Arts & Entertainment
Janis returns
Actress Davies stars again in Joplin-themed concert/theater mashup
‘One Night With Janis Joplin’
By Randy Johnson
Arena Stage
Mead Center for American Theater
Runs through Aug. 11
$40-$99 for various performances
Sundays, Tuesdays and Wednesdays at 7:30 p.m.
Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays at 8 p.m.
Saturdays and Sundays at 2 p.m.
arenastage.org
Few music lovers — relatively speaking — had a chance to see Janis Joplin live considering she died in 1970. It’s tempting to say that “One Night With Janis Joplin,” the gay-penned (by Randy Johnson) tribute show playing now at Arena Stage, is the next best thing to the now-impossible notion of going to a Joplin performance.
And while the show is that, it’s also not just a cheesy rock tribute show of the type we see given in honor of classic rock acts all the time. It’s its own musical/theatrical experience with singer/actress Mary Bridget Davies in the title role earning raves for her uncanny ability at not just channeling but recreating Joplin’s trademark gutbucket vocals.
The show was a hit at Arena last fall when nearly 20,000 people saw it in Washington. It’s had successful engagements in Portland, Cleveland and Pasadena, Calif., and will open on Broadway at the Lyceum Theatre in October.

Mary Bridget Davies as Janis Joplin in ‘One Night With Janis Joplin.’ (Photo by Jim Cox; courtesy Arena)
Davies (34, straight and Helen Hayes Award-nominated for the role) whom we interviewed last year as well, took a few minutes with us by phone last week from her home in Cleveland to riff on everything from how the show has varied in different cities to why the Joplin allure remains undiminished decades after her untimely death. Her comments have been slightly edited for length.
WASHINGTON BLADE: How was the run at Arena versus other places you’ve played the show?
MARY BRIDGET DAVIES: Arena Stage runs like such a well-run ship. Nothing was ever a problem there. It was like summer camp for theater and we just had a really good time. I’m completely excited to come back.
BLADE: Some critics have said it seems like you were born to do this. Do you feel some cosmic destiny with Janis?
DAVIES: It’s weird, yeah, sometimes I do feel like she’s around. There are some accidental parallels too — frustrated attempts at college … she was just so free and I get to enjoy some of that. I mean, yes, I’m up there saying lines, I’m not just winging it, but she just had that wild abandon and I get to do that every night.
BLADE: Has the show changed since last fall?
DAVIES: Yes, it’s been evolving and getting tighter. We’re not like this tired old circus chorus walking in circles. We’ve had several little breaks so each time we come back excited to do it again. And I think we’ll enjoy it even more this time because the terrain is more familiar now.
BLADE: Have the crowd reactions varied much from city to city?
DAVIES: I was very, very nervous in Pasadena because it’s L.A., so anyone who was anyone came to the show. I mean, like, Cher was there one night. There was a lot of industry vibe there that gave it kind of a scary urgency. At Arena before, I would say we had the most forward people. People would try to get on the stage and dance. I kinda looked at the crew like, “Uh, what am I supposed to do here?” They would wrangle them off like in the Van Halen video. It’s kind of flattering that they were so moved they wanted to get up and jam but it does blur the lines a little. Secretly I was kinda OK with it as long as you don’t try to rip the mic out of my hand and say, “It’s my friend’s birthday.”
BLADE: Is it ever hard to find the balance between crowd interplay and performing it as a straight-up dramatic piece?
DAVIES: Yes. Like in Milwaukee we had this much smaller space with a modified thrust stage. It was almost more fun on one hand but also more intimidating too. If you had a bruise or something, they could see it, it was that close. As a performer you really shouldn’t let the crowd dictate the proceedings but there is something of that fourth wall break because this isn’t a straight-up dramatic piece or a musical. People don’t always realize that. They’ll be on their phone or act like they’re home watching TV. One dude went to sleep. I’m like, “Are you kidding me? This is really hard!” Another guy held a tablet on his lap and taped the entire show.
BLADE: I know technically that’s a no-no, but still, from a historical perspective, think how awful it would be if nobody had bootlegged any of Janis’s shows. We’d have so much less to go on. As long as somebody isn’t trying to profit off of it, isn’t there some value in stealth recording?
DAVIES: Oh yeah, in terms of my research and as a fan, I get that. The rock and roll part of me thinks that’s cool but then on the other hand with the copyright issues, you have to respect that too. You don’t want some 30-second barrage out of someone’s purse showing up on YouTube.
BLADE: As great a run as you’re having with this, is there some part of you that’s concerned about your entire persona and identity getting swallowed up by the myth of Janis?
DAVIES: I have people come up to me and say, “Aren’t you that Janis girl?” I wear it as a badge of honor. I think I’ve been able to maintain a balance. I just released my own album — which Arena has been very kind to let me sell at the shows — and I was nominated for a blues music award. And I take my down time to try to stay current within the industry. But you’re right, it can be a double-edged sword. … There may come a time when my heart’s not in it but for now I’m proud to be “the Janis girl.” If they were saying, “Hey, aren’t you the Ashley Simpson girl?” I’d be a lot more worried.
BLADE: Is part of the reason the show’s been such a hit is that people simply crave hearing Janis sing and this is as close as it gets at least for a live experience?
DAVIES: Yeah, I think there is some of that. It can be pretty overwhelming at times. People still go see Big Brother (Joplin’s old band) in droves, especially in Europe. People are crying. She died 43 years ago and people are still throwing themselves at my feet. Sometimes I’m like, “Whoah, I don’t know how to handle that.” I think people just miss her so much, they’ll take her any way they can get her. Other people come in rather skeptical but I always say, that’s fine. Go ahead and come in skeptical because then the end up leaving very happy.
History
Julius’ Bar ‘sip-in’ laid groundwork for Stonewall
Tuesday marked 60 years since four gay activists held protest
While Stonewall is widely considered the birthplace of the modern LGBTQ rights movement in the U.S., a lesser-known protest inside a Greenwich Village bar three years earlier helped lay critical groundwork for what would follow.
Tuesday marked 60 years since the Julius’ Bar “sip in.”
On April 21, 1966, four gay rights activists — Dick Leitsch, Craig Rodwell, John Timmons, and later Randy Wicker — walked into Julius’ Bar and staged what would become known as a “sip-in” to challenge state liquor regulations on serving alcoholic beverages to gay men — with a drink.
Modeled after the sit-ins that challenged racial segregation across the American South, the protest was designed to confront discriminatory practices targeting LGBTQ patrons in public spaces.
At the time, the Mattachine Society — one of the country’s earliest gay rights groups — was actively pushing back against policies enforced by the New York State Liquor Authority. One of those policies could have resulted in the loss of liquor licenses for serving known or suspected gay men and lesbians. The participants had visited multiple establishments, openly identified themselves as homosexual, and requested a drink — with the anticipation of being denied.
Their final stop was Julius’, where reporters and a photographer had gathered to document the moment. When Leitsch declared their identity, the bartender covered their glasses and refused service, reportedly saying, “I think it’s against the law.” The next day, the New York Times ran a story with the headline, “3 Deviates Invite Exclusion by Bars,” cementing the moment in the public record.
Though initially framed with disrespect — the term “sip-in” itself was coined as a play on civil rights protests — the action marked a turning point. It brought national attention to the systemic discrimination LGBTQ people faced and helped catalyze changes in how liquor laws were enforced. In the years that followed, the protest contributed to the emergence of licensed, more openly gay-friendly bars, which became central social and organizing spaces for LGBTQ communities.
The Washington Blade originally covered when the bar was officially added to the National Park Service’s National Register of Historic Places in 2016.
Today, historians and advocates increasingly recognize the “sip-in” as a key pre-Stonewall milestone. According to the New York City LGBTQ Historic Sites Project, the protest not only increased visibility of the early LGBTQ rights movement but also exposed widespread surveillance and entrapment tactics used against the community.
Marking the 60th anniversary of the event, commemorations have taken place in New York and across the country. Reflecting on its enduring legacy, Amanda Davis, executive director of the NYC LGBTQ Historic Sites Project, spoke about the event.
“Julius’ Bar is a place you can visit and viscerally connect with history,” said Davis. “We’re thrilled to have solidarity locations across the country join us in commemorating the ‘sip-in’’s 60th anniversary and the queer community’s First Amendment right to peaceably assemble.”
For current stewards of the historic bar, the responsibility of preserving that legacy remains front of mind.
“It’s a privilege and a responsibility to be the steward of a place so important to American and LGBTQ history,” said current owner of Julius’ Bar, Helen Buford. “The events of the 1966 Sip-In here at Julius’ resonated across the country and inspired countless others to stand proud for their rights.”
The timing couldn’t have come at a more important moment, Kymn Goldstein, executive director of the June L. Mazer Lesbian Archives, explained.
“At a time when our community faces renewed challenges, coming together in resilience and solidarity reminds us of the power in our collective resistance,” Goldstein said.
The American Civil Liberties Union, an organization dedicated to defending rights and liberties guaranteed by the Constitution, is currently tracking 519 anti-LGBTQ bills across the U.S. The majority are targeted at restricting transgender rights — particularly related to gender-affirming care, sports participation, and the use of public bathrooms.
Some additional groups and bars that held their own “sip-in” as solidarity events to uplift this historic milestone are from across the country include:
Alice Austen House at Steiny’s Pub, Staten Island, N.Y.
Bellows Falls Pride Committee at PK’s Irish Pub, Bellows Falls, Vt.
Brick Road Coffee, Mesa, Ariz.
Brick Road Coffee, Tempe, Ariz.
Dick Leitsch’s Family at Old Louisville Brewery, Louisville, Ky.
The Faerie Playhouse & LGBT+ Archives Project of Louisiana at Le Cabaret, New Orleans
Harlem Pride & John Reddick at L’Artista Italian Kitchen & Bar, New York
JOYR!DE KiKi at Loafers Cocktail Bar, New York
Matthew Lawrence & Jason Tranchida / Headmaster at Deadbeats Bar, Providence, R.I.
Mazer Lesbian Archives at Alana’s Coffee, Los Angeles
New Hope Celebrates at The Club Room, New Hope, Pa.
Queer Memory Project at the University of Evansville Multicultural Student Commons / Ridgway University Center, Evansville, Ind.
Sandy Jack’s Bar, Brooklyn, N.Y.
St. Louis LGBT History Project at Just John Club, St. Louis
The LGBTQ+ Victory Fund National Champagne Brunch was held at Salamander Washington DC on Sunday, April 19. Gov. Andy Beshear (D-Ky.) was presented with the Allyship Award.
(Washington Blade photos by Michael Key)



















The umbrella LGBTQ sports organization Team D.C. held its annual Night of Champions Gala at the Georgetown Marriott on Saturday, April 18. Team D.C. presented scholarships to local student athletes and presented awards to Adam Peck, Manuel Montelongo (a.k.a. Mari Con Carne), Dr. Sara Varghai, Dan Martin and the Centaur Motorcycle Club. Sean Bartel was posthumously honored with the Most Valuable Person Award.
(Washington Blade photos by Michael Key)















