Arts & Entertainment
Maps and memories
‘Planet’ production explores fear and isolation among gay men
‘Lonely Planet’
Through June 17
MetroStage
1201 N. Royal St., Alexandria
$45-$50 (military and student discounts available)
703-548-9044

Michael Russotto, left, and Eric Sutton in ‘Lonely Planet’ by playwright Steven Dietz. (Photo by Christopher Banks; courtesy MetroStage)
Tucked away inside his tidy map shop, Jody does his best to keep the uncertainties of the turbulent outside world at bay. But his is an unwinnable strategy. Sooner or later, he must confront what terrifies him most.
In Steven Dietz’s 1994 play “Lonely Planet” — currently playing at MetroStage in Alexandria — the playwright describes a plague that’s affecting men in an American city, and though he doesn’t refer to the disease by name, it’s never for a moment in doubt that the culprit is AIDS. Inspired by maps and Ionesco’s absurdist play “The Chairs,” Dietz explores death and friendship during the most harrowing time of the crisis.
The action is restricted to one space: a small, carefully appointed shop. Here, gay middle-aged Jody (Michael Russotto) has constructed an orderly sanctuary where he deals exclusively with the exactness of latitude and longitude, a place where sales are occasionally referred to, but customers are never seen. We do, however, see Carl (Eric Sutton), a gay younger friend who frequently visits bearing irony and chairs (ladder back, rocker, Windsor) which he persuades Jody to store for him because his apartment is too small. After spinning a tale or two and delivering a pep talk on getting out and about, Carl dashes off to one of his invented jobs (tabloid reporter, art conservator, auto glazier) only to return minutes later with more chairs and chatter.
Soon we learn that Carl’s ever-increasing hoard of chairs once belonged to his and Jody’s friends who have died in the frighteningly lethal epidemic. Carl keeps one chair belonging to each victim as a remembrance. It’s also revealed that Carl’s true employment involves clearing out the homes of these recently deceased friends. And those made-up jobs? They also belonged to the dearly departed.
After intermission, the stage is lit to reveal even more chairs (straw bottomed, barber, Breuer). The image gets a chuckle from the audience, but they’re a terrifying reminder to Jody of death, disease and the uncertainty of his HIV status (Jody has yet to be tested). His fear is palpable. It’s up to Carl to coax Jody to venture beyond the store.
Set designer Jane Fink has imagined a shop filled with globes and scrolled maps. Its heavy dark furniture and transom door feel entirely resistant to time. The stage is backed by a wall of collaged maps. At the top of a simple proscenium is the earth as photographed from outer space. By the show’s end, dozens of chairs are piled on the stage, creating a tall and odd monument. Sounds questionable, but it proves exceedingly poignant.
As Jody and Carl, Russotto and Sutton, respectively (both actors are gay), are believable as longtime, caring friends and each do their best to elevate sometimes plodding monologues. Russotto’s performance is deceptive — it’s quiet but packs an emotional wallop. And Sutton is delightful as the vexing, leather vest-wearing Carl whose sarcasm can belie his good heartedness.
Despite the sad subject matter, much of “Lonely Planet” is playful and fun. And while the allegorical and symbolic aspects of the show can get a little heavy handed, skilled director John Vreeke (also gay) guides the actors in creating some glowing, touching moments. And Vreeke (with the help of lighting designer Jessica Lee Winfield) stages the unexpected and very memorable ending just right.
At a recent performance, the audience was comprised mostly of midshipmen from the Naval Academy’s drama group, the Masqueraders. It struck others present that these young men and women were toddlers when the play was penned almost 20 years ago. Through “Lonely Planet,” they traveled to a time when testing positive was a death sentence, but they were also shown a glimpse of the gay community at its very best and the enduring value of friendship.
Celebrity News
Silky Nutmeg Ganache talks sex and dating, gender, politics, weight loss journey
‘RuPaul’s Drag Race All Stars’ semifinalist grew up in Bible Belt
Uncloseted Media published this interview on July 7.
By SPENCER MACNAUGHTON, ISABEL STOKES, and BELLA SAYEGH | After appearing on the 11th season of “RuPaul’s Drag Race,” the first season of “Canada’s Drag Race: Canada vs. the World,” the sixth season of “RuPaul’s All Stars” and now the 11th season of “All Stars,” Silky Nutmeg Ganache, known by many as the Reverend, is undoubtedly a legend.
Born and raised in Moss Point, Miss., Ganache bears all in this episode of “UNCLOSETED with Spencer Macnaughton.” She speaks about her relationship with gender, her 100-pound weight loss, what it’s like living as a queer person of color in a red state and why she’s calling on allies to stand up for the trans community.
Patrons enjoyed a night out at the popular LGBTQ venue Crush Dance Bar on Friday, July 3.
(Washington Blade photos by Landon Shackelford)













Theater
‘My Favorite Sociopath’ debuts at Shepherdstown’s CATF
Gay playwright Aurin Squire’s take on D.C. journalism in the ‘90s
‘My Favorite Sociopath’
Contemporary American Theater Festival
July 10-Aug. 2
Shepherdstown, W.Va.
Catf.org
Discernment. It’s a thing some people have, explains playwright Aurin Squire, especially when you’re gay or Black in America (Squire is both).
“You instinctively know when the mob is teaming up for the best interests of the powers that be. You can feel it in the air.”
In his sharp new satire “My Favorite Sociopath,” Squire writes about life experiences but set in a different time and place: It’s the 1990s, early days of the 24-hour news cycle, and three ambitious journalism students are pursuing success in D.C.
And now, Squire’s play, along with other new works, are making their world premieres at the annual Contemporary American Theater Festival (CATF) at Shepherd University in historic, queer-friendly Shepherdstown, W.Va. (just a 90-minute drive from D.C.).
“All of my plays are queer in some way,” says Squire, 46. “This one touches on harmless and dangerous lies. The characters are on the spectrum sexually, and it’s interesting how all that falls out.”
And he’s given it a lot of thought.
“Already as a kid, it seemed to me that the rage against rap music and sex was coming from closeted people resisting their own urges and temptations. For me, it was interesting to see a witch hunt led by witches. Queer people can always call out a lie.”
Since September, Squire has also been working with a TV show about the tech industry set in Silicon Valley. He says, “It seems the general flow of the tech industry is that humanity and civilization is finished and it’s just about accumulating as many goods as possible before everything collapses. In fact, those who are profiting actually agree. But for those who disagree, they believe the solution is to build bigger gates, but activists believe we can stop this”
Yet, he’s learned from folks associated with the show. “Many say the quickest way to divorce yourself from any responsibility or regulations — smash and grab. Otherwise, you have to stop and think and regulate your desires for greed and power”
Squire possesses a penchant for pithy titles. He laughs, explaining the first thing he wrote as a student at Juilliard was “Obama-ology,” the comedy with contemporary message. While a lot of people liked the name, it didn’t necessarily vibe with the author. He concedes that he chooses names based on “easy to remember” and titles that won’t be easy to lose as a file.
Another is “Defacing Michael Jackson,” a coming-of-age dramedy set in rural Florida in 1984, specifically Squire’s native town Opa-locka, Miami, a fantastical place famed for its fanciful Moorish revival architecture.
Living in the shadow of exotic structures, he wasn’t particularly fazed. Squire says “It wasn’t until returning to visit after my freshman year at Northwestern University in Chicago that I realized how weird it was: When you grow up in a place, you take surroundings for granted no matter how over the top.”
Now based in New York (where for two happy years, 2017-2019, he shared digs with drag king Murry Hill), Squire returns frequently to Miami to be with family, but this summer has been filled with both work and travel.
Currently, he’s in Shepherdstown with CATF shaping up “My Favorite Sociopath.” Later this summer he will travel to South Africa for research, followed by a silent writing retreat in Santa Fe, N.M.
Much of Squire’s work reflects the Latino, African, Caribbean, African-American, and Jewish cultures he grew up around in South Florida.
When asked if today’s winds of anti-multiculturalism worry him, he replies, “No, because that’s going to pass. Most people don’t like, people are seeing the negative results of it, and the young people coming up despise it. White male gamers were tricked momentarily through the algorithms into voting against their own interests and they’re now seeing how it’s not working out for them.
“Conservatives always try to stop progress and eventually they always lose. It’s just a question of where we’ll be in the middle of the end of civilization before that happens. I’d like to hope we can turn the ship around before then.”
In addition to “My Favorite Sociopath,” CATF summer season features three other world premieres (Lisa D’Amour’s comedy “The Smoker,” “Refugee Rhapsody” by Yussef El Guindi, “Best Line Wins: A Play Inspired by the Improvised Lives of Elaine May & Mike Nichols” by Beth Kander) and “¡VOS!” by Christina Pumariega.
CATF runs from July 10-Aug. 2 in three venues on the Shepherd University campus: Frank Center, Marinoff Theater, and Studio 112.
