing songs by Stephen Sondheim, Quincy Jones, Ray Stevens, Rodgers and Hammerstein, Ann-Margaret, Dusty Springfield and others.
So what will Galactica ā whom Johnson admits was conceived as a purposefully ambiguous personality capable of morphing into any guise the lip syncing material demanded ā have to say now that she has the chance to speak? Some might shrug since “Falsettos” already proved Johnson can carry a tune, but for those who’ve seen Galactica’s many performances over the years ā at Miss Pixie’s, at the Fringe or at ACKC ā this is a huge paradigm shift.
Johnson says don’t expect any major soul baring a la Edie Beale’s New Year’s Eve cabaret act which Johnson has performed several times over the last couple years.
“Well, I hate cabaret shows where the people start talking,” he says. “Then it’s just me me me me me me me. I don’t really care. I just want to hear them sing. I didn’t come to hear them relay a life story. That seems a little bit of performance masturbation. So Galactica’s not a big talker. She lets the material speak for itself. I’m still trying to figure out what I need to say or what she would say between songs if she were lip syncing.”
Johnson has never gotten too wrapped up in notions of female illusion. It’s more about toying with notions of gender than trying to make people forget Galactica is played by a man. Subsequently he’ll be using his own vocal register in the show, not aping a higher female range.
“We’re not trying to give them an evening of Castrati,” he says. “It’s all part of the gender-fuck thing. But it’s a gentle gender fucking as it is a holiday.”
Wingert calls Galactica “a class act.”
“She’s a professional,” he says. “That’s the thing that really kind of seals the deal. Yeah, there are lots of performers and some are in wigs and some are not. But the ones that really have the polish and the stage presence to really nail it and just hit every mark every time, that’s very rare and Galactica really has that.”
The Ganymede board is behind Johnson’s venture. It just didn’t have enough money to stage the show itself. An artistically satisfying but financially draining year left the company depleted. “Naked Boys Singing” broke even. “Falsettos” probably would have, Johnson says, except that the company had to put about $10,000 into building a stage and seats in Go Mama Go’s back room after Miss Pixie’s landlord put the kibosh on anymore shows there. Both shows had high royalty fees as well.
“We had a terrific year,” says Ganymede board vice president Jim Bennett. “We put on some spectacular productions on a shoe-string budget and we had a lot of help but the money, in this economy, is just not readily available and we’re kind of always scrambling to make ends meet.”
The New Year’s Eve show will be divided into two acts. The first is voice and piano. A drummer and bass player will join Johnson and Wingert in the second half. It’ll also be over about 9:15 so attendees will have plenty of time to get to the spot in which they want to ring in the new year. Drinks, snacks and champagne will be served. JR.’s and Johnson’s friend, Patrick Vanas, are making donations for that.
So what inspires Johnson to continue forging ahead despite modest payoffs? He admits it’s been “really hard” to reconcile Ganymede’s near-pristine critical record the lack of grant funding and widespread regional support.
“Just being able to do these things is the biggest payoff,” he says. “Having the outlet. When I don’t have the outlet I get extremely depressed, moody. So it’s just that I’m grateful to have it ā¦ as a person, I’m artistically fulfilled. As an artistic director of a company, I think there’s a lot left to be desired ā¦ there’s no bragging rights to say you’re a patron of Ganymede like there is at Studio, or Arena, or to say, ‘Oh, I’m a patron of the Kennedy Center.’ā¦ Sometimes I don’t feel the community support is there.”
Bennett says anyone who hasn’t seen Johnson perform as Galactica should.
“He’s very talented and puts 110 percent into everything he does and he does it to perfection,” he says. “The kid has a lot of talent and a lot of dedication. I would love to see him be a really big star someday because he’s so committed to his art. If you have not yet seen him in this type of performance, you have to go. He is just terrific.”
Theater
A contemporary take on āRomeo and Julietā at Folger
Creating a world that appeals to young audiences
āRomeo and Julietā
Through November 10
Folger Theatre
201 East Capitol St. S.E., Washington, D.C.
$20-$84
Folger.edu
In out director Raymond O. Caldwellās production of āRomeo and Julietā currently playing at Folger Theatre, the Capulet family are Puerto Rican except for Lord Capulet (Todd Scoffield) who is white with a Southern accent.
Fran Tapia (Lady Capulet), Luz Nicolas (Nurse), and Caro Reyes Rivera (Juliet) all speak Spanish when they are together. Rosa Garay LĆ³pez (Translator and Interpreter) translated certain scenes into Spanish. The Montagues are played by a cast of multiracial and multiethnic actors.
Tapia, a Helen Hayes Award-winning actor, identifies as part of the LGBTQ community. She says, “I am Chilean, Latina, queer and a proud immigrant.”
After receiving her acting degree in Santiago de Chile, Catholic University, Tapia started working professionally as an actor and a dancer with contemporary dance companies.
The newly single actor has been living in D.C. since 2019 and plans to remain based here. Recently, she shared her experiences playing Julietās mother in Shakespeareās story of the star-crossed lovers, a play she first read as a girl in Santiago.
WASHINGTON BLADE: Typically, Lady Capulet is portrayed as detached, a woman who canāt even remember her daughterās age. Whatās your spin on the Capulet matriarch?
FRAN TAPIA: From what Iāve read and seen, including productions and films, sheās a woman who has distanced herself from her daughter.
I see the part differently. I want to make it special, to get away from the hard mother. She does care about her husband and daughter. Her expectations are shaped by society more than anything, she has conservative goals, but that doesnāt mean that she doesnāt love her daughter.
BLADE: What else about your Lady Capulet is unique?
TAPIA: First of all, sheās Puerto Rican. She speaks in Spanish and English. She loves to sing. Sheās a party girl. Sheās a devoted wife and partner in crime with Lord Capulet, sharing both his ambition and devotion to family.
Lady Capulet wants to look pretty and she loves money. And she wants to be blonde, of course. I wear 26-inch blonde extensions for the part. Iām giving so much drama to it. Itās fun and dramatic and over the top.
She can share secrets with the Nurse played by Luz [Nicolas]. There are nuances with how she speaks to her. Lady Capulet speaks English when she wants to be formal. Luz brings the comedy. Sheās also, a very good dramatic actress.
BLADE: Itās a contemporary take on the Bardās masterpiece.
TAPIA: Itās super contemporary. Raymond [Caldwell] is looking to create a world that appeals to young audiences. Heās working with so many designers doing projection, lighting, and sound. There are so many surprises for you.
BLADE: Am I right in guessing itās not set in Verona.
TAPIA: Itās set in a fictionalized Washington, D.C., inspired by the election year. The Capulets are a conservative political family based on nobody in particular. Theyāre struggling for power through the marriage of their daughter. Unlike the source material, theyāre not trying to marry off a teenager. Itās more about preserving a legacy. Thatās scary to lose when youāre used to having it.
BLADE: How is working with Raymond? Iāve heard so many good things about him.
TAPIA: Prior to joining the cast, Iād heard from friends that he was good, but I had no idea how good. When I got this part, I gave myself the opportunity to offer my resources like singing. And heās been super receptive.
Raymond is very clear and bold. Lady Capulet has problems with addiction more intense than I imagined. I wonāt specify but weāre diving into all of that. There are so many kinds of addiction including social media for instance. In real life, Iām addicted to Diet Coke as anyone in the cast can tell you.
BLADE: Is Lady Capulet a part youāve longed to play?
TAPIA: Not really, but under the direction of Raymond Iām loving every second of it. His view of things has given me a lot of freedom that I didnāt expect.
Theater
āActing their asses offā in āException to the Ruleā
Studio production takes place during after-school detention
āException to the Ruleā
Through Sunday, October 27
Studio Theatre
1501 14th St. NW, Washington, D.C.
$40-$95
Studiotheatre.org
After-school detention is a bore, but itās especially tiresome on the last day of classes before a holiday.
In Dave Harrisās provocative new play āException to the Ruleā (now at Studio Theatre) thatās just the case.
Itās Friday, and the usual suspects are reporting to room 111 for detention before enjoying the long MLK weekend. First on the scene are blaring ābad girlā Mikayla (Khalia Muhammad) and nerdy stoner Tommy (Steven Taylor Jr.), followed by mercurial player Dayrin (Jacques Jean-Mary), kind Dasani (Shana Lee Hill), and unreadable Abdul (Khouri St.Surin).Ā
The familiar is jaw-droppingly altered by the entrance of āCollege Bound Erikaā (Sabrina Lynne Sawyer), a detention first timer whose bookworm presence elicits jokes from the others: What happened? You fail a test?
Dasani (whoās teased for being named for designer water) dubs Erika āSweet Peaā and welcomes her to the rule-breaking fold. Together the regulars explain how detention works: The moderator, Mr. Bernie, shows up, signs their slips, and then they go. But today the teacher is tardy.
As they wait, the kids pass the time laughing, trash talking, flirting, and yelling. When not bouncing around the classroom, Dayrin is grooming his hair, while Dasani endlessly reapplies blush and lip gloss. At one point two boys almost come to blows, nearly repeating the cafeteria brawl that landed them in detention in the first place.
Itās loud. Itās confrontational. And itās funny.
Erika is naively perplexed: āI thought detention was quiet. A place where everyone remembers the mistakes that got them here and then learns how to not make the same mistakes again.ā
For room 111, the only connection to the outside world is an increasingly glitchy and creepy intercom system. Announcements (bus passes, the schoolās dismal ranking, the impending weekend lockdown, etc.) are spoken by the unseen but unmistakably stentorian-voiced Craig Wallace.
Dave Harris first conceived āException to the Ruleā in 2014 during his junior year at Yale University. In the program notes, the Black playwright describes āException to the Ruleā as āa single set / six actors on a stage, just acting their asses off.ā Itās true, and they do it well.
Miranda Haymon is reprising their role as director (they finely helmed the playās 2022 off-Broadway debut at Roundabout Theatre Company in New York). Haymon orchestrates a natural feel to movement in the classroom, and without entirely stilling the action on stage (makeup applying, scribbling, etc.), the out director gives each member of the terrific cast their revelatory moment. In a busy room, we learn that Tommyās goofiness belies trauma, that Mikayla is admirably resourceful, and most startling, why Erika, the schoolās top student, is in detention.
Mr. Bernie is clearly a no-show. And despite his absence, the regulars are bizarrely loath to leave the confines of 111 for fear of catching yet another detention. Of course, itās emblematic of something bigger. Still, things happen within the room.
While initially treated as a sort of mascot, awkwardly quiet Erika becomes rather direct in her questions and observations. Suddenly, sheās rather stiffly doling out unsolicited advice.
Itās as if an entirely new person has been thrown into the mix.
Not all of her guidance goes unheeded. Take fighting for instance. At Erikaās suggestion, St.Surinās Abdul refrains from kicking Dayrinās ass. (Just feet from the audience gathered for a recent matinee in Studioās intimate Mead Theatre, Abdulās frustration resulting from anger while yearning for a world of principled order is palpable as evidenced when a single tear rolled down the actorās right cheek)
Set designer Tony Cisek renders a no-frills classroom with cinder block walls, a high and horizontal row of frosted fixed windows that become eerily prison like when overhead fluorescent lighting is threateningly dimmed.
Still, no matter how dark, beyond the classroom door, a light remains aglow, encouraging the kids to ponder an exit plan.
Theater
Broadening space for gender nonconforming singers
Robin McGinness, a transfemme baritone, featured in āCradle Will Rockā
āThe Cradle Will RockāĀ
Goldman Theater DCJCC (10/5-13) and
Baltimore Theatre Project (10/18-20)
Inseries.org
Robin McGinness, an accomplished Baltimore-based transfemme baritone, knows a lot about music. Also, as a gender nonconforming performer sheās learned how to navigate and carve out a career in opera.
Currently, she is playing Mr. Mister in the IN Series production of āThe Cradle Will Rock,ā a 1937 Brechtian allegory of corporate greed written and composed by Marc Blitzstein who was openly gay when that wasnāt an easy thing to be.
IN Series, D.C.ās innovative opera theater, which happens to rank high among McGinnessās favorite companies, infuses its take on a seldom seen classic with new energy, humor, melody, and a thirst for justice. The production features a cast of some the areaās best young vocalists and is helmed by Shanara Gabrielle (stage direction) and Emily Baltzer (musical direction).
Growing up in southern New Hampshire, McGinness started off performing in Waldorf school, followed by Vermontās progressive Putney boarding school, and then Oberlin College where she focused in vocal performance after having been singled out as a well-rounded baritone.
WASHINGTON BLADE: What drew you to IN Series?
ROBIN MCGINNESS: They [out artistic director Timothy Nelson and other company members] were doing work that didnāt take opera too preciously. No kid gloves. The theater world has large productions collapsed down to smaller audiences. Thatās a mode that opera might follow. IN Series was doing things that excited me.
My first show with them was two years ago. Iād just moved back from being a young artist with an opera company in Arizona when IN Series needed someone for āNightsong of Orpheus.ā Truly a wild piece of theater that I loved. Since then, Iāve been talking them up with everyone I meet, and enthusiastically engaging with them when I can.
BLADE: How is it to be transfemme in the opera world?
MCGINNESS: Performing hasnāt always been easy for me. There was a time when my self-image and identity aligned with composing, to produce beautiful complex music behind the scenes and not have to be center of attention.
Coming into my undergrad years, my intention was to pursue music and divorce myself from certain parts of identity including my gender identity that I didnāt think would help my career. But that would change.
I had awareness and had for years but made a choice that being a musician was the most important part of my identity. As I got to the end of undergrad my picture of what success meant had changed and I couldnāt live with this absolutist way of living my life.
BLADE: And how has that worked out?
MCGINNESS: Iāve been trying to break down barriers between the personal and professional sides and try to combine that into something more functional. It can feel dangerous.
Early on when trying to figure out how to present as a female baritone in the opera, the question I got most was wonāt that effect your voice? People are more understanding now. And Iām grateful to those who have broadened this space for gender nonconforming singers.
BLADE: Does it take courage?
MCGINNESS: Yes, but Iām not pursuing the same career that I was. Iām interested in performing with IN Series now. Iām not trying to pursue a full-time touring opera career.
It seems that either opera companies wouldnāt want to hire because they feel they couldnāt bring you out to donors or companies would want to hire but for the identity politics of it. Both would be anathema to me.
Itās a ridiculously competitive industry. But Iām building a career in the area where I am now, and itās going well. With people who know my work and hire me for the work.
BLADE: What can we expect from āThe Cradle Will Rockā?
MCGINNESS: If youāre expecting Puccini, it wonāt be that. Itās gritty. A lot of spoken dialogue. Closer to spoken theater with some music thrown in than it is an opera.
It pokes out power and dynamics that queer audiences might enjoy seeing be deconstructed, particularly when itās done in a really smart way.
BLADE: Whatās ahead for you?
MCGINNESS: Iām 33. Musically, Iām just hitting my prime so I have some good years of singing ahead of me.
I like my work to be complex, interwoven and layered. In addition to performing, I teach career courses and work in the career office mentoring students at Peabody Institute in Baltimore. All of us who do that here are practicing performers. As long as I have performance work coming in and have money to put bread on the table, Iām happy ā way too busy ā but happy.
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