Also this issue: Raising the Bar A look at Philly watering holes that offer more than just drinks to local artists. -Susan Hagen Tree of Life In Project Room's latest installation, Keiko Miyamori captures the spirit of the neighborhood in the roots of one of its trees. -Robin Rice Private Eyes -Lori Hill Eat, Shorts -Debra Auspitz Going Solo -Debra Auspitz

July 12-18, 2002

artpicks

Wig Out

Ashlea Halpern

One thing any drag queen worth his falsies knows is the ultra importance of being the diva, the firecracker, the reason people go weak in the knees. And Hedwig, a tortured rock star with ripe wet lips and an absurd collection of yellow Farrah Fawcett wigs, has stolen the limelight again. Hedwig and the Angry Inch, an explosive gender-bending cabaret, sashays into Philadelphia this month. Co-written by John Cameron Mitchell and Stephen Trask, and directed by Michael Gray, this eccentric rock-opera runs on the juice of the sleazy '70s glam movement. The pastiche of songs, flashbacks, fake eyelashes and multi-media animation hark back to the glory days of Ziggy's spacey cross-dressing and the New York Dolls' thrashing guitars. Seasoned performer David Colbert smears the line on gender as the outrageous Hedwig, a grouchy transsexual with dashed dreams. As a teenager in East Berlin, Hedwig meets a luscious G.I. who convinces him to get the old snip 'n' tuck before they return to America to live happily ever after in holy matrimony. Of course, Hedwig finds himself ditched in a Kansas trailer park, hubby having run off with another boy, and one very angry "inch" on his hands after the sex-change operation was botched. Still hopeful, Hedwig forms a pan-Slavic band (God -- The Band) and belts out the story of his life, performing in rinky-dink seafood restaurants before puzzled senior citizens. Consumed with finding his missing half, Hedwig stumbles upon rock prodigy Tommy Gnosis (also Colbert), to whom he plays mother, lover and mentor. But like most men in Hedwig's life, Tommy leaves, catapulting himself to stardom on songs co-written by Hedwig. The situation gets stickier than Hedwig's nine layers of mascara, but the show's off-kilter originality makes it worth the raunchy romp.

Hedwig and the Angry Inch, July 12-27, $20, the Painted Bride Art Center, 230 Vine St., 215-925-9914.