Arts & Entertainment
Queery: D’Arcee Charington Neal
The Gay Men’s Chorus baritone answers 20 gay questions
D’Arcee Charington Neal got in the Gay Men’s Chorus by the narrowest of margins.
A friend was auditioning back in August and Neal asked about it. Initially thinking he’d missed the deadline, he double checked the date and realized about 3 p.m. on the final day, he had until 5 to try out, so he did. He had never heard the Chorus or even realized there was such an outfit, but is enjoying his first season with the group. He sings baritone. Next weekend, the group gives three performances of its “Winter Nights” show at Lisner Auditorium (730 21st Street, NW; gmcw.org for details).
Neal is excited for the show.
“It will just be marvelous,” Neal says. “I’ve never really seen anything like it. … It’s everything from Bollywood to West African holiday music to traditional Latin choral arrangements.”
Neal, a 26-year-old Cary, N.C., native, came to Washington in 2007 for an internship. After completing a master’s degree (in creative and professional wiring) at London’s University of Roehampton, he returned to the District mostly because the Metro system makes it easy for him to get around.
“People in D.C. make fun of it, but they really have no idea,” he says. “From a disabled person’s perspective, it’s really the best thing in the U.S. I’ve ridden almost every underground in the country and D.C.’s is by far the best I’ve ever been on.”
Neal is single and lives in College Park, Md. He’s looking for writing work and says his disability has made finding employment difficult. He eventually wants to move into the District.
In his free time, he enjoys writing, cooking, singing and playing Call of Duty.
How long have you been out and who was the hardest person to tell?
I’ve been out since I was 17, and it was definitely my parents. My mother looked me in my face and said that she wished that I would have gotten AIDS and died so they could’ve mourned me and moved on already. That’s rough. But I know as older black people, they come from a different time. And as a disabled black person, they feel like I already have two strikes on my life, so they think being gay is something else I’m adding to make my life harder. (Editor’s note — Neal’s mother, Katherine Neal e-mailed the Blade and said she never said this.)
Who’s your LGBT hero?
Lady Gaga. Outside of being outrageously talented, I can’t think of anyone who genuinely works for the good of the gays and really believes in what they do, on her level. As a megastar she could be about anything, but she has taken this platform up, and I can’t thank her enough for it.
What’s Washington’s best nightspot, past or present?
I was a huge fan of club Apex. Coming from Bible Belt North Carolina, it was like this holy megaplex of debauchery. Multiple floors of thumping bass, and flashing lights, and all those shirtless men!
Describe your dream wedding.
Oh God, I’ve spent forever fantasizing about this. Probably in the courtyard of the Louvre Museum at night, candles everywhere standing in front of that glass pyramid, black and white roses scattered the ground. But my tux would be the star of the show. People don’t seem to understand that when you’re in a wheelchair you never get to be passionate about clothes, because half the time you can’t show them off! I’d want a three foot white silk train on the back of my coat draped down behind my chair in between the wheels and a matching fedora with a veil attached over my face. It’d be the most fabulous thing since J-Lo’s “The Dress.”
What non-LGBT issue are you most passionate about?
Without a doubt, disability acceptance in America. For the life of me, I cannot understand why disabled unemployment is at 75 percent, compared to the national average of 7.9 percent. … It feels like as a country, America is choosing to leave us behind. My parents fought to make sure I had a good education, and graduating from London in 2011, with my master’s degree, I felt like they did a great job. But the reality is, I’ve been unemployed for nearly two years, and while I’m waiting for the right opportunity, my disability makes employers believe I can’t work as a waiter, or in a grocery store or as a barista. And so I, like a lot of people, live off benefits, in an attempt to wait the economy out. And it’s not just me. This is the situation for lots of recent graduates with disabilities.
What historical outcome would you change?
I think I’d go back to the day Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. got shot and stop that. I honestly believe that a lot of the drama and the situations that Americans have been through since the end of Civil Rights (gangs, drugs, welfare, 9-11, education gaps, etc.) wouldn’t be half of what they are today.
What’s been the most memorable pop culture moment of your lifetime?
I think that would have to be when I sat in a room with Nikki Giovanni practically by myself and talked with her for half an hour. This woman embodies the last of everything my parents talk about in regards to American history, and she’s simply phenomenal in every way.
On what do you insist?
That there is no better food on earth than in the American Southeast.
What was your last Facebook post or Tweet?
Turducken is a deliciously grotesque mutation of God’s humblest creations.
If your life were a book, what would the title be?
“Life is Like a [Multifacted, Hypersensitive, Cracked, Racist, Overrated and Underappreciated] Box of Chocolates”
If science discovered a way to change sexual orientation, what would you do?
Read the fine print for the inevitably horrible side effects.
What do you believe in beyond the physical world?
Existence beyond emotions. An end to caring.
What’s your advice for LGBT movement leaders?
Consider all of your audience, and not just the popular section.
What would you walk across hot coals for?
Love. Someone who sees me a whole person, not in sections.
What LGBT stereotype annoys you most?
The idea that all gay men are weak and feminine. I’ve dated some men who could rip phonebooks in half, as well as a 2008 Olympian.
What’s your favorite LGBT movie?
“To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything, Julie Newmar.” Noxzema is a chocolate goddess.
What’s the most overrated social custom?
Hugging. Being in a wheelchair, people are always so awkward about it. Either do it right, or don’t.
What trophy or prize do you most covet?
Probably my master’s degree from London. Considering what I had to do to get it, it definitely took the most work.
What do you wish you’d known at 18?
That I am not ugly or broken, and that not all men mean what they say.
Why Washington?
Two words: The Metro.
Arts & Entertainment
In an act of artistic defiance, Baltimore Center Stage stays focused on DEI
‘Maybe it’s a triple-down’
By LESLIE GRAY STREETER | I’m always tickled when people complain about artists “going political.” The inherent nature of art, of creation and free expression, is political. This becomes obvious when entire governments try to threaten it out of existence, like in 2025, when the brand-new presidential administration demanded organizations halt so-called diversity, equity and inclusion (DEI) programming or risk federal funding.
Baltimore Center Stage’s response? A resounding and hearty “Nah.” A year later, they’re still doubling down on diversity.
“Maybe it’s a triple-down,” said Ken-Matt Martin, the theater’s producing director, chuckling.
The rest of this article can be found on the Baltimore Banner’s website.
‘La Lucci’
By Susan Lucci with Laura Morton
c.2026, Blackstone Publishing
$29.99/196 pages
They’re among the world’s greatest love stories.
You know them well: Marc Antony and Cleopatra. Abelard and Heloise. Phoebe and Langley. Cliff and Nina. Jesse and Angie, Opal and Palmer, Palmer and Daisy, Tad and Dixie. Now read “La Lucci” by Susan Lucci, with Laura Morton, and you might also think of Susan and Helmut.

When she was a very small girl, Susan Lucci loved to perform. Also when she was young, she learned that words have power. She vowed to use them for good for the rest of her life.
Her parents, she says, were supportive and her family, loving. Because of her Italian heritage, she was “ethnic looking” but Lucci’s mother was careful to point out dark-haired beauties on TV and elsewhere, giving Lucci a foundation of confidence.
That’s just one of the things for which Lucci says she’s grateful. In fact, she says, “Prayers of gratitude are how I begin and end each day.”
She is particularly grateful for becoming a mother to her two adult children, and to the doctors who saved her son’s life when he was a newborn.
Lucci writes about gratitude for her long career. She was a keystone character on TV’s “All My Children,” and she learned a lot from older actors on the show, and from Agnes Nixon, the creator of it. She says she still keeps in touch with many of her former costars.
She is thankful for her mother’s caretakers, who stepped in when dementia struck. Grateful for more doctors, who did heart-saving work when Lucci had a clogged artery. Grateful for friends, opportunities, life, grandchildren, and a career that continues.
And she’s grateful for the love she shared with her husband, Helmut Huber, who died nearly four years ago. Grateful for the chance to grieve, to heal, and to continue.
And yet, she says of her husband: “He was never timid, but I know he was afraid at the end, and that kills me down to my soul.”
“It’s been 15 years since Erica Kane and I parted ways,” says author Susan Lucci (with Laura Morton), and she says that people still approach her to confirm or deny rumors of the show’s resurrection. There’s still no answer to that here (sorry, fans), but what you’ll find inside “La Lucci” is still exceptionally generous.
If this book were just filled with stories, you’d like it just fine. If it was only about Lucci’s faith and her gratitude – words that happen to appear very frequently here – you’d still like reading it. But Lucci tells her stories of family, children and “All My Children,” while also offering help to couples who’ve endured miscarriage, women who’ve had heart problems, and widow(ers) who are spinning and need the kindness of someone who’s lived loss, too.
These are the other things you’ll find in “La Lucci,” in a voice you’ll hear in your head, if you spent your lunch hours glued to the TV back in the day. It’s a comfortable, fun read for fans. It’s a story you’ll love.
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Theater
Minimal version of ‘Streetcar Named Desire’ heading to Dupont Underground
Director Nick Westrate on this traveling take on Williams’s masterwork
‘A Streetcar Named Desire’
Produced by The Streetcar Project
April 20-May 4
Dupont Underground
19 Dupont Circle, N.W.
Tickets start at $85.
Dupontunderground.org
An aggressively minimal version of Tennessee Williams’s “A Streetcar Named Desire” is poised to run at Dupont Underground (April 20-May 4), the nonprofit cultural space located in a repurposed, abandoned 1949 streetcar station beneath Dupont Circle.
The Streetcar Project’s production performs in site-specific spaces. It’s almost entirely without design elements. There is no steamy, cramped Vieux Carré apartment. You won’t see Blanche’s battered trunk exploding with cheap finery, faded love letters, and demands for back property taxes, or the familiar costumes.
Co-created by Lucy Owen (who stars as Blanche DuBois) and out director Nick Westrate in 2023, this traveling spare take on Williams’s masterwork about a fragile woman on the margins in conflict with her brutish brother-in-law seems a reaction to necessity. It’s also an exploration of whether, like Shakespeare’s “Henry V,” it can subsist on language alone.
With little distractions (even Blanche’s cultivated southern belle accent has been daringly stripped away), the spotlight shines almost solely on text. “This play holds that,” says Westrate, 42. “I remind the actors that the while there is plenty of movement, language is really the only game in town.”
New York-based Westrate, who’s best known as an esteemed actor with New York and regional credits including Prior Walter in János Szász’s production of “Angels in America” at Arena Stage, describes “Streetcar” as “the most perfect play on earth” but not one he thinks of acting in (“I’m not right for Stanley Kowalski or Mitch”) though he agreed to direct.
“These days if you’re not a not a movie star or an established director, you’re not likely to do “Streetcar.” So, for us, we have to be able to do it with almost nothing, on the New York subway if necessary. And that’s kind of how we built it.”
Westrate first experienced Dupont Underground while attending a staged reading. He was so obsessed with the space as a prospective place to take the production, he found it hard to concentrate. He says, “With its long, curved track and tunnel, Dupont Underground is a terrifying, beautiful room that carries so much metaphorical weight, so much possibility for our production.”
WASHINGTON BLADE: Is finding the right space for this “Streetcar” part of the thrill?
NICK WESTRATE: Whenever I enter a weird room or pass by an abandoned CVS, I try to figure out how we might do the show there, especially places that are dilapidated, architecturally odd, or possibly haunted. And each space we use, lends something to the production. The Rachel Comey store in Soho was a very Blanche coded space. And an artist’s workshop on Venice Beach in California with its huge saws and metal hooks lent raw imagery. The scenes between Blanche and Stanley near the end were absolutely terrifying.
BLADE: More recently that same bare bones production has played in more traditional spaces like the Wheeler Opera House in Aspen and San Francisco’s A.C.T. Is it hard to now go to Dupont Underground?
WESTRATE: Each time we do this we have to crack open the play again because the staging is entirely new, but we’re used to performing in unusual spaces and Dupont Underground rather takes us back to form. As a former streetcar station, it’s the most appropriate space we’ve had yet.
The cast will literally act on streetcar tracks and go without dressing rooms but they’re game, and because they have history and authorship over the work, the sacrifice is more meaningful than if they were just some hired guns.
BLADE: Audiences have an expectation, especially with a work they’re likely to know. How do they react seeing such an unadorned take on Williams’s American classic?
WESTRATE: For the first 10 or 15 minutes, they’re unsure. Then, you can pretty much see the audience members’ brains click in and their imaginations turn on. It’s like they’re scratching an itch that they didn’t even know they had.
BLADE: Did you and Lucy foresee gaining this kind of momentum behind your vision?
WESTRATE: Absolutely not. Lucy had a philosophy that we’ll just walk through open doors. Early on, we were given spaces and artists filled the seats, and increasingly we’ve begun to rent some spaces and attract more regular theatergoers.
We basically sell tickets in order to pay a living wage to artists involved. There isn’t some big institution or commercial producer who’s getting a lot of money from this. Audiences of all types seem to respond to this mode of making theater.
BLADE: In presenting “Streetcar” intermittently, usually with the same cast over three years in wildly varying venues, have you learned more about a piece that you already loved?
WESTRATE: Mostly I’ve come to realize that Blanche is the smartest character I’ve ever read in a play. She’s like Hamlet – tormented by dreams and terrified of death. She’s skilled at wordplay and always ahead of everyone else in the room. Also like Hamlet, people think she’s insane and she uses that to her advantage.
Blanche is certainly the Everest of roles for actresses and watching Lucy sort of break it apart in a different way than you’ve ever seen, and knowing that I’ve helped to facilitate this performance has been one of the great joys of my career.

