An exploration of how a university production took a radically feminist play to new heights
“I don’t feel sad. I feel angry.”
The above quote is from the popular Netflix Series Sex Education. Aimee says this quote in Season 2, Episode 7. Aimee was a victim of sexual assault that greatly affected her day-to-day life. In this episode, several of the show’s female characters are forced to find something that bonds them while in detention. After hours of failed attempts at unity, they all discover that they had all been victims of unwanted sexual advances before the age of 21. Since Aimee’s most recent incident, they all focus on her and try to make her feel better. Aimee expressed that she was tired of the sadness; now, she was frustrated. The girls take her to smash some shit in a beautifully cathartic moment.
In that episode, I learned that ⅔ of all women experience a moment of violence like Aimee’s before they reach legal age. I knew that violence against women was a terrible problem, but I
was ignorant of its astronomical nature. I didn’t know about the rage and frustration that lives within the victims from day to day. The concept of crimes against women is not a new one, but the way that we talk about them has changed drastically. In discussing ‘feminist’ literature with my roommate and producing playwrights, Brittney Anderson said, “There’s a difference! Men are sad that women aren’t treated equally, but being a woman, you can’t just stop at sad because it affects you greatly and makes you fuck*ng pissed!” The conversation opened my mind. In literature, the stories of assault victims have been policed to only center around the depression that comes with trauma. It teaches audiences that sadness is the only acceptable response to trauma. Thanks to this culture shift, I’m learning about the true complexities of these experiences and the importance of catharsis regarding processing and healing from trauma. Perhaps the most important experience concerning this enlightenment was seeing Revolt! She Said. Revolt Again! at the University of the Arts.
Revolt. She Said. Revolt Again was commissioned by the Royal Shakespeare Company in 2014 as a part of the Midsummer Mischief Festival. The festival was inspired by the famous quote penned by Pulitzer Prize-winning historian Laurel Thatcher Ulrich: “Well-behaved women seldom make history.” Four playwrights were recruited to write pieces in response to this quote, and as a result, audiences were given Alice Birch’s Revolt. She Said. Revolt Again.
Revolt. She Said. Revolt Again centers around women and the lives of women. In a somewhat allegorical fashion, Revolt tells stories of r*pe, oppression, agency, safety, and freedom. Every story is centered around women and focuses on dismantling language and vocabulary surrounding womanhood and sex. The play is unapologetic and bold, words usually denied from the female vocabulary. The play doesn’t politely ask us to listen; it screams at us until we have no choice but to comply. There’s no such thing as the perfect play, however. A white woman penned the piece, and as I previously stated, the narratives of black women do not always coincide with the narratives of white women, especially not with all of the colors in between.
The production premiered at The Other Place and the Royal Court Theatre with Robert Boulter,
Scarlett Brookes, Ruth Gemmell, and Mimi Ndiweni. Of these actors, one was black, all British, and all cisgender. The show and cast then traveled to the Latitude Festival. There was also a prominent performance at the Soho Repertory Theatre. This production was directed by Lileana Blain-Cruz and featured Daniel Abeles, Molly Bernard, Eboni Booth, and Jennifer Ikeda. Of the four actors, two were white, one was black, and one was Asian; all were cisgender: this production was also directed by a woman of color. Over the years, the production has become more inclusive of actors and artists of different races, but it begs a question. Does multiracial involvement in productions of the play make the play itself more intersectional in its feminist discussion? Apparently not.
During callbacks for the production at UArts, the play’s prominent white voice raised some concerns. Thankfully, director and favorite resident white woman Allison Heishman had enlisted the help of Tamanya M.M. Garza, renowned Philadelphia Latinx artist, to check Heishman’s own unconscious bias as a white artist by sitting in on callbacks. I think having Tamanya in the room created a space for discourse. I spoke to Symphony Thompson, one of the students who spoke up at the callback. The actors were allowed to pick their callback groups, and Symphony’s group consisted of black women and nonbinary folx. They felt disconnected from the material: “We discussed the scene and how we feel it’s very white feminist and doesn’t represent other bodies.” The group then cut their callback short and brought their concerns to Allison and Tamanya. The lack of representation in the script made the actors concerned about how the bodies that weren’t represented in the play would be treated once rehearsals started. “We asked how brown and black bodies would be treated in this space. I said that for this play to be called ‘Revolt’ and to circle revolution so much, you can’t use that word and only tell one specific story.” Thankfully, Allison and Tamanya are goddesses. “Tamanya was so supportive of us asking those questions, as well as Allison, and explained that while she is not perfect, she cares about each individual and will do the work.” And “the work” was precisely what they did.
Allison did one of the bravest things a director can do: admit she didn’t have all the answers. She put the well-being of her actors ahead of her ego and declared that she needed help. She worked with the administration to officially add Tamanya to the artistic team. Together, the two sought to broaden the conversations conducted in Revolt. When asked about her vision for the process going forward, Allison said she wanted the show to include more voices: “Particularly, we were interested in reflecting the experiences of women of color.” They faced the age-old conundrum: how do we alter this established play without being sued for copyright infringement? Instead of just banging their heads on the wall, Allison and Tamanya came to their solution. “As Tamanya and I dug deeper into the project, she proposed that her work be focused on an entirely new piece that would be devised by the ensemble using a series of poems written by Annaliesse Garza and eventually expanding to include some pieces written by the ensemble.” (Heishman)
Instead of forcing brownness into a story written through a lens of whiteness, Tamanya decided that the best course of action was to supplement the story with brown narratives. Between vignettes of Revolt, the ensemble members that represented the people whose stories were left out of Revolt would come out and perform devised pieces that together created Burn. The movements involved in Burn were some of the most raw and vulnerable pieces of theatre that I have ever seen. I became increasingly interested in creating the pieces and how Tamanya facilitated the room to create a space where the actors felt safe enough to be so vulnerable. Tamanya said that that environment is only possible if the actors drive the process: “The process was always meant to be open and guided by the ensemble to meet its needs.” Some rules dictated how the space would be run to put the voices of the women of color in the cast first. These intentions were very evident on the other side of the table. Symphony said it best: “She [Tamanya] made it clear that she was going to privilege the black and brown bodies in the room first since that is an opportunity we rarely, most of the time, never get.” The focus was set on the performers of color: their safety, agency, and voices. Tamanya went on to describe the kinds of policies and systems that were set up in the rehearsal room, including: “safe space protocols, confidentiality agreements as well as agreements that we would not touch each other ever without asking for consent and that we would work to make space for every voice in the room that wanted to be included.” These protocols worked wonders because Symphony described the experience as supportive and safe.
Once the space was established as safe, the real work could begin.
The majority of the movements in Burn were part of a group of poems written by queer Mexican-American writer named Annaliesse Garza, who also happened to be Tamanya’s sister. These poems provided the basis for the Burn script, but all the performers involved in the devising were allowed to write or submit their poetry to be added. In my opinion, this is the best and probably the only way to give a voice to your ensemble. Once the group committed to the language, it was time to start walking in the stories. They worked as a group to devise blocking to pair with the words through improvisation exercises and a lot of discussions about power dynamics and what kind of things and people the ensemble wanted to portray. The result was a cathartic piece of theatre previously unseen on the school’s and most stages. In the audience, I felt like my eyes were opened, and from the audience, I felt like the actors were getting things off their chests that they hadn’t been able to in other theatrical experiences. Symphony described her experience with Revolt and Burn as “one of the most empowering experiences I’ve ever had as a woman of color.”
This production also challenged my own biases and ignorance. I talk about how my struggles related to my blackness and queerness sometimes blind me to the struggles of other marginalized groups, so I always love when a production forces me out of my bubble. When looking for holes in the narrative of Revolt, I was looking for POC stories. I wasn’t even thinking about the other stories that were left out. This production showed me the kinds of representation I’m missing if I only look out for my people. The ensemble of Burn was not only focused on illuminating the stories of Black women; they told Latine and nonbinary stories as well. It was very enlightening. Allison also did her part in casting the vignettes in Revolt. She subverted the usual cishet stories with the casting of nonbinary actors in characters on all sides of the spectrum and putting nonbinary bodies in scenes that centered around romantic relationships. I had no idea how empowering it could be for nonbinary bodies to tell stories that are normally related to cishet people. It’s both radical and normalizing.
I chatted with Kaytie Scott, a member of the ensemble who identifies as nonbinary because they are featured in a scene that centers around a marriage proposal. Kaytie’s character revolted against the antiquated and sexist rules typically associated with marriage. After chatting with them, I realized that they and their scene partner, Samantha Garcia, would switch roles in the scene. After doing my research, I saw that most productions cast a cisgender man as the proposer and a cisgender woman as the person receiving the proposal. Seeing a nonbinary actor present those arguments against marriage made the arguments resonate more for me. I could only imagine how it felt for the actor…at least, I could only imagine until I asked them. “It felt good to take a story that wasn’t necessarily written for me or people like me and turn it into one from both perspectives (the proposer/the propositioned). I think it leaned into the idea of revolution and how to make a change, you need to break some rules and roles.” (Scott). These choices, along with the representation in Burn, did a lot to unify the experience of “womanhood” across the gender binary and racial lines but also worked to specifically highlight the experiences of often ignored minority groups: discover our similarities and celebrate our differences.
Overall, my experience at the show was a very enlightening one. I couldn’t relax for a second. I was constantly asked to evaluate myself and my complicit role in the oppressive societal structures that lead to sexual violence. I learned so much about myself and definitely about the people around me. It’s so rare to leave a show and believe your worldview is forever changed. This production gave me that experience and inspired me to work harder to create that experience for others.
The entire production included three pieces: The New World Order, written by Harold Pinter and directed by Josh Thorps, and Revolt. She Said. Revolt Again. By Alice Birch, directed by Allison Heishman, and Burn, written by the ensemble and Annaliesse Garza and directed by Tamanya M.M. Garza. The New World Order featured Maryam Castillo (Lionel), Mallory Kohn (Des), and Erin Russo (Person in the Chair.) Revolt. She Said. Revolt Again. Featured an ensemble including Jaz Blain, Carmen Camacho-Luther, Brendan Connors, Hailey Costello, Avi Fidler, Samantha Garcia, Maryam Castillo, Mallory Kohn, Erin Russo, Anisha Sampson, Kaytie Scott, Madison Stephens, and Symphony Thompson. Burn was devised and performed by Jaz Blain, Carmen Camacho-Luther, Avi Fidler, Samantha Garcia, Maryam Castillo, Anisha Sampson, Madison Stephens, and Symphony Thompson. The show ran February 20-23 at the Arts Bank Theater.
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