Arts & Entertainment
Not so cut and dried
San Francisco-based author writes of gender struggles
‘Nina Here nor There: My Journey Beyond Gender’
Nick Krieger
Beacon Press
202 pages
$15
You’ve always hated your nose.
It sticks out too much. Or it’s too small. Or your ears make you look like you’re part elephant. Or your lips are too pouty, your thighs too big, your arms too fat, you hate your butt.
You can change all of the above and then some.
But would you have the courage to alter the very things that define you to the rest of society? In the new book “Nina Here nor There” by Nick Krieger, you’ll see why one young man did.
When writer-blogger Nina Krieger landed in San Francisco’s Castro district, she felt welcomed.
Her lesbian friends, the “A-gays,” folded her into their circle with parties. Old pals were glad to see Krieger and she was glad to find an apartment with roommates she could tolerate. She even found a job that allowed her to continue writing.
But Kreiger wasn’t happy. For years, she’d struggled with gender identity: she was not a lesbian, not exactly a woman but yet – she was. Being in The Castro gave her hope, though, and unwittingly, she had surrounded herself with people who could give her guidance.
Greg, with his newly flat chest and eagerness for life, was willing to share his experiences with surgery and testosterone shots. Jess, one of Kreiger’s roommates, was transitioning and taught Kreiger about “packing” and binding. Zippy, a long-time friend, gave optimistic support.
“Before moving to the Castro, I’d thought becoming a man was as realistic as growing wings,” Kreiger writes.
But living “with her community” gave Kreiger the courage to try. Deciding that breasts were the worst part of who she was, Kreiger bought minimizers and purchased the other body parts she lacked. Little by little, she allowed her family careful peeks into the person she knew herself to be. She “convinced” herself that she belonged, yet she was uneasy. What exists between girl and boy?
“I didn’t fully relate to either anymore,” Kreiger writes.
Despite a fear of needles, unfazed by a list of realities and heartbroken by a paternal lack of understanding, Kreiger knew she had to find out.
“Nina Here nor There” is a bit of a conundrum. On one side, author Nick Kreiger takes his readers by the hand, allowing us to see what he sees. As Kreiger explores the gender spectrum, we do too. At the same time he’s seeing the blurred lines of woman and not-woman, we see it as well. The journey is a good one, shared.
Toward the end of the book, one begins to relate to the frustration the author is feeling as we, too, yearn for resolution. Continuing becomes a bit of a struggle as we begin to relate to the push-pull Kreiger feels. Arriving at the denouement comes as a relief. The book is a captivating fresh take on the fluidity of gender to which many LGBTs will relate.
Theater
Out dancer on Alvin Ailey’s stint at Warner Theatre
10-day production marks kickoff of national tour
Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater
Through Feb. 8
Warner Theatre
513 12th St., N.W.
Tickets start at $75
ailey.org
The legendary Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater is coming to Washington’s Warner Theatre, and one of its principal veterans couldn’t be more pleased. Out dancer Renaldo Maurice is eager to be a part of the company’s 10-day stint, the kickoff of a national tour that extends through early May.
“I love the respectful D.C. crowd and they love us,” says Maurice, a member of esteemed modern dance company for 15 years. The traveling tour is made of two programs and different casting with Ailey’s masterwork “Revelations” in both programs.
Recently, we caught up with Maurice via phone. He called from one of the quiet rooms in his New York City gym where he’s getting his body ready for the long Ailey tour.
Based in North Newark, N.J., where he recently bought a house, Maurice looks forward to being on the road: “I enjoy the rigorous performance schedule, classes, shows, gym, and travel. It’s all part of carving out a lane for myself and my future and what that looks like.”
Raised by a single mother of three in Gary, Ind., Maurice, 33, first saw Alvin Ailey as a young kid in the Auditorium Theatre in downtown Chicago, the same venue where he’s performed with the company as a professional dancer.
He credits his mother with his success: “She’s a real dance mom. I would not be the man or artist I am today if it weren’t for the grooming and discipline of my mom. Support and encouragement. It’s impacted my artistry and my adulthood.”
Maurice is also part of the New York Ballroom scene, an African-American and Latin underground LGBTQ+ subculture where ball attendees “walk” in a variety of categories (like “realness,” “fashion,” and “sex siren”) for big prizes. He’s known as the Legendary Overall Father of the Haus of Alpha Omega.
WASHINGTON BLADE: Like many gay men of his era, Ailey lived a largely closeted public life before his death from AIDS-related complications in 1989.
RENALDO MAURICE Not unusual for a Black gay man born during the Depression in Rogers, Texas, who’s striving to break out in the industry to be a creative. You want to be respected and heard. Black man, and Black man who dances, and you may be same-sex gender loving too. It was a lot, especially at that time.
BLADE: Ailey has been described as intellectual, humble, and graceful. He possessed strength. He knew who he was and what stories he wanted to tell.
MAURICE: Definitely, he wanted to concentrate on sharing and telling stories. What kept him going was his art. Ailey wanted dancers to live their lives and express that experience on stage. That way people in the audience could connect with them. It’s incredibly powerful that you can touch people by moving your body.
That’s partly what’s so special about “Revelations,” his longest running ballet and a fan favorite that’s part of the upcoming tour. Choreographed by Alvin Ailey in 1960, it’s a modern dance work that honors African-American cultural heritage through themes of grief, joy, and faith.
BLADE: Is “Revelation” a meaningful piece for you?
MAURICE: It’s my favorite piece. I saw it as a kid and now perform it as a professional dance artist. I’ve grown into the role since I was 20 years old.
BLADE: How can a dancer in a prestigious company also be a ballroom house father?
MAURICE: I’ve made it work. I learned how to navigate and separate. I’m a principal dancer with Ailey. And I take that seriously. But I’m also a house father and I take that seriously as well.
I’m about positivity, unity, and hard work. In ballroom you compete and if you’re not good, you can get chopped. You got to work on your craft and come back harder. It’s the same with dance.
BLADE: Any message for queer audiences?
MAURICE: I know my queer brothers and sisters love to leave with something good. If you come to any Ailey performance you’ll be touched, your spirit will be uplifted. There’s laughter, thoughtful and tender moments. And it’s all delivered by artists who are passionate about what they do.
BLADE: Alvin Ailey has been a huge part of your life. Thoughts on that?
MAURICE: I’m a believer in it takes a village. Hard work and discipline. I take it seriously and I love what I do. Ailey has provided me with a lot: world travel, a livelihood, and working with talented people here and internationally. Alvin Ailey has been a huge part of my life from boyhood to now. It’s been great.
Catfish Comedy will host “2026 Queer Kickoff Show” on Thursday, Feb. 5 at A League of Her Own (2319 18th Street, N.W.). This show features D.C.’s funniest LGBTQ and femme comedians. The lineup features performers who regularly take the stage at top clubs like DC Improv and Comedy Loft, with comics who tour nationally.
Tickets are $17.85 and can be purchased on Eventbrite.
Arts & Entertainment
Catherine O’Hara, ‘Schitt’s Creek’ star and celebrated queer ally, dies at 71
Actress remembered for memorable comedic roles in ‘Beetlejuice’ and ‘Home Alone’
Catherine O’Hara, the varied comedic actor known for memorable roles in “Beetlejuice,” “Schitt’s Creek,” and “Home Alone,” has died at 71 on Friday, according to multiple reports. No further details about her death were revealed.
O’Hara’s death comes as a shock to Hollywood, as the Emmy award-winning actor has been recently active, with roles in both “The Studio” and “The Last of Us.” For her work in those two shows, she received Emmy nominations for outstanding supporting actress in a comedy series and outstanding guest actress in a drama series.
In 2020, O’Hara won the Outstanding Lead Actress in a comedy series award for her work in the celebrated sixth and final season of “Schitt’s Creek.” She was also known as a queer ally and icon for her theatrical and often campy performances over multiple decades. In “Schitt’s Creek,” she played Moira Rose, the wig-loving mother of David Rose (played by series creator Dan Levy). David is pansexual, but the characters around him simply accept him for who he is; the show was embraced by the LGBTQ community with how naturally David’s sexuality was written and portrayed. That show ran from 2015 to 2020 and helped bring O’Hara and her co-stars into a new phase of their careers.
In a 2019 interview with the Gay Times, O’Hara explained why the show got LGBTQ representation right: “Daniel has created a world that he wants to live in, that I want to live in. It’s ridiculous that we live in a world where we don’t know how to respect each other and let each other be. It’s crazy. Other shows should follow suit and present the world and present humans as the best that we can be. It doesn’t mean you can’t laugh, that you can’t be funny in light ways and dark ways. It’s all still possible when you respect and love each other.”
Additional credits include “SCTV Network” (for which O’Hara won a writing Emmy), “Beetlejuice Beetlejuice,” “Curb Your Enthusiasm,” “Six Feet Under,” “Best in Show,” “Home Alone 2: Lost in New York,” and “Dick Tracy.” O’Hara also lent her voice to “The Nightmare Before Christmas,” “Chicken Little,” “Monster House,” and “Elemental.” O’Hara was expected to return for Season 2 of “The Studio,” which started filming earlier this month.

