IN CONVERSATION WITH: Jonny Woo

What inspired you to create Suburbia, and how does it differ from your previous  performances? 

‘Suburbia’ evolved out of a season of cabaret performances I was making for  Bistrotheque, a restaurant and cabaret space I’ve been working at in East London for  twenty years. It’s a place where I can play with ideas and try things out and the theme  for the show came from the Pet Shop Boys song of the same name which I’d covered  before and some dresses I’d acquired which were very suburban in a way, chiffon and  lace and satin. In the show I played with some songs and ideas of the suburbs and the  city and so I got the basis of a show. It became a memoir piece as it’s very much my  story, and so many other peoples, of moving from small towns or the country into big  cities to find themselves or discover life. Was also writing some memoir prose if you like  and I extracted parts of this to make the narrative and ‘voila!” a show begins. I have  often shared parts of my story in solo shows when I worked with Soho Theatre back in  the early 2010’s, but this show is more personal and doesn’t skirt round honesty and  revelation. Since my last solo show with Soho Theatre, I’ve turned 50 and become sober  so I look at life differently to how I did then and with new reflection and clarity. 

Can you share more about the poetic and cabaret elements featured in the show? 

When I lived in NYC, I was involved in the performance art scene of The East Village, so I  used to create spoken word and abstract cabaret pieces with my friend Brandon Olson.  One of the pieces we made is in the show as it takes me back to a specific moment I’m referencing in time, also some reflective prose I wrote at the time following a walk  through the city in the snow. The show is a mix of stand-up, prose narrative and poetic  style which comes from abstracting from my memoir writing and editing down into verse  and placing alongside music. I have included also numbers from my cabaret repertoire  which I’ve made over the years; elements from more recognisable drag performance if  you like, my take on lip-syncs and burlesque, and songs also which help tell the story.  So, it’s full of variety in style with a thread weaving it all together. I hope it’s an exciting and thrilling ride to watch. 

What do you hope audiences will take away from this deeply personal performance? 

I hope people can see a universality in the parts of my story which I’m choosing to  share. It’s not a sad story, but it does have real highs and more thoughtful downbeats,  like all of our lives. I touch on addiction, but hopefully in a way which people can  experience viscerally and also the experience gay men had in the shadow of the AIDS  epidemic, where we grew up with a sense of inevitability, fear and stigma but still sought  to live the most fantastic life possible. Also, community is a theme; how we find and create our communities and how there are queer people on the margins of our  community who explore their identities in different ways to those we see in clubs and  bars. And I want people to have shared an exciting hour or so in the theatre with me and  leave upbeat, energised and with some things to think about. 

What does ‘alt-drag’ mean to you, and how has it evolved in your work?

‘Alt-drag’ was a phrase coined by Simone Baird a journalist who wrote about my work, and I’ve always felt it described my shows. I’ve always made stuff which is part improv,  abstract stream of consciousness, poetry and rap, storytelling, strip and lip-sync and  often with a sense of chaos. Is that ‘alt’? Often, I see my shows at one off ‘happenings’,  moments which never happen again, with unplanned elements, chance moments and  often with a sense of danger. It’s thrilling and scary to make this kind of performance. I  like seeing polished drag, but I also like to see performers who ‘fall apart’ onstage or  allow us to see through the foundation. It’s very much the kind of drag we encourage at  The Divine. This show also sets my style closer to transvestism rather than today’s  popular drag style. I love messing about with dresses and wigs and heels and it’s in a  way in which I used to when I started out and most of the dresses are inherited if you  like; the story of how, is in the show. So, I haven’t had lots of elaborate garments made,  like I would for big gigs for example, but I play and share my tale in these romantic  dresses, you very much see me on stage and who I am in a playful way. I think twenty  years or so now of doing drag my style remains pretty constant and it’s good to be going  back and exploring drag, my way. 

What lessons from your journey so far would you share with emerging performers in the LGBTQI+ scene? 

Don’t let drink and drugs get in the way of making performance or your success. It’s the  biggest hurdle for lots of people. Do your own thing, put in the work and be nice. When we start out, we have dreams of where we’d like to get to; it’s good to set the drag sat nav to where you want to go, but it might just do its own thing and take you on an  unexpected route. Enjoy the ride because regardless of where you end up it’s the  journey there that mattered and who you met along the way, not the destination.