Theater
Theater that starts uncomfortable conversations
Theater Alliance director on ‘City in Transition’ — 4 plays about D.C.’s quadrants
Raymond O. Caldwell is the producing artistic director of Theater Alliance.
‘City in Transition: The Quadrant Series’
Streaming from April 24-May 24
Theater Alliance
Recently, a Facebook post asked “Are there any activist theaters in D.C.?” A local actor quickly replied. “There’s only one,” she wrote. “It’s Theater Alliance.”
During a phone interview from his home in Anacostia last week, Theater Alliance’s producing artistic director Raymond O. Caldwell, addressed the social media query: “We keep our heads down and do the work. Well before the pandemic, we were trying to have conversations about race in America. Then it seemed niche work. Now that work is in vogue. There might come a time when it’s no longer stylish. But that’s OK, we’re ultimately doing it to transform people’s lives and start conversations.
“Our plays won’t change the world. Straight up. But we can start conversations that are uncomfortable and don’t have easy answers. And by partnering our productions with various nonprofits, we’re able to involve people in the movement whether it’s on the front line or stuffing envelopes.”
In residence at Anacostia Playhouse, Theater Alliance’s mission is to illuminate the experiences, philosophies, and interests of D.C.’s diverse population. When Caldwell, who is gay, took helm of the company in January 2019, the organization was already steeped in diversity. He’s worked to continue and expand on that, creating a cultural institution that’s invited in the surrounding, mostly Black community.
The company kicked off its virtual season in December with eight pieces about protest centered around the demands of the Black Lives Matter movement. Having started off nationally, they’re now moving locally with “City in Transition: The Quadrant Series,” a 90-minute intersection of theater and film directed by Caldwell.
Part of the multi-Helen Hayes Award-winning company’s Hothouse new play development series, “City in Transition” consists of four filmed plays about Washington’s quadrants, SE, SW, NE, and NW written by local black playwrights Khadijah Z. Ali-Coleman, Avery Collins, Shalom Omo-Osagie, and Leslie Scott-Jones.
The not long pieces are set in the present, past, and future. Topics include Black nonprofits battling to get funding via a game show; the meeting of hip-hop artists and violence set against the gentrified waterfront; a wealthy Black family debating whether to transform its landmark Black property into a trendy lounge for whites; and a white census taker discussing the changing city and current protests with a Black Washington native.
“Almost 13 years ago, I came to D.C. to be in Chocolate City but to my surprise, it wasn’t here,” says Caldwell, 37.
“When I think about a city changing and moving through gentrification, what concerns me is the loss of history, the stories of the folks who once lived here disappear.
“And interestingly, as D.C. gentrifies, we start noticing an uptick of murals and Black aesthetic of the city. It allows liberal yuppies to feel they’re in an urban environment but forgetting the rich history particularly for Black people in DC.”
He initially came to Washington for a six-month fellowship but stayed on. After six years at
Arena Stage, desirous to work outside of a white space, he began teaching at Howard University.
At Howard, his work centered on the universality of storytelling. “I pitched what folks would consider white work like Lillian Hellman’s provocatively lesbian-themed play, ‘The Children’s Hour.’”
“I’d ask my predominantly Black audience to imagine ourselves there as well, and they would.
The audience left thinking the play was written by a Black woman. It was additionally powerful because we in the Black community have trouble talking about homosexuality.”
As gay, Black, and Asian, Caldwell sometimes refers to himself as third culture: “Being who I am allows more space for me to see biases. I go into work asking myself what are the opportunities for transformation within me and the ensemble of artists I’ll be working with?”
Born in Germany to a German-Filipino mother and African-American father, he mostly grew up in Germany but spent summers with his father in the U.S. At 13, he went to live with his father.
“He thought I’d had enough of the European experience and wanted to teach me what it was to be a Black man in the world. And interestingly, that became the center of my activism.”
Caldwell’s American grandmother described him like this: “That boy can’t help but livin’.”
It’s true, he keeps busy, says Caldwell. He doesn’t turn down too many projects. “I’m honored to be creating art. There are so many ideas I want to push and propagate and now having a space and platform makes it especially hard to say no. It’s a good place to be.”
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.”
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.
Theater
Out dancer on Alvin Ailey’s stint at Warner Theatre
10-day production marks kickoff of national tour
Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater
Through Feb. 8
Warner Theatre
513 12th St., N.W.
Tickets start at $75
ailey.org
The legendary Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater is coming to Washington’s Warner Theatre, and one of its principal veterans couldn’t be more pleased. Out dancer Renaldo Maurice is eager to be a part of the company’s 10-day stint, the kickoff of a national tour that extends through early May.
“I love the respectful D.C. crowd and they love us,” says Maurice, a member of esteemed modern dance company for 15 years. The traveling tour is made of two programs and different casting with Ailey’s masterwork “Revelations” in both programs.
Recently, we caught up with Maurice via phone. He called from one of the quiet rooms in his New York City gym where he’s getting his body ready for the long Ailey tour.
Based in North Newark, N.J., where he recently bought a house, Maurice looks forward to being on the road: “I enjoy the rigorous performance schedule, classes, shows, gym, and travel. It’s all part of carving out a lane for myself and my future and what that looks like.”
Raised by a single mother of three in Gary, Ind., Maurice, 33, first saw Alvin Ailey as a young kid in the Auditorium Theatre in downtown Chicago, the same venue where he’s performed with the company as a professional dancer.
He credits his mother with his success: “She’s a real dance mom. I would not be the man or artist I am today if it weren’t for the grooming and discipline of my mom. Support and encouragement. It’s impacted my artistry and my adulthood.”
Maurice is also part of the New York Ballroom scene, an African-American and Latin underground LGBTQ+ subculture where ball attendees “walk” in a variety of categories (like “realness,” “fashion,” and “sex siren”) for big prizes. He’s known as the Legendary Overall Father of the Haus of Alpha Omega.
WASHINGTON BLADE: Like many gay men of his era, Ailey lived a largely closeted public life before his death from AIDS-related complications in 1989.
RENALDO MAURICE Not unusual for a Black gay man born during the Depression in Rogers, Texas, who’s striving to break out in the industry to be a creative. You want to be respected and heard. Black man, and Black man who dances, and you may be same-sex gender loving too. It was a lot, especially at that time.
BLADE: Ailey has been described as intellectual, humble, and graceful. He possessed strength. He knew who he was and what stories he wanted to tell.
MAURICE: Definitely, he wanted to concentrate on sharing and telling stories. What kept him going was his art. Ailey wanted dancers to live their lives and express that experience on stage. That way people in the audience could connect with them. It’s incredibly powerful that you can touch people by moving your body.
That’s partly what’s so special about “Revelations,” his longest running ballet and a fan favorite that’s part of the upcoming tour. Choreographed by Alvin Ailey in 1960, it’s a modern dance work that honors African-American cultural heritage through themes of grief, joy, and faith.
BLADE: Is “Revelation” a meaningful piece for you?
MAURICE: It’s my favorite piece. I saw it as a kid and now perform it as a professional dance artist. I’ve grown into the role since I was 20 years old.
BLADE: How can a dancer in a prestigious company also be a ballroom house father?
MAURICE: I’ve made it work. I learned how to navigate and separate. I’m a principal dancer with Ailey. And I take that seriously. But I’m also a house father and I take that seriously as well.
I’m about positivity, unity, and hard work. In ballroom you compete and if you’re not good, you can get chopped. You got to work on your craft and come back harder. It’s the same with dance.
BLADE: Any message for queer audiences?
MAURICE: I know my queer brothers and sisters love to leave with something good. If you come to any Ailey performance you’ll be touched, your spirit will be uplifted. There’s laughter, thoughtful and tender moments. And it’s all delivered by artists who are passionate about what they do.
BLADE: Alvin Ailey has been a huge part of your life. Thoughts on that?
MAURICE: I’m a believer in it takes a village. Hard work and discipline. I take it seriously and I love what I do. Ailey has provided me with a lot: world travel, a livelihood, and working with talented people here and internationally. Alvin Ailey has been a huge part of my life from boyhood to now. It’s been great.
4th Circuit rules against discharged service members with HIV
PHOTOS: Clash
Gay Treasury Secretary’s silence on LGBTQ issues shows he is scum
Lawsuit to restore Stonewall Pride flag filed
EXCLUSIVE: Markey says transgender rights fight is ‘next frontier’
Four bisexual women on stereotypes, erasure, representation, and joy
Magic is happening for Round House’s out stage manager
‘Heated Rivalry’ fandom exposes LGBTQ divide in Baltimore
Home is where the heart is
