A Conversation with Kirsten Childs
Raised
by parents who encouraged their children to “follow
their dreams,” Kirsten Child’s
dreams took her from a middleclass childhood
in Los Angeles to UC Berkeley as a French major
and then to New York to be a dancer. The
cross-country move was inspired by Ntozake
Shange, a unique performance artist best known
for blending poetry, dance and theatre in For
Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide/when
the rainbow is enuf. According to
Kirsten, “I was determined to dance with
her so I came to New York and I did! I
lived in total poverty, but also total happiness.”
In our phone interview
last month, I asked Kirsten how her family
happened to produce not one, but two children
with distinguished careers in the arts. [Her
brother is Billy Childs, the Grammy award-winning
jazz pianist, composer and arranger.]
You know, I don’t know. I
think it was our parents. They were
teachers who came from North Carolina in
the 60’s when there was a huge exodus
of Black people from the South to places
where there were lots of teaching and government
jobs. They were coming out of a world
where who you were was defined by the color
of your skin to a place they thought would
be better for their kids. We were encouraged
to follow our dreams, in a very clear way.
How did you connect with musical theatre growing
up in L.A.?
Television was what we
paid attention to. My parents would sit me
and my brother and sister down in front of
the television to watch all the Broadway
shows that were aired back then. And
I was always dancing so I loved watching
dance in movie musicals.
Did you study dance as a young girl?
Is it true that your first ever Broadway audition
was for Bob Fosse and that you got the
job?
That is true! I did not,
however, do the audition that is in the show. I didn’t know
who anybody was and had no reason to be nervous
so I just had a great time. I think he
delighted in the fact that I had a passion
for what I was doing. I was hired for
a tour of “Chicago” that culminated
in my playing Velma to Chita Rivera’s
Roxie.
I guess the short answer
is that the 80’s
was an incredibly devastating time when I
lost practically every friend I had in the
dance world to AIDS. I did one last
performance in an all-Black production of “Boys
from Syracuse.” The idea was
to set it during the Harlem Renaissance,
but the Rodgers’ estate wasn’t
interested so there we were in our togas
feeling ridiculous. What struck me
was here are all these incredible African-American
actors with no proper work. I thought, “Well,
I could complain about it— or I could
start writing.”
Since Bubbly
Black Girl… was
first done by you as a performance piece,
can we assume that it’s autobiographical?
I
would say that it’s based loosely
on events from my life, but to shape it into
a story you have to play with the truth of
things to make it work dramatically. It
does follow the inner life track that I have—though
people close to me tell me I’m sometimes
an untrustworthy narrator!
Its progression is a development
model as it went from Musical Theatre Works
to the NAMT Festival and the O’Neill in 1998 and
on to Playwrights’ Horizons in 2000,
picking up every major cash award along the
way for you—the Richard Rodgers, the
Jonathan Larson, the Kleban Award—
That one was particularly
exciting because I was a dancer and the first
musical I ever saw that was not on TV was “A Chorus
Line.” And it was more money than
I’d ever seen, frankly, which afforded
me time to write.
The only misstep
was when the expected Broadway transfer
not happening.
Break my heart! There was so much excitement
about it. I heard they did market surveys
and couldn’t figure out the market for
it, which I don’t understand. Even
at Dixon Place when I was performing the piece
myself, there were so many people who related
to it who were neither Black nor a girl. The
first person who came up to me and said, “I’m
the Bubbly Black Girl!” was an Asian man! I
just don’t know. The bottom line is:
it got done, people liked it and now it gets
done in other places. It always makes
a connection with people.
Now that there’s
finally going to be an original cast album,
perhaps even more interest will be generated.
Yes,
I am thrilled. What really delighted
me was that when I asked the original cast
to come back to do it, they jumped in as if
the show was going on today. They were
all so lovely and fun to work with on the album. I’ve
heard it and it sounds “pretty gosh darn
good!”
Has your involvement
with TDF’s “Open
Doors” [a program that puts groups
of students from New York City’s public
high schools together with theatre mentors
for a year of theatergoing] given you hope
that the Broadway audience could become
more diverse?
Yes, the program
is extraordinary. The
kids lap it up—and I learn so much
from them. I will always love
Wendy Wasserstein for initiating it because
what she did has made a ripple that can change
the fabric of our society. She got
kids who thought theatre is only for privileged
people—and, frankly, privileged White
people—who’ve now found themselves
part of that audience. I
think that’s wonderful. She planted
a seed that flowers and grows.
One last question-- how did you come
up with the title?
It seemed
to be the perfect thing to say because it
was all about shedding— stopping
hiding, stopping trying to be other people. My
nephew, who was about three years old at
the time, suggested “Auntie Kirsten’s
Rock & Roll,” but I think I chose
the better one.
--Suzanne
Bixby
Photo: Max
Ruby
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