Right here, right now

Where the Women Are is in a good place

By Katherine Joyce

LAUGH. CRY: Where the Women Are will make you do both.

When some people think of performance art, they roll their eyes. The nightclub poetry readings from So I Married an Ax Murderer come to mind. Or maybe there’s that terrible feeling when the audience starts to blush for the performers, embarrassed that they are not embarrassed for themselves. I know in my heart that there exists good performance art, but the bad seems to abound, and I’m always afraid to attend. Where the Women Are, performed this past weekend at ACTS, left my fears unrealized. It is performance art at its best: compelling, interesting, touching, and funny.

This company traveled from New York to share this cutting edge performance with Portland audiences for a one weekend run. As might be expected from a show on the road, the set and lighting were simple. They performed in front of a white background, mounted with symmetrically tilted windows. There were five sitting areas, one for each member of the cast to use during the course of the show, and many were big enough to accommodate groups when appropriate. The lighting was equally simple — general lighting shining brightest front and center to accentuate what occurs center stage, and allowing the cast to remain on stage throughout the show without distracting the audience from the action.

Being performance art, there is no plot to describe, no single thread of a story to share. The script is a series of interwoven monologues covering the experiences of each individual, and of the group collectively. They begin by describing where they are from. They each perform monologues about their roots, and the prejudices with which their roots have burdened them. They then describe where they are now, and how they got there.

Lizette, a Latina woman from New York City. Heather, a bisexual woman with roots in West Virginia and a mother with cancer. Beth, an overweight Jewish lesbian from Cherry Hill, New Jersey. Tricia, a black woman with a strong faith who recently lost her father. Jenny, a woman from a violent alcoholic family who is both tough and tender. And for each of them, these brief descriptions barely brush the surface of their roots, of their suffering, of their strength.

One of the most wonderful things about the cast is its diversity. It is not the kind of catch-every-racial-group diversity the cameras focus on at public Presidential speeches, or that shows up in all of the Benetton commercials. They have diverse performance styles, diverse clothing styles, and diverse temperaments. And in spite of the eclectic grouping, there is a tangible feeling of unity in the room.

Their chemistry together is fabulous. They celebrate each other’s differences and all that makes them the same. The show has this feeling of spontaneity that leads me to believe that it’s a little bit new and exciting every time they perform. As different women share their stories, the cast has the most remarkably genuine responses. They laugh at each other’s jokes, cry over each other’s suffering.

The cast does themselves a great service by having a sense of humor about their media. Although earnestly performing their art, they occasionally reprise a chant, a dance, or a phrase as a joke. It makes the earnest moments easier for the audience to bear, and gives the viewers faith that the cast is not leading them on an disingenuous journey.

This is a show that is hard-hitting, revealing, and courageous. It does not, however, join the ranks of similar shows that are hard to watch. Each woman’s personality is engaging, and each woman performs with honesty. They are simply likable, each for different reasons.

Their performance is entirely unpretentious. These women actually have important things to say, and have created an effective forum in which to tell their stories. And in the end, it is indisputable that these very different stories of very different women are about unity. Men and women of all races and backgrounds find a friendly space in the theater.

As you can probably tell, I was impressed with the cast and directors of Where the Women Are. As an eternal skeptic, I think that it is a difficult task to pull off performance art without looking foolish. I also think that it is hard to put on a show that is written by women, directed by women, performed by women, and is about women, which does not make men in the audience feel uncomfortable. This cast looked nothing less than courageous for putting so much of themselves on display, and I noticed men in the audience laughing and crying along with the rest of us.

In a one-weekend performance, the women of Where the Women Are shared their perspective with Portland audiences. Visiting from New York, the diverse, interesting, and hilarious cast provided insight into the lives of women through song, dance, poetry, and theatrics. They pushed the envelope without pushing the audience away. They celebrated the magic of womanhood, living in a hard world. They took all the suffering in the world, placed it on their shoulders, and learned to walk.

Let’s hope they come back.

Katherine Joyce can be reached at ingliskat@aol.com.