When playwright Brian Pope first heard about a restaurant called Tallywackers, he knew there was a story in the making. The concept for the now-defunct Dallas, Tex.-based restaurant was an all-male or “reverse” Hooters. Instead of buxom women, scantily-clad men served drinks and “abb-itizers” to ogling diners — a so-called “chestaurant” to match 40 years of breastaurants.
After generating worldwide buzz when it opened in 2015, Tallywackers mysteriously closed after just one year, further piquing Pope’s interest.
“It just was this myth of a place that burned bright and then was gone,” Pope tells Pittsburgh City Paper. “But the idea always kept in my mind … wow, what [was] that like? What were those people thinking who worked there, who [went] there?”
Himbos, premiering at the New Hazlett Theater on Thurs., Oct. 26 for a three-show run, follows the staff at a fictional shirtless restaurant as they “navigate the perils of friendships, romance, and even karaoke,” according to a press release. They play kicks off the New Hazlett’s 2023/2024 Community Supported Art performance series, now in its 11th season, which supports artists developing new work. Pope builds the “saucy service industry dramedy” around a core group of four employees, an homage to characters from his favorite sitcoms including The Golden Girls and Living Single — even Desperate Housewives.
“They all have a type or point of view that they embody… and [there’s] fun and comedy seeing how they bounce off of each other,” he says.
Part of the charm of the play for Pope was playing with contrasts, exploring the line between the universal parts of working as a server at any restaurant, and those unique to working at a gender-flipped Hooters. (Pope notes this isn’t an accurate analog anyway; unlike Hooters, the real-life Tallywackers catered to a broader, more mixed-gender clientele of gay men and straight women.)
One could also draw comparisons to Chippendales, the male striptease revue (and subject of a recent Emmy-nominated miniseries).
“What is this line between a dining experience [versus] a more entertainment, dancer, sex work experience?” Pope asks. “[It’s] certainly more innuendo-laden than other places.”
But for the most part, he tells City Paper “it’s a very traditional dining experience that just has this sort of cherry on top of these guys walking around with not a lot of clothes on.” For example, servers still “do the embarrassing birthday song” overheard at many restaurants, and during his research on Tallywackers, he found kid’s menus and highchairs on offer.
Above all, Pope says, the commonality of any food service work is that it’s grueling and “you can’t really shy away from what it takes to be on your feet, deal with people, and carry around all the food and drinks.”
In discussions with Himbos director Shannon Knapp — a frequent collaborator of Pope’s — they wanted the play to reflect the “rigor” and physical demands of service work, so they created scenes where actors roll silverware, sweep floors, and wipe down tables. Pope also credits the “energy and creativity” of the play’s cast and crew in interpreting the characters and realizing the look and feel of the “raucous” restaurant.
Pope drew inspiration from his own experiences working at the (now also-defunct) Quiznos on Craig Street. Another universal of working in a restaurant borne of long hours and demanding customers, he believes, is found family.
“You just sort of naturally bond with the people that see more than the people in your life. It’s a weird thing,” he says. “You cope together. … You have a language and a set of stories that no one else really understands.”
And then, at the fictional Himbos restaurant, “to also be shirtless on top of that,” Pope adds. “That’s always [an] asterisk, which is very fun.”
Ultimately, he intends for the show to be “joyful and fun and silly.”
“The world is burning,” Pope says. “It’s my hope with all my work to make people laugh and escape for a little bit. I like to bring some light, even if it’s something as random as this.”
Your Play Comes with a Side of Consensual Male Objectification in Brian Pope’s Restaurant Romp, Himbos
by Vanessa Reseland
The 2023–2024 Community Supported Art (CSA) Season is about to begin! I interviewed our first playwright of the season, and before I go any further, I would like to share the first question of our conversation:
Vanessa Reseland: Can you tell me a little bit about the overall concept of your show?
Brian Pope: Himbos is a workplace comedy about a restaurant staffed by beautiful men who wear tiny clothes.
You have our attention.
Brian Pope serves up the first show of this season with his saucy comedy about the service industry with a twist. He told me about the inspiration for this tale of hospitality hijinks, shame-free sexuality, and found family. Imagine the relationship dynamics and innuendo of a show like Cheers meets the spirit and wardrobe of Magic Mike. If that piques your interest (how could it not?), read on for more of our interview.
Himbos has three showings, Thursday, October 26 at 8 PM and Friday, October 27 at 10 AM & 8 PM. Tickets range from $20–$30 and are available at https://newhazletttheater.org/events/himbos/.
VR: As the playwright, when you sat down at a blank page, why did this story pour out of you?
BP: This play came from a real restaurant that existed in real life. It was inspired by Hooters, obviously, and it was consciously flipping the script. It was in Dallas, Texas. Tallywackers was the name of the restaurant. You know, of course it was. It was all over the news…because it was just a hilarious thing where there were men who were wearing short shorts or tank tops just like they do at Hooters. I was really drawn to the joy that was present in everything I read; everyone was having a good time there. The patrons, obviously, were very excited about it, and the guys too just really loved it. They enjoyed the attention, and like, there are worse ways to make money. It’s hot, waiting tables, so wearing less clothes is also not a bad thing.
VR: I’m sure the outfits help with tips, but they’re still doing a job.
BP: It is hard work standing up on your feet, carrying giant things! They were obviously very strong but still, it’s hard.
VR: So when you watched all these stories about Tallywackers, what resonated with you?
BR: I just thought that was an exciting concept and a great jumping off point for a comedy. How people react, how the guys who work there get ready…what kind of mental math do they have to do to do that kind of work? What were they working there for? Who are the bachelorette parties for? The moms and daughters who come there? And kids! There’s a kids menu! This is a world that I wanna write about. I really love getting to create a place where this was all consensual, and everyone was enjoying it and having a good time, there was no objectification in a bad way. This is honest and we’re talking about it, and I think that’s healthy. Sexuality exists, and it’s a good thing and doesn’t have to be you know exploitative or bad. It can be a positive thing that we all partake in that is silly.
VR: In your show, are you able to delve more deeply into these characters’ backgrounds and, for lack of a better word, expose who they are beyond the objectification?
BP: Yeah, they all have unique storylines that sort of overlap in the play. Who is the owner? My version is that a woman owns it, and she used to work at Hooters. She has come and is revamping it based on her own experiences and reclaiming it. That was a very exciting story to tell. We have our romantic lead, Beau, and his rival Mateo, who is a bartender. There is a karaoke number that is a big, romantic gesture that is going to be showstopping. There are characters who are in a love triangle, one who has a baby he’s trying to support. We get to know who they are and how they come together. It was my nod to those groups of four in lots of TV shows, like The Golden Girls and Friends.
VR: “Found family” is a term for people who meet and care for each other like family but are not blood related. I have heard you use this term to describe characters in this play. Can you tell me a little bit about what found family means to you?
BP: Found family is one of my favorite things to write about because I am such a product of it in my life. I came to Pittsburgh for college, and that’s where I found my tribe doing theater at school. It’s people who think the same way you do, who you just gel with naturally, and it’s such a magical thing. For these guys [in Himbos], it is the bonding of, like, look at this crazy thing that happened today, this thing that no one else in their lives understands and also how they’re all different, they all complement each other.
VR: Is there anything you want to say about the importance of sharing queer storylines in the theatre and in Pittsburgh?
BP: My life is a queer storyline. It just comes naturally. So many people identify with what I’m writing. These storylines are everywhere now. They’re on TV. They’re on stage. Musicians are openly queer and singing about that. It’s great to offer queer characters that are relatable, that are flawed, that are really silly, that are mean sometimes, that don’t always do the right thing, but that we can identify with, and we can relate to. We know what they’re going through and, like, that’s just another part of their identity. It’s not the thing. And in this setting, it is not just women who are coming to see these men. Everyone is coming to see these men, let’s be real. The funny thing is that the reverse Hooters was pitched just like, “Oh, this is for women.” It was for men. Just like Hooters was for men. It’s great that women are there and able to participate, too. They should, they deserve it, but I think that is a thing that is powerful about the queer community, that we are getting to a place where we can talk about that and live in that fully, and I love writing about that.
VR: So do you have an ideal audience for this show? Who should come and see it?
BP: Everyone. Everyone should come, but specifically I just want people who are ready to have a good time. There’s so much craziness going on in the world, but I want my play to be an escape from their issues. It’s a comedy. I want people to laugh. I want people to smile. My greatest hope is that people feel good when they leave, that they feel like, “What did I just watch??” but it the best way.
Himbos runs at the New Hazlett Theatre October 26th at 8pm and October 27 at 10am and 8pm
Himbos Written by Brian Pope
Director: Shannon Knapp
Set Designer: Tucker Topel
Costumer: Claudia Brownlee
Lighting Designer: Rianne Lindsey
Sound Designer: Parag Gohel
The cast includes: Tyler Ray Kendrick, Dylan Meyers, Gayle Pazerski, Zachariah Washington, Victor Aponte, José Pérez IV, and Michael Zolovich.
Editorial: Pittsburgh’s diverse theater scene needs post-pandemic support
THE EDITORIAL BOARD
Pittsburgh Post-Gazette
August Wilson, one of America’s greatest playwrights, grew up in the Hill District and set most of his plays here. In Oakland, Carnegie Mellon offers one of the best drama programs in the country. City Theatre and the Pittsburgh Public are a one-two punch of regional theater excellence. The city has too many small acting companies to count. Most of our high schools put on a musical every year, culminating in the Gene Kelly Awards. And every Broadway tour stops in Pittsburgh.
Pittsburgh is a theater town. But our theaters are hurting.
In the New York Times, writer Isaac Butler recently chronicled the abrupt closing or downsizing of regional theatres and theatre festivals across the country, caused by shrinking subscriber bases, the pandemic’s effect on audiences and resulting rising ticket prices. Clare Drobot, one of City Theatre’s Co-Artistic Directors, told a Post-Gazette editorial writer that City lost close to 40% of their audience over the 18 months they had to shut down. “We’re still in recovery,” she said, facing the same “industry-wide challenges” as other local theaters.
Thankfully, another Pittsburgh tradition is the city’s commitment to philanthropy. The city’s foundation community with be essential to the renewed flourishing of the theater scene. While the city government’s efforts to support art and drama have stalled, Allegheny County has stepped up in the form of Regional Asset District grants to local theater organizations such as Dreams of Hope, Front Porch Theatricals, Kelly Strayhorn Theater, New Hazlett Theater, New Horizon Theater, the Pittsburgh Civic Light Opera, Pittsburgh Musical Theater, Pittsburgh Playwrights Company, Quantum Theatre and the Saltworks Theatre Company, among others.
But an infusion of cash, while helpful, doesn’t make up for the absence of an audience. No acting company wants to play to an empty house. It’s time for Pittsburghers to show up for, and at, our theaters. Luckily, there’s no shortage of Pittsburgh-related performances to see this season.
There’s “South Side Stories,” one of the upcoming shows at City, in which local star Tami Dixon revisits her 2012 one-woman show, telling new tales from the neighborhood. Or, at the Public this fall, there’s “Billy Strayhorn: Something to Live For,” a new musical about the Homewood-raised composer. Or, if you hurry, you can catch Joe Turner’s “Come and Gone” at the Pittsburgh Playwrights Theatre Company before it closes in September.
Or maybe you don’t care about a Pittsburgh connection, but would enjoy “Evil Dead, the Musical” (at Pittsburgh Musical Theatre in October), or the operatic work One-Log Bridge, which explores immigration at the New Hazlett in December. Or maybe one of the dozens of other shows around town this season is right for you.
The theater is a place to find community — somewhere it’s okay to laugh, cry and feel together. Our theaters, big and tiny, need us in their seats, this season. And we need them.
New Hazlett Theater Announces 11th Season of Community Supported Art
(Pittsburgh, PA) June 13, 2023— The New Hazlett Theater is pleased to announce its 11th Season of Community Supported Art (CSA), showcasing five premiere performances from Pittsburgh-based artists. Running from October 2023 to April 2024, The New Hazlett CSA Season 11 offers a broad range of productions, including opera, dance, theater and a multi-disciplinary experience.
“As we enter into our 11th year of CSA programming, I continue to be impressed with the breadth of talent and creativity in our region,” says New Hazlett Theater Executive Director René Conrad. “This year’s artists, and their respective works, represent a variety of creative mediums, cultures, and storytelling styles. It’s as much a professional pleasure to present to our patrons as it is a personal joy to help facilitate bringing new work by Pittsburgh artists to life.”
Each year the CSA Performance Series supports five emerging Pittsburgh artists as they develop a new work for the New Hazlett stage. The artists selected for the 2023/24 season share a common talent for groundbreaking creativity.
2023/2024 Season Lineup:
Himbos
A new play by Brian Pope
A service industry saga that puts the fun in dysfunctional.
October 26, 2023 – 8pm
October 26, 2023 – 10am & 8pm
One-Log Bridge
A new opera theatre work by Yan Pang
One-Log Bridge uses the beauty of the voice to explore immigration, race and resilience.
December 7, 2023 – 8pm
December 8, 2023 – 10am & 8pm
Teaira Whitehead
A play by Melannie Taylor
A powerful exploration of relationships, crime, and racial injustice.
February 15, 2024 – 8pm
February 16, 2024 – 10am & 8pm
UNDERLAND x Alice
Dance theater by Kontara Morphis
A journey of self-realization, visibility, and discovery seen through the lens of the African Diaspora.
March 21, 2024 – 8pm
March 22, 2024 – 10am & 8pm
Apis
A multi-disciplinary experience by Lindsay Goranson
A mind-bending performance that is equal parts science, cinema and theater, starring the last creature on earth.
April 18, 2024 – 8pm
April 19, 2024 – 10am & 8pm
“Storytellers plant the seeds of change, but organizations like The New Hazlett are where they grow.” says CSA Season 11’s Lindsay Goranson. “The CSA is a great opportunity to collaborate with other silos of knowledge working on making Pittsburgh a more sustainable city.”
The cast of Painting Lesson by Jasmine Roth, part of New Hazlett’s CSA Season 10. Photography by Renee Rosensteel
“I believe that the process of creating a new play from the literal ground up is the ultimate collaborative pursuit. It takes consistent input, output, and innovation from all parties involved. The support from the CSA program makes space for higher levels of those ingredients,” says CSA Season 11 artist Brian Pope.
Past CSA contributors include hip-hop artist Ys1, choreographer Kaylin Horgan, puppeteer Dave English, and vocalist Anqwenique Wingfield. The New Hazlett Theater’s CSA program provides a platform for creative, diverse artists to mold the future of the arts in Pittsburgh by connecting audiences with new productions that push the boundaries of what a live performance can be.
Subscriptions are available for purchase on the New Hazlett website.
Accessible seating and assistive listening devices are available for all CSA Season 11 productions. Please email Kevin Rabbits with any questions.
Meet the Artists
Brian Pope (he/him) writes plays, writes about plays, watches plays and TV, and talks constantly about all things pop culture on and off the internet. As an artist, Brian’s work centers on the values of joy and collaboration, while aiming to pay forward the sense of community he found pursuing his passion.
Yan Pang (she/they) is a composer, performer, and scholar. She is a visiting assistant professor of music at Point Park University. She received her Ph.D. in Music with a minor in Theater Arts & Dance at the University of Minnesota. Her work focuses on intercultural composition and performance.
Melannie Taylor (she/they) is a playwright dedicated to creating characters with heart and authenticity; holding space and reverence for Black people in America seeking healing and justice. As an artist, Melannie focuses on the intersection of art and activism, and is committed to the inclusion, protection, and upliftment of the black community.
Kontara Morphis (she/her) is a choreographer creating thought-provoking, emotionally resonant, and visually stunning dance pieces. Kontara is Artistic Director of K-Theatre Dance Complex and lends her talents to many other area organizations. Kontara believes dance has the power to communicate complex ideas and emotions in a way that words cannot.
Lindsay Goranson (she/they) is a writer, performer, interdisciplinary theater-maker, and relentlessly curious human. They create impactful experiences in pursuit of social change and prioritize minimizing the environmental impact of dynamic live experiences.
About The New Hazlett Theater
The New Hazlett Theater is a non-profit performing arts center that creates dynamic art through innovation and collaboration. We provide vital resources to creators from diverse backgrounds to enrich our cultural community.
www.newhazletttheater.org
PHOTO COURTESY PITTSBURGH BOTANIC GARDEN
The Allegheny Regional Asset District is funding projects that will open up experiences to the broader public.
by Abby Yoder
Sensory-friendly performances, websites that are better adapted for people with visual or hearing issues, concert programs in Braille and purchases of all-terrain wheelchairs to navigate outdoor pathways.
These are among 10 local cultural projects that will be funded with more than $415,000 by the Allegheny Regional Asset District to foster more accessibility and inclusion for patrons.
More than 1 in 4 adults in Pennsylvania have a disability, ranging from mobility and cognitive impairments to hearing and vision difficulties, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.
Over three decades, RAD has provided financial support for public facilities and cultural organizations in Allegheny County. With half of the proceeds from the county’s 1 percent sales and use tax, RAD has invested more than $2 billion into regional assets, including libraries, parks and trails, sports facilities, public transit and more.
“We’re excited to see that organizations are taking this opportunity to see where they can be more accessible and welcoming,” said RAD Executive Director Rich Hudic. “We want to ensure that these places are open to and enjoyable by everyone.”
Here are the organizations receiving the project grants:
Allegheny County Parks ($90,000) will soon make the Vale of Cashmere Trail in South Park more accessible in compliance with the Americans with Disabilities Act. The parks will install an 800-foot accessible trail, pave the parking lot and add ADA spaces, put in seating at the entrance of the Vale and add an ADA-compliant footbridge. The project is expected to be completed by summer 2024, with Allegheny County Parks paying $93,804 towards its completion.
New Hazlett Theater ($75,000) will upgrade its ramp entrance into the lobby to include a concrete walkway, 10 new walkway lights and an automatic door opener at the North Side theater. Additionally, more seating accommodations will be made. These improvements are expected to be completed in time for the fall 2023 season.
Pittsburgh Glass Center ($75,000) in Friendship is replacing its elevator and extending it to the third floor as part of its $15 million expansion project set to conclude by summer 2024. The new installation will also feature a set of doors for added accessibility. Additionally, the center will be installing a wheelchair lift at the entrance.
SLB Radio ($35,000) is improving its website for people with visual or hearing impairments and adding voice navigation. New studio equipment will also be purchased, allowing individual adjustments for microphones and headphones.
Pittsburgh CLO ($35,000) is set to showcase a sensory-friendly rendition of “A Musical Christmas Carol” in December while also providing complimentary tickets for families with children who have disabilities. This comes after the CLO’s successful pilot of a sensory-friendly performance of the same show last year.
WQED ($30,000) in Oakland is revamping its website with ADA enhancements. These updates will improve navigation and accessibility, allowing more individuals to access podcasts and other content.
Radiant Hall, Brew House and Associated Artists ($28,500) have joined forces to enhance the accessibility of their respective websites in accordance with ADA guidelines.
River City Brass ($28,102) has planned a two-step accessibility project to enhance their website to meet compliance standards and produce Braille programs for their concerts.
Pittsburgh Botanic Garden ($13,985) plans to purchase three all-terrain wheelchairs — one for adults and two for juniors — to enable greater accessibility on their outdoor walkways this summer.
Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra ($5,000) by September, plans to add three water fountains that are ADA compliant. One will be located on each level of Heinz Hall, while another will be placed backstage.
“In the 32 years since the enactment of the Americans with Disabilities Act, our regional assets have made great strides in improving experiences for people of all abilities. But we cannot stay stagnant,” said board members Daniel Rosen and Kendra Janelle Ross in RAD’s Project Review Committee report.
NEA awards $285,000 in grants to Pittsburgh arts organizations
by Jeremy Reynolds
The U.S. federal government spends significantly less on the country’s arts and humanities than some of its European neighbors.
There are pros and cons to this. Opponents of the National Endowment for the Arts argue that the government should not be in the business of taste making and cite research suggesting that state subsidies actually homogenize the arts due to individuals and organizations adjusting their output to secure funding.
Proponents of arts grants argue that the U.S. government should invest in its arts and culture sector for economic, community and humanitarian reasons, and cite numerous examples of great and famous art that received state support.
Regardless, under President Biden, the NEA budget has crept up, with a $27 million increase in 2022 for a total of $207 million, or .003% of the federal budget. (There are additional proposed increases for 2023.)
And on Wednesday, the NEA announced grants totaling $103 million to organizations in all states and jurisdictions, including Pittsburgh.
Here is the list of area organizations that received funding:
WQED Multimedia: $30,000 to support the WQED Film Academy, a media arts education program.
Carnegie Mellon University: $25,000 to support LIVE! Art && Code, a lecture and workshop series showcasing artists and practitioners working in new media and interactive design.
Center of Life: $25,000 to support mentorship activities as part of the KRUNK Movement, a music and health initiative for youth.
Pittsburgh Glass Center: $25,000 to support an artist residency program.
Pittsburgh Cultural Trust: $25,000 to support a multidisciplinary arts festival.
Point Park University: $25,000 to support multidisciplinary arts performances, residencies and artist talks at the Pittsburgh Playhouse.
New Hazlett Center for the Performing Arts: $25,000 to support the Community Supported Art residency program.
Society for Contemporary Craft: $25,000 to support the exhibition “Climate Awakening: Crafting a Sustainable Future” at the Society for Contemporary Craft.
Early Music America, Inc. :$20,000 to support the Early Music America Summit, co-hosted by Boston Baroque.
Film Pittsburgh: $20,000 to support Teen Screen, a free digital media literacy program and screening series for middle and high school students.
Greater Pittsburgh Arts Council: $20,000 to support a communications and marketing campaign for arts organizations.
Kelly Strayhorn Theater: $20,000 to support dance presentations at the Kelly Strayhorn Theater.
Jeremy Reynolds: jreynolds@post-gazette.com. His work at the Post-Gazette is supported in part by a grant from the San Francisco Conservatory of Music, Getty Foundation and Rubin Institute.
Morning Reckoning is the Nostalgic Teeny Bopper Comedy Millennials Need Right Now
By Vanessa Reseland
Continuing Recital’s sponsored partnership with the New Hazlett Theater, we are presenting a series of editorially-independent previews and reviews of the 2022–23 Community Supported Art (CSA) Performance Series. Below is our review of Morning Reckoning by Kelly Trumbull, a collaborative response from Vanessa Reseland with guest panelists Ariel Xiu, Marcus Shutrump, and David Bernabo.
The 2022–2023 CSA season at the New Hazlett Theater included much solemn material born of pandemic strife and reflection. Death, illness, suicide, loss, ostracization, and violence were consistent and meaningful themes at the New Hazlett Theater, but the final show of this CSA series, Kelly Trumbull’s Morning Reckoning, was a nostalgic throwback of a romp, gifting much-appreciated laughter and lightness to its audience. Lightness…but not insignificance.
Inspired by Trumbull’s real-life youth, often spent recreating famous, turn-of-the millennia pop performances with her childhood friends, Morning Reckoning is the memory-sparking, cringe-inducing, laugh-out-loud, coming-of-age story of five 8th grade friends in the suburbs of New Jersey in 1999.
Despite the omnipresence of the fictitious, titular boy band called Morning Reckoning, this show is less about boy-crazed, teen zealots (although it’s a little about that), and more about navigating social dynamics for the first time on your own. It’s about holding onto relationships born of proximity then challenged by individual growth. It’s about first friendships, first crushes, and the pain of growing up. It’s also really, really funny.
All female-identifying, relatively middle-class members of the “Morning Reckoning Fan Club,” each character holds their own distinct and recognizable personality.
Kandace is president of the fan club and self-appointed orchestrator of her friends’ social lives. Scenic designer Tucker Topel created Kandace’s ideal 1999 downstairs hideout. It is her family’s basement we inhabit throughout the play. It is her giant blackboard recording the agenda for the next meeting. It’s her childhood relics like the 90s must-have, Little Tikes plastic push pedal car that is discarded to the corner of the basement, taunting us with memories of a once simple childhood and giving way to the hormonal rush of teendom. They’re her beanbag and folding chairs, her plaid couch, her strung Christmas lights, her snacks, her rules, her plans, and she needs everyone to remember this. Somehow, Alex Manalo was able to play the domineering and inflexible Kandace with the balanced strokes of pathos and naive self-centeredness that made her remarkably charming.
Her best friend, Trish, initially a somewhat malleable sidekick but an ever-brewing foil for Kandace, is mild-mannered yet thoughtful. When she can’t attend the Morning Reckoning concert at Madison Square Garden due to her parents’ concerns about unsupervised, NYC public transit, she is shamed by Kandace and pacifies her bullying best friend by pushing off the topic and downplaying her loyalty to her parents. We receive subtle clues about Trish’s sexual orientation as she muses about physical attraction in general: “What makes a body hot?” Her theoretical queerness is met with surprising and relieving acceptance by Kandace, but her interest in a new female student in their grade opens up a new facet of Trish and a new insecurity for Kandace. Beautifully played by Matia Martin, Trish finds her voice as she begins to outgrow not only her allegiance to Morning Reckoningbut to Kandace as well.
The other permanent members of the fan club are the loveable, life-of-the-party team of Sue (Jalina McClarin) and Emily (Mia Kurlfink). Feeling like true best friends with fresh, impulsive banter, the comedically theatrical moments between them feel more like your funniest friends doing bits at a party than actors reciting written jokes. Their joyful personalities and their relationship with each other feel the most reminiscent of relatable youth. In the talk-back, Trumbull discussed one directing approach she used in this rehearsal process called “active analysis.” In short, the actors learn the written piece and then improvise the scene over and over on their feet, getting the roles into their bodies and allowing for more of their instincts to infuse the characters. The duo of Sue and Emily felt like the most clear result of such a method. When directing your own piece, as Kelly Trumbull did with this show, it can be a challenge to let actors take your concept down unforeseen paths, but remaining open-minded proves to be a huge success for Trumbull, as she cast capable actors who brought such fresh originality to their scenes.
April, able to artfully tip-toe around Kandace’s triggers, was played by the adorable Claire Sabatine, who brought an innocence to the role that provided another needed layer to the friend group. She, too, aims to avoid Kandace’s volatility by appeasing her fancies. Whatever April needs to agree with is worth it because of Kandace’s bubbling fragility and likelihood to yell at them, so she is protecting both her and themselves. It is a survival strategy.
The only way for an audience to understand their adoration for the band and their connection to each other is to hear the music to which they pledge their allegiance. Original pop pieces, written and recorded by Addi Twig and Brad Stephenson, play throughout the show, providing hilariously witty energy. (We await the accompanying soundtrack — will it only be available on CD?!). Sound design by Samantha Magill hit every note perfectly. The choreography by Alex Manalo (yes, Kandace!) was spot-on in the most perfectly tongue-in-cheek meets completely sincere 90s kind of way. Watching these friends dance and lip-sync their hearts out glorified the enthusiastic bond of mutually stimulated youth.
Many people flinch at their middle school recollections. It is painful to revisit blocked memories of confusion, guilt, and disappointment, of the earliest betrayals inflicted upon us, and the betrayals we inflict, of self-consciousness, insecurity, and ignorance. Seeing this play lit up neural pathways from youth, otherwise hard to access. As we reflect on these “firsts,” we cringe at the feelings that were so mighty at the time but in hindsight can feel out of place and even manufactured. At the same time, the curation of world-wide cultural brands like *NSYNC, Backstreet Boys, or Britney Spears were, indeed, manufactured for us to go on these passionate, hormonal journeys. What emotional responses can possibly be authentic within the plasticity of market-targeted adolescence?
Morning Reckoningis the catalyst for the club’s enthusiasm and angst. Their images adorn the set on posters, pillows, and scrap books. The depictions of the boy band at the center of this production were admittedly and brilliantly image-generated by AI. None of the “boys” are or were ever real human people. It somehow adds another layer to the examined ridiculousness of celebrity worship. But could there be something developmentally worthwhile in Kandace’s delusional love for the lead singer, “Brandon Brixton?” To have a crush on a celebrity is to have a crush on a projection of someone who cannot reject you. It’s the reason adults in otherwise monogamous relationships still sometimes give themselves a celebrity “hall pass.” For a young teenager, unfamiliar with the world of romance, this is essential practice at having romantic feelings for someone. The emotions may be real, the imagination may be powerful, but it can never end because it never was.
Kandace’s reliable projection is confronted, though, when Brandon attempts suicide, which Kandace finds out through entertainment news. This “betrayal” hits her hard and comes out in one of the greatest, most ironic lines of the play, “It’s almost like I don’t know him at all!”
Personality types like Kandace’s can be very alluring. Leadership skills are common in such a dynamic and attractive personality, and to feel accepted by them is to feel special, hand-picked, elite, but with that, there is an often accompanying impulsiveness and lack of empathy. Seeing any remote criticism as a personal attack. For example, when Emily, in reference to a squabble between Kandace and Trish, diplomatically states, “I see both sides.” Kandace hears something much different, responding with, “Are you saying I’m a bad person?!”
Julia Kreutzer played the newest “should-be, would-be, could-be” member of the fan club, Nadia. Ignorant to all things Morning Reckoning, Nadia is an import from Indianapolis, where she was living on the grunge side of 90s music. A new connection with Trish brought her to a club meeting with the intention of making some new friends and exploring her relationship with Trish. While the other members of the club are welcoming and happy to indulge the newbie, Kandace fumes.
All Kandace offers her guest is uncomfortable banter, rude comments, and passive aggressive bullying. Amid a whispered, “I’m sorry” from Trish, Kandace finally erupts, shouting for Nadia to leave. Trish finally reaches her breaking point and takes a stand against her supposed best friend, erupting with a painful, “Nobody likes you!” It is a comeuppance that seems almost too harsh until Kandace makes a move nobody seemed to expect. As Nadia ascends the stairs to exit the basement, Kandace screams while bolting up the handful of steps to yank Nadia to the ground. Expertly choreographed by Jose Perez IV, Nadia hits her head and falls to the ground, lying motionless for several moments before a blackout.
At this point, some of us wondered if Nadia was dead, but most of us decided that a tonal departure of that magnitude was unlikely given the show we had seen up until that point. The panel eventually landed on the interpretation that the act of violence itself had crossed such a line that there would be dire consequences. The fractioning of these relationships after such an unwarranted affront would likely dismantle the club and send each character down their next, individual path toward adulthood. Their collective story is effectively over.
The blackout could have been a dramatic ending to the show, but what followed felt like the initiation of a new scene. We open on Kandace, crying alone in the same basement in a moment of her own reckoning. However, what quickly followed was a surreal epilogue, free of dialogue. A hellish and shadowy red glow by lighting designer, Hope Debelius, suddenly eclipsed the stage. Soon, each member of the MRfan club reentered, reuniting for a final lip sync/dance performance, including Nadia and the production’s swing, Gabby Castrodad. It was a sequence more closely resembling a scene from Twin Peaks than Girls Just Wanna Have Fun. It evoked the image of “rolling credits,” despite the fact that the show felt forgivably unfinished.
Morning Reckoning’s charm, humor, and nostalgia resounded despite the stunning and confusing final moments. If anything, it made us speculate about a second act. Perhaps, instead of “rolling credits,” we should be thinking, “to be continued…”
Kelly Trumbull seemed to be connected to many of the evening’s attendees. A long-time Pittsburgh actor, director, and educator, this was her first venture as a playwright, and if the support for this “theatre artist’s theatre artist” was overheard in the audience’s pre-show chatter, it resounded in the post-show Q&A. If she wants a second act as much as we do, it’s bound to grace a nearby stage sooner than later. This I promise you.
Set in 1999, Morning Reckoning tells the story of a group of 8th-grade girls who run a fan club for their favorite Boy Band, “Morning Reckoning.”
By Jessica Neu
Upon entering the New Hazlett Theater to enjoy local multidisciplinary artist Kelly Trumbull’s new play, I was immediately struck by the scenic design and props
(Tucker Topel). The fan club meetings occur in the club president Kandace’s (Alex Manalo) suburban New Jersey basement. The 1970s-80s plaid sofa was a basement standard during the 90s as it was banished to the basement when your parents got new living room furniture from Kaufmann’s. The couch was adorned with a patchwork crocheted afghan. A bean bag chair and the type of plastic folding chair you would stick to on a hot summer day provided additional seating options for the fan club members. Downstage were storage boxes marked as holiday decorations and the red and yellow Little Tykes “Fred Flintstone” pedal car. I had that exact car as a child, and its presence on stage made me a bit itchy as it was the source of my first bee sting when a hive set up in the back of the car. My grandfather got the stinger out with tweezers as I sat on a similar brown plaid couch positioned center stage—indeed, a nostalgic moment.
Written and directed by Trumbull, Morning Reckoning marks her writing debut and is sure to make you laugh and remember an era of dial-up internet, teen magazines, and teenage angst. The social media hype surrounding this show, The last show of New Hazlett’s Community Supported Art’s 10th season, was significantly greater than that of previous performances this season, translating into a nearly sold-out audience for opening night.
Trumbull’s script is peppered with clever popular culture references from that era, including nods to *NSYNC, Christina Aguilera, Carson Daily, “Austin Powers,” “Clueless” and “Scream.” These references help to ground the nostalgic element of the show as we follow Kandace and her friends April (Claire Sabatine), Sue (Jalina McClarin), Trish (Matia Martin), and Emily (Mia Kurlfink), as they hold annual fan club meetings to discuss important information about the band, prepare for their upcoming concert at Madison Square Garden (complete with plans for their mothers to wait in line at Ticket Master) and perfect the words and choreography to each Morning Reckoning song.
With music by Brad Stephenson and Addi Twigg and choreography by Manalo, audiences get the vibe that these girls are recreating what they just saw on Total Request Live back in the late 90s as fans flocked to Times Square each day to catch a glimpse of their favorite artists at the MTV studios.
However, if the singing and dancing are the personifications of teen pop, Trumbull’s angst-ridden script channels Alanis Morissette-esque 90s female rock. Straight from the pages of a diary purchased from the Charlotte Russe checkout line, the five principal actresses portray a sense of teenage excitement and drama as their meeting agendas address underlying social anxieties that plague young women. Topics of bullying, sexual orientation, parenting, and independence are all discussed from a teenager’s self-centered, stunted perspective. However, the topics still add depth to the plot as we, as adults, can become self-reflective on our once-teenage selves.
Trish’s parents will not allow her to take the train into Manhattan to attend the Morning Reckoning concert but instead offer to drop her off at Madison Square Garden and pick her up. Despite Trish still being allowed to go to the show, Kandace becomes infuriated that Trish cannot ride the train with the rest of the group, as the presence of Trish’s parents ruins the entire significance of the adventure. I remember so clearly my dad waiting for me outside of Star Lake and IC Light amphitheater, but wow, did I feel grown-up when I started riding with my older friends who had their licenses to see shows a Club Laga and Metropool.
These characters are relatable, witty, and heartwarming. Kandace continues to fight for control over the group as Nadia (Julia Kreutzer), a transfer student from Indianapolis, is invited by Trish to join the fan club. Kandace rejects anyone new to the group citing that Nadia is not a big enough fan as she continues to bully the other members into adhering to her self-contrived fan club agenda. Her need for control could resonate from the absentee mother whom Kandace references throughout the show but also alludes to a far more significant challenge that many teenagers face: the struggle to reconcile one’s identity. Kandace becomes so entrenched in her love for Morning Reckoning, specifically member Brandon Brixton, that she has a quasi-nervous breakdown when it is reported that he attempted suicide and that all subsequent concerts are canceled. Lashing out at her friends, who she feels are not mourning the events properly, Kandace admits that she eventually thought the stars would align and she and Brandon would end together. Of course, adults can view that statement as teenage fantasy, but I challenge any female to think back to when you did not have some hope that you would end up with your teenage celebrity crush (mine was Taylor Hanson).
Morning Reckoning brings to light that before individuals became consumed by identity politics, there was identity pop culture. When each of the Spice Girls and *NSYNC assumed a different persona that fans could identify with, we became these members, or at the very least, assumed we knew them. As Kandace realizes that all she knows about Brandon are the preferences he listed in a teen magazine interview, she is left with the stark reality that she not only does not know Brandon but also does not know herself, which is quite a heavy realization to reckon with.
Morning Reckoning opened on the same day the Backstreet Boys celebrated their 30th anniversary as a group. To this day, fans still flock to see their favorite teen icons, from New Kids on the Block to the Jonas Brothers. What was once our entire identity is now the nostalgia we seek to escape the turmoil of our current identity politics; “isn’t it ironic, don’t ya think?” Morning Reckoning connects us to that nostalgic time faster than any dial-up connection ever could and reinvigorates the thrill, innocence, and excitement that comes with seeing your favorite celebrities and spending time with your best friends.
New Hazlett Theater Community Supported Art’s (CSA) production of Morning Reckoning has it’s last performance on April 21, 2023, tickets at https://newhazletttheater.org/csa/
Review: The Artful Composition of Jasmine Roth’s “Painting Lessons” Balances Realism and the Abstract
By Vanessa Reseland
Continuing Recital’s sponsored partnership with the New Hazlett Theater, we are presenting a series of editorially-independent previews and reviews of the 2022–23 Community Supported Art (CSA) Performance Series. Below is our review of Painting Lessons by Jasmine Roth, a collaborative response from Vanessa Reseland with guest panelists Ariel Xiu, Luis Zul, and David Bernabo.
When our review panel convened to discuss the show we’d just seen, Painting Lessonsby writer and director Jasmine Roth, it took several moments to form thoughtful words. I was not the only panelist to have a stuttered response. Despite the awareness of the subject matter, most of us were a bit dumbstruck as we sat at our post-show conference table.
The play was a loosely-based-on-the-true-story of the illness and subsequent death of Roth’s father, and it evocatively traversed both the commonly human and the uniquely personal odysseys of grief. Scrutinizing the earthshaking loss of a parent, Roth shone a light from the rubble of mourning onto the dreamy lifetime of memories painted by the person they believed their father to be. Their shared moments before his fatal diagnosis are revisited with a new anguished longing, each meaningful conversation or lingering question made hazy from nostalgia or desperation. To be candid, 14 months after losing my own mother, I find this review to be especially confrontational, painful, and challenging to write. Given the stifled sniffles repeatedly filling the theater, it seems Jasmine Roth’s piece deeply touched their audience with this beautiful, heartbreaking, and hopeful homage to their father.
Our protagonist, J, is played by Abbie Siecinski with a remarkably similar essence to that of author Jasmine Roth. Abbie captured her muse with natural accuracy and a full range of emotion. Her dad, a painter and art teacher known only as “Dad,” is a more mysterious figure played by John Dolphin with the sturdy closed-offness often associated with baby boomers.
Throughout the piece, we hear J’s inner thoughts. We retain them as well-crafted recollections. Sometimes, we experience them as monologues mid-panic attack. We learn her triggers with her father, and we hear about her lack of closure in their relationship. As with most parent-child relationships, the child’s concern is largely self-centered. What do I wish you had given to me? What do I need from you before you die? As caring and curious as J is about their father’s life, pain, secrets, and loves, this show is about their side of the relationship, their grief. Even the most thoughtful offspring sees their parent firstly as their parent.
Here to keep J’s “main character” mindset in check is the unexpected, oh-thank-goodness-we-can-laugh-right-now “Greek chorus,” a trio of dexterous and hilarious character actors comprised of Rebekah Hukill, Catherine Baird, and Greyson Taylor. Each play multiple roles from waiters to orderlies to doctors to J’s mother to J’s estranged aunt — an efficient and entertaining production choice. When tension or pain or discomfort lingered in the air, the chorus members gave it a name and teased it just the right amount to ease the audience into the scenario. There were moments when it worked very well. During a montage of doctor visits and various tests, the chorus tapped into the remote nature of hospital workers who are aiming to save lives yet remain strangers throughout the process. Elsewhere, a heartfelt scene that found J and her long-lost aunt — delightfully played (with an Australian accent, no less) by Greyson Tucker — reminiscing about J’s father contains chemistry so palpable and sweet that we rooted for them to stay in touch after their coffee date. Other times, the role-switching fell flat. In a confusing look back at J’s previous marriage, Tucker also plays J’s ex. The dialogue was less specific than in most of the show. Seemingly written to prove that the ex was not the right fit for J, he came off as selfish and uncaring and not much else. That, mixed with the lack of chemistry between Tucker and Siecinski, was enough to write off that scene as exposition and just wait for the next moment in the Metaphysical Cactus Garden.
Oh, I haven’t mentioned the Metaphysical Cactus Garden yet? This is where the show took us when we weren’t in the hospital or the art studio or within in a memory. The garden is another perception of their relationship, centering around their communal language and love of painting.
The refreshing structure of this show bounced out of the traditional world of linear storytelling and into the realm of the abstract. The timeline ricocheted from what seemed to be a few years after J’s father’s death (present day), to the day of their father’s cancer diagnosis, to their unsatisfying childhood, to his death, to a dreamlike world that transcends time known as the Metaphysical Cactus Garden, where J and Dad are free to discuss all things with the wisdom of hindsight as they paint the desert landscape they had planned to paint together before he died.
The inconsistent pacing of the play struck some of us as intentional, some of us as problematic. Some scenes were at a nearly manic tempo, like J’s desperate and breathless monologues, pushing the audience forward along with J, whether we wanted to go or not. Some scenes, like Dad’s actual death, the arguable climax of the show, included several moments of complete silence. The panel agreed that the fallen hush was a smart and effective choice, giving us the chance to take in the plot shift while we also allowed our minds to wander into our own personal, painful déjà vu. One’s perception of time while experiencing death and grief is not linear; it is not consistent. Some moments swallow us for an eternity, and some moments feel like too much is happening at once. Most of us felt that the overall effect of the rapid-fire juxtaposed with the endless was worth exploring and largely effective.
An awakening of J’s sexual orientation was teased through the first half of the show. “Gay, bi, queer, whatever I am,” J surprisingly stammers in a frantic, get-this-over-with way at one point. J struggles with the fear that their Christian father would never have approved of their divorce, their interest in dating women, their unknown path forward. Here is where the autobiographical nature gets murky. In a scene melding the Metaphysical Cactus Garden with the physical world of Dad’s art studio, J found evidence of Dad’s attraction to men when going through his belongings after his death. In his art studio, Dad appeared, and J confronts him, asking why he never told her. Dad explained that he had to chose, at that time, between his attraction to men and his desire for a family. He chose a family and stood behind his choice. As we watched this emotional scene, our minds began to wonder…is this real? Was Jasmine’s Dad closeted? As we wondered this, J announces their concern about outing a dead man and whether or not his family would walk out of this very show. We were on the same page. The breaking of the fourth wall and references to family made some of our panel believe this was a true story from Jasmine’s life. Others were convinced it was artistic license that wasn’t entirely necessary. Some were offput. Some were intrigued. Some were confused. Some were irritated. All were curious. All were affected.
In a later scene with J and Dad — the chorus beautifully lit by Haley Brown and staged using three levels by Jasmine Roth — rain poured for the first time in their cactus garden, and this weather change brought about a new conversation regarding three lingering topics with a common thread. Would you have accepted me if I got divorced? if I were gay? if I didn’t believe in God?
Our panel had a lot to say about this. While some felt the entire idea of seeking acceptance from a dead person to be demoralizing and delusional, others felt that the conversation represented more of a self-acceptance or even an illusion of possibility that could bring a necessary peace, no matter how unrealistic. Concepts like needing to choose between being queer and having a family or needing the acceptance of someone who may be homophobic made many of us feel that these storylines are less than ideal. Do queer stories of struggle need to make way for depictions of living, not fighting for a place to live?
Roth attempts to go there in an epilogue that was equally adorable, puzzling, and out of place. After J makes some bit of peace with her Dad in the cactus garden, they announce that there is one more scene that “really happened,” leaving the panel confused again on what was real and what was artistic liberty. Setting that aside for the moment, we watched this “real-life” scene take place with an actor, Siecinski, still portraying the “real-life” person who directed her in this scene. This scene was a date. J’s date. With a woman. It was a simple celebration of getting over the hurdle of self-suppression. After a song, “Isn’t She Lovely” comes up in conversation about her father/daughter wedding dance, it begins to play in the restaurant. It was a sweet wink to her father and to the idea that the people we love can show themselves in various ways after we lose them. As cute as this scene was, and as much as we craved a joyful, pro-LGBTQIA+ life moment, this scene was ultimately confusing after such an emotional show that had already wrapped up so beautifully, and many of us felt it could have effectively ended without the tag.
After the show, Roth was asked what their plans are for this piece. There was not a clear answer. It is possible this show was written as a personal catharsis and nothing more. We hope that isn’t the case though. Painting Lessons was a creative, funny, moving, stirring evening of relatably out-there theatre about a time in life that is as close to death as we can get. I hope there is a long life for this piece of theatre and a long career for Jasmine Roth.
90s Boy Bands Unlock Millennial Nostalgia in Kelly Trumbull’s Morning Reckoning
By Vanessa Reseland
Photos by Louis Stein
Continuing Recital’s sponsored partnership with the New Hazlett Theater, we are presenting a series of editorially-independent previews and reviews of the 2022–23 Community Supported Art (CSA) Performance Series.
Kelly Trumbull is an actor, director, and collegiate theatre arts educator. With Morning Reckoning, she adds “playwright” to her multi-hyphenate status. A first-time playwright, Trumbull approaches her work with thoughtfulness, humanity, and a delightful sense of humor. Her upcoming play, the final show in the 2022/2023 CSA series at the New Hazlett Theater, brings those of us who came of age with N*SYNC and Backstreet Boys back to the hormonal mood swings of middle school. By wearing “The Shape of her Heart” on her sleeve, Trumbull hopes her writing encourages “Everybody to Want It That Way”. No Strings Attached.
Vanessa Reseland: Can you tell me a little bit about the style and format of Morning Reckoning?
Kelly Trumbull: It’s a relatively traditional narrative in the form of a one act play. It centers around a character named Candice who is the president of a teenage boy band fan club in the year 1999. Candice is the protagonist, and everyone circles around her. Her main foil is her best friend, Trish. Eighth grade is such a weird time in life. Each scene follows the trajectory of that group through time and the small hurdles they encounter, the larger hurdles they encounter. The inciting incident is the desire to add a new member [to the fan club] and the controversy that creates. The fan club consists of five members, and they’re thinking of adding a sixth member, who is the new girl in town. We never see the boy band. We only see the fan club on stage.
VR: The 90s boy band is such a specific piece of —
KT: — pop culture history, right?! I was a huge boy band fan growing up, so that was part of the inspiration for this. I loved New Kids on the Block. I loved N*SYNC, Backstreet Boys. I knew all of their songs and had posters of them, so…[laughs] that was part of the inspiration when writing this.
VR: Did you ever participate in one of the real life fan clubs?
KT: YES! Well, it wasn’t a formal fan club, but when I was in 8th grade, the same age as the girls in this play, my friends and I would get together. We would dress up as boy band members and lip sync and perform their songs. So it was never a formal club, but we definitely celebrated them.
VR: Is any of that on video?
KT: Actually — I don’t have it, but I do think one of my good friends from high school has much of it documented. I’m frightened. I’m really frightened. I feel like it’s one of those moments where when it’s happening, you’re like, “I am so cool,” and then now you’re like, “no.”
VR: I think it’s cool again.
KT: Cool, good. I’ll have to reach out to her, see if she can dig it up. [laughs]
VR: Embrace it. Ok, so when reading about your works, in general, I was catching phrases like, “[dealing with] the fragility of the human experience,” and I know that in this show, there is mature language and themes and descriptions of suicide, even, yet to hear what this show is about, it seems so light and fun. Can you tell me anything about that duality?
KT: Yes. Absolutely. I think these moments of fragility, these higher stakes are interwoven with the lightness of the general meetings of this club. It’s really fun to see how these characters deal with everyday situations and then also how they deal with situations that are more adult and more challenging to navigate. I really wanted to explore both sides of that because I think that’s something that is so true of most people’s formative years. Sometimes when we are teenagers, early teenagers especially, we don’t really understand the magnitude of big moments, or we’re trying to figure out what is a big moment and what’s not. We’re trying to communicate that there are these huge changes going on, and they’re all barrelling towards you so quickly it feels hard to control or navigate them. There are of couple moments in the play that deal with those heavier moments, and those are just interwoven with the humor of what you would imagine an eighth grade boy band fan club would talk about and partake in.
VR: You can paint that concept with a very broad brush, but it sounds like there’s a lot more to it.
KT: I think there is. I was trying to find some depth with it while also keeping it fun and energetic. We’ll see how it works out!
VR: Is there anything about what you created that has changed from the time that you applied for the CSA series to now?
KT: Absolutely. When I applied, it was relatively close to the form it’s in now, structurally, but I have added a lot more depth both in regard to the story and in regard to the characters. My vision is for this to become a two-act show and for all of the teenagers to be played by women who are my age, and then in the second act, we see them in the present day, so they play their 14-year-old selves, and they play their present-day selves. We see how the implications of the event that happens when they are 14 impact them into adulthood and how each person is affected by it differently. I haven’t written all of Act II, so this particular iteration is just the first act, and it will be played by many of the college students that I teach! They’ll be playing the 14-year-olds.
VR: They must be so excited.
KT: I am excited.
VR: I’m sure they are too.
KT: I think so. I hope so. As an educator, I really try to create spaces for my students, to collaborate with them because I figure, if I’m doing it right, they should be people that I want to work with. They always make me look good, and it’s really fun to grow with them in that way, to have our relationship evolve into collaborators and friends.
VR: Are you an actor in this production?
KT: No, I am directing it.
VR: Will this scale be a first for this production?
KT: Yes, aside from hearing it on Zoom and one staged reading of this script at the University of Pittsburgh, but this is the first fully staged, fully realized production.
VR: We’ll have to see this production and then wait for the sequel of act two.
KT: I know! I have to write it now!
VR: Just so I’m definitely clear, is Morning Reckoning the name of the —
KT: — the boy band?
VR: the boy band?
KT: It is. It’s the name of the boy band. [laughs]
VR: Is there anything implied in that title?
KT: There is something in that title, but I don’t want to tell you too much because I want you to be surprised when you see it, but, I think, when you see it, you’ll be like, “Oh! Ok, cool!”
VR: In regard to the social dynamics of the world after quarantine — obviously, this play takes place in 1999, so that’s not necessarily part of the storyline, but is there any kind of thread there that people could pick up on in terms of the social microcosm?
KT: I think this play is like putting the 8th grade social experience under a microscope and examining it. That’s something that I hope makes people go, “Oh no!” and laugh and remember things and cringe and remember things and cry and remember things. I’m trying to get all of that in there. The actual creation of this piece was directly related to the pandemic. When everything in the performing arts, which is my main profession, came to a halt, I decided I was going to write a play! I never would have had the time to step back and put my energy and focus into writing a play. I’ve worked a lot as an actor, I’ve worked a lot as a director. I teach at the University of Pittsburgh, I’m a full time faculty member in the Theatre Arts Department and an adjunct at Carnegie Mellon — I teach the opera singers acting. This is the first play that I have ever written. There is something about writing a play that you’ve created that is so much more vulnerable, for me personally. I’m like, “Do you like what’s inside my brain?”
VR: Since you grew up in Pittsburgh, do you have any friends from that era who are coming to see the show?
KT: Oh, yes. Many of my high school friends are coming. They know they were the inspiration for it. They’re very excited to see it. I know they’ll be like, “Oh my gosh! We had that exact conversation about Destiny’s Child!”
VR: Because you did!
KT: Because we did.
VR: Someone has to document these things.
KT: It was really fun writing this and thinking about all the things that I liked and then googling to make sure that my recollection of the year was accurate. It was really fun to be like, “Yes, YES! Christina Aguilera WAS very big during this time!”
VR: It wasn’t just our high school.
KT: Everybody loved her!
VR: Hometown Hero.
KT: Unfortunately, this play takes place in Wayne, NJ, not in Pittsburgh, so I couldn’t make that callback, but I did actually think of shifting it just to have that Christina Aguilera moment of [dialogue], like, “I saw her at Ross Park Mall once!”
VR: What are you hoping people think about or take away from their experience in the theatre that night?
KT: Well, without revealing too much, the play ends on a very hightened note, so my initial hope is that they are a bit gobsmacked and shocked and, maybe, taken aback and almost thrown off course a tiny bit. But my hope for when they’re actually driving home and thinking about it is that they think about the greater meaning of that moment and moments in their life that have shaped them to make them who they are today. The people that we are stay with us forever. Eighth grade Kelly is still here. Everything that happens to us in life remains a part of us and influences us forever.
The cast is comprised of Alex Manalo, MaTia Martin, Jalina McClarin, Mia Kurlfink, Claire Sabatine, and Julia Kreutzer. The design team includes lighting by Hope Debelius, set by Tucker Topel, and costumes and props by Lindsay Goranson. Gabriella Castridad is a producing associate and swing, and Addi Twig is creating original boy band songs for the show.