Arts & Entertainment
Queery: John Moletress
The theater visionary answers 20 gay questions
Local theater regulars know former actor John Moletress’s name. But like many creative types, he’s grown restless and is pursuing new artistic vistas. Last summer he started force/collision, an interdisciplinary performance ensemble based in Washington. It kicked off with a piece called “Collapsing Silence” at the Source Theatre. Next month his company will unveil “The Nautical Yards,” a 60-minute site-specific show at the Washington Navy Yard that will tell of two lovers separated by war and sea.
“I think it’s important that we create a large script between the arts and work more holistically,” the 34-year-old Pottsgrove, Pa., native says. “I’ve worked in traditional theater forms, been in lots of plays and musicals, but when we band together it opens up the door to explore different forums and takes us into the next generation of making art together.”
Moletress says some of the traditional forms feel somewhat exhausted to him.
“When you run out of a way to tell a story by speaking it, I think there are other ways to do it,” he says. “Like with dance … when you run out of words, there’s a certain collective memory our body has that we can share with movement. Our bodies become storehouses for our memories.”
Moletress studied acting in college, both in Allentown, Pa., and during graduate school at the University of Tennessee. He spent two years in London in the ‘90s studying acting and modern dance and worked in regional theaters around New York City where he lived in the early ‘00s. He came to Washington in 2008 after two years working as an artistic director at a company in Pennsylvania. In 2009, he started Factory 449, a Helen Hayes-winning project from which he’s since parted ways. Force/collision (force-collision.org) was started with a grant he got through Source Theatre.
Moletress lives in D.C.’s Navy Yard area and enjoys reading — “I have hundreds of books in my apartment” — and decoupage in his free time. (Photo courtesy Moletress)
How long have you been out and who was the hardest person to tell?
Pretty much since high school. Before the Grindr phenomena, we had AOL chat rooms. It was a fun little platform for meeting other high school guys who were for the most part, not out. I can’ t say I really made the choice to come out, so much as outed myself with a crumpled up page ripped from an International Male catalogue I left in my pants pocket. My mother was doing laundry that day. I don’t think she was really surprised, given that my early obsessions included Cheryl Tiegs workout videos and musical theater.
Who’s your LGBT hero?
Christopher Isherwood.
What’s Washington’s best nightspot, past or present?
Does my couch count? Honestly, wherever my friends are. I adore them.
Describe your dream wedding.
No, thank you. Although if I ever found myself wearing a white dress, I’d most likely be standing on a cliff somewhere on the Galway coast of Ireland, contemplating two choices.
What non-LGBT issue are you most passionate about?
Genocide and reconciliation. My friend, Erik Ehn, is a playwright who founded an annual conference to investigate theatre on this subject. He writes about collective trauma. I’ll be directing the premiere of his new play “Shape” which infuses the stories of blacks in 1900 Ambrose Park with the 1921 Tulsa Race Riot.
What historical outcome would you change?
This is a challenging question. I believe we are where and who we are because of our histories. I would negotiate peace and dialogue before violence.
What’s been the most memorable pop culture moment of your lifetime?
Manic Panic hair dye and Siouxsie Sioux on high school Sundays with like-minded outcasts.
On what do you insist?
Pausing and breathing. Oh, and Diet Pepsi.
What was your last Facebook post or Tweet?
@soulographiedesignmeetings at The New Schoolpic.twitter.com
If your life were a book, what would the title be?
I’d have to look to Jackie Collins for inspiration. Perhaps, “The World Is Full of Married Men” or “Lady Boss.”
If science discovered a way to change sexual orientation, what would you do?
Either run screaming or mount Tom Brady.
What do you believe in beyond the physical world?
Connectivity. Universal law. Energy and frequency. Love.
What’s your advice for LGBT movement leaders?
Persevere. Trust your instincts. If one door closes, open another.
What would you walk across hot coals for?
My friends. To have seen Velvet Underground perform live.
What LGBT stereotype annoys you most?
I’m sure I pretty much fit all of them at one point or another. However, I wish we could all be more open to the possibilities of gender duality. Regardless of whether people think I swing more toward my feminine or my masculine side, nothing turns me off more than men who state they are “straight acting” when they like to play leap frog with other men.
What’ s your favorite LGBT movie?
“Mommie Dearest.” The gay man’ s guide to opera acting and OCD.
What’s the most overrated social custom?
Utensils.
What trophy or prize do you most covet?
Bjork’s Polar Music Prize. I wish I could be as brilliant as her.
What do you wish you’d known at 18?
That I was going to live past 25. I certainly didn’t behave that way.
Why Washington?
I’m attracted to the sizzle of American politics. The Hill staffers are cute, too. I dated one for a while. Moreover, this IS a theater town and the resources here for my profession are overwhelming. Source Theatre/Cultural Development Corporation has played an integral part in getting my work seen. I owe a lot to them, especially Jenny McConnell Frederick.
Drag artists perform for crowds in towns across Virginia. The photographer follows Gerryatrick, Shenandoah, Climaxx, Emerald Envy among others over eight months as they perform at venues in the Virginia towns of Staunton, Harrisonburg and Fredericksburg.
(Washington Blade photos by Landon Shackelford)



















Books
New book explores homosexuality in ancient cultures
‘Queer Thing About Sin’ explains impact of religious credo in Greece, Rome
‘The Queer Thing About Sin’
By Harry Tanner
c.2025, Bloomsbury
$28/259 pages
Nobody likes you very much.
That’s how it seems sometimes, doesn’t it? Nobody wants to see you around, they don’t want to hear your voice, they can’t stand the thought of your existence and they’d really rather you just go away. It’s infuriating, and in the new book “The Queer Thing About Sin” by Harry Tanner, you’ll see how we got to this point.
When he was a teenager, Harry Tanner says that he thought he “was going to hell.”
For years, he’d been attracted to men and he prayed that it would stop. He asked for help from a lay minister who offered Tanner websites meant to repress his urges, but they weren’t the panacea Tanner hoped for. It wasn’t until he went to college that he found the answers he needed and “stopped fearing God’s retribution.”
Being gay wasn’t a sin. Not ever, but he “still wanted to know why Western culture believed it was for so long.”
Historically, many believe that older men were sexual “mentors” for teenage boys, but Tanner says that in ancient Greece and Rome, same-sex relationships were common between male partners of equal age and between differently-aged pairs, alike. Clarity comes by understanding relationships between husbands and wives then, and careful translation of the word “boy,” to show that age wasn’t a factor, but superiority and inferiority were.
In ancient Athens, queer love was considered to be “noble” but after the Persians sacked Athens, sex between men instead became an acceptable act of aggression aimed at conquered enemies. Raping a male prisoner was encouraged but, “Gay men became symbols of a depraved lack of self-control and abstinence.”
Later Greeks believed that men could turn into women “if they weren’t sufficiently virile.” Biblical interpretations point to more conflict; Leviticus specifically bans queer sex but “the Sumerians actively encouraged it.” The Egyptians hated it, but “there are sporadic clues that same-sex partners lived together in ancient Egypt.”
Says Tanner, “all is not what it seems.”
So you say you’re not really into ancient history. If it’s not your thing, then “The Queer Thing About Sin” won’t be, either.
Just know that if you skip this book, you’re missing out on the kind of excitement you get from reading mythology, but what’s here is true, and a much wider view than mere folklore. Author Harry Tanner invites readers to go deep inside philosophy, religion, and ancient culture, but the information he brings is not dry. No, there are major battles brought to life here, vanquished enemies and death – but also love, acceptance, even encouragement that the citizens of yore in many societies embraced and enjoyed. Tanner explains carefully how religious credo tied in with homosexuality (or didn’t) and he brings readers up to speed through recent times.
While this is not a breezy vacation read or a curl-up-with-a-blanket kind of book, “The Queer Thing About Sin” is absolutely worth spending time with. If you’re a thinking person and can give yourself a chance to ponder, you’ll like it very much.
Theater
‘Octet’ explores the depths of digital addiction
Habits not easily shaken in Studio Theatre chamber musical
‘Octet’
Through Feb. 26
Studio Theatre
1501 14th Street, N.W.
Tickets start at $55
Studiotheatre.org
David Malloy’s “Octet” delves deep into the depths of digital addiction.
Featuring a person ensemble, this extraordinary a capella chamber musical explores the lives of recovering internet addicts whose lives have been devastated by digital dependency; sharing what’s happened and how things have changed.
Dressed in casual street clothes, the “Friends of Saul” trickle into a church all-purpose room, check their cell phones in a basket, put away the bingo tables, and arrange folding chairs into a circle. Some may stop by a side table offering cookies, tea, and coffee before taking a seat.
The show opens with “The Forest,” a haunting hymn harking back to the good old days of an analog existence before glowing screens, incessant pings and texts.
“The forest was beautiful/ My head was clean and clear/Alone without fear/ The forest was safe/ I danced like a beautiful fool / One time some time.”
Mimicking an actual step meeting, there’s a preamble. And then the honest sharing begins, complete with accounts of sober time and slips.
Eager to share, Jessica (Chelsea Williams) painfully recalls being cancelled after the video of her public meltdown went viral. Henry (Angelo Harrington II) is a gay gamer with a Candy Crush problem. Toby (Adrian Joyce) a nihilist who needs to stay off the internet sings “So anyway/ I’m doing good/ Mostly/ Limiting my time/ Mostly.”
The group’s unseen founder Saul is absent, per usual.
In his stead Paula, a welcoming woman played with quiet compassion by Tracy Lynn Olivera, leads. She and her husband no longer connect. They bring screens to bed. In a love-lost ballad, she explains: “We don’t sleep well/ My husband I/ Our circadian rhythms corrupted/ By the sallow blue glow of a screen/ Sucking souls and melatonin/ All of my dreams have been stolen.”
After too much time spent arguing with strangers on the internet, Marvin, a brainy young father played by David Toshiro Crane, encounters the voice of a God.
Ed (Jimmy Kieffer) deals with a porn addiction. Karly (Ana Marcu) avoids dating apps, a compulsion compared to her mother’s addiction to slot machines.
Malloy, who not only wrote the music but also the smart lyrics, book, and inventive vocal arrangements, brilliantly joins isolation with live harmony. It’s really something.
And helmed by David Muse, “Octet” is a precisely, quietly, yet powerfully staged production, featuring a topnotch cast who (when not taking their moment in the spotlight) use their voices to make sounds and act as a sort of Greek chorus. Mostly on stage throughout all of the 100-minute one act, they demonstrate impressive stamina and concentration.
An immersive production, “Octet” invites audience members to feel a part of the meeting. Studio’s Shargai Theatre is configured, for the first, in the round. And like the characters, patrons must also unplug. Everyone is required to have their phones locked in a small pouch (that only ushers are able to open and close), so be prepared for a wee bit of separation anxiety.
At the end of the meeting, the group surrenders somnambulantly. They know they are powerless against internet addiction. But group newbie Velma (Amelia Aguilar) isn’t entirely convinced. She remembers the good tech times.
In a bittersweet moment, she shares of an online friendship with “a girl in Sainte Marie / Just like me.”
Habits aren’t easily shaken.
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