For the second Saturday in a row, I traveled back to Philadelphia for the next and final twelve hours of Taylor Mac’s politicized, gender-bending – as far from conservative evangelical as possible – 246 song opus, A 24-Decade History of Popular Music. Right from the start we learn that the show is “a radical fairy realness ritual sacrifice.” Mr. Mac points out that we don’t have to agree with him as “it’s not Oprah. It’s not the GOP.” The show immediately heads into the crowded Jewish tenements of the early 20th Century and a beautiful version of “Shine On, Harvest Moon.”
By the time we get to the 1960s things are so outrageous that his persona is akin to Baby Jane (Bette Davis movie) playing Jackie O (President Kennedy’s wife) at a beach party. The superbly conceptualized costume designs are by Machine Dazzle and dazzle they do. The show traverses a century of wars both between governments and between oppressors and the oppressed. The Cold War is hilariously staged with giant inflatables as the two sides face off to determine who is bigger.
At the end of this musical extravaganza we are told (and it seems logical) that “no other show in the history of theater has a roller derby butt showing stage manager.” How you react to that admission is likely how you will react to this combination of artistic empire expansion protest meeting (and sledgehammering) of the “heteronormative narrative” of America. Not that his audience wasn’t on board but he does warn that our inherent white supremacy instincts might just start freaking out because “all those people are having so much fun.”
There were two moments in Part II which left a big impression. First was the not so subtle abuse shoveled toward conservative NRA activist Ted Nugent. Taylor Mac decided to turn his song “Snakeskin Cowboy” into an onstage gay prom dance. The second was the depiction of white flight out of the America’s cities. All of the white people seated in center orchestra were sent to the sides of the theater. The people of color were then moved into those seats. And if you didn’t like it, Mr. Mac had a safe word for you. It was EXIT.
The Bob Dylan song “A Hard Rain’s a-Gonna Fall” perhaps hit me like never before. “I met one man who was wounded in love/I met another man who was wounded in hatred/And it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard/It’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall.” By the time the line “where black is the color, where none is the number” is sung, I felt overwhelmed. This show was closer to capturing a feeling of spiritual community than any of the endlessly recited religious babble from my youth.
Mr. Mac did ask his audience to think about what the show meant to them. What reactions, both positive and negative, that we might have. So many come to mind from this singularly brilliant and vividly indulgent exercise in creative expression. So here’s one of my takeaways: Why would I ever want to be part of a religion that won’t bake cakes for people in love? I am certain I will never see anything like A 24-Decade History of Popular Music ever again. Bravo.
theaterreviewsfrommyseat/a24decadehistoryofpopularmusicpart1
One Reply to “A 24-Decade History of Popular Music Part II: 1896-Present (Philadephia)”