Tag Archive

Here’s a short story of love and liberation for your Sunday enjoyment.

Chapter 1) For Christmas, my sister and her family gave us tickets to Hedwig and the Angry Inch at Signature Theatre (Arlington’s answer to Broadway). Hedwig is about gender identity and exploration, and liberation, and relationships, and figuring out how to love who you are and encourage that freedom in others. It’s funny and aggressive and profane and tender. It blew us all away.

Chapter 2) Hedwig is a two-person show with the energy of a rock concert (the kickass band is on stage and integrated into the production) combined with the pathos of a tragedy. The stars have to be on and radiant 100%. Hedwig, played by Sawyer Smith (they/she), in particular, does most of the talking, teasing the audience, singing (think diva with spectacular range), and dancing, all while wearing fabulously creative costumes and gravity-defying wigs. Yitzhak, played by V Sterling (they/she/he), is Hedwig’s partner/assistant/foil depending on the moment, and also sings like an angel or a demon, depending on the scene.

Chapter 3) Anyway, this is not actually a theater review. The important bit about this show is that it affected Niki in a way that I have never before seen them react to or connect with a piece of theater. They were profoundly moved by seeing Hedwig. It meant a lot to them. That night after the show we waited around for a while to see if we could meet Sawyer and V, but eventually we had to go home before they appeared.

Chapter 4) I knew the Hedwig was closing tonight and I had hoped to take Niki to see it again, but tickets were almost all sold out and quite expensive, as the show was extremely popular. Apparently it was a record-breaking run, but I’m not sure what record it broke. Last week I stopped by the theater, sat in the lobby, and wrote a letter to Sawyer and V. I told the actors about Niki and our experience at the show and how we hoped to come again, or, if we couldn’t get tickets, to at least meet Sawyer and V. I gave them my email address and phone number. I asked the people at the box office for an envelope and to please deliver the letter. They promised to leave it in the dressing room.

Chapter 5) Last night I got a text from Sawyer, saying they thought the show was sold out but they’d definitely be happy to meet us after today’s matinee. I looked on Signature’s website and discovered two seats left for the matinee. They were pretty pricy, however, so I figured I would buy them in person so I could try to get the student price ($25) for one of the tickets. When I got the message, Niki and Randy and I were in the middle of watching an especially intense episode of Andor, so I waited until it ended and I ran out of the house, yelling behind me that I had to run an errand immediately (and unintentionally freaking Niki out). I sped to the theater only to discover the box office was already closed. I explained the situation to another employee, who suggested I email the box office right away with my request and call them as soon as they opened this morning. I had wanted to keep my errand a secret so that if it didn’t work out to see the show, Niki wouldn’t be disappointed. But after I got home we went out for ice cream and I had to explain to them what I had been doing because they were alarmed at my sudden, unexplained departure. They promised that even if we couldn’t get tickets, they appreciated me making the effort.

Chapter 6) I called the box office this morning at 10 (from church, as I was helping lead today’s service) and left a message. I called again at 11, when my part of the service was over, and left a message. Shortly thereafter I got an email from the box office saying that unfortunately those tickets had been sold, but that we could come for the rush period before the show in case someone turned in their tickets or didn’t come. The matinee was at 2, and the rush period starts at 12:30, so the email suggested we bring things to do.

Chapter 7) With water bottles, books, playing cards, my laptop, and a phone charger all in my backpack, we arrived at Signature at 12:30, identified ourselves, and settled into a pair of purple armchairs to wait. Niki read a novel. I wrote an article. We watched people walk through the lobby doors. At 1:45, one of the box office staff came over to where we were sitting. I felt certain she was going to say that everyone had shown up with their tickets and we would have to go home. Instead she said, you’re in luck, there are two tickets in the front row center that opened up. Niki and I leapt out of our seats, our hearts racing. We followed her to the counter to pay, and even more fortunately, the tickets cost only $30 each because that’s the rush price. I hadn’t even known that was a thing at Signature. Everyone at the box office seemed genuinely happy for us.

Chapter 8) We took our seats. If you’ve never been to Signature Theatre, you should know that there’s no bad seat in the house—actually there are two theaters there and they’re both pretty intimate and the way the stage and seats are arranged, you can always see what’s happening. But when you’re in the front row (which we’ve been privileged to be for Into the Woods and In the Heights), you can see everything, like every expression and teardrop and bead of sweat on the actors’ faces and every stitch and sequin in the costumes, and every clever detail of the set. So in the front row for Hedwig, we were approximately a foot or two away from the actors at any given time. We were close enough that Sawyer took Niki’s hat and placed it on top of their voluminous blond wig for a moment. We were close enough that Sawyer made eye contact with Niki and winked during another song. We were close enough that Sawyer reached out and clasped the hands of everyone in the front row, and for an instant held Niki’s face in their hands. The whole performance was even more phenomenal the second time, and left Niki in a puddle once again.

Chapter 9) Afterward we made our way to the lobby, still feeling the emotional aftershocks of the show. A little while later, once most of the audience had left, Sawyer and V (and Marika Countouris (she/her), the awesome keyboard player in the band and the show’s musical director) emerged through the stage doors. Sawyer and V came out with arms wide open to give us hugs. They were so kind and sweet and posed for pictures and signed Niki’s program. Sawyer told Niki to keep being themselves and called them angel. Then they gave us more hugs.

Chapter 10) Niki gave ME a lot of hugs in gratitude for making all that happen. I couldn’t have made it happen without the pro tips from the box office staff and the generosity of the actors, who were willing to connect with Niki, during and after the performance, and show them some love. Niki is 12 and I don’t know what’s going on in their head a lot of the time, but I know they take in a lot of what’s going on in the world. Right now, there’s a lot of hate and cruelty swirling around in the atmosphere. As much as we tell Niki we love them and we have their back and we’ll do whatever it takes to support and protect them, I suspect they know there may be battles ahead they will have to fight on their own. In the first song in the musical, Hedwig sings

Enemies and adversaries
they try and tear me down
You want me, baby, I dare you
Try and tear me down

Niki won’t forget seeing Hedwig sing that just for them.