Ryan Stewart on Kinder: 'I'm playing with the drag version of a court jester'
If there’s one thing guaranteed to get a gammon’s boxers in a twist, it’s someone in drag reading a story to a bunch of kids. Jo Laidlaw unwraps Kinder, a Fringe debut by Australian performer Ryan Stewart that brings fresh perspective to a well-worn cultural battleground
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Drag. Queen. Story. Hour. Four little words that seemed to single-handedly ignite the modern chapter of our so-called culture wars. They’re also the entry point for Kinder, a one-person play created and performed by Melbourne-based Ryan Stewart. ‘I wasn’t even thinking about writing a show, but this stuff was happening in the news about drag storytime,’ recalls the actor/theatre-maker/producer. ‘I thought it was funny that reading hours were being attacked, because if you asked a drag artist “what’s a reading hour?”, they’d think it’s a roast. Then I thought, what would happen if a drag performer misinterpreted a booking, rocked up to a library, saw a bunch of protestors and was like “fuck! I did not know it was going to be this.” That was the seed.’
The resulting play isn’t simply a defence of story hour, but an examination of censorship and where it leads. Sole character Goody Prostate’s lederhosen and German accent point the way. ‘The Emcee from Cabaret has always interested me; my family heritage is German. The Weimar Republic, where being openly queer was accepted, was pretty radical considering where Germany went after that.’ Stewart has never performed as a drag artist, despite a long-term interest in drag culture and queer history, and is quick to point out that Goody isn’t simply a queen: the character merges drag, clown and theatre. ‘Much of drag’s roots came from Shakespeare. Now, there’s almost two extremes: queens looking incredibly feminine or kings looking incredibly masculine. Neither extreme was appealing, so I created an androgynous clown character, playing with the drag version of a court jester, with their privilege to mock the powers-that-be from a position of safety. Think of the Fool in King Lear that sits alongside the people in power and slowly chips away.’
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There’s also a classic beginning, middle and end story arc, underpinned by fabulous costumes and a set design full of easter (Kinder?) eggs; for example, one of the picture books on stage was banned in Sydney’s libraries for a while. ‘It’s that classic fairytale idea,’ explains the self-declared nerd who Zooms from a room full of books (all real, no filter). Kinder is also a story about stories and, of course, libraries. ‘The library is one of the few places you can go where you don’t have to spend money, you can just exist. You can pick up a book. You can read. You can borrow the book. You can use its ideas. If you pitched the idea of libraries to governments today, you’d be chased down the street with a pitchfork and called a communist.’
The irony that libraries have become such battlegrounds does not surprise Stewart. ‘Books and stories hold this weight across our history. Every time there’s a regime change, they attack books and libraries. Look at the history of the printing press: when books became a tool that anyone could have, it was disliked by the powerful. Just like today’s moral panics, there was a moral panic then around what it would mean if everyone could pick up something and read it. People know knowledge is power; as soon as people can read, they have a greater ability to self-actualise.’
Yet Stewart, and ultimately Goody, don’t blame the protestors. ‘They’re being told the story that they need to oppose this and don’t see the symbols and disinformation that brought us to this place. They’re just being told that their child is being preyed upon, in a library of all places. But, ultimately, it’s all so innocent. It’s just gathering around a book.’
Kinder, Underbelly Cowgate, until Sunday 24 August, 6.40pm.