Arts & Entertainment
Strongly brewed ‘Tea’
Black gay performance piece gives author one-man tour de force
‘Sweet Tea’
Through Oct. 9
Signature Theatre
4200 Campbell Avenue, Arlington
703-820-9771
signature-theatre.org
E. Patrick Johnson in ‘Sweet Tea,’ a pastiche-based performance piece on stage now at Signature. (Photo by Scott Suchman; courtesy Signature)
As a chubby little gay boy growing up in Hickory, N.C., E. Patrick Johnson staved off bullies by making them laugh. His specialty was imitations. The moment would-be tormentors planned to attack, Johnson typically averted imminent pain by breaking into an uncanny impersonation of a less-than-loved teacher.
Today Johnson, a performance artist and professor of performance studies and African-American studies at Northwestern University in Chicago, is neither class clown nor chubby, but mimicry remains an integral part of his skill set. In his one-person performance piece “Sweet Tea” — now in production at Signature Theatre — Johnson portrays himself as well as a dozen other gay black characters drawn from real life interview subjects. With names like Countess Vivian, Chaz/Chastity and D.C., the men Johnson brings to life are a part of the South that sometimes goes unnoticed.
Amiable and soft spoken offstage, Johnson says, “I can assure theatergoers that they haven’t seen this play before — these kind of gay black experiences have never been shared before in a theater. LGBT audiences in particular will connect with these men’s stories in ways that may even surprise themselves.”
Johnson’s desire to record black gay men’s stories was sparked on a visit to Washington back in 1995. “I was at a cookout for Us Helping US, and I became engrossed with a group of African-American gay men who were sitting around a table sharing experiences about growing up in the day in the South. Then and there, I vowed that when I had the time and the resources to collect these stories I would. I feel it’s important to create an archive of these never-before-documented lives.”
Eventually, Johnson followed through: In 2004, he took a sabbatical from Northwestern and began collecting narratives from 77 African-American gay men ages 19 to 92 from all the southern states as well as Oklahoma and Missouri (both of which had been slave states). In 2008, he published an oral-history anthology titled “Sweet Tea: Black Gay Men of the South.”
It was about a year into the project when Johnson realized that in addition to making a book, the interviews would also make a great performance. The material is rich and covers a wide range of topics: coming out, love and relationships, HIV/AIDS, bullying (Freddie recounts carrying a razor blade for protection), religion, mama drama, and of course sex (another character had sex with the entire football team in high school). Full of humor and poignancy, the tales are ultimately universal.
“In the past,” says Johnson, 44, “I’ve done staged readings of collected monologues in which I’d sit on a stool giving vocal impressions of different characters. But with ‘Sweet Tea’ it’s different — it’s a play and I fully embody the characters.”
“From the start, I intuitively knew that I was part of the ‘Sweet Tea’ story but it took me a while to understand that it’s my story too. While we were workshopping the play in Chicago, the show’s producer Jane Saks and others involved in the project agreed that I needed to interject my own story into the work. As it turned out, my own experiences are a through line: I’m in search of something and the other men help me to find it.”
Johnson has enjoyed electrifying rapport with audiences. He remembers a specific sold out performance of “Pouring Tea” (an earlier performance piece also comprised of gay black men’s stories) at the University of Pennsylvania.
“The crowd was mostly black and gay, and they were identifying with the show’s coming out stories, the church stories. The energy was unreal. We were levitating.”
His audiences at Signature will most likely be drawn primarily from a different demographic. Does that worry Johnson?
“I’ve been schooled about Signature’s blue-haired crowd, but I learned long ago never to make assumptions about audiences. I remember performing at the main library in downtown Mobile, Alabama, for a mostly white, straight crowd. During the post-show Q&A session, a minister thanked me for bringing the show to town. He approved of open talk about sexuality. After all, he said, God was there for the first wet vagina and the first erection. A hush fell over the room, and after what felt like an endless silence, I offered up an ‘Amen!’ It seemed right.”
Denali (@denalifoxx) of “RuPaul’s Drag Race” performed at Pitchers DC on April 9 for the Thirst Trap Thursday drag show. Other performers included Cake Pop!, Brooke N Hymen, Stacy Monique-Max and Silver Ware Sidora.
(Washington Blade photos by Michael Key)
Arts & Entertainment
In an act of artistic defiance, Baltimore Center Stage stays focused on DEI
‘Maybe it’s a triple-down’
By LESLIE GRAY STREETER | I’m always tickled when people complain about artists “going political.” The inherent nature of art, of creation and free expression, is political. This becomes obvious when entire governments try to threaten it out of existence, like in 2025, when the brand-new presidential administration demanded organizations halt so-called diversity, equity and inclusion (DEI) programming or risk federal funding.
Baltimore Center Stage’s response? A resounding and hearty “Nah.” A year later, they’re still doubling down on diversity.
“Maybe it’s a triple-down,” said Ken-Matt Martin, the theater’s producing director, chuckling.
The rest of this article can be found on the Baltimore Banner’s website.
‘La Lucci’
By Susan Lucci with Laura Morton
c.2026, Blackstone Publishing
$29.99/196 pages
They’re among the world’s greatest love stories.
You know them well: Marc Antony and Cleopatra. Abelard and Heloise. Phoebe and Langley. Cliff and Nina. Jesse and Angie, Opal and Palmer, Palmer and Daisy, Tad and Dixie. Now read “La Lucci” by Susan Lucci, with Laura Morton, and you might also think of Susan and Helmut.
When she was a very small girl, Susan Lucci loved to perform. Also when she was young, she learned that words have power. She vowed to use them for good for the rest of her life.
Her parents, she says, were supportive and her family, loving. Because of her Italian heritage, she was “ethnic looking” but Lucci’s mother was careful to point out dark-haired beauties on TV and elsewhere, giving Lucci a foundation of confidence.
That’s just one of the things for which Lucci says she’s grateful. In fact, she says, “Prayers of gratitude are how I begin and end each day.”
She is particularly grateful for becoming a mother to her two adult children, and to the doctors who saved her son’s life when he was a newborn.
Lucci writes about gratitude for her long career. She was a keystone character on TV’s “All My Children,” and she learned a lot from older actors on the show, and from Agnes Nixon, the creator of it. She says she still keeps in touch with many of her former costars.
She is thankful for her mother’s caretakers, who stepped in when dementia struck. Grateful for more doctors, who did heart-saving work when Lucci had a clogged artery. Grateful for friends, opportunities, life, grandchildren, and a career that continues.
And she’s grateful for the love she shared with her husband, Helmut Huber, who died nearly four years ago. Grateful for the chance to grieve, to heal, and to continue.
And yet, she says of her husband: “He was never timid, but I know he was afraid at the end, and that kills me down to my soul.”
“It’s been 15 years since Erica Kane and I parted ways,” says author Susan Lucci (with Laura Morton), and she says that people still approach her to confirm or deny rumors of the show’s resurrection. There’s still no answer to that here (sorry, fans), but what you’ll find inside “La Lucci” is still exceptionally generous.
If this book were just filled with stories, you’d like it just fine. If it was only about Lucci’s faith and her gratitude – words that happen to appear very frequently here – you’d still like reading it. But Lucci tells her stories of family, children and “All My Children,” while also offering help to couples who’ve endured miscarriage, women who’ve had heart problems, and widow(ers) who are spinning and need the kindness of someone who’s lived loss, too.
These are the other things you’ll find in “La Lucci,” in a voice you’ll hear in your head, if you spent your lunch hours glued to the TV back in the day. It’s a comfortable, fun read for fans. It’s a story you’ll love.
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