Arts & Entertainment
Artistic adjustments
Signature’s ‘Russia’ premiere plays loosey goosey with the Rasputin legend
‘Brother Russia’
Through April 15
Signature Theatre
4200 Campbell Avenue, Arlington
703-573-SEAT

Doug Kreeger, center, as Grigori in Signature’s ‘Brother Russia.’ Also seen from left are Stephen Gregory Smith, Erin Driscoll, Russell Sunday and Rachel Zampelli. (Photo by Scott Suchman; courtesy Signature)
Advanced word on Signature Theatre’s world premiere production of “Brother Russia” promised the story of Rasputin set to music. If you’re expecting a faithful retelling of the mad monk’s rise from backwater Serbian peasant to Russian Imperial Court favorite, don’t. The show’s creators — musical team Dana Rowe (music) and John Dempsey (book and lyrics) — have toyed widely with the facts and invented something entirely new.
Propelled by a hard-driving rock score, “Brother Russia” is a play within a play. The action begins with a ragtag troupe of sometime post-Glasnost Russian actors gathering to perform their next show. The itinerant company’s leader, Brother Russia (John Lescault), suggests they tell his story, the story of Rasputin. Of course, he couldn’t possibly be the real Rasputin — though old, he’s not nearly old enough, and besides Rasputin’s murdered corpse was dragged from the Neva River in 1916. Still, the actors press on. Parts are assigned, costumes donned and places taken.
Visibly seated throughout the musical in a big wooden wheelchair, wisecracking Brother Russia watches things unfold from the sidelines. Family tragedy prompts young Rasputin (a bearded Doug Kreeger) to embark on his quixotic journey (lucidly staged by Signature’s gay artistic director Eric Schaeffer). Along the way a horny witch (Rachel Zampelli) claims his soul. Whether it’s her magic, or Rasputin’s later apprenticeship with a pair of faith-healing hucksters (Kevin McAllister and Christopher Mueller) that primes him for the big time is unclear. Once in St. Petersburg, Rasputin vaults to in-house healer to the young, hemophilic Tsarevich and wins inordinate influence with the boy’s parents, Tsar Nicholas and Tsarina Alexandra. Not surprisingly, court insiders grow jealous, particularly Prince Felix Yusupov (gay in real life, and here played by Stephen Gregory Smith as a totally louche, glam rock queen strutting in impossibly high red heels), and trouble ensues.
But what would a musical be without a love story? “Brother Russia” defies history by portraying Rasputin and the Tsar’s youngest daughter, the fabled Anastasia (played by the talented and always excellent Natascia Diaz), as a love match. Of course this never happened. Anastasia was a small child when womanizing Rasputin arrived at court. Ordinarily, reshuffling history isn’t a big deal, but with this shows it proves a recurring distraction.
Still, there are things to like. Kreeger, who is gay, is fully committed to the role. He’s terrific and his vocals are gorgeous whether sung sweetly (“The Tsarevich’s Lullaby”) or powerfully (“I Serve No Man”). Other highlights include Amy McWilliams’ turn as the opium smoking (more artistic license), fabulous headdress-wearing Tsarina; and Tracy Lynn Olivera’s number, a bawdily delivered drinking song titled “Vodka.”
Misha Kachman’s impressive set is an expansive stage of rough planks beneath strings of colored lights. In the background are tattered curtains, a depilated caravan and a battered steamer trunk. Costume designer Kathleen Geldard imagines the troupe as sexy and punk expect for Brother Russia who’s dressed as an aging hippie activist in an army surplus coat dotted with political buttons, Birkenstocks and a Che Guevara T-shirt.
In the end, Brother Russia is called out on his historical inaccuracies by the company’s irate manager (Russell Sunday). Ah ha, so this is where everything will make sense, right? Unfortunately, what feels like a tacked-on explanation is unsatisfying. Evidently, this is Brother Russia’s reality, and his proof of the eternal power of theater and the Russian spirit … or something.
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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