Kelsy Schoenhaar
Christie Stadele on stage with Encore Studio for the Performing Arts production
Christie Stadele in the Encore Studio for the Performing Arts production "Material World."
For more than three years, the stage has been dark at the Encore Studio for the Performing Arts, Wisconsin’s first professional theater company for people with disabilities. The lights finally went on again June 9 for its current show, Material World, four new and original short plays that celebrate the ways those with disabilities present their bodies to the world but also the challenges they sometimes face in doing so. It was clear that everyone — performers, crew and audience — was thrilled to be back in the Mary Dupont Wahlers Theatre after the long, pandemic-induced break. Performances continue on June 16, 17 and 18.
Material World opens with “Disability Ink,” a short about body modification written by Encore’s executive assistant, Sarah Schoenhaar. Casey, a man with cerebral palsy, exerts his independence at a tattoo parlor while his nondisabled sister, Amy, grapples with her responsibility as his caregiver. This humorous piece (with no fewer than three Shrek jokes) had the audience laughing hard. The actors consume an impressive number of Little Debbie and Hostess snack cakes onstage, which adds to the boisterous tone. The play slows for some reflective moments, too. “Don’t you know that tattoos are painful?” Amy asks at one point, trying to talk her brother out of getting a tattoo. “I’m in pain every day,” Casey replies — both the humor and the poignant notes land on target.
“Bare,” a solo musical written by Encore artistic associate Liam McCarty-Dick, is performed by the talented Christie Stadele. The piece opens with Stadele, who plays herself, rooting through a dresser as she picks out clothes for the day. (Despite the suggestive title, there is no nudity.) Without missing a beat, Stadele bursts into an irreverent rap that showcases her vocal chops, stage presence, and comedic timing with lines like “As long as my butt ain’t bare, who gives a fucking shit what the hell I wear?”
Another short by Schoenhaar, “Good Cause,” follows a group of adults with disabilities on a thrift store outing. Morgan, their overzealous, Marxist-minded leader, lectures about the evils of consumerism and the “devil” Jeff Bezos. As with Schoenhaar’s other short, this piece is full of hilarious chaos, though a bit more contrived than in “Disability Ink.”
The mood becomes more serious in “Not the Right Fit,” written by Encore artistic director Heather Renken. Three people with disabilities interview for jobs but face challenges when they learn about uniform or clothing expectations. For example, a man applying to clean hotel rooms is expected to wear a uniform with a collar despite his tactile defensiveness, a sensitivity related to his autism that makes wearing collars unbearable. While at times this piece comes off as more of a public service announcement than a story, it is an enlightening look at how dress codes can exclude people and shut out great talent.
The night ends with a high-energy fashion show during which all the performers model their favorite outfit, while RuPaul songs pulse in the background. It’s an exuberant way to end an already high-energy quartet of plays. Christie Stadele made a particular impression in a gorgeous sequined dress and pink feather boa. This portion of the show was partially unscripted, which made for a few awkward silences, but the hosts kept things moving.
With its combination of funny and weighty moments, Material World communicates important themes about the lives, needs, rights and autonomy of people with disabilities. Stories that center characters with disabilities are rarely seen on the stage. Some members of the audience — including me — were watching a show doing this for the first time. At times it took extra effort to hear or understand certain lines, but it was worth it.
After three years off the stage, the Encore performers are anything but rusty. Material World is spirited, thoughtful and a lot of fun.