Sitting in the lobby of the American Stage Theatre Company in downtown St. Petersburg, I found myself constantly defending the two seats I was saving. The seasoned women who were eyeing my table were eager to get settled so they could listen to three women talk about vaginas. The Vagina Monologues, a play written by Eve Ensler, was well suited for the Lobby Cabaret performance that was given by three American Stage actresses. Audience members enjoyed beverages and sweets from the full bar in the back; an intimate venue for an intimate topic.
Jenny Peacock, Jaye Annette Sheldon, and Erica Sutherlin sat casually at the front of the lobby, their scripts in binders perched on music stands in front of them, and began the performance promptly at six. The word “vagina” was said at least fifteen times within the first five minutes, and Sheldon dove into her first monologue so quickly that there was no time for anyone to even begin to feel awkward about it.
The audience of mostly women (and a few brave men) listened to the three actresses portray several different characters each. Sometimes they signified a new character with a change in posture or a new accent; sometimes they just donned a stylish pair of glasses. There was a monologue from a woman whose husband cheated on her because she refused to shave for him. Another from a woman who had grown up too ashamed of her “down there” to even talk about it, and yet another from a woman who had a sexual encounter with a man who loved vaginas so much that he taught her how to love her own.
Even though there was an entire monologue where Sheldon only referred to her vagina as a “coochie snorcher,” Ensler’s episodic play isn’t entirely humorous. The audience wiped away their tears of laughter and fell silent as Peacock gave a monologue from the viewpoint of an Afghani woman who had been oppressed by the Taliban. This monologue, entitled “Under the Burqa,” is one of many monologues that have been added over the years to highlight current women’s issues.
The tone didn’t remain somber for long, though. Sutherlin soon delivered a monologue, from the viewpoint of a sex worker, which involved her acting out, in brazen accuracy, every type of orgasmic moan she’d ever heard. At this point in the play everyone had already abandoned their shyness and hesitation, and the entire audience was wiping their eyes and slapping their legs. The actresses were forced to pause briefly until the audience could regain their composure. When the play eventually came to a close, the room had an atmosphere of intimacy that only a 90-minute performance about vaginas could ever accomplish.
The Vagina Monologues is a performance that is undeniably one-of-kind, and satisfyingly provocative. Regardless of your age or whatever genitalia you’re equipped with, this play will leave you with laughter-bruised ribs, a heavy heart, and the ability to feel slightly more comfortable saying “vagina” in casual conversation.
Kara Delemeester can be reached at Kara.delemeester@spartans.ut.edu