“How To Dance In Ohio” : Telling Your Own Story
by Ashley Griffin, Guest Editorial
A while back I wrote an article about representation, specifically if actors should be cast based on personal identity. That’s a complex conversation that I go into in more depth in that article, but right now I’d like to talk about when telling your own story goes really, really right - the power it holds and the impact it can make.
I remember the first time I saw “Wicked”. It was in previews and I managed to snag a ticket at the eleventh hour. It was one of the most powerful moments in the theater I’ve ever had – because it was the first time I ever saw myself onstage. It was an ugly duckling moment. I’d seen shows where I’d gone “Oh, I’d really love to play that role”, but this was different. By the time Elphaba got to “The Wizard and I” I was crying.
“Oh my God. That’s ME. That’s my story.”
Elphaba (and Idina Menzel) hit me on several levels. The first was technical. I naturally have a big, wide range, belty voice… and I’d been spending years trying to make it conform to a Golden Age style (not to say I can’t sing, or don’t love singing Golden Age material… but I knew that, unlike other brilliant performers I saw around me, I just wasn’t naturally “built” for Laurie in “Oklahoma.”) THIS was my voice – and its power was beautiful. Idina looked like me – I don’t have that traditional button nose, all American “musical theater” look. But more than that, and most importantly, Elphaba’s story was my story.
From her backstory growing up, to the way she was treated by her classmates, to dreaming of meeting the Wizard and wanting to be “degreenified”, to her hope, to watching that hope crushed, and her power that she didn’t know how to control or what to do with. Seeing that performance changed my life – again in both technical and emotional ways. It led me to my working with my long time voice teacher (the great Tania Travers) who helped me, literally, find my unique voice as an artist … but it also galvanized me to embrace what made me unique – and to bring that to the stories I pursued telling. To know that my story was important and worthwhile. There’s a wonderful quote from Alan Bennett’s “The History Boys”:
“The best moments in reading are when you come across something – a thought, a feeling, a way of looking at things – which you had thought special and particular to you. Now here it is, set down by someone else, a person you have never met, someone even who is long dead. And it is as if a hand has come out and taken yours.”
That’s what happened for me at that performance of “Wicked” and it’s what I now hope to do for others.
Unfortunately not everyone has that experience, especially with the way commercial theater has been largely choosing it’s projects in the last decade or so.
Now I’m not saying that in order for this experience to happen a role must be played by someone who 100% identifies with the character they’re portraying (that can be a problematic way of thinking again, read my article linked above), but when such a choice goes right it has the potential to be incredibly powerful. On the slightly smaller scale, writers being in their own works can bring an electric, vital, deeply honest element to the story being told. On the larger scale it can completely change the conversation about a demographic that has been all but absent from the conversation in the first place.
“How to Dance in Ohio”, the new musical that opened this past week on Broadway (based on the HBO documentary of the same name) follows a group of autistic young people as they prepare for a formal spring dance.
All of the autistic characters in the show are played by autistic performers.
This is especially poignant as, part of the impetus for making the documentary was to focus a discussion on autistic young adults and their particular challenges coming of age and going out into the adult world.
So much of the current conversation about autism is focused on autistic children, but how autistic individuals navigate the transition into adulthood, including everything from potentially starting romantic relationships, to getting a job, etc. is rarely a part of our cultural conversation.
Not only is the actual story of “How to Dance in Ohio” focused on these questions, but the actors themselves are actively answering them just by their presence onstage. Yes, autistic adults can thrive in every way that neurotypical people can – including as Broadway stars.
In fact, this is the first time that there has been a Broadway musical about autistic characters, played by actors who are openly on the spectrum.
And, more than that, the needs of the cast were taken into account at every stage of production. The rehearsal room was specifically designed to make working more comfortable by minimizing a variety of challenges. “Ohio” star Desmond Edwards says:
“I have a lot of sound sensitivities. They include whistling, chewing the sounds of pencils on paper even.”
And the production worked to minimize those (and other sensitivities) within the environment. They also hired Ava Rigelhaupt as ASD (Autism Spectrum Disorder) Consultant. Ms. Rigelhaupt is on the autism spectrum herself and, to my knowledge, this is the first time a Broadway production has utilized an ASD Consultant.
Eyewitness News ABC7NY said:
“Those who financed Broadway shows didn’t love the idea of this film as a source for a musical. “ Director, Sammi Cannold adds: “A lot of people said to us, ‘The show stars seven autistic individuals I don’t think you’re going to be able to cast it with seven autistic actors.’”
But they found more than enough performers.
Producer Fiona Rudin says:
“All of these myths just got exploded for all of us by working on this show…” Adding that the beauty of it is now the audience can experience the same transformation.
You may remember a couple years back when Sia’s film “Music” was lambasted (for many reasons) but chief among them was the casting of neurotypical actress Maddie Ziegler as the title character – the autistic young girl Music. This was exasperated by Sia’s comments about the casting of Music. The Guardian reported:
“Sia claims that casting an autistic performer at Music’s ‘level of functioning’ would be cruel. Putting aside the fact that functioning labels are outmoded and offensive (indeed, ‘functioning’ is rarely static), being nonverbal doesn’t necessarily mean lacking in agency….But let’s assume that Sia is being sincere in assuring us that a nonverbal perfomer, cast prior to Ziegler, found the production process too stressful: she could have still cast an autistic actress. Just this past year alone we’ve seen Lillian Carrier and Kayla Cromer captivate audiences in Josh Thomas’s ‘Everything’s Going To Be Okay’, while Australian autistic self-advocate and TikTok star Chloe Hayden is a star on the rise. It’s not that autistic people are underrepresented in acting classes (quite the opposite); more that filmmakers aren’t willing to give them a chance. If Sia was prepared to, as she claims, ‘cast thirteen neuro-atypical people’ in supporting and featured roles, why not extend that approach to the role of Music herself?"
In response to this issue, Ashley Wool, who is now appearing in “How to Dance in Ohio” responded in an op-ed on this site, where she stated:
“My anger stems from the fact that Sia knowingly and deliberately packaged an offensive, reductive, and infantilizing appropriation of our neurology as self-aggrandizing inspiration porn for consumption by non-autistics.”
It is important to note that everyone on the autism spectrum is different… as the adage goes “if you’ve met one autistic person you’ve met one autistic person.” Some with autism do not enjoy performing publicly and doing so would not be a good fit for their needs. But others do – and largely have not been given the opportunity to do so, especially at a commercial level.
And the hope would be that “How to Dance in Ohio” not only opens the door for more autistic stories featuring autistic performers, but autistic performers in roles that aren’t centrally about being autistic.
Because the other magical thing about sharing your unique story, is that you find out just how universal it actually is, and how none of us are really that different. In experiencing a show about autism, told by autistic artists ,it becomes clear how similar those with ASD and those who are neurotypical are. One of the lyrics in “How to Dance in Ohio” is:
“Maybe we all have this in common
Whatever kind of person you like
Certain that as soon as you tell them
Disaster will strike”
Another lyric says:
“Going places
I am going places
There are places I need to be
But most of the spaces that I want to get to
Were not designed for me”
Those are universal experiences. Those with ASD are just unique in their journey through it, just as every one of us is unique in our journey.
So here’s sending a big “Happy Opening Week!” to “How to Dance in Ohio” – an opportunity to celebrate unique stories being told, and how universal they really are.