KIRYA TRABER
Kirya Traber is a nationally awarded playwright, actress, and cultural worker. She is the lead Community Artist in Residence at Lincoln Center in New York, and her work will be featured in the spring of 2020 Hi-ARTS Critical Breaks series in New York City. In this interview, she talks about her recent and upcoming stage projects, her creative influences, and her work as a TV and podcast host.
Interview by Uzomah Ugwu
Which particular plays or theatrical performances made you want to start a career in the performing arts?
The very first live theatre that I ever saw (or remember seeing) was when I was about six years old. It was a puppet performance of the Secret Garden, which was a book I’d already started to read with my mom. I remember being blown away that something I’d imagined in my head could come to life in three dimensions. But before I considered performance art something I could do myself, I fell in love with the written word. We had a program in elementary school called “California Poets in the Schools,” and in the third grade a local poet and visual artist, Gerry Grace, came to our class. She led us in an exercise: “Close your eyes,” she said, “and imagine a house, and a little yard around it, and a garden in that yard, and then a fence around the garden. Now jump over that fence. That’s where poetry is.” My life was forever changed.
In high school I had a great drama teacher who introduced me to Edward Albee, and other sharp witted playwrights whose writing helped me make sense of what was an often challenging, and sometimes chaotic, childhood. At some point I was introduced to slam poetry, which, as a young person, was a great outlet for both artistic craft, and for self-expression. Competing with my own writing in a poetry slam was probably the first time I was able to “define myself, for myself” (as Audre Lorde would say) and people actually listened to me and affirmed my self determination. That was my gateway to the stage. I would say I wasn’t “properly” introduced to live theater until a bit later in life.
How did receiving your MFA in acting from the New School prepare you better for roles? How did it also help you to develop the characters in your plays?
Grad school is a complicated subject. I definitely wouldn’t be doing the work I am now if I hadn’t gotten my MFA and made the professional connections that I did a the New School. But as a Black queer woman the entire experience was really fraught. I’m grateful for a few individual teachers, and a few of my peers, for what they taught me. Things like Alexander Technique and Grotowski really gave me an awareness of my body that I use as an actor and in life generally. Practice in scene study helped me understand the structure of a play. And so on.
But there was a lot about the experience that put me on the defense about my values and the validity of my identity. So much of formal theatre education is about reinforcing social and cultural norms and calling it “technique.” I struggled to feel respected and even safe in my classes, and so did a lot of my peers. Grad school made me more of a fighter — more of a leader — than I had been before. I’d been politically active since the early 2000s. I joined the anti-war movement in my freshman year of college in 2002, then later I organized against the death penalty, for queer and trans rights, and against police brutality. But I was always a part of large grassroots coalitions in the Bay Area, and I had incredible mentors who were veteran activists. When a particular political campaign was really challenging, I looked to others to lead us through.
Moving to New York, three thousand miles from my community, I had to be the leader I needed, and that was a huge shift in my sense of self and my goals in the arts. I learned the most about developing characters as a writer through lived experience. I’ve always been an observer. I was definitely one of those kids with a notebook jotting down observations of the world around me wherever I went. And that’s never really stopped. I find people fascinating, and contradictory, and painfully beautiful. I always want to know more about what makes an individual decide what action to take, and if I’m watching a play or movie with poorly written characters whose actions make no sense, I will definitely point it out. You probably don’t want to watch a play or movie with me if you’re not interested in my post show commentary!
Can you explain your role and core duties as lead Community Artist in Residence with Lincoln Center Education? What are some of your primary goals for the residency?
The Community Artist Residency is a program that I co-developed with a few really smart colleagues at Lincoln Center Education. The program invites artists whose work is rooted in collaborative community practice to develop new work over three or more years. I recently started a new piece that’s still very new (it doesn’t even have a name yet!) but I want to use the performing arts to talk about poverty in a transformative way. There are three of us in residence currently, and as the lead artist and co-founder of the program, I do a bit of peer mentorship, and I advise on the development of the program. We’re working on some creative ways to document our process. There will be some exciting public events and updates later in 2020.
How important is it to have arts and social justice intersect in the performing arts? In what ways do you make it a point to include aspects of social justice in each performance, even in productions that you have not solely created?
The way I think about social justice is through the lens of anti-oppression. Oppression is (unfortunately) everywhere. It’s systemic, and is very much alive and well in the performing arts. It’s not a coincidence that the Harvey Weinstein scandal that really mobilized the #metoo movement happened in the performing artist industry. I try to be aware of the ways I’m playing into oppression and I try to interrupt that. I try to be vigilant when I see oppression playing out around me, and I try to interrupt that and to support others capacity to speak up and help shift the norms. I think a lot about process, about the way that a work of art is developed. Who has power, control, safety, and the ability to take risks? What are ways we can distribute those things more evenly in any given artistic project? And yes, I do think that the arts can be a part of impactful social change, but that’s not a given. It has to be intentionally wielded.
What were some of the major projects you developed over the past few years, and what were your inspirations for them? Could you also talk about some key projects you are focusing on for 2020?
I’ve made a lot of art in the last few years! It’s been a pretty awesome ride. I’ve been in more collaborative works and new plays than there’s space in this interview to recount. A lot of the projects that were my personal creations have been autobiographically inspired. My solo show Overheard was about the ways public spaces police queer-non-conforming bodies. Both My Grandfathers was a play with music that turned my family lore into a dark and fantastic adventure story.
My fascination with interview and archival theatre has led me to collaborate with some amazing arts institutions like New York downtown theatre legend Ping Chong + Company, and the New York Philharmonic. But like many artists, I’m probably most in love with my new work. Other than the (yet to be named) piece I’m working on at Lincoln Center, I’ve got two other works in progress. I’m writing a musical, If This Be Sin, with composer Sissi Liu about a Harlem Renaissance performer and 1930s queer icon Gladys Bentley. That piece will be in residence at the Kennedy Center this spring, and have a public reading at Hi-Arts in May 2020. I’m also writing a new play, Lucky, (no music in this one!) set in the late 90s in rural northern California. It’s a coming of age story about a Black girl in an all white town that also happens to be in the center of California’s (then) illegal weed economy. And yes, it’s based on my own personal experiences! Hoping for some public readings of this in the summer of 2020.
Gladys Bentley
Your solo show Overheard had a successful national tour. Do you see yourself doing another solo show anytime soon, or taking your latest projects on the road?
Overheard was my first full length show, and my first piece out of grad school. My director and I hustled hard and made some incredible connections across the country, and basically “toured” the show to a few cities on a negative budget. It was definitely rewarding, but also labor intensive. I’m sure my work will travel, nationally and internationally, but at the moment I’m focusing on developing the work where it’s really supported — financially! As for solo shows, I’m less interested in the form than I once was. I still perform, but I prefer ensemble work and collaborative pieces. And more often than not I’m finding myself in the “writer’s” chair. I love watching brilliant actors breath life into my words.
Kirya Traber and Isake Smith, hosts of Cheers & Queers - photo by Oscar Diaz
How was the podcast Cheers & Queers developed? What are some of your inspirations for it? How does it differ from the PBS show First Person that you also co-host?
Cheers & Queers is a labor of love with a dear friend, Isake Smith. I believe we were chatting on Facebook one day and she mentioned wanting to start a podcast, and I said something like “I’ve always wanted to have my own podcast” and the rest is history! We’re both Black queer femmes, and giant nerds, and we love to talk shit and politics and whatnot, all while having a drink. I wish we got to record episodes more often, but we aren’t sponsored (yet!) so the podcast is on a little hiatus.
First Person was a very different project. Another great collaboration that I’m honored to have been a part of. PBS launched the digital series in 2016, I think? I was hired as one of four new hosts for the second and third season. My co-hosts and I lead some interviews and hosted panel discussions on current issues and queer identity. I also got to create some content for NYC schools about queer icons such as James Baldwin, Lorraine Hansberry, and Audre Lorde. We were really trying to carve out space and a voice for queer people of color in public broadcasting. I think we had some incredible moments (were were nominated for a New York Emmy)! Most of us have gone on to other projects now, but I dearly love my co-hosts and the producers that brought the show to life. I’d love to work with any and all of them again!
Check for updates and read more about Kirya’s work on her site, Instagram, and Twitter
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Uzomah Ugwu is a poet, writer, and activist. Her core focus is on human rights, mental health, animal rights and the rights of LGBTQ persons. Her writing has been featured in Prelude Magazine, Tuck Magazine, Voices of Eve and Light Journal, and is forthcoming in the Angel City Review and the Scarlet Leaf Review. She is the Contributing/Poetry Editor for A Tired Heroine magazine. Her love for art comes from a passion instilled by her mother. Some of her favorite artists include Louis Bourgeois, Jarlath Daly, Gauguin, Lamidi Olonde Fakeye, and Jackson Pollack.
