The Avett Brothers bring big questions to the high seas in ‘Swept Away’ at Arena Stage

By D.R. Lewis

This article was originally published in The DC Line, here.

The distance between The Avett Brothers’ upbringing in Concord, North Carolina, and the 19th-century whaling industry of New Bedford, Massachusetts, spans hundreds of miles and several lifetimes. But in Swept Away, a new musical that asks just how far humans will go to survive, sea shanties of a bygone era are replaced with selections from the folk rock band’s sweeping repertoire. Following its world premiere at Berkeley Repertory Theatre last year, Swept Away takes audiences out to sea in Arena Stage’s Kreeger Theater through Jan. 14.

Inspired by the true story of the shipwrecked Mignonette (and The Avett Brothers album of the same name), Swept Away opens on a white metal cot where a former whaler, Mate (John Gallagher Jr.), lies dying from tuberculosis. As his body deteriorates from illness and his mind wanders to the past, he is haunted by the ghosts of three seamen who suffered alongside him in younger days: a youthful sailor, Little Brother (Adrian Blake Enscoe), Big Brother (Stark Sands) and their Captain (Wayne Duvall). They implore him to recount the story of their shared struggles as the lone survivors of a shipwreck. As the tale unfolds, we watch the men endure disaster, followed by weeks of starvation and thirst while adrift on a small lifeboat. When their situation becomes more and more fraught, they are forced to confront impossible questions of salvation, mercy and depravity in order to survive.

Comprised of hand-picked songs from The Avett Brothers’ extensive catalog of rock, roots and Americana, the musical’s folk score ranges from cheeky commentary on life at sea (“Hard Worker”) to the regrets of a career captain (“May It Last”) to a young man’s yearning for his distant lover when the fragile nature of life finally sets in (“A Gift for Melody Anne”). The arrangements by orchestrators Brian Usifer and Chris Miller vary accordingly, taking on both electric and acoustic treatments. Gallagher, Duvall, Sands and Enscoe are careful stewards of the Avett Brothers’ beloved songs, and their four voices blend remarkably well in group numbers and soar in solo turns. When combined with the (frequently offstage) ensemble, the tight harmonies work to haunt and comfort in equal measure. 

John Logan’s book provides a sturdy framework for the score while resisting the oft-indulged urge of other jukebox musicals to shoehorn existing songs into a complex, contrived plot. He chooses to go deep, rather than wide, providing enough details to bring the characters to life. He offers suitable dialogue to advance the simple story when needed and adequately tees up the songs for optimal impact. Despite by and large deferring to the score, Logan does put forth some meaty moral commentary that, while it occasionally feels trite, ultimately leaves audiences with plenty to ponder. 

As the Mate, an extremely charismatic Gallagher quickly captures the audience’s attention, never relinquishing his grasp even as ne’er-do-well charm devolves amid ravenous desperation. Duvall’s forlorn Captain lies somewhere between the Titanic’s steadfast Capt. Edward Smith and a defeated Willy Loman, struggling to accept the personal price he has paid for a career at sea. His self-professed failure to nurture his family is made all the more poignant by the devoted relationship Big Brother and Little Brother share. Despite a limited backstory, the chemistry between Sands and Enscoe is so strong that when an inevitable confrontation finally arrives and a dramatically logical but disturbing choice is made, the audience is left breathless.

Where Enscoe’s Little Brother is all heart, Sands’ Big Brother is entirely soul. His tenderness is at odds with the pompous masculinity of the ship’s crew, eliciting initial laughs from the audience. But as circumstances become increasingly dire, his enduring affection for his sibling and commitment to his faith are balm for both Little Brother and the audience. In the duet “Murder in the City,” the brothers affirm the importance of their familial love and the preciousness of their connection, despite their discordant dreams. “Always remember there was nothing worth sharing like the love that let us share our name,” they softly sing, moments before their lives, along with the ship, are upended forever.

Swept Away offers a departure from the flashy production numbers that are a hallmark of recent jukebox musicals like Jagged Little Pill (Alanis Morissette), Head Over Heels (The Go-Go’s, also directed by Michael Mayer) and Once Upon a One More Time (Britney Spears, which premiered at DC’s Shakespeare Theatre Company in 2021). With some exceptions — a mashup of “Ain’t No Man” with “Lord Lay Your Hand on My Shoulder” (a new song written for the show), and “Hard Worker” (an upbeat song that puts the ensemble front and center) — most of the musical numbers feel like a continuing series of gentle reflections. While the songs do little in the way of moving the scant plot along, Logan’s careful curation of the tight 90-minute setlist does an admirable job of deepening the audience’s understanding of, and sympathy for, the characters. Given the circumstances, it’s a good fit.

So is the show’s director. Mayer may be best known for his work on Spring Awakening, the coming-of-age rock musical that earned both him and Gallagher their first Tony Awards. But nearly 20 years after Spring Awakening first opened in New York, Swept Away feels like a matured extension of that groundbreaking musical. The social loneliness of adolescence has given way to physical isolation on the open sea; the strict expectations of parents, educators and church leaders are left onshore, while the pressures of one’s humanity, faith and sense of self push against the instinct to survive; and the immobilizing fear of a long life ahead is replaced with the regrets of one already lived. 

Beyond his handle on the show’s most compelling dramatic questions, Mayer’s handiwork as a technician comes through clearly. He succeeds in keeping the pace of the show at a steady clip, even as the sailors languish in expectant waiting. The starkness of the four stranded sailors in a tiny boat, slowly spinning in the absence of their lost crewmates, is a major shift from the lively deck that bustles with activity earlier in the show. In conjunction with his creative team, Mayer steadily ratchets up the desperation through the latter half of the show, beginning with the initial tempest that precipitates the ship’s sinking. The battering of the ship and its crew is one of the most impressive sequences in the production. At first mildly tossed by the sea, the crew soon is thrown about the stage in perfect coordination. Where David Neumann’s slick choreography of the musical’s early group numbers shows the crew united in their controlled movements about the ship, once at the mercy of the ocean they are unified only in their powerlessness. 

The strong direction is matched by excellent technical work by Mayer’s creative team. Rachel Hauck’s massive ship set fills the Kreeger stage and, in a deeply satisfying coup, transforms in an instant to underscore both the isolation of the surviving sailors and the endlessness of the open sea. Kevin Adams’ lighting ebbs and flows between the harsh, reflective brightness of a blazing sun, and the shadowy bluish green darkness that intimates memories and the ocean floor. John Shivers’ sound design fills the background quietly, regularly resurfacing with reminders of waves lapping at the boat. And Susan Hilferty’s worn costumes subtly reflect the salty residue of a life lived at sea.

Despite the similarities between musical theater and country (or country-adjacent) music, which both rely heavily on narrative-driven storytelling over abstract hooks, prior attempts to merge the genres (Shucked,Bright Star, 9 to 5, Urban Cowboy, etc.) have met with varying levels of success. But unlike those past iterations, Swept Away boldly leverages its source material to present compelling existential dilemmas to its audience. The direness of the characters’ circumstances and their resulting moral abandonment forces viewers to confront deeply difficult questions. What would I sacrifice to save the ones I love most? How far would I go to see another sunrise? And, as so poignantly asked in the song “No Hard Feelings”: “When my body won’t hold me anymore and it finally lets me free, will I be ready?” 

Not everyone will be willing to confront those difficult quandaries on a night out at the theater. Still, those theatergoers who take their seats ready to be challenged are likely to relish in this bold new musical. And, in its ultimate faithfulness to its source material, Swept Away will surely satisfy The Avett Brothers’ most devoted followers. 

In this maiden musical theater voyage, Swept Away makes a strong case that the band’s musical style lends itself naturally to dramatization and holds great potential to make a splash.. The show’s producers have been clear that their sights are on the Great White Way, and Arena Stage has already added two weeks to the show’s run — an extension announced just before Wednesday’s official opening after a week and a half of previews. While it remains unclear whether this ship can successfully pull into New York Harbor and drydock somewhere along Broadway, Swept Away appears to be calling for another sailing.

A welcoming ‘Irish Carol’ in a chummy pub at Keegan Theatre

By Haley Huchler

This article was originally published in DC Theater Arts, here.

The set of An Irish Carol is an authentically warm Irish pub flush with Christmas decorations, a tap that only spouts Guinness, and a sign above it all says “Failte,” an Irish word meaning “welcome.” In this delightful Dickensian tale, Matthew J. Keenan, the playwright and set designer of An Irish Carol, creates both a set and a story that welcomes audience members into a cozy and compelling world each December at The Keegan Theatre.

The endearing background of a quaint Irish pub is at odds with the prickly star of the AnIrish Carol. Kevin Adams plays David, the main character of this tale that loosely follows Dickens’ classic A Christmas Carol, making the 21st-century Irishman a new spin on Scrooge.

An Irish Carol follows the familiar structure of Dickens’ classic novella, A Christmas Carol. We meet grumpy pub owner David, who berates his bartender and snaps at his friends, a gang of locals who are as joyful as David is prickly. Mentions of economic hardship and cell phones place this story somewhere around the Great Recession in 2008. David’s pub is losing business, partially due to his abrasive demeanor that deters customers and friends alike. Only a few old regulars remain loyal, continuing to patronize the pub and persuade their old friend to change his ill-tempered ways before it’s too late.

Unlike Dickens’ version of events, there are no ghastly ghosts that come to haunt the Scrooge-like character, just jolly, slightly foul-mouthed men who still believe they have a chance to make David see the error of his ways. Humor and lightheartedness abound in a play that could easily be much darker. The physical comedy, particularly of Timothy H. Lynch as Frank, is a delight. The gang of mildly crude men is balanced out by Sarah Chapin’s warm and cheery role as Simon’s fiancée, Anna. The performance of Taylor Witt as the bartender Bartek brings optimism and hope to the story — despite his poor treatment by David, Bartek holds fast to the idea that most people are fundamentally good at heart.

The story of An Irish Carol is simple and grounded in banter, wisecracks, and well wishes among friends. The audience gets to sit in on a chummy conversation among pals reminiscing about the good ol’ days, trying to remind David of his connection to friends and to the world. The Keegan Theatre provides a cozy and intimate place for this particular play to unfold, and I couldn’t imagine a more suitable venue. The experience felt truly akin to sitting in a beloved pub chatting with friends.

Director Mark A. Rhea never lets the story descend into the bleakness that it could, delivering a tale that doesn’t make the viewer despair about David’s final fate, unlike in some retellings of A Christmas Carol where we deeply fear for the Scrooge character’s soul. There is a deep and comforting reassurance in An Irish Carol that things, however grim they may seem, will turn out for the better.

The frequent and precise changes in lighting from warm gold to icy blue illuminate the tone of each scene, reminding us that although this play has a lighthearted feel, there is still emotional depth to the story. While the cast may excel at bringing humor and joy to the stage, they are also clearly committed to the exploration of complex relationships and emotions. I was moved by Mike Tinder’s portrayal of Richard, an old friend of David’s who, amid his own personal sorrows, delivers what may be the final nudge to inspire David’s change.

The story’s resolution falls a little flat compared to the careful and lively buildup. David’s decision to alter his life feels too internalized. His main inspiration to change was a letter whose contents we never see, and it was a bit disappointing to be left wondering what exactly was said to make David change his tune.

Nevertheless, An Irish Carol delivers in the most important ways: laughter, clever dialogue, and a beloved story with heart. The rollicking characters in this play are more memorable than those of other retellings, and for that, An Irish Carol is well worth a trip to The Keegan Theatre this holiday season.

Gay Women of Rehoboth Hosts New ‘Women’s Arts Project’—A Vibrant Celebration Offering Music, Games, and Queer Community

By Abby Stuckrath

This article was originally published in Tagg Magazine, here.

In Rehoboth Beach, Delaware, Gay Women of Rehoboth is hosting the Women’s Arts Project, a new event celebrating gay women this winter. 

As the third-largest LGBTQ+ community in the United States, Rehoboth has long been a hub for queer festivities. However, there has been a noticeable decline in LGBTQ+ businesses and spaces, particularly gay bars. “The gay bars that were here aren’t here anymore,” says Lisa Soens, co-organizer of Gay Women of Rehoboth. “There are only a few places that can be called a gay establishment.” 

The dwindling number of lesbian bars across the United States, from almost 200 in the 1980s to 31 today, underscores the need for alternative congregating spaces beyond traditional LGBTQ+ nightclubs. Soens is determined to build a queer community that extends beyond bars, emphasizing the importance of safe spaces for gay women in Rehoboth. 

Her vision includes exposure to new musicians and art while fostering connections, conversations, and learning experiences.

The Women’s Arts Project, held from January 12th to 14th, is a testament to this commitment. The event aims to uplift musical talent from the East Coast and provide inclusive entertainment during the winter months. “We thought we would welcome an event in the winter so that we could give the ladies something to do,” explains Viki Dee, a local musician and co-organizer. 

Friday kicks off with a poker tournament hosted by Las Vegas Women’s Poker Tournament runner-up DJ Brooke. The evening unfolds with musical performances by notable artists such as Dina Hall, Saxtress Pamela Williams, Gem Fatales,Nashville star Sarah Peacock,  and DJ Shadylady.

Saturday continues the festivities with a bingo championship and a keynote speech by Eboné Bell, Founder and Editor in Chief of Tagg Magazine. The musical lineup includes E’lissa Jones, Be Steadwell, Yasmin Williams, Vicci Martinez, and stand-up by comedian Jessica Kirson.

Sunday takes on a special significance as the event pays tribute to women veterans and first responders. “For women veterans, it’s always been a silent thing. We want to not make it silent anymore,” says Dee. 

Soens, inspired by her experiences volunteering with veteran women, aims to uplift their voices and give them the recognition they deserve. “I just feel like they aren’t recognized and given the honor that they deserve,” shares Sosen.  

The weekend concludes with a cornhole tournament, a fun way to end a celebratory event dedicated to ensuring all participants feel seen, heard, and welcomed. The Women’s Arts Project stands as a beacon of inclusivity, creating a space where the diverse voices of queer women can resonate and thrive. “I just want everyone to feel a part of the community,” says Soens. “We are creating a space for everybody.” 

For more information on Gay Women of Rehoboth and the Women’s Art Project, visit www.gaywomenofrehoboth.org.

Centuries: Imagining Black Women Cycling Across Time

by Oluseyi Akinyode

This article was originally published in DC Trending, here.

Walking on the trails near home, I’m filled with longing as cyclists swish by. There’s something about riding a bike — You can cover more terrain than by walking. Two weeks ago, I took the first step to fulfill that yearning by taking an adult biking class for beginners with a group of about 20 sponsored by the Washington Area Bicyclist Association (WABA). The group included ten Black people, and eight of them were women. It’s a rarely represented activity in my daily life and one that I find compelling given the perception that Black women don’t ride.

As part of my biking journey, I was intrigued to go check out Centuries, an immersive digital art installation by Nekisha Durrett at the K Street Virtual Gallery, honoring five Black women cyclists (Marylou Jackson, Velma Jackson, Ethyl Miller, Leolya Nelson, Constance White) who biked on a 250-mile journey over three days from NYC to Washington, DC in 1928.

Cycling represents not just physical mobility but also socio-economic mobility. It signifies the presence of leisure time beyond daily responsibilities and the presence of expendable income. It also lends itself to exploration and movement through space without barriers. The journey of these five Black women takes on audacious meaning considering the social and racial climate then. 

The K Street Virtual Gallery is an initiative by NoMaBid that allows artists to create digital art installations projected onto the K Street underpass that sits between First and Second Streets NE as part of a broader revitalization of the area. According to the virtual gallery creators, it was their goal to create a space where people could stop, reflect, and enjoy their day. NoMa BID President Maura Brophy explained, “The gallery brings light and color to an otherwise dark space, but the rotating exhibits allow us to use the space to bring new pieces to the gallery and tell unique stories. The exhibits will change over time, allowing people to experience something new and exciting with each piece.”

The first K Street Virgual Gallery installation was created by artist My Ly, who used abstract colors and shapes moving across the walls of the underpass to render the multiplicities of transportation modes in the underpass. 

This second installation, entitled Centuries and created by Durrett, continues the theme of movement from a different perspective by paying homage to the journeys of these five Black female cyclists. Projected onto the rough-hewn stones of the underpass are AI-generated images of ten Black women cyclists dressed in period outfits spanning the past to the future. The selection includes a cyclist from Victorian times, a nod to the possibility that Black women have ridden earlier than imagined. Texts like “WE OUTSIDE WE OUTSIDE” and “BLACK WOMEN CYCLE” amplify the theme of stories in motion. 

A challenging cycling traverse was among the inspirations for Durrett’s installation. On a ride, the artist recalls suddenly hearing shouts from a group of Black women cyclists above — “Sis, you’ve got this; you’re so close. You’re walking the path of your ancestors.” Durrett believed that only with their encouragement did she emerge from the traverse. She shared that her goal for the exhibit was to remind us that “the paths we take have been paved by those who have gone before.”

This installation is in keeping with past works by the artist, such as Go-Go Belongs Here at the National Portrait Gallery, True Grit at James Madison University, and Don’t Forget to Remember (Me) in the cloisters at Bryn Mawr College. Employing text, materials, and imagery, these narratives tell the stories of individuals who have been forgotten while also envisioning limitless possibilities for the future that incorporate their unique experiences.

Durrett used AI to overcome artistic limitations, intending only to include photographs of Black women in the installation. However, the only available photo, most likely sourced from a Newspaper microfiche, was of poor quality and not suitable for reproduction. So Durett opted to use Midjourney, an AI application that generates images from texts. This allowed her to vividly portray Black women cycling, tying into Durrett’s practice of imagined realities. While sifting through AI-generated images for the installation, the artist couldn’t find images that captured her vision. So instead, she trained the AI model by inputting specific phrases to generate the images of the ten Black women featured in the installation. This experience serves as a reminder that the experiences of Black individuals may often be overlooked or forgotten in a rapidly advancing world driven by AI technology.

Given its recent past as a homeless encampment, an underpass filled only with passersby would be inadequate. The K Street Gallery is a clever approach that reflects a myriad of the city’s perspectives all the while embacing goals for redevelopment. In the future, after learning to ride, I may be one of those cyclists riding through the K Street underpass, continuing the journey of those who came before. 

The K Street Gallery will feature a roster of installations by artists throughout the year. Artists, artist teams, and designers interested in participating in the K Street Virtual Gallery can contact events@nomabid.com. Centuries will be running for the next six months at the K Street Gallery, located close to 100 K St NE.

Folger Theatre solves one of Shakespeare’s ‘problem plays’ — at least in part

By D. R. Lewis

This article was originally published in The DC Line, here.

For the unacclimated, an advertisement for William Shakespeare’s The Winter’s Tale might conjure images of holiday stories that are often seen on stage this time of year. But DC audiences will find a twisting, tangled yarn spun of jealous royals, blood-thirsty bears and folksy shepherds rather than holly sprigs and spirits of Christmases past, present and future. Playing through Dec. 17 in an admirable production, Folger Theatre reasserts The Winter’s Tale as one of Shakespeare’s “problem plays” and begs audience members to open their imaginations to the playwright’s most extraordinary dramatic whims.

The Winter’s Tale begins in the court of Sicilian king Leontes (Hadi Tabbal), who misinterprets a moment of friendship between his pregnant wife Hermione (Antoinette Crowe-Legacy) and visiting Bohemian king Polixenes (Drew Kopas). Growing jealous, Leontes instructs an aide to kill Polixenes, imprisons Hermione, and orders the abandonment of newborn child Perdita. While Polixenes manages to escape, Hermione ambiguously withers away and the baby is left to die in Bohemia. Only after the Oracle of Delphos exonerates Hermione does Leontes see the foolishness in his jealousy, prompting him to commit to atoning for his reckless behavior. Years later, Perdita (Kayleandra White) — having been rescued and raised by a shepherd — falls in love with Bohemian prince Florizel (Jonathan Del Palmer). Their love, along with the epiphany that Perdita is the Sicilian princess, not only brings the kingdoms together in friendship once again, but also facilitates Hermione’s resurrection (or, perhaps, the revelation that she’s been alive all along).

What begins as a deeply dramatic descent of a jealous king, complete with death and banishment, eventually gives way to a joyous romp of mistaken identity and inevitable romance. Such tonal transition has marked The Winter’s Tale with the scholarly “problem play” label, and presents a significant challenge for producing companies to hold the audience’s attention through the shifting vibe. Sure, for some, Shakespeare’s “genius” status leaves him immune to criticism. But The Winter’s Play is too full of dissatisfying dramatic wrinkles to make for anything other than an inconsistent night in the theater. When compared to the rest of the canon, The Winter’s Tale reveals itself as simply a lesser play. Please don’t shake your fist (spear?) at me.

Regardless, director Tamilla Woodard does her best to rise to the challenge — and by and large delivers. Rather than trying to force a smooth gradient between the play’s initial drama and the subsequent comedy, she leans on her ensemble of actors and creative team to draw stark stylistic differences between the two halves of her production. Raul Abrego Jr.’s bilevel set, which fits snugly onto the Folger’s small stage, alternates effectively between the chic, angular modernism in the play’s Sicilian scenes and the country cowboy flair of more rural Bohemia. Sarah Cubbage’s costumes correspond accordingly, with charcoal suits and businesswear for the royal Sicilians and cowboy hats and chaps for their rural Bohemian counterparts. Max Doolittle’s lighting design appropriately sets the mood, especially in the darkness of the forest where Perdita was to be abandoned and the sunny sheep-shearing festival that is the centerpiece of the production’s second half. These strong style choices effectively signal to the audience that the dramatic landscape has changed, helping to ease the emotional whiplash.

But not all of the choices are as successful. The Winter’s Tale has the distinction of owning the prototypical bloodthirsty bear, who pursues and mauls Antigonus (Stephen Patrick Martin) as he deposits the helpless Perdita in the woods. Woodard’s production opts to evoke the bear solely through lighting effects and projection, rather than with an actor in a bear costume. It came as something of a surprise that, with the bold stylization of both the serious first act and whimsical second act, the most droll element of the play was given but three flashes of light in this production. Given the ensemble’s liberal use of the middle aisle and other areas of the house to immerse the audience, the omission of the bear’s physical representation left this reviewer wondering why it went understated.

But this downplayed sequence is soon forgotten in the wake of strong performances across the cast. As Hermione, Crowe-Legacy is a stately and sincere queen, making Leontes’ rejection of her all the more baffling and heartbreaking. Kate Eastwood Norris is both entertaining as a dancing Bohemian and deeply moving as a devoted Paulina (her delivery of one of the play’s most memorable lines, “it is a heretic that makes the fire, not she which burns in it,” inspires chills). And as the mischievous Autolycus, Reza Salazar enchants the audience with call-and-response and expert delivery of the character’s extended missives.

Despite its quirks, The Winter’s Tale offers a warm welcome for audiences returning to the Folger Shakespeare Library, which has undergone significant renovations since March 2020. The building’s ground floor entrance and lobby area are done over in concrete that evokes cool modernism and the iconic Brutalism visible in parts of downtown Washington. But upon ascending to the upper level and entering into the wood and stone Tudor theater, patrons may feel instantly transported across centuries and locales from Washington to Elizabethan London — or perhaps, for the time being at least, from Sicily to Bohemia. In this new building that embraces the contrasting styles of the historical and the modern, The Winter’s Tale, with its own stark contrasts, may be just the right choice for the Folger’s fresh start.

Grief tests Black women’s friendship in ‘Long Time Since Yesterday’ at Howard

by Whit Davis

This article was originally published in DC Theater Arts, here.

What happens when life doesn’t turn out as planned? What happens when the promise of always being friends is fractured? Why does it take grief to make us realize what we have? Long Time Since Yesterday by P.J. Gibson, directed by theater student Naynna Hollins, explores these questions through the friendship between six Black women brought back together by a tragic death. The Howard Players revitalize a lesser-known but essential play for their Next Up! Play Festival featuring student-led productions that spotlight the developing artists of the Department of Theatre at Howard University in the Al Freeman Jr. Environmental Theatre Space.

The death of Jeneen (Emil White) reunites college classmates Laveer (senior Jazmine Manfrum), Babbs (Jadah Evelyn Clay), Thelma (Nadira Davis), Panzi (Rebecca Celeste), and Alisa (senior Jayson Roman Broadnax). We find the group gathered together in the home Jeneen shared with her husband. As they reminisce and reflect on who she was or who they thought she was, her suicide unearths deeply held hurts as Babbs admits that she has felt at her lowest despite possessing beauty that people associate with happiness and desirability. She drinks and pacifies herself with jokes and humor, which acts as the thread line through a heartwrenching story. Like Jeneen, Babbs is lonely. Thelma feels ugly despite her achievements. Alisa believes her braggadocious verbosity about her husband and her success cover up her lost sense of self. Panzi is too busy projecting her anger at Laveer to hold space for her feelings about being misunderstood. And Laveer boasts of being a free-spirited artist who is without rooted connections.

Through flashbacks, we learn that the friendship was the strongest between Laveer and Jeneen, but after graduation, a conflict between Laveer and Panzi caused a rift between Jeneen and Laveer. A friendship they both promised would last forever is torn apart. Years later the death of Jeneen’s father brings them back together, back to their promise. The interwoven flashbacks reveal secrets between Jeneen and Panzi, and Jeneen and her husband. The transitions between the flashbacks and the present have perfect timing and are clearly defined so that the story never loses its rhythm, and the audience easily follows the timeline. When the lights dim on the cast, we know we enter a flashback as the spotlight hovers above Jeneen to give her a ghost-like presence.

Who was Jeneen? This question becomes a focal point as each friend except Panzi believes her to be innocent, shy, and childlike. They made little room for her to be big, imperfect, sad, and a 30-something-year-old woman with needs. In an intimate conversation with Laveer, Jeneen reveals the haunting of judgmental voices in her head. She may have lived a life she never truly wanted, while her friends are left to grapple with this truth.

The tension as thick as fog on a crisp fall morning fills the home between Laveer and Panzi until it drowns everyone, and the only way to make it to the surface is to swallow the bitterness of truth. This climatic moment reveals secrets that were ultimately too heavy for Jeneen to live with. These secrets are too heavy for even the living to deal with.

The cast does a fantastic job wrestling with themes of grief, love, and identity in an intimately set black box theater with minimal set design and carefully placed props like a couch and a bookshelf. White’s performance seems to pull from a personal place deep within as she honors Jeneen’s pain. She captures the rollercoaster of emotions felt by Jeneen, moving from joy to despair. Her tears and facial expressions can easily be another character in the story. Celeste’s presence is powerful. With each line she recites, they land eloquently and with ease. She becomes Panzi. Clay has remarkable comedic timing as Babbs. A play this heavy needs humor, and she delivers. The entire cast surrenders to the story.

The Howard Players productions are invaluable because they provide an opportunity for students to explore their talents and gifts. They share them with a community that believes in pursuing art as serious, rigorous, and meaningful work. To be nurtured in a space that values Black stories, Black storytellers, and Black spaces prepares these artists for a career where they may be the only ones. But they will not shrink; they will bloom.

Transgender Massage Therapists Share Tips On How to Find LGBTQ+ Friendly Services

By Abby Stuckrath

This article was originally published in Tagg Magazine, here.

LGBTQ+ massage therapists are creating new spaces for queer and transgender patients to feel not just accepted but seen. As practitioners work to craft gender-affirming spaces, there are multiple tactics that LBGTQ+ clients can use to ensure adequate care. 

Frances Reed, a massage therapist and educator in Washington, D.C. is teaching a new generation of LGBTQ+ inclusive practitioners, as well as leading medical research behind chest binding health. 

Washington D.C. is the only state or district that requires LGBTQ+ competency training for massage therapy licensure, says Reed. Anyone not living in the D.C., is left with the burden of educating therapists on transgender and queer care. 

Reed teaches that long-term binder compression can cause upper chest and back pain, as well as other serious health issues such as shortness of breath and loss of sensation in arms or fingers. Massaging the chest area can help mitigate chronic pain and significantly increase quality of life for binding individuals. 

To make sure that transmasc and genderqueer folks are receiving adequate care, Reed suggests bringing their binders to the session. 

“Some massage therapists don’t know what a binder really is,” says Reed. “So they imagine something that is not usually accurate, and that will affect how they might go about treating pain that you’re having from binding.” 

Thomas Lavi, a transgender massage therapist based in Oakland, California, says those recovering from postoperative top surgery, must discuss their physical limitations or recovery methods with their therapists. 

“Often your range of motion is limited to the parallel with your shoulder, you wouldn’t wanna stretch someone up above their head,” says Lavi. 

Again, Lavi stresses that many practitioners won’t be familiar with these limitations, so patients must be prepared to educate them on the main protocols of post-operative care. 

For those unable to access an LGBTQ+ specialist, Lavi says there are three things to do and look for when looking for an inclusive therapist: check their vibe, check their license, and make sure they respect draping and clothing techniques. 

“You have the autonomy to wear anything that you want and any trained massage therapist should be able to work with articles of clothing,” says Lavi. “That’s totally okay. It shouldn’t affect the impact of the massage and if they tell you that it does, they’re lying and you shouldn’t work with them.”

Reed says that gender affirming therapy offices don’t just accept transgender existence but make transgender clients feel seen and heard.

“When spaces understand what it is to be trans in the world socially, what it is to be in a transitioning body, are comfortable talking about bodies in language that de-emphasizes gender; you’ve actually created an actively affirming space, not just a space without discrimination or harassment,” shares Reed. 

For those concerned about cost, Reed says that transgender and queer therapists often offer a sliding scale or scholarship system. 

“It’s hard to be really focused on queer and trans community and not see the economic disparity that exists and so most of us tend to respond to that with some kind of financial model that allows for support of people who can’t afford the full rate,” says Reed. 

Since many massage therapists lack in-depth knowledge of transgender and queer care, Lavi and Reed suggest finding an LGBTQ+ massage specialist. 

“We’re having to teach our doctors what it is to be trans, what it means and what we need and that’s why it’s so special to have a trans therapist who can take that load from you,” says Lavi.