Conquest.
Religion. Sacrifice. Sweat.
Politics. Fate. These were just a few of
the
themes that took shape in the form of six new lesbian and gay icons
in the encore performance of the nationally touring production of "ICONS:
The Lesbian and Gay History of the World, Vol. 2" at
Metropolitan Community Church of San Antonio on November 14, 2007.
The show was directed by David Miguel Estrada with book, music,
lyrics, choreography and performance by "master entertainer"
Jade Esteban
Estrada. Additional musical arrangements were by
Tracy Stark.
Although
Estrada
repeats a format that has proven a superb vehicle for his singing,
acting and comedic abilities, the middle show in the "ICONS"
trilogy sets itself apart by demonstrating in him a social
consciousness that glitters beyond the glitz and glamour of the
Broadway-caliber musical comedy.
Born in
2004 at the Columbus National Gay and Lesbian Theatre Festival, the
sequel to "ICONS:
The Lesbian and Gay History of the World, Vol. 1"
(the show that brought Sappho, Michelangelo, Oscar Wilde, Gertrude
Stein, Sylvia Rivera and Ellen DeGeneres to the stage) won the
Audience Favorite in Solo Performance Award in its opening weekend
and later played the Bonham Exchange Ballroom in downtown San
Antonio in 2005.
The
eclectic show begins with
Estrada
delivering a public television inspired introduction advising the
audience that they needed worry if they happen to "miss anything" in
the program. Dressed in a black cape and Spartan sandals he adds,
"History has a funny way of repeating itself." In a line that sets
the tone for the entire evening, it seems clear early on that "ICONS
2" takes a more serious look at the legacy left by
lesbians and gays than its predecessor. Not willing to lose his
listeners with too much information all at once, he peppers his
stories with a signature silliness that has made him a YouTube
favorite. He follows his lofty description of Alexander the Great's
mother Princess Olympias of Epirus with a stone-faced, "no, really -
she was hot."
Estrada
stripped off the cape to reveal a dazzling red and silver gladiator
costume complete with a half-arm of armor. The musical opens with
"the greatest funeral in recorded history." The death scene of
Alexander's companion Hephaistion is painted with dubbed vocals of
hearty male voices carrying the deceased as Alexander sings "Hephaistion."
Estrada's
velvety voice expresses a pop sound reminiscent of Rick Astley.
Alexander sings about the difficulty of moving forward in his life
without his beloved.
Estrada,
who is known for including audience interaction in his performances,
limits the time in the house to the upbeat song "Alexander" when he
channelled the spirit of Elvis Presley in a Latin-fused number
rallying the right side of the theatre to compete with the left side
for a position in his army. The true comedy arose when the
unsuspecting audience didn't immediately respond to the freshly
broken forth wall. For those unfamiliar with
Estrada's
stage work or the genre of the one-person show, this improvised
section gives the viewers the opportunity to see
Estrada
in his element. The veteran stand-up comedian seems to make it a
point to make sure the audience is with him in his onstage journey.
He stops the show, sits on a woman's lap and asks, "are you getting
everything that I'm sayin' up here?"
Estrada
ended the Alexander segment when he revealed that he didn't feel so
well. "I hope it's not malaria," is one of the many historically
accurate tidbits he throws in to educate while entertaining.
One of the
actor's most convincing onstage transitions was his transformation
from Alexander to Queen Christina of Sweden, the monarch who
abdicated the throne and converted to Catholicism. His voice,
body language and face soften as he becomes youthful and
scatterbrained while trying on the royal attire before her famous
announcement to the people of Sweden. The song she sings, "Unearth
me" was effervescent.
Estrada
utilizes time compression effectively by starting the song at age 18
ending up as a 28 year old woman with an attitude. The change came
as a genuine surprise as
Estrada
sculpted her personality before our very eyes.
Estrada next
became the prudish Susan B. Anthony, the women's suffrage
activist who sang the song "The Politics of Inclusion." The actor
did not spend too much time with the details of looking exactly like
the characters he portrayed. Instead, almost by hypnosis, he
convinced the audience to believe that what they were witnessing was
real.
Estrada's
fourth icon drew applause before the character's first lines were
uttered from those old enough to remember her rise to fame. Dressed
in a cute, white tennis skirt, wristbands, headband, and period
glasses,
Estrada
channeled tennis great Billie Jean King walking across the stage
with the gait of a warrior.
Estrada
reenacted the "Battle of the Sexes" tennis match against rival Bobby
Riggs in 1973 which was a significant landmark in the development of
equality between men and women. He ran from side to side
swooping the tennis racket inches away from the front row much to
the delight of the spectators.
Estrada's
King was sheer poetry in motion.
"Do you
consider yourself an athlete or a woman?" asked a recorded voice
imitating sportscaster Howard Cosell. Kings responds, "I consider
myself an athlete and a woman...but today you can just call me - the
winner."
The show
stopping number of the evening (Estrada
slid a similar number as Oscar Wilde in "ICONS
1") was "Helluva Guy" in a portrayal of Harvey Milk, the
first openly gay man to be elected to public office in the U.S. Milk
was shot in the head at San Francisco City Hall in 1978 by a fellow
city supervisor. In this number, he attempts to win the public vote
with an aerobic song and dance number. Curiously, in the lyrics of
this song is the only time the word "gay" is uttered during the
entire show.
He changes
the feel a bit when Milk performs "The Mayor of Castro Street" when
the audience sees the politician ten months later speaking to his
staff the afternoon of his assassination.
Estrada's
hand carefully guides the audience through a whirlwind of emotions.
He makes it okay to laugh one minute and cry the next without
remorse.
Estrada's
boldest number is the finale when he resurrected Mark Bingham, the
United Airlines passenger who called his mother in flight to tell
her he loved her and that the passengers were about to fight back
against terrorists before they died in a pasture in Pennsylvania.
There was an eeriness in watching him mention the infamous date
while getting a taxi receipt. "May I get a receipt, please? Uhmm.
The 11th. September 11th. Thanks. Tax write-off." Bingham smiles
good-heartedly and waves goodbye to the driver. The song
"Someday You Might Be a Hero" is riveting and the chorus is
chilling.
Although
years had passed since that day that changed the world in 2001, the
audience seemed to have been taken on a magic carpet ride of
conquest, religion, sacrifice, sweat, politics and fate. Destinies
that have not just shaped lesbian and gay history - but world
history. And that seems to be
Estrada's
point.
One Kansas
critic called
Estrada
"one of the finest solo theatre artists of the 21st century." After
the exhilarating performance of "ICONS
2," the public that rose to their feet in applause seemed
to agree with that.
©2008 Southwest Actors Guide