The Evolution of The Bushwick Starr
Ian McKellen has a remarkable way of marking the beginning of a theatrical journey. Back in 2007, at the newly inaugurated Times Center in Midtown Manhattan, he adhered to his personal tradition by kneeling down to kiss the pristine stage floor. Rising from this gesture, he recited a passage attributed to Shakespeare, underscoring the significance of the moment. The inception of a theater is often regarded as a miraculous event, a celebration that feels even more poignant when the crowd begins to dwindle. Yet, the real challenge lies ahead after the kiss: which voices will echo in this space? How thoughtfully and effectively will the venue be animated?
The Bushwick Starr, a vibrant hub for original and often avant-garde performances since 2001, can proudly celebrate achievements on both fronts: it has welcomed a charming new theater while launching it with an invigorating play.
After spending 23 years in a cramped, dimly lit, and makeshift location on the second floor of a former doll factory — a space that was far from accommodating for those with mobility issues or a sense of claustrophobia — the theater has relocated three stops deeper into Brooklyn via the L train, finding a new home in a repurposed dairy on Eldert Street. While the new venue may not be opulent, it radiates brightness and warmth, successfully retaining the spirit of unconventionality. This evolution honors the company’s storied past and the building’s industrial heritage.
Opening its doors with A Woman Among Women, a play by Julia May Jonas, in collaboration with New Georges, this new space showcases a unique narrative that feels refreshing and relevant. The production, which premiered there on Friday, is inspired broadly by an earlier classic, yet it carves its own distinctive path rather than drawing overt comparisons.
The play it loosely responds to is Arthur Miller’s iconic All My Sons. In this seminal 1947 drama, a prominent figure in the community — described by Miller as “a man among men” — knowingly sells faulty airplane parts to the Air Force, leading to the tragic deaths of 21 pilots. The ensuing fallout as blame is attributed elsewhere drives the narrative forward, while the central theme grapples with the tension between individual and societal accountability.
