Author: Joe

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.

www.taylormac.org

theaterreviewsfrommyseat/a24decadehistoryofpopularmusicpart1

In the fall of 2016, Taylor Mac brought his show to St. Ann’s Warehouse in Brooklyn.  A 24-Decade History of Popular Music was billed as a 24 hour marathon in which every decade of American music would be presented, each for one hour.  Without any more knowledge, I declined to subject myself to that adventure.  The rave reviews followed.  In 2017, this work was one of three finalists for the Pulitzer Prize for drama.  Luckily, the show is being presented in two 12 hour installments over two weekends at the Kimmel Center for the Performing Arts in Philadelphia.

First and foremost, Taylor Mac is a drag performance artist and this is a drag show filled with all the glitter and bawdiness you would expect.  But it is so much more than that.  A 24-Decade is also history lesson, a musical jukebox, a political manifesto and a group improvisation exercise, all doused in gorgeous lighting and outrageous costumes.

Mr. Mac opens the show with an apology to Native Americans followed by a discussion of Thomas Paine’s pamphlet “Common Sense.”  For the young people, he helpfully instructs that a pamphlet is smaller than a book and larger than a blog.  How does he define government?  The example used is “Nudie Baby.”  A four year old likes to run around the house naked shouting “nudie baby, nudie baby.”  It’s cute and funny.  One time at the mall, the child takes off his clothes and runs around shouting “nudie baby, nudie baby.”  He is then captured by parents who forcibly put the clothes back on while he cries and sadly wails, “nudie baby, nudie baby.”  “THAT’S GOVERNMENT,” insists Mr. Mac.

Who knew Yankee Doodle Dandy was originally a song the British used to mock the American colonists, suggesting they were low-class men lacking in masculinity?  That’s “really saying something coming from the British.”  The history goes on and on from the Revolution to the temperance movement, from Native American genocide to the Oklahoma land rush, from abolitionists to Reconstruction and from the Trail of Tears to the robber barons of the late 19th Century.  The scope of this piece is enormous.  The politics unabashedly liberal.

From the lyrics to Johnny Comes Marching Home Again:  “The men will cheer and the boys will shout/the ladies they will all turn out/and we’ll all feel gay/when Johnny comes marching home.”  Yes it’s history and yes it’s hilarious.  But seriousness lurks behind every eyelash, deepening the entire experience.  I didn’t know My Old Kentucky Home written by Steven Foster was a minstrel song which, up until recently, contained the lyric “there comes a time when the darkies have to part.”

Mr. Mac is onstage for nearly the entire twelve hours and sings throughout.  He is riveting, intense, outraged and hugely entertaining.  He is celebrating freedom.  He is also commenting on America and asking us to consider what it’s values were, are and should be.  For him, “nostalgia is the last refuge of the racist.”  The performance is colossal.  I sat in my seat and remained glued to the spectacle while being firmly engrossed in its messaging.  I cannot wait to see the second half this Saturday.  Surely, we’ll hear more about politics mixing with religion and oppression of minorities as Mr. Mac continues deconstructing the “heteronormative narrative and colonialism” history of America.

www.kimmelcenter.org