Winona | Ebony Rattle
Winona is hard to describe, and this is by design. The work is experimental, never lingering on one moment, conceit, scene, or form for too long before swiftly pivoting into another. After watching, I was left with the distinct impression that I had seen something truly Cult - I felt as if I should have had a Winona poster on my bedroom wall as a teenager.
Written by lead performer Ebony Rattle, Winona is a heady work, grappling with the complexities of life, sex, romance, and friendship as a disabled and neurodiverse individual. The work follows the relationship between Special K (played by Rattle), and Billie (played by Stella Robinson AKA Girl Whatever), as they navigate through their lives in a dynamic that flows between romantic, charming, friendly, and hateful at the drop of a hat. The chemistry between Special K and Billie is electric, with each party existing at either extreme of perceived emotional vulnerability, while never truly letting on what they’re thinking or feeling to the other. Shared cigarettes, discussions of what medication they’re currently taking, and manic depressive episodes define the relationship, and Rattle and Robinson’s rapport throughout the work keeps the duo both believable and elevated in a way that astounded me from a purely technical level. One moment that stuck with me was a movement section in which Rattle and Robinson draped one another in thin pink sheets and paper crowns, discussing how each party felt about sexual intimacy and eventually sharing a sheet together. Exploration of intimacy between friends is an experience that defined my queerness when I was first discovering who I was, and watching such a tender, truthful, and bizarre depiction of it onstage left me feeling seen. Before the work started, I found myself looking at the various props and costumes onstage, and wondering how on earth a work could incorporate paper masks, fringed crop tops, and pink chiffon while still being taken seriously - I haven’t been proven wrong so quickly in quite some time.
A particularly stellar element of Winona was its sound design and score - composed by musician Angelita Biscotti, rich synth sounds carry emotional tension throughout the piece, throbbing with intensity in a manner that often left me nauseous. Loud and abrasive without being overbearing, Biscotti’s ability to navigate between the spectrum of intensity is enviable. Her delivery of bold, brash sounds contrasted beautifully against more subtle, droning moments, and the overall construction of the soundscape of Winona gave the work a sense of polish and professionalism. I was reminded of the scores to works such as Twin Peaks and Welcome to Night Vale - both cult classics within queer communities, Winona felt right at home sitting amongst them.
Winona begins with a sampled excerpt from Tom Rubnitz’ Listen To This, as performed by David Wojnarowicz mere months before his death of AIDS in 1992. This framing device, and indeed the framework of the quote itself, defines the work, and acts as a Rosetta Stone for deeper understanding of Winona’s function not only as a piece of theatre, but as a statement. Rage at the way our health systems treat those who are disabled and neurodiverse, a rejection of the comfort society finds in abstracting death, and in turn a fascination with the ways in which depiction can abstractify experience (as in the relevant sample, discussing the feeling of the real when one is displayed on a screen). Winona is as complex as it is entertaining, and Rattle’s writing straddles this line deftly, treating the concepts not as binary but as two sides of the same coin.
Winona is special, and I have found myself unable to stop thinking about it since seeing it. It felt like a work that was Made For Me, and it's hard to tell where that personal investment steps in in terms of reviewing the show. What I will say is this: if you get the chance to see Winona, you should take it. It’s a rare gem of a work that sits on the shoulders of giants, and one that I truly believe will become one of those giants for the next generation of theatremakers.