KAIZAAD KOTWAL

evenm

10

GAY PEOPLE'S CHRONICLE June 13, 2003

'It's about the music, the songs'

Cast of 'Naked Boys Singing' frees themselves from body image concerns

by Kaizaad Kotwal

Sex sells. Nudity pulls in the bucks. Those who don't believe it have either been living under a rock or are in some sort of puritanically induced state of denial and delusion.

Like it or not, nudity as market allure is here to stay. It used to be that women were most often objectified in order to get some schmo to buy a certain brand of beer or a particular model of car. Today, naked male forms are equally likely to try and seduce the consumer into parting with hard-earned money.

Naked Boys Singing is an extension of a culture where erogenous zones are increasingly used to part customers and their cash in the quest for entertainment, consumer satisfaction or voyeurism.

Reality Theatre, which since leaving its home of 15 years has been residing at Axis Nite Club, is bringing seven naked, singing boys to Columbus.

Mollie Levin, head of the theater and its director, decided to do it because "it was the hottest off-Broadway commodity" she could bring to Ohio audiences.

"I wanted to end the season on a high note," she said.

Nicholas Georges, alum of the Columbus Children's Theatre, plays one of the boys who will bare all.

He said concerns about playing naked "hadn't really registered with me till last night when we had our first nude rehearsal."

Georges found that for him, the full nudity was not going to be an issue, "not with the cast at least." He may have "some hesitations with the audience" especially "superficial" fears.

"I worry about what the audience will think about my body," he says. "It could be better."

In a buffed-up, muscled, ripped world where body fascism is a new religion, it is understandable that Georges would desire a better body. Not that he, or anyone in the cast for that matter, has anything to be ashamed of when it comes to looks. The concerns of the cast about the way they will look naked are natural, though, given that many people go into paroxysms of panic simply contemplating a day at the beach in swimwear.

"No one in the cast is stereotypical of what audiences might expect when coming to see a show like this," Georges continues. "This is not a beefcake show and neither is it a strip show."

His concern about body image says a lot about society when a group of seven perfectly attractive, slim men seem to think that fat-free is perfection. And by that token, one has to wonder how much a show like this may add to cultural neuroses, feeding into cumulative obsessions with body image. But the flip side is that audiences may want nothing but "perfection," six-pack abs and buns of steel, if they're paying to see nudity.

Georges, Levin and all the others assert that the nudity is not what the show is about. "It's about the music, the songs," said Georges.

"After the opening number, after the novelty has worn off, the audience will not even focus on the nudity," Levin affirmed. "Some of the songs would work without nudity, but the others would not. Each scene and song is its own little joke, its own little drama, its own fun little moment, and the nudity adds a lot to that humor, that drama, and those fun little moments."

"Little" is not the best choice of words to use around a group of men who are going to be doing the full Monty for over 90 minutes. The big pink elephant in the room with a show like this, that everyone wants to talk about but won't, is the penis.

Another performer, Wayne Self, laughs loudly and says, "Yes, it is."

Laughing loudly once again, he says, "It's a bigger worry for some of us than the others." What Self was referring to as "the bigger worry for some" was the idea that accidental erections may be more relevant to some of the younger cast members, who he seems to suggest are more likely to get more easily aroused because of their youth.

Self fronts a band called the Afunkalypse and they play mostly in straight bars. Self thought that doing this show might give them "more exposure within the gay community." Said like that, he couldn't have chosen a better show.

When it comes to concerns about nudity, Self claims, "I am more comfy with taking my pants off than my shirt."

"It's that fitness thing," he says, once again bringing to light the pressures the cast must be feeling.

"It's just good old fashioned gay vanity," Self says, "and I am working on my fitness for this show. And anyone in this cast who says they are not dieting is lying."

And by the way," Self adds as a caveat, "there is no dieting I can do between now and then to be fat free."

This discussion about body fat is echoed in one of the songs in the play, which goes, “It's true for you and it's true for me, a gay man's gotta be fat free."

While one can laugh at the satirical overtones of the ditty, it is impossible not to wonder whether this show adds to an unattainable ideal within the gay male community.

Self, who has been partnered for nine years, had to confront the whole issue of public nudity with his boyfriend.

"He wanted to know why it was necessary to get up there naked," he says. “But, once I gave him the CD, he really came around because he now sees that the nudity is not gratuitous or alarmist, but rather it is clever and selfeffacing."

How can a show that involves all the men being naked all the time not be gratuitous? That is a question that can only be answered by seeing the show and making up one's own mind. Regardless of how noble Levin and the cast see the show, there are many people, mostly men, who will come to the show just to see the nudity. These people will not necessarily be theater lovers, nor will they have ever

heard a single refrain from the show.

"That's true," admits Self. In fact, the opening line of the show seems to be cognizant of this when it announces, "Tonight you finally get what you paid for."

"Regardless of the motivation of those who come to see it," Self adds, "there is something for everyone here."

Thomas Stephens, who works for the Ohio Alliance for Arts Education, wanted to do the show so he could get back to his roots in theater performance.

"This show is the ultimate stretch for a performer," he says, "because as an actor the idea of nudity as a costume is a tough one."

Stephens is "more concerned about the choreography and music being where it needs to be" than with letting it all hang out in front of a group of strangers. "The music material in this show is anything but easy," he concludes.

Unlike Self, whose partner will be watching him from the audience, Stephens gets to do the full Monty with his partner Trace Baxter, who is also in the show.

Being naked in the show together "is no problem" for the two of them. According to Stephens, "This has actually brought us closer together and taught us to articulate better with each other what we each need and want."

Fred Maurer, the youngest member of the cast at 18, is also the company's lone straight boy. He is using this production as a way of "experiencing something that will make me overcome a lot of fears about being in front of an audience."

"At first I was a little worried," Maurer said, "but now it's not really a problem because I am playing a role and I am detached from being naked."

Most of Maurer's friends at Point Park College in Pittsburgh are gay and this production has helped him "learn a lot about the gay community."

Having overcome their angst about the first nude rehearsal, the cast seems to have become quite comfortable being naked while singing and dancing together.

Stephens says that he has "been very impressed with the level of professionalism and brotherhood in the cast."

The other elephant in the room when talking about male nudity is size. Let's be honest, men, given the opportunity, will scope out the next guy to compare size, length, girth— the whole kielbasa, so to speak.

Self said that there had been no size competition among the cast. "Not yet at least," he qualifies.

Then, as he mentally goes through the seven cast members, he decides whether the size queens will be satisfied.

"Yes. (Pause) Yes. Hmmm. (Pause) Yes. Yes."

Then he bursts out laughing. Levin, with a wink, astutely says, "There's something for everyone here."

The lesbian director has had no qualms about working with a bunch of naked guys. "It's just not an issue because it's just part of the process."

She admits that her best theatrical experiences have always been "with either all-male or all-female casts."

Levin believes that audiences may come in because of the nudity, but that "they will be pleasantly surprised by the quality of the show and the professionalism of the performers."

Regardless of what one thinks about a show with so much skin, nudity sells and this show is likely to help Reality Theatre revitalize its coffers, which, like many other arts groups' funds, are in need of a big boost.

Naked Boys Singing will be flaunting its wares at the Axis Nite Club in Columbus from May 29 through June 21. If the run sells out there is a possibility of extending the show after the Pride Holiday festivities. Single tickets are $25, reserved tables of 4 are $120 and reserved booths for 4 are. $140. Show times are Thursday, Friday and Saturday at 8 p.m. with 7 p.m. shows on Sunday June 1 and 15. The show is for mature audiences only and no one under 18 will be allowed without a parent or guardian. For tickets and show times, visit www.realitytheatre.com.

Reality Theatre has yet to announce their new season due to the renovation schedule that Axis will be undergoing this summer. ✔