Theater
Director Alan Paul enjoying frothy romp ‘The Comedy of Errors’
Theater bug bit Michael Kahn protege at young age

Alan Paul says a ‘60s Greek aesthetic has informed much of his work. (Photo courtesy STC)
‘The Comedy of Errors’
Through Oct. 28
Shakespeare Theatre Company
at Lansburgh Theatre
450 7th St., N.W.
$44-118
Director Alan Paul came out at just 15. He was the last of his group at performing arts camp to come clean on his sexuality. The rest had all come out at about 12, he says. Paul felt quite left behind. Certainly he’s never been behind professionally.
At 25, Paul was named Shakespeare Theatre Company associate artistic director under the auspices of legendary STC Artistic Director Michael Kahn. Now 34, Paul boasts an impressive CV crammed with work on classics, opera and musicals. He’s been nominated for several Helen Hayes Awards for directing and won for STC’s “A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum.” His more recent production of “Camelot” has broken STC box office records.
Growing up in nearby Potomac, Md., Paul made frequent trips to New York to see Broadway musicals. He loved “Sunset Boulevard” with Glenn Close as Norma Desmond but was verily obsessed with the London cast recording featuring Patti LuPone as the reclusive silent film star. From an early age, Paul longed to be a part of the theater world and struck up correspondences with many Broadway professionals. After graduating from Northwestern University where he was in the musical theater program, Paul returned to his hometown to pursue a career in earnest. He splits his time between Washington and New York where he’s often called to meet with designers and audition actors.
Currently, Paul is staging STC’s production of Shakespeare’s early work “The Comedy of Errors,” a farce jam-packed with slapstick and mistaken identity revolving around two sets of identical twins. A twin himself, Paul felt instantly at home with the work’s situations and possibilities.
Recently he took a break from tech week to talk about his latest directorial effort and other things.
WASHINGTON BLADE: I read that you wanted to plumb the work for its romantic and elegant elements. True?
ALAN PAUL: Those were early words. When you see the fart jokes you won’t think elegance. It’s a difficult play because it has to be funny but it also has to be about real people. The characters are searching for lost loved ones. The premise is deep. The comedy of it is what happens in the course of this crazy 24 hours. But there is elegance in the physical production. I wanted a mostly black-and-white set and costumes. I’m inspired by films from the early ‘60s like the Greek romantic comedy “Never on a Sunday” starring Melina Mercouri.
BLADE: Is it wrong to associate you primarily with musicals?
PAUL: I’ve directed many plays but musicals have been the most visible thing I’ve done. I love both. It’s fun to jump back and forth. In addition to Michael (Kahn), my heroes include Jack O’Brien. He directed “Hairspray” and “Henry IV” on Broadway in the same year. And Michael Blakemore who on the same night won Tony Awards for directing a play and a musical, “Copenhagen” and a revival of “Kiss Me, Kate,” respectively. People mistakenly think a director of musicals can’t be serious or real. Or a play director can’t be fun. I try really hard to play both sides of that. For “The Comedy of Errors,” we’re including some original music. It’s about creating that ‘60s Greek feeling. Also, the cast includes Eleasha Gamble who plays the courtesan and owner of the Porcupine Club. How could I not give her a song?
BLADE: You’re a twin. Has that been your way into “The Comedy of Errors”?
PAUL: Yes, I have a twin sister. For me, I understand the bond with my sister. The bond is different from what I have with anyone else. We share a sense of humor. If you looked at our text messages you’d have no idea what it means but we think it’s hilarious. Twins figure into so many of Shakespeare’s plays. I think Shakespeare had twins and one of them died. This play, and “Twelfth Night” especially, is about needing to find your other half. Shakespeare had a fantasy of family coming back together that never happened. I believe it comes from an extraordinary sense of loss.
BLADE: How did you go about casting twins?
PAUL: I’ve cast two sets of twins who look nothing alike. Put the same hat on them and who cares? We get it.
BLADE: Tell me about how Michael Kahn hired you.
PAUL: It was over drinks at Playbill Café. I miss that place so much. Not a big deal for him, but life changing for me.
BLADE: This is Michael Kahn’s last season at STC. What has he taught you?
PAUL: He pushed me very hard when I was very young to run the department. He gave me a lot of responsibility and expected me to know what I was doing. I figured out how to do it and I think that he gave me a lot of confidence early on. Also, I will take away his incredibly high standards. He won’t let anything go that does meet a certain standard. And I have that myself. An internal GPS that says “not good enough.”
BLADE: Will you work under Kahn’s appointed successor, Simon Godwin?
PAUL: That’s an ongoing conversation. I like him and am excited to see what he’ll do.
BLADE: Was directing The Comedy of Errors your choice?
PAUL: STC wasn’t doing a musical this season so I knew I’d do a play. I really wanted to do Shakespeare so Michael and I talked about a lot of different titles. Comedies to dramas. We hadn’t done this one in a long time. I thought it was a great way to open the season and I wanted to assemble a group of funny people that the audience would know. It’s always fun to have artists on stage together who have contributed to the success of STC. People like Tom Story, Nancy Robinette, Ted van Griethuysen, Sarah Marshall.
BLADE: And don’t forget Veanne Cox as Adriana.
PAUL: Yes, wait until you see her arguing with a parrot. She has a pet bird that talks to her.
BLADE: Last season you broke Shakespeare Theatre Company sales record with your production of “Camelot.” How do you explain that?
PAUL: The election. I’d been uncertain about doing “Camelot.” People love the music but not so much the book. But when Hillary Clinton lost the election, I couldn’t help but wonder what Obama was thinking about his legacy. That’s what King Arthur goes through at the end of the play. When the Round table is cracked he says that barbarism is the natural state of man. Then at the end of the scene he meets the kid and his spirit is revived. I thought that’s the story Washington needed to hear. And I was right.
BLADE: There are so many shows opening right about now. Why see “The Comedy of Errors”?
PAUL: Well, it’s short — 95 action-packed minutes. Nobody wants to see a really long play. With this production, you’re out in time to get drinks or supper. Also, it’s funny. In these times of the stressful news cycle, I want to give people some entertainment and joy.
BLADE: Tell me about your childhood letter writing.
PAUL: Yes, I have a whole book of correspondence, about one hundred letters. I started writing letter c/o the stage door when I was a kid. I wrote stage managers, a dance captain and actors like George Hearn. I have letters from Audra McDonald before she was famous. Bob Mackie wrote me. I wanted to know how things worked.
BLADE: How does being gay figure into your work?
PAUL: Freedom to have fun with sexuality. Someone in the show accused me of trying to make this into a John Waters’ movie. I said that’s a good thing. There’s lots of drag. Sarah Marshall plays a man, Dr. Pinch. Three men double as female characters.
BLADE Any directorial projects you’re itching to tackle?
PAUL Yes, two musical and a play. In keeping with my Greek ‘60s film thing, I’d like to do the musical “Zorba.” And another is “Golden Boy,” the musical based the Clifford Odets play about a young man from Harlem who pursues prizefighting despite his family’s objections. It needs a little doctoring, but I think that would make a wonderful Broadway revival. And the play is “Teenage Dick.” It’s got a provocative title but it’s actually a version of Shakespeare’s “Richard III” set in an American high school. It played at the Public Theater in New York this summer. Please someone in Washington let me do this. It will be a huge hit in this town, I’m certain.

The cast of ‘The Comedy of Errors,’ a brisk farce now on the boards at Shakespeare Theatre Co. (Photo by Scott Suchman; courtesy STC)
Theater
Out actor Kevin Cahoon on starring role in ‘Chez Joey’
Arena production adapted from Broadway classic ‘Pal Joey’
‘Chez Joey’
Through March 15
Arena Stage
1101 Sixth St., S.W.
Tickets start at $93
Arenastage.org
As Melvin Snyder in the new musical “Chez Joey,” out actor Kevin Cahoon plays a showbiz society columnist who goes by the name Mrs. Knickerbocker. He functions as a sort of liaison between café society and Chicago’s Black jazz scene circa 1940s. It’s a fun part replete with varied insights, music, and dance.
“Chez Joey” is adapted from the Broadway classic “Pal Joey” by Richard Rodgers and Lorenz Hart. It’s inspired by John O’Hara’s stories based on the exploits of a small-time nightclub singer published in The New Yorker.
A warm and humorous man, Cahoon loves his work. At just six, he began his career as a rodeo clown in Houston. He won the Star Search teen division at 13 singing songs like “Some People” from “Gypsy.” He studied theater at New York University and soon after graduating set to work playing sidekicks and comedic roles.
Over the years, Cahoon has played numerous queer parts in stage productions including “Hedwig and the Angry Inch,” “La Cage aux Folles,” “Rocky Horror” as well as Peanut in “Shucked,” and George the keyboardist in “The Wedding Singer,” “a sort of unicorn of its time,” says Cahoon.
Co-directed by Tony Goldwyn and the great Savion Glover, “Chez Joey” is a terrific and fun show filled with loads of talent. Its relevant new book is by Richard Lagravenese.
On a recent Monday off from work, Cahoon shared some thoughts on past and current happenings.
WASHINGTON BLADE: Is there a through line from Kevin, the six-year-old rodeo clown, to who we see now at Arena Stage?
KEVIN CAHOON: Anytime I want to land a joke in a theater piece it goes back to that rodeo clown. It doesn’t matter if it’s Arena’s intimate Kreeger Theatre or the big rodeo at the huge Houston Astrodome.
I was in the middle stadium and there was an announcer — a scene partner really. And we were doing a back and forth in hopes of getting laughs. At that young age I was trying to understand what it takes to get laughs. It’s all about timing. Every line.
BLADE: Originally, your part in “Chez Joey” Melvin was Melba who sings “Zip,” a clever woman reporter’s song. It was sort of a star feature, where they could just pop in a star in the run of “Pal Joey.”
CAHOON: That’s right. And in former versions it was played by Martha Plimpton and before her Elaine Stritch. For “Chez Joey,” we switched gender and storyline.
We attempted to do “Zip” up until two days before we had an audience at Arena. Unexpectedly they cut “Zip” and replaced it with a fun number called “I Like to Recognize the Tune,” a song more connected to the story.
BLADE: Wow. You must be a quick study.
CAHOON: Well, we’re working with a great band.
BLADE: You’ve played a lot of queer parts. Any thoughts on queer representation?
CAHOON: Oh yes, definitely. And I’ve been very lucky that I’ve had the chance to portray these characters and introduce them to the rest of the world. I feel honored.
After originating Edna, the hyena on Broadway in “The Lion King,” I left that to do “Hedwig and the Angry Inch” as standby for John Cameron Mitchell, doing one show a week for him.
Everyone thought I was crazy to leave the biggest musical of our time with a personal contract and getting paid more money that I’d ever made to get $400 a week at the downtown Jane Street Theatre in a dicey neighborhood.
At the time, I really felt like I was with cool kids. I guess I was. And I never regretted it.
BLADE: When you play new parts, do you create new backstories for the role?
CAHOON: Every single time! For Melvin, I suggested a line about chorus boys on Lakeshore Drive.
BLADE: What’s up next for Kevin Cahoon?
CAHOON: I’m about to do the New York Theatre Workshop Gala; I’ve been doing it for nine years in a row. It’s a huge job. I’ll also be producing the “Cats: The Jellicle Ball” opening on Broadway this spring; it’s a queer-centric uptown vogue ball with gay actor André de Shields reprising his role as “Old Deuteronomy.”
BLADE: There’s a huge amount of talent onstage in “Chez Joey.”
CAHOON: There is. I’m sharing a dressing room with Myles Frost who plays Joey. He won accolades for playing Michael Jackson on Broadway. We’ve become great friends. He’s a miracle to watch on stage. And Awa [Sal Secka], a D.C. local, is great. Every night the audience falls head over heels for her. When this show goes to New York, Awa will, no doubt, be a giant star.
BLADE: Do you think “Chez Joey” might be Broadway bound?
CAHOON: I have a good feeling it is. I’ve done shows out of town that have high hopes and pedigree, but don’t necessarily make it. “Chez Joey” is a small production, it’s funny, and audiences seem to love it.
Theater
José Zayas brings ‘The House of Bernarda Alba’ to GALA Hispanic Theatre
Gay Spanish playwright Federico García Lorca wrote masterpiece before 1936 execution
‘The House of Bernarda Alba’
Through March 1
GALA Hispanic Theatre
3333 14th St., N.W.
$27-$52
Galatheatre.org
In Federico García Lorca’s “The House of Bernarda Alba,” now at GALA Hispanic Theatre in Columbia Heights, an impossibly oppressive domestic situation serves, in short, as an allegory for the repressive, patriarchal, and fascist atmosphere of 1930s Spain
The gay playwright completed his final and arguably best work in 1936, just months before he was executed by a right-wing firing squad. “Bernarda Alba” is set in the same year, sometime during a hot summer in rural Andalusia, the heart of “España profunda” (the deep Spain), where traditions are deeply rooted and mores seldom challenged.
At Bernarda’s house, the atmosphere, already stifling, is about to get worse.
On the day of her second husband’s funeral, Bernarda Alba (superbly played by Luz Nicolás), a sixtyish woman accustomed to calling the shots, gathers her five unmarried daughters (ages ranging from 20 to 39) and matter-of-factly explain what’s to happen next.
She says, “Through the eight years of mourning not a breeze shall enter this house. Consider the doors and windows as sealed with bricks. That’s how it was in my father’s house and my grandfather’s. Meanwhile, you can embroider your trousseaux.”
It’s not an altogether sunny plan. While Angustias (María del Mar Rodríguez), Bernarda’s daughter from her first marriage and heiress to a fortune, is betrothed to a much younger catch, Pepe el Romano, who never appears on stage, the remaining four stand little chance of finding suitable matches. Not only are they dowry-less, but no men, eligible or otherwise, are admitted into their mother’s house.
Lorca is a literary hero known for his mastery of both lyrical poetry and visceral drama; still, “Bernarda Alba’s” plotline might suit a telenovela. Despotic mother heads a house of adult daughters. Said daughters are churning with passions and jealousies. When sneaky Martirio (Giselle Gonzáles) steals the photo of Angustias’s fiancé all heck kicks off. Lots of infighting and high drama ensue. There’s even a batty grandmother (Alicia Kaplan) in the wings for bleak comic relief.
At GALA, the modern classic is lovingly staged by José Zayas. The New York-based out director has assembled a committed cast and creative team who’ve manifested an extraordinarily timely 90-minute production performed in Spanish with English subtitles easily ready seen on multiple screens.
In Lorca’s stage directions, he describes the set as an inner room in Bernarda’s house; it’s bright white with thick walls. At GALA, scenic designer Grisele Gonzáles continues the one-color theme with bright red walls and floor and closed doors. There are no props.
In the airless room, women sit on straight back chairs sewing. They think of men, still. Two are fixated on their oldest siter’s hunky betrothed. Only Magdelena (Anna Malavé), the one sister who truly mourns their dead father, has given up on marriage entirely.
The severity of the place is alleviated by men’s distant voices, Koki Lortkipanidze’s original music, movement (stir crazy sisters scratching walls), and even a precisely executed beatdown choreographed by Lorraine Ressegger-Slone.
In a short yet telling scene, Bernarda’s youngest daughter Adela (María Coral) proves she will serve as the rebellion to Bernarda’s dictatorship. Reluctant to mourn, Adela admires her reflection. She has traded her black togs for a seafoam green party dress. It’s a dreamily lit moment (compliments of lighting designer Hailey Laroe.)
But there’s no mistaking who’s in charge. Dressed in unflattering widow weeds, her face locked in a disapproving sneer, Bernarda rules with an iron fist; and despite ramrod posture, she uses a cane (though mostly as a weapon during one of her frequent rages.)
Bernarda’s countenance softens only when sharing a bit of gossip with Poncia, her longtime servant convincingly played by Evelyn Rosario Vega.
Nicolás has appeared in “Bernarda Alba” before, first as daughter Martirio in Madrid, and recently as the mother in an English language production at Carnegie Melon University in Pittsburgh. And now in D.C. where her Bernarda is dictatorial, prone to violence, and scarily pro-patriarchy.
Words and phrases echo throughout Lorca’s play, all likely to signal a tightening oppression: “mourning,” “my house,” “honor,” and finally “silence.”
As a queer artist sympathetic to left wing causes, Lorca knew of what he wrote. He understood the provinces, the dangers of tyranny, and the dimming of democracy. Early in Spain’s Civil War, Lorca was dragged to the the woods and murdered by Franco’s thugs. Presumably buried in a mass grave, his remains have never been found.
Theater
Magic is happening for Round House’s out stage manager
Carrie Edick talks long hours, intricacies of ‘Nothing Up My Sleeve’
‘Nothing Up My Sleeve’
Through March 15
Round House Theatre
4545 East-West Highway
Bethesda, Md. 20814
Tickets start at $50
Roundhousetheatre.org
Magic is happening for out stage manager Carrie Edick.
Working on Round House Theatre’s production of “Nothing Up My Sleeve,” Edick quickly learned the ways of magicians, their tricks, and all about the code of honor among those who are privy to their secrets.
The trick-filled, one-man show starring master illusionist Dendy and staged by celebrated director Aaron Posner, is part exciting magic act and part deeply personal journey. The new work promises “captivating storytelling, audience interaction, jaw-dropping tricks, and mind-bending surprises.”
Early in rehearsals, there was talk of signing a non-disclosure agreement (NDA) for production assistants. It didn’t happen, and it wasn’t necessary, explains Edick, 26. “By not having an NDA, Dendy shows a lot of trust in us, and that makes me want to keep the secrets even more.
“Magic is Dendy’s livelihood. He’s sharing a lot and trusting a lot; in return we do the best we can to support him and a large part of that includes keeping his secrets.”
As a production assistant (think assistant stage manager), Edick strives to make things move as smoothly as possible. While she acknowledges perfection is impossible and theater is about storytelling, her pursuit of exactness involves countless checklists and triple checks, again and again. Six day weeks and long hours are common. Stage managers are the first to arrive and last to leave.
This season has been a lot about learning, adds Edick. With “The Inheritance” at Round House (a 22-week long contract), she learned how to do a show in rep which meant changing from Part One to Part Two very quickly; “In Clay” at Signature Theatre introduced her to pottery; and now with “Nothing Up My Sleeve,” she’s undergoing a crash course in magic.
She compares her career to a never-ending education: “Stage managers possess a broad skillset and that makes us that much more malleable and ready to attack the next project. With some productions it hurts my heart a little bit to let it go, but usually I’m ready for something new.”
For Edick, theater is community. (Growing up in Maryland, she was a shy kid whose parents signed her up for theater classes.) Now that community is the DMV theater scene and she considers Round House her artistic home. It’s where she works in different capacities, and it’s the venue in which she and actor/playwright Olivia Luzquinos chose to be married in 2024.
Edick came out in middle school around the time of her bat mitzvah. It’s also around the same time she began stage managing. Throughout high school she was the resident stage manager for student productions, and also successfully participated in county and statewide stage management competitions which led to a scholarship at the University of Maryland, Baltimore County (UMBC) where she focused on technical theater studies.
Edick has always been clear about what she wants. At an early age she mapped out a theater trajectory. Her first professional gig was “Tuesdays with Morrie” at Theatre J in 2021. She’s worked consistently ever since.
Stage managing pays the bills but her resume also includes directing and intimacy choreography (a creative and technical process for creating physical and emotional intimacy on stage). She names Pulitzer Prize winning lesbian playwright Paula Vogel among her favorite artists, and places intimacy choreographing Vogel’s “How I learned to Drive” high on the artistic bucket list.
“To me that play is heightened art that has to do with a lot of triggering content that can be made very beautiful while being built to make you feel uncomfortable; it’s what I love about theater.”
For now, “Nothing Up My Sleeve” keeps Edick more than busy: “For one magic trick, we have to set up 100 needles.”
Ultimately, she says “For stage managers, the show should stay the same each night. What changes are audiences and the energy they bring.”
