trans

Divafest: Exploring ‘alchemy’ of true self

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By John Lyle Belden

Once considered a serious science, Alchemy was the pursuit of turning lead and other metals to gold. No doubt in the process a number of ancient wizards lucked upon some useful metallurgy. Through transformation, iron becomes the steel it was always meant to be.

In “Divine Alchemists,” what is forged is the self, a story told by those who understand as nearly all involved – playwright Lucy Fields, director Kaya Dorsch, actors Rowan Apple-Knotts, Kipp Morgan, Wilhelmena Dreyer, Maya Doss, and the characters they play – are trans or non-binary.

At a college’s informal board-game club, trans woman Aerith (Apple-Knotts) officially comes out to her friends, who are overjoyed – they finally get to present her with “Baby Trans Orientation”! 

In this world, you get the mentorship and equipment sorely needed in the real one. Aerith (pronounced “heiress”) is given a Cloak to help her blend in among the cisgender-heterosexual population, the “Misgender Deflection Remote” that acts like a magic wand to correct – or at least remove – uses of wrong gender or name, and access to the Transformation Station, which allows Aerith to dress reflecting her true self. 

College projects include a photography shoot for witchy Wisteria (Dreyer), with Aerith as one of the subjects. In turn, for a paper on the trans/non-binary experience, Aerith interviews non-binary Wisteria, trans man Iggy (Morgan) and non-binary Grayson (Doss).

The whole show has a bit of an afterschool special vibe, but even as every line spoken is part of the lesson it comes out naturally from characters who (as seems to be typical) always have to explain themselves, their experience, and, sadly, their validity. There is plenty of fierce humor as well, with moments including the impromptu game show, “Gender Those Clothes!” But there is also a serious undercurrent that especially reveals itself when one is denounced by the ones they love.

The actors reflect the passion and heart that Fields put into this play and Dorsch draws out; their exuberant performance isn’t just lifelike, it’s their lives.

In the real world, the remote control only mutes the ongoing news of trans people – especially children – being treated as less than themselves, less than human. This show alerts us that instead we need to turn the volume up on true respect and equality. The engine of society needs the mettle of every human alloy.

Presented by Theatre Unchained and IndyFringe for DivaFest 2023, performances of “Divine Alchemists” are at 7:30 p.m. Thursday through Saturday, May 4-6, at the IndyFringe Indy Eleven Theatre, 719 E. St. Clair St. (near Mass Ave.), Indianapolis. Tickets and info at indyfringe.org.

IndyFringe: ShMILF Life

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This is part of IndyFringe 2022, Aug. 18-Sept. 4 (individual performance times vary) in downtown Indianapolis. Details and tickets at IndyFringe.org.

By Wendy Carson

“ShMILF Life” is the true story of Ms. Penny Sterling of Rochester, N.Y., and her journey of becoming a trans woman late in life.

She begins in a coffee shop writing on her computer. This is how she spends much of her time as her desk at home has itself transitioned to a makeup table and her cat insists on sitting on her keyboard whenever it is visible. Today, however, she is here awaiting a date.

We are now privy to her story of realizing, at the age of 54, that she was no longer happy living as a man and allowed her to exist as her true self. Some of her friends and family are confused about this, but she valiantly tries to make them understand.

My favorite example is when her male friend points to a lovely woman and says, “When I look at her, I want to have sex with her.” Penny at first echoes the idea, but then realizes that it’s not really true. She then launches into a long, detailed criticism of the woman’s fashion choices, both positive and negative.

She goes online to try dating and gets many short responses, sometimes accompanied by smiley faces, hearts and produce (think eggplants and peaches).

She is very open about the highs and lows of her explorations of being a totally new person. The scariness of putting yourself out in public whether at a bar, online or just in general. Beginning her transition at such and advanced age means that she missed a lot of the learning and growing encompassed in being a woman, still she is persevering.

Her talent as a storyteller and comedian helped keep the evening light and hopeful. I am honestly hoping that the sparseness of her audience was only due to being the late slot on a Thursday evening. She deserves a larger group to speak to, and her voice should indeed be heard.

Do yourself a favor and give this show a shot. Just two performances remain, noon Saturday and 5 p.m. Sunday, Aug. 20-21, on the cabaret stage of the District Theatre, 627 Mass. Ave.

‘Hedwig’ heralds Cardinal’s transformation

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By Wendy Carson

The on- and Off-Broadway hit musical “Hedwig and The Angry Inch” is a unique experience, even more so now as the final production of Cardinal Stage in Bloomington.

As you enter the theater, you notice that it is in the middle of renovations. Your ushers and the crew are all wearing protective vests and hard hats. The entire place is a miasma of construction, complete with caution tape and even a port-a-potty on stage. However, this sets a perfect scene for the spectacle you are about to behold.

For those of you unfamiliar with the story, Hedwig is a visionary singer who escaped East Germany by way of marriage to a G.I. But her dark reality ruins the fairy tale, as she endured a botched sex-change operation, becoming essentially genderless. Rather than sink into despair, she recreates herself into a rock goddess while also creating a rock god, Tommy Gnosis. As with every other man in her life, he leaves her; still she rages on, continuing to tell her story no matter what.

The most surprising part of this production is that James Rose is one of the few trans, genderfluid, or non-binary performers to play the title role. While one may consider this a bit of stunt-casting, Rose quickly shows the talent and passion that makes Hedwig resonate with any audience.

While I have seen and enjoyed other stagings of this show, Rose is the first performer I’ve seen who shows the true duality of Hedwig and Tommy Gnosis. As developed by originator John Cameron Mitchell (with songs by Stephen Trask), the two are distinct persons but portrayed by the same actor. In the Cardinal production, directed by queer performer John Jarboe, the revelation of Gnosis is the best presented I’ve ever seen. Rose makes Hedwig’s “other half” their own person, with his own distinct reckoning.

Paige Scott as Yitzhak (Hedwig’s “husband” from the former Yugoslavia) brings the anger requisite to the character but subtly shows us the deep love felt for Hedwig. With the character being relegated to the background for much of the story, her transformation during the finale is so much more joyous to behold.

Hedwig’s backup band, The Angry Inch, are comprised of Dan Kazemi on keyboard, Ben Jackson on guitar, Galen Morris on bass, and Bryce Greene on drums. They are all an integral part of the show, not just as accompanists, but also bringing out the true rock-and-roll performances demanded of them. They all bring such a sense of joy to the musical, keeping the story from becoming unbearably morose. They also work the crowd prior to the show – let them know if you’ve spotted “Phyllis” in the audience.

I did particularly love Christopher Simanton & Johna Sewell’s costume and wig designs. They made brilliant use of ordinary objects found on or near a construction site and transformed them into stunning works of art. I do recommend taking a moment or two after the show ends to fully take in their amazing array of “wigs” throughout the space, created by props master Aubrey Krueger.*

Since this is Cardinal’s final production before merging with Bloomington Playwrights Project and Pigasus Institute to form Constellation Stage & Screen, the renovation and rebuilding theme of both the show and its design are quite appropriate. So, say goodbye to the old and welcome the new with this amazing update of what is quickly becoming a timeless classic.

Performances run through June 26 at Waldron Auditorium, 122 S. Walnut St., Bloomington, and tickets are pay-what-you-can. Details at cardinalstage.org.

*This last credit was added after initial posting, when it was pointed out Simanton and Sewell mainly made the wigs (and wig-like objects) for people’s heads. Krueger’s designs are static, displayed around the stage set.

Bring on BOLT, with a ‘sad story’ worthy of the telling

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By John Lyle Belden

A new Indianapolis theatre company, Be Out Loud Theatre (BOLT), comes “out” in a big way with the Tennessee Williams rarity “And Tell Sad Stories of the Death of Queens.” For one of Williams’ short dramas, this “play in two scenes” is a rich, satisfying gumbo of New Orleans sass and sadness.

As confessed “transvestite” Candy Delaney (Lance Gray) approaches her 35th birthday, she brings home Karl (Chris Saunders), a brooding, conflicted man, in the hopes of making him as close to a husband as she can hope for. The French Quarter provides some shelter to local gays – as does Candy, a landlord of three properties: “Queens make the best tenants,” she purrs – but this is still around 1960 and being “queer” can be dangerous. Candy’s dreams of normalcy are marred by the catty upstairs renters, Alvin (Joe Barsanti) and Jerry (Christian Condra).

Given the title (and that I was unfamiliar with the script), I couldn’t help bracing myself for a fatal moment. But actually the plot is more about the life of queens in that time and place. In Tennessee Williams fashion, the story is so much about wanting not only what one doesn’t have, but what might not be possible. Gray commands the stage as Candy spins her dreams, her plans, somehow believing she can will them to be. Saunders projects danger, even just standing still; he wants things – money, affection, to be comfortable with himself – but the stigma of the queer keeps them just out of reach of his clenched fists.

BOLT founder and director Michael Swinford makes a bold statement with his premiere production. He said he wanted to start with an LGBTQ-focused play that predates Stonewall and the AIDS generation. For a stark reminder of how life used to be – even in carefree New Orleans – this was an excellent story to tell.

“And Tell Sad Stories of the Death of Queens” plays through Jan. 20 on the cabaret second stage at The District Theatre (former home of Theatre on the Square), 627 Massachusetts Ave., now managed by IndyFringe. For info and tickets, visit http://www.indyfringe.org.

Zach & Zack’s ‘Angry Inch’ measures up

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By John Lyle Belden

Once again, internationally ignored superstar Hedwig Robinson takes the stage in Indianapolis, fronting “Hedwig and the Angry Inch.” The German glam goddess tells her story while shadowing former partner Johnny Gnosis, who is on another stage, reaping the benefits of scandal.

“Hedwig,” the acclaimed Off-Broadway musical, is a transcendent sensory experience when done right — and Zach (Rosing) & Zack (Neiditch) may have succeeded with this month’s production on the Epilogue Players stage.

That’s right, this punk youthquake is in the little corner theatre that typically showcases older actors. But on the other hand, given her Cold War backstory, the character of Hedwig isn’t so young anymore. The show was originally performed and set around the year 2000, so to keep the story fresh this play blurs the last 20 years into a spacetime setting of its own — not hard to reconcile for folks like me for whom the 20th century feels like yesterday, but might require some don’t-think-about-it for younger viewers.

Tim Hunt is Hedwig, with face, voice and attitude much like the show’s creator and original star, John Cameron Mitchell. Her look is made complete by exquisite costumes and headpieces by costumer Beck Jones, especially during “Wig in a Box.”

Hedwig’s present husband, Yitzhak, is portrayed perfectly by Kate Homan, from his sulking resentment and grudging fidelity to an outstanding transformation at the end.

They are backed by a solid onstage band of Jacob Stensberg, Matt Day, Steven Byroad and Andrew McAfee. They perform on a punk-aesthetic stage complete with cleverly used discarded-but-functional televisions.

As fans know, the “Angry Inch” refers to more than the band; it’s the result of the botched sex-change operation in East Berlin when young Hansel Schmidt became Hedwig. So, needless to say, there is mature content in this show (but no nudity). And as the historical context slips further into the past, and it being less unusual to see a Trans entertainer on stage, we are confronted with the other, larger, more universal theme of the play — the personal search for completion.

This world’s foundational myth (in the “Origin of Love”) is that humanity was only content when each “person” was a complete set of two individuals fused together. But in the longing for finding one’s other half, they ironically lose or give away parts of themselves. This is Hedwig’s journey — losing her “parts” to gain a man, yielding her creativity in the attempt to hold another, then denying Yitzhak his own completion for as long as her own soul is fragmented.

As the many puzzles presented come together, we all share in the completion of a beautiful experience, a feeling no one can tear down.

Performances are Thursday through Sunday (Jan. 11-14) at 1849 N. Alabama St. Click here for info and tickets.

There’s a lot going on with ‘Hir’ at Phoenix Theatre

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By John Lyle Belden

Talk about having issues with the “binary” – if one feels overwhelmed while viewing “Hir,” on stage through June 18 at the Phoenix Theatre, it’s because we are slammed with two dramatic themes simultaneously.

First, we are hit with the affects of trauma and abuse: After years of dominating his family and using them as punching bags, Arnold (Brad Griffith) suffered a stroke, making him barely able to talk or even think. We meet him a year later, during which his long-suffering wife, Paige (Jen Johansen), has gone the opposite way in every aspect of life. What was clean is left dirty; what was ordered is in disarray; what was put away is tossed to the floor or stuffed in an odd place. And, once forbidden to work outside the home, she has taken a job with a non-profit. What she makes there doesn’t matter, as paying bills on time was the old life. As for Arnold, he is kept in a medicated stupor and deprived of all dignity.

Into this situation comes their son, Isaac (Ben Schuetz), a discharged Marine who had the duty of picking up combatants’ body parts from the battlefield. Returning from his recent traumatic environment to his old one, all he wants is a world that makes sense.

The second theme – from which comes the play’s title – is that among the family’s changes is that the younger sibling has changed from daughter to son. Max (Ariel Laukins) has taken hormones and insists on being referred to by the pronouns “ze” and “hir” (rather than he/she or her/him). Paige is overjoyed to have something so different and new – “the future!” she declares – that she homeschools Max so that they can learn together.

The aspect of gender roles and identity takes on irony in that while Max is free to be hir-self, part of Arnold’s humiliation is being made to always wear a dress. What’s more, in the mixed-up world of this drama, Max is the most stable and certain person on the stage.

Johansen once again comes through in chewing through a meaty role. Griffith ably compensates for his role’s limited speech with his physicality. Schuetz has Isaac deal with the swirling insanity in a convincing manner, without going over the top. And Laukins makes an excellent debut.

The world of “Hir” is exaggerated and mildly bizarre, providing a lot of laughs, but this is no comedy. Trans playwright Taylor Mac’s script uses the funhouse mirror to magnify these issues, allowing us to confront what is wrong about these people’s lives without distraction by the underlying tragedy – but one way or another, it has to be dealt with.

Find the Phoenix at 749 N. Park Ave. (corner of Park and St. Clair downtown, near Mass. Ave.); call 317-635-7529 or visit http://www.phoenixtheatre.org.