It’s a snowy Sunday afternoon in Georgetown, but inside the seemingly ancient walls of the Duke Ellington School of the Arts in Georgetown, it’s a circus.
Vibrant colors, dancing girls, elephants and…donkeys?
Hexagon, the 51-year-old all-volunteer political satire troupe that draws significant membership from Northern Virginia, is prepping its 2007 production called “Strike While the Irony’s Hot.” After two months of intense rehearsal, its opening number — which recasts Capitol Hill as a bipad out to polished near-perfection by Hexagon’s enthusiastic cast.
“You have got to want to make people laugh,” said Michael Bruno, a performer from Ballston, emphatically. “It’s critical, and it’s very empowering. We find people here that have never done satire before, and they get up and maybe get the first laugh they’ve ever gotten from a crowd. It’s very addictive. You can’t go back.”
It needs to be addictive, considering the massive time commitment it demands — several nights a week, from Jan. 4 through the show’s closing — and the fact that Hexagon’s membership is made up of volunteering professionals ranging from ages 22 to 70.
“A lot of the people who get involved with it are hams, but this is a big time commitment, man,” said Chad Ramsey, a cast member from Alexandria. “It’s hard to say it could be done if there wasn’t a big check at the end that goes to charity.”
Proceeds from this year’s production, which begins its run on March 3 and goes for 17 shows at the Ellington School on 3500 R Street NW in Georgetown, will be donated to Ronald McDonald House Charities. They will go toward building a family room in a new House in D.C.; Julie Rosenthal, a performer who sits on the Hexagon board, said the goal this year is to raise $100,000.
What stands out about the theater company, besides its charity, is its camaraderie. When the final curtain falls on this year’s show, it doesn’t signal the end of the many relationships this experience fosters.
“It’s a year-round organization. In any kind of theater project, you develop a kind of family. The unique thing about Hexagon is that it doesn’t end at the end of the show,” said Ian Grossman, artistic director for this year’s production. “I don’t know what it is that keeps Hexagon together after the show, but it is special.”
MICHAEL BRUNO, 31, is a writer for Aviation Week magazine when he’s not singing and dancing in a political comedy revue. His wife, Mary Jean, is a teacher and another Hexagon performer.
“In a city where there are a lot of cliques, this is a very unique organization where there’s no dominant element to it,” said Michael. “You spend so much time with people that it’s very hard not to become very good friends with them. It’s sort of like a combat mentality, spending time in the foxhole with them.”
A few years ago, he met Mary Jean in his theatrical platoon. Both of them had been encouraged to give Hexagon a try by different friends, as both had been looking for an outlet for their dormant stage talents. But it was the social aspect of the group that also intrigued them.
“I knew only teachers, basically. It was good to meet other professionals,” said Mary Jean, 29. “I think people come to Hexagon from different angles: The ‘I want to meet people’ angle to the ‘I want to perform’ angle to the ‘I want to work for charity’ angle.”
Both agreed that the work in creating a show is intense. “It’s like a second job,” said Michael. “It helps that we’re married.”
Over the years, there has been a coupling aspect to Hexagon. Besides the Bruno's, Grossman met his wife Pauline — this year’s choreographer — with the group, and Rosenthal’s husband and Hexagon member Mark McCaffrey proposed to her on stage after the final show in 2005.
“I had never seen the whole couple thing until 2005. I think it comes in waves,” Rosenthal said. “I want to give the impression that it’s a great place to meet people, but it’s so much more.”
FOR CHAD RAMSEY, Hexagon provides a chance to channel the spirit of another person.
He squints his eyes, gets an eyebrow going up, and begins to morph into a parody of the President. “Frighteningly,” Ramsey adds. “It feels like he just overtakes my body.”
Ramsey is Hexagon’s resident George W. Bush impressionist, although he calls his “Dubya” more of a caricature. “I haven’t heard him do much singing and dancing, and the George W. Bush in Hexagon does both,” he said. “There’s fertile ground with this President. His malapropisms, his manner of speech and the way he carries himself easily lend themselves to parody.”
Sending satirical barbs to Bush was a given for this year’s show; yet despite the need for topicality, much of what Hexagon does is created within a tight time period. Concepts for the show start in July, and every song and set piece is completely original. Songs and scripts are written beginning in September, with about 30 writers making the cut. The casting is done in December.
Targets this year range from hilarious observations about Democrats and Republicans to the skewering of infamous figures like Jack Abramoff and Mark Foley. (Respect must be given to a comedy troupe that works “Slobodan Milosevic” into its rhyme scheme.)
Of course, last year, there was a little election that shook some things up in the political landscape. “Election years present the challenge of waiting for the political stuff to pan out. But it’s not an unusual challenge because it happens every other year,” said Grossman.
There are nearly 50 cast members and another 100 people who donate time for everything from set design to selling tickets.
Grossman said many Broadway productions take years for workshops, road shows and rehearsals before the curtain rises. “And we have two months before opening.”
All the more reason Hexagon relies on its versatile group of performers for stability. Ramsey, for example, is in his third term as the resident Bush.
Like many other performers, Hexagon offered Ramsey a chance to get back on stage after nine years away from performing. A field director for the Brady Campaign to prevent gun violence, Ramsey had performed in theater during college and sang in a band.
Now, thanks to Hexagon, he’s the President — though not always.
“There was a number with a giant squid last year that was pretty remarkable,” he said.