This is Drama Masks, a Bay Area performing arts column from a born San Franciscan and longtime theatre artist in an N95 mask. I talk venue safety and dramatic substance, or the lack thereof.
My first 48 Hills gala was a bit surreal, and not in a typical SF way. There was a “calm-before-the-storm” feeling that lurked in the background of all the revelry. That was the same day we’d heard that the feds were on their way to Alameda. After 10 months of puffed-chest threats, the fight we’d been dreading was about to come to our door.
Until it didn’t. The next day, as brave protestors were being callously run over and a third of the White House was being bulldozed, our very own Mayor Danny Denim broke months of deafening silence to boot-lick our despot-in-chief. Of course, it was the further boot-licking by dildo-shaped-building guy that actually made a difference. A few rich white men had to sweet-talk another rich white man in order to stop the latter from his latest totalitarian act (for now, anyway).
In-between that was the gala. The vibe at El Rio was congratulatory for having survived another year mixed with a determination to win the upcoming fight. Cat Brooks’ speech was full of sobering notes about the pain that could be caused, while highlighting something that’s been proven true through Compton’s to the Black Panthers to countless protests before and after: “The Bay don’t play.”
One week later, I write these words knowing my regular food bank will soon be swarmed with newbies who used to depend on SNAP benefits. I know that this current temporary reprieve won’t last forever. And I know that the Bay Area is one of the few places where the proletariat are prepared. We’re used to being targeted, attacked, and abandoned. Yet, it’s always us who outlive our attackers. I’m glad I got out to El Rio to see Marke and Tim (even though I didn’t stay too long to chat), hear Cat and Dean Preston, and rub elbows with our should-be-mayor Aaron Peskin.
I went there feeling uncertain. I left feeling vindicated.
Suffs at the Orpheum
A third of the White House was being destroyed during the opening night for Suffs (through November 9 at the Orpheum, SF). That made Shaina Taub’s award-winning musical feel like it had been written just for us. After all, its marginalized central characters push back against discrimination from old white men. More than that: The show’s central theme is that if you aren’t radicalized, you don’t care.
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It begins in 1913, with National American Woman Suffrage Association president Carrie Catt (Marya Grandy) follows her predecessor Susan B. Anthony’s lead of politely asking for the right to let women vote. That’s not enough for young Alice Paul (Maya Keleher), who flat out states “I don’t want to have to compromise”. She wants public demonstrations to grab attention and confrontational acts to get legislation passed. In short, she wants to be someone who can’t be ignored.
What truly works in the narrative of Suffs is its dramatization of the conflicting ideologies of movement: Catt is understandably offended to be thought of as obsolete by the younger Paul, but Ida B. Wells (Danyel Fulton) personifies Paul’s hypocrisy for not extending to Black women the very equality she seeks. It’s a refreshingly nuanced portrayal that refuses to paint anyone as fully righteous or evil (save for Jenny Ashman as Birth of a Nation-lovin’Woodrow Wilson). The only time it doesn’t work is in casting Brandi Porter as Dudley, Wilson’s chief of staff. Casting a Black actor, as good as she is, in the role breaks the verisimilitude of the pre-Civil Rights Era setting.
Having said that, the cast of this touring production brought the fire on opening night. Suffs is most certainly a post-Hamilton play, but unlike the cast of last year’s rather mid production of that show, this cast injects their roles with right amount of energy to hold the audience’s attention during every catchy, Taub-penned line. You want these characters to succeed and are inspired whenever they come close.
It was equally a relief to see that the Orpheum’s top-notch HVAC kept CO² levels on my Aranet4 no higher than 783ppm during the two-act show. The play doesn’t mention the 1918 Influenza, but both that and the suffrage movement lead to life-saving changes that most of us take for granted todays. Yet, those are the very advantages currently under attack. If the audiences of Suffs leave with any one idea, it’s that a righteous fight isn’t just worth taking on, it’s worth winning.
SUFFS runs through November 9 at the Orpheum Theatre, SF. Tickets and further info here.
Spanish Stew world premiere at NCTC
Local treasure Marga Gomez started the final preview of Spanish Stew (world premiere through November 23 at NCTC, SF) recalling about speaking to friends who’d moved out of the US. They’d been saving for the move for years. She confesses that if she’d known the country would soon slide into dictatorship, she might have followed them.
Instead, she holds court in the New Conservatory Theatre Center to tell of her last big move: When the queer, Puerto Rican-Cuban child of entertainers left her New York home to move with her then-girlfriend to San Francisco. It’s the 1970s, and Marga finds herself in an OZ-like world of hippies, homos, and a helluva lotta weed.
After unexpectedly performing Aurora Theatre’s swan song, Gomez is back to the self-deprecating biography stories that are her trademark. She mines a lot of hilarious material from both contemporary relationship woes (“If three lesbians walk into a room and lock the door, one of them’s a therapist”) to the bizarre shock to the system of arriving in old SF (she heads to the Castro expecting good Cuban food only to wind up eating a tuna melt).
Yet, what makes the show most relatable and reassuring is the way it strips away the shame of being an artist (or activist) who takes on other jobs to, y’know, not starve. The show’s title comes from the anglicization of the family recipe she winds up making for a Noe Valley restaurant where she works. It keeps a roof over her head and provides inspiration for this play. In short, it’s a survival technique that she spins into gold. Most of us do that balancing act on a daily basis, and it’s comforting to see that struggle represented accurately and amusingly.
With our local raconteur spinning such a vivid tale half-a-century later, it’s good to know that the HVAC of the Walker theatre kept CO² levels no higher than 1,024ppm during the two-act show. After all, the show is about Marga living through a crazy time in order to tell about it later. We can only hope she’s around to tell more in the future.
SPANISH STEW runs through November 23 at the New Conservatory Theatre Center, SF. Tickets and further info here.
Pilgrimage world premiere by Golden Thread
If there’s any one strike against Humaira Ghilzai and Bridgette Dutta Portman’s Pilgrimage (world premiere through November 9 at Z Space, SF), it’s that its need to keep the audience informed bloats its running time. Although the quintet portrayed in the show are Muslims (with varying degrees of piety), the script spends a lot of time explaining several words and phrases that might be unfamiliar to a “Western” (read “Judeo-Christian-influenced”) audience. It’s good that the authors wanted to provide clarity, but it frequently feels like pulling over to see the sites when they can be pointed out while driving.
Still, the trip itself is captivating. It follows five women (four Afghan-American, one Black American) on their Hajj to Mecca, both as Islamic rite and as the final wish of a dear loved one who recently passed. The show is an enlightening look at cultural sexism, generational disparity, and identity crises. As directed by Michelle Talgarow, the five all feel multi-dimensional because they aren’t written to fit into the mold of “perfection” that often haunts portrayals of marginalized groups. These women are as flawed as they are self-assured, often chastising one another (or themselves) for not living up to that vaunted level. It’s a reminder that the image of ourselves we hold in our mind can’t be matched by harsh realities.
Shout-out to set designer Mikiko Uesugi for blending fantasy and reality so seamlessly. Her set not only makes ample use of negative space, but her later representation of the Kaaba was inspired in its simplicity. (Z Space being the large factory that it is, CO² levels peaked only around 758ppm during the two-hour show.) Though contemporary, Pilgrimage seems to exist out of time to tell its story. In any case, it’s a fascinating, if a long, one.
PILGRIMAGE runs through November 9 at Z Space, SF. Tickets and further info here.
