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BLADE 50: D.C. theater’s ‘great queer way’

From legends to locals on the side hustle, Blade’s theater coverage spotlights wide range of talent

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dc gay theater, gay news, Washington Blade
Long-time Blade theater critic Patrick Folliard (right) with Blade Features Editor Joey DiGuglelmo at the former Blade offices in the Press Club building in 2007. Folliard started freelancing for the Blade with an interview with filmmaker Todd Haynes in 1990. He wrote on various arts topics for the paper through the ‘90s and ‘00s and started focusing more on theater around 2004 when he reviewed Studio’s ‘Fly Away.’ (Blade file photo)

Theater is a wondrous beat – challenging, layered and entertaining. 

The beauty of the beat extends beyond what’s playing. It’s a glimpse into the human experience and a reflection of our times. And seeing the LGBTQ faction of Washington-area theater become increasingly visible on and off stage, makes it even more gratifying.  

As reviewer and interviewer, I’ve seen work ranging from not good to heartrendingly beautiful, regardless of being seated comfortably in a state-of-the-art auditorium or on wobbly chairs in unheated back rooms. I’ve spoken with big stars in upmarket restaurants and well-appointed green rooms, but more often it’s been with hardworking, less-celebrated theater professionals via phone during a rehearsal break or a stolen moment at a day job.

What those profiled typically have in common is a willingness to share their passion and push their latest project. But not all — a famous New York director replying monosyllabically to thoughtful questions comes to mind. 

Anyone familiar with the D.C.-area theater scene has been inspired by its smaller operations. Challenged with soaring rents and other costs, past and present companies like Rorschach, Factory 449: Ganymede Arts (originally known as Actor’s Theatre of Washington) MetroStage, WSC Avant Bard (formerly Washington Shakespeare Company), American Century Theater, Rainbow Theatre Project, Taffety Punk, Spooky Action Theater, Theater Alliance, etc., have all produced good work.  

The big theaters inspire too. During those heady, venue-expanding boom days of the 2000s, out artistic directors raised many millions and led the way. Michael Kahn added size and possibilities to the Shakespeare Theatre Company with the glorious Harman Center for the Arts. On the waterfront, Molly Smith worked magic in creating Arena Stage at the Mead Center for American Theater. Signature Theatre’s Eric Schaeffer moved his company from a repurposed garage to a dramatic new two-theater situation at Arlington’s Village at Shirlington.

Happily, the beat collides with divas. 

Ten minutes into an interview in a quiet lounge at the Kennedy Center, Eartha Kitt dropped her imperious demeanor and said, “You’ve passed my test.” Without further explanation, she spoke candidly about a hard but exciting life. 

A lively Elizabeth Ashley in town to play the titular character in the Shakespeare Theatre Company’s production of Shaw’s “Mrs. Warren’s Profession” asked if I moonlighted with the health department. Not waiting for a reply, she lit up and chain smoked for an hour while explaining the importance of hard work and loyalty in the theater. 

 A few hours before climbing on stage as Lady Bracknell at the Lansburgh, the great Siân Phillips slid into a cramped basement office wearing full stage makeup, a blood red kimono and matching turban. She prefaced her best anecdotes with, “this is off the record.”

Interviews with some of the great out men of theater include a tête-à-tête in a Watergate kitchen with Broadway’s perky composer Jerry Herman before he greeted his eager, Champagne-sipping public assembled in the other room; a long and lovely talk with playwright Terrence McNally, one of the nicest and more forthright men in the theater; and an exhilarating, masterclass-like conversation with actor Andre De Shields who pointed out August Wilson’s exclusion of queer characters from District Hill, the black Pittsburgh neighborhood where many of his plays are set. De Shields said, “Trust me, we were there.” 

It’s been exciting to witness the enduring careers of out folks who are willing to share (and re-share) their stories with the Blade, including (among numerous others) actors Sarah Marshall, Michael Russotto and Will Gartshore; director Serge Seiden (Mosaic Theater Company); and the exquisitely talented costume designer Robert Perdziola.  

Equally compelling are the newer careers and stories of trans actors Dezi Bing and Dane Figueroa Edidi, out actors Justin Weaks and Jade Jones, and nonbinary actors Avi Roque and Moriamo Temidayo Akibu, and myriad others. 

The Kennedy Center has proffered unforgettable fare for review with Cate Blanchett playing Blanche in “A Streetcar Named Desire,” Kathleen Turner’s genius turn as Martha in “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?” and the “Loveland” sequence with Bernadette Peters backed by a bank of roses in a revival of Sondheim’s “Follies,” stunningly staged by Eric Schaeffer. 

Looking back, productions continue to resonate for a million, sometimes inexplicable, reasons. Among the many, there’s Molly Smith’s alive and diverse “Oklahoma!” at Arena; Olney Theatre’s unique and sexy football play “Colossal,” staged by trans director Will Davis; out director Matthew Gardiner’s terrific, exceptionally cohesive “West Side Story” at Signature; and Forum Theatre’s beautiful rendering of out playwright Steve Yockey’s “Blackberry Winter,” a moving dramedy about Alzheimer’s disease and caretaking performed brilliantly by out actor Holly Twyford. 

It’s been a thrill and an education. 

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Theater

A trip ‘through media, memory to examine cultural imperialism’

Ashil Lee on Woolly’s ‘Akira Kurosawa Explains His Movies and Yogurt’

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Ashil Lee as Kurosawa in ‘Akira Kurosawa Explains His
Movies and Yogurt (with live and active cultures!)’ (Photo courtesy Gisela Estrada Photography)

‘Akira Kurosawa Explains His Movies and Yogurt (with live & active cultures!)’
Through June 1
Woolly Mammoth Theatre Company
641 D St., N.W.
Tickets start at $55
Woollymammoth.net

New York City-based artist Ashil Lee, 31, acts and directs. When you enter their name in a search engine, you’re first likely to find “Korean American trans nonbinary child of immigrants.”

Currently they’re playing in Woolly Mammoth Theatre’s world premiere production of Julia Izumi’s “Akira Kurosawa Explains His Movies and Yogurt (with live & active cultures!),” a trip “through media and memory to examine cultural imperialism, ‘healthy’ consumption, and why we make art.”

The play isn’t exactly a biopic of innovative Japanese filmmaker Kurosawa (1910-1998), says Lee.  

“It’s more of a jumping off point for our own emotional journeys, which is parallel to how he’s inspired other filmmakers,” they continue. “While you may not have seen his ground-breaking samurai films, you’ve undoubtedly seen lots of movies and TV directly inspired by his work.” 

Recently, I called Lee at their temporary Woolly-provided Penn Quarter digs just a block from the theater. Smart and warmly engaging, they were enthusiastic to share what brings them to D.C. 

WASHINGTON BLADE: How did you find your way into this interestingly titled play?

ASHIL LEE: My part, Actor Two, was originally written for a female actor. When playwright and cast member Julia [Izumi] asked me if I was open to auditioning for the role, I agreed and subsequently booked the part. 

Julia and I know each other from working in New York [“The Nosebleed” at The Lincoln Center Theatre] where she was associate director and an understudy, and I was an actor. She learned the part, but never went on stage, so our experience was limited to the rehearsal room 

Now I get to act with Julia with people watching.

BLADE: Actor Two sounds pretty wide open. 

LEE: And that’s what so great about it. A name like Actor Two that means you’re going to play a lot of different roles which is true in this case. More specifically, I play Stage Hand, myself, and an older version of Kurosawa. 

BLADE: You play the iconic filmmaker’s filmmaker? 

LEE: All of the cast play Kurosawa at different stages in his life. Similar to varied cultural strains of yogurt, we call them the different strains of Kurosawa.

The play includes other characters too: Heigo, Kurosawa’s older brother and childhood influence: and a famous fetishizer who proves a problematic guest, someone we love to hate.

BLADE: Are you a Kurosawa fan? 

LEE: Actually, I’ve never seen a Kurosawa film. And since one of my characters hasn’t seen any of his work either, I thought I’d hold off seeing any. This is a play that’s equally appealing to both those who know a lot about Kurasawa and those who’ve never heard of him. 

BLADE: Changing gears. Were your parents disappointed that you didn’t take a conventional career path?

LEE: I’m fortunate that my mother is an artist. She has seen the value of artistry and has encouraged me to go into the arts. To some extent, I think she lives vicariously through the way I do art as a job. Still, my parents haven’t entirely shaken that immigrant success driven mentality. They believe “you can be an artist but you have to be the best.” Whatever the best means. 

BLADE: And how are they with your gender? 

LEE: My parents know that I’m nonbinary and they’ve been understanding, however I haven’t talked much about the transmasc part of it; I’m letting them take their time on that. 

BLADE: As a kid in Lafayette, Kentucky, you played bugs (Glow-Worm, Cricket, and Charlotte). What do you like playing now? 

 LEE: I especially like parts where you play yourself and get to put on different characters. If I could only be in that kind of play for the rest of my life, I’d be more than satisfied. That’s my jam.

As a trans performer it’s such a gift. I’m able to show up completely as myself and then step into different characters without quieting myself. It feels like a gift. I think about it in relation to my gender but also my race. 

BLADE: You’re current gig in a sentence?

LEE: It’s awonderful mishmash, a theatrical playground that takes you to a lot of different places in a short amount of time and leaves you thinking about your own life. 

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Theatre Prometheus spreads queer joy with ‘Galatea’

Two girls dressed as boys who find love despite the odds

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Cate Ginsberg as Phillida and Amber Patrice Coleman as Galatea (Photo by Charlotte Hayes)

‘Galatea’
Through May 10
Theatre Prometheus
Montgomery College Cultural Arts Center
7995 Georgia Ave, Silver Spring, Md.
$27
Theatreprometheus.org

In a timely move, Theatre Prometheus thought it would be a beneficial thing to spread a little queer joy. And since the company’s mission includes engaging audiences and artists in queer and feminist art, there was nothing to stop them. 

Co-artistic directors Tracey Erbacher and Lauren Patton Villegas, both queer, agree they’ve found that joy in John Lyly’s “Galatea,” an Elizabethan-era comedy about Galatea and Phillida, two girls dressed as boys who find love despite some rather slim odds.  

Now playing at Montgomery College Cultural Arts Center on the Takoma Park/Silver Spring campus, the upbeat offering is a mix of contemporary and period, and strives to make audiences happy. Galatea’s cast includes Amber Coleman and Cate Ginsberg as the besotted pair. 

Erbacher, also the production’s director, adds “queer joy is something that I prioritized in casting actors and interviewing production people. I asked them what it means to them, and resoundingly the reply — from both them and the play — is that queer joy is the freedom to be yourself without having to think about it.

“Galatea” was first brought to Prometheus’s attention by Caitlin Partridge, the company’s literary director. Erbacher recalls, “she strongly suggested I read this very queer play. I read it and fell absolutely in love. And because it’s a comedy — I really like directing comedy — I knew that I could lean into that while not neglecting its universal themes of young love.” 

Villegas, who’s not ordinarily drawn to the classics, was also instantly smitten with Galatea.

“Usually with classics, the language doesn’t jump out at me the way modern works do,” she says. “But not so with ‘Galatea.’ The first time I heard it read aloud, I found it easy to follow and entirely accessible in the best way.”

Whether Lyly deliberately wrote a queer play isn’t known. What’s definitely known is the play was written with an all-boy performing troupe in mind; that’s partly why there are so many young female roles, the parts 10-year-old boys were playing at the time. 

There’s not a lot known about Lyly’s personal life, mostly because he wasn’t wildly famous. What’s known about the times is that there wasn’t a concept of “gay,” but there were sodomy laws regarding homosexual activity in England geared toward men having sex with men; it was all very phallocentric, Erbacher says.

She categorically adds, “Women’s sexuality wasn’t considered in the equation. In fact, it was often asked whether women were even capable of having sex with other women. It just was not part of the conversation. If there wasn’t a dick involved it didn’t count.

“Perhaps that’s how the playwright got around it. If there were two male characters in the play he could not have done it.”

Prometheus has done adaptations of ancient myths and some classics, but in this case it’s very faithful to the original text. Other than some cuts winnowing the work down to 90 minutes, “Galatea” is pretty much exactly as Lyly wrote it. 

And that includes, “girls dressed as boys who fall in love thinking girls are boys,” says Erbacher. “And then they start to clock things: ‘I think he is as I am.’ And then they don’t care if the object of their affection is a boy or a girl, the quintessential bisexual iconic line.” 

And without spoiling a thing, the director teases, “the ending is even queerer than the rest of the play.”

Erbacher and Villegas have worked together since Prometheus’s inception 11 years ago. More recently, they became co-artistic directors, splitting the work in myriad ways. It’s a good fit: They share values but not identical artistic sensibilities allow them to exchange objective feedback.

In past seasons, the collaborative pair have produced an all-women production of “Macbeth” and a queered take on [gay] “Cymbeline,” recreating it as a lesbian love story. And when roles aren’t specifically defined male or female, they take the best actor for the part.  

With Galatea, Prometheus lightens the current mood. Erbacher says, “the hard stuff is important but exhausting. We deserve a queer rom-com, a romantic sweeping story that’s not focused on how hard it is to be queer, but rather the joy of it.”

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Timely comedy ‘Fake It’ focuses on Native American themes

Arena Stage production features two out actors

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Eric Stanton Betts (standing) and Brandon Delsid in ‘Fake It Until You Make It.’ (Photo by Daniel Rader)

‘Fake It Until You Make It’
Through May 4
Arena Stage, 1101 Sixth St., S.W.
Tickets start at $59
Arenastage.org

A farce requires teamwork. And Larissa FastHorse’s “Fake It Until You Make It” now at Arena Stage is no exception. 

The timely comedy focuses on Native American nonprofits fractiously housed in a shared space. Friction rises when rivals River (Amy Brenneman), a white woman operating in the Indigenous world, goes up against the more authentic Wynona (Shyla Lefner) to win a lucrative Native-funded grant.   

While Brenneman (best known for TV’s Judging Amy) is undeniably a big draw, it takes a group collaboration to hit marks, land jokes, and pull off the well-executed physical comedy including all those carefully timed door slams.

As members of the six-person “Fake It” cast, Brandon Delsid and Eric Stanton Betts, both out actors of partly indigenous ancestry, contribute to the mayhem. Respectively, Delsid and Betts play Krys and Mark, a pair of two-spirited Native Americans who meet farcically cute and enjoy one of the play’s more satisfying arcs. 

For Krys, every attractive man is a potential next fling, but when Mark, handsome and relatively reserved, arrives on the scene, it’s something entirely different. 

Both onstage and sometimes off, Betts plays the straight man to Delsid’s waggishness. But when it comes down to real life business, the friends are on the same page: not only are the L.A.-based, up-and-coming actors intensely serious about their film and stage careers, but they’re also particularly engaged in the themes of Indigenous People found in “Fake It.” 

On a recent Wednesday following a matinee and an audience talkback, they were ready for a phone interview. 

In establishing whose voice was whose, Delsid clarified with “I’m the one who sounds a little like a Valley girl.” 

WASHINGTON BLADE: Brandon, you’ve been with the show since its early work-shopping days in 2022 and through its debut in Los Angeles and now Washington. Have things evolved? 

BRANDON DELSID: Definitely. I’ve grown up in the last couple of years and so has my character; it’s hard to know where I end and Kry begins. There’s been a real melding.

Eric and I are both queer, and to get to play these roles that are so human, imperfect, sexy, and interesting is really joyful.

As queer artists you don’t always get the chance to do work like this. So many stories are queer trauma, which is incredibly important, but it’s liberating to feel joy and ride it off into the sunset, which, without revealing too much, is kind of what we get to do.

BLADE: There’s some race shifting in “Fake It” particularly with regard to “pretendian” (a pejorative term describing a person who has falsely claimed Indigenous status). 

ERIC STANTON BETTS:  The last few years I’ve been on a journey with my cultural identity and place in the world. I’m a mixed BIPOC artist, my dad is Black and Native American by way of the Cherokee tribe and my mom is white. 

Since 2020, I’ve tried to figure out where I belong in this cultural history that I haven’t had a tie to throughout my life; it’s gratifying to find my way back to my indigeneity and be welcomed. 

In the play, race shifting is introduced through farce. But it’s never in a disrespectful way; it’s never mocked or done in a way to take away from others. The playwright parallels race shifting with gender fluidity. 

DELSID: But in life, there are people posing as Indigenous, actively taking grants, and the play goes there, we don’t hold back. Larissa, our playwright, has made it clear that she’s not trying to figure it out for us. With that in mind, we hope people leave the theater interested and curious to learn more. 

BLADE: Mark arrives kind of the middle of some crazy drama, bringing along a jolt of romance. 

BETTS:  Yeah, when I show up, we’re all sort of shot out of a cannon, struggling to keep up with the initial lie. 

DESLID: A very gay cannon. 

BLADE: What’s up next for you two?

BETTS: Both Brandon and I are up for the same part in a TV pilot, so one of us may be getting some very good news. I also have a Tyler Perry film coming out soon [he plays a model, not an unfamiliar gig for Betts]. 

DELSID: Coming up, I have a recurring part on HBO’s “The Rehearsal,” and a supporting part in “June and John,” a Luc Besson film. But doing “Fake It Until You Make It” in L.A. and now D.C. has been a special time in our lives. It’s 23/7 togetherness. There’s that hour for sleep. 

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