Go to almost any theater in town and you’re likely to see Nina Domingue on stage. One of the hottest and hardest-working performing talents in the city, she recently received a Cleveland Theater Collective Award for her subtle, varied performances in Sincerity Forever, Uncle Tom’s Cabin, and Nickel and Dimed. She has already had a busy year – with a galvanizing turn as “The Lady in Red” in Ntozake Shange’s for colored girls… at Karamu, then a lead in the Cleveland Contemporary Dance Theatre’s The Night Before Christmas. Last month in Cleveland Public Theatre’s Big [Box] series, she opened her solo show, Mo Pas Connin, to rapturous reviews. This month she burns up CPT’s mainstage as the controversial title character of Venus, Suzan-Lori Parks’ play about the “Venus Hottentot,” a South African woman with prominent buttocks who was shown off as an exotic carnival freak. A New Orleans native, Domingue has made her home in Cleveland since 1999. She talked with Cool Cleveland correspondent Linda Eisenstein about two of her big loves – theater and education.

Cool Cleveland: How did you get to Cleveland?
Nina Domingue: Mr. Gary Hyatt, my theater teacher at Dillard, knew Mike Malone who knew Bill Hoffman at the Play House. I was just out of school, and The Ohio Company – which is now defunct -- had one slot for an internship. It was a great gig, in the '99-00 season. It didn’t pay us much, but they put us up and paid our bills. What’s funny is I had no idea of what the Cleveland Play House was. Because I was in an HBCU – a Historically Black College or University -- I knew about Karamu, but not the Play House. I drove up to the Play House and said “It’s a castle!”

Our work was all during the day: we did 45-60 performances of all the pieces in the Ohio Company season. I was in The Tempest, which Scott Kanoff directed: I played Miranda & Gonzalo. I did Servant of Two Masters with Larry Nehring, a 45 minute version that Eric Coble adapted. I did a version of Alice in Wonderland with Eric Schmiedl, and The Emperor’s Nightengale with Sarah May. We’d do 2 performances, take a lunch break, and go into rehearsal for the next show. At night I got to go to Karamu and do The Shadowbox.

You were Insane Girl!
That was Dillard’s fault. I learned to keep busy there. Dillard was the first of the Historically Black Colleges & Universities to have a theater department. Bea Richards went to Dillard, and a bunch of well-known black stage actors. The Drama Dept. had died down just after we got there. A bunch of us sat in the Vice President’s office every day in order to keep the theater major. Finally, they got sick of seeing us there! They brought in Dr. Alexander Marshall – a well known Black Theater scholar, and Gary Hyatt, who is a marketing genius. Dillard was fantastic. We performed at the American College Theater Festival, the Tennessee Williams Festival, Dramarama Festival, Black Theater Festival. And it wasn’t a conservatory program -- we had to keep a 3.0 to perform. Anybody on the faculty could stop us in the hallway and say “Give us a classical comedic piece right now”. We had to have 7 audition pieces prepared and ready to go. That’s why I always teach. Because kids keep you accountable on the stuff you expect of them.

It sounds like it had a big influence on you.
Absolutely. At Dillard, we had to know the black dramatic canon. We didn’t get to do Shakespeare until senior year. They said, “you need to know your own literature before you go to graduate school, because you won’t get it there.” It’s true. That was the situation I found myself in grad school. There are never more than 1-2 “ethnic minorities” out of a class of 8-12. What that means is that you’re either going to be cast nontraditionally or they’re going to be bringing in guest artists. I didn’t get a lot of classical stuff before grad school. I spent a summer at Tulane Shakespeare Festival, which is kind of like Shakespeare boot camp. But now all that’s to my advantage – because it’s a strength I have now – I can do both classical theater and the classic black roles.

How do you feel about nontraditional casting?
It’s fine for classics, but in other cases, the specificity is important. When it’s specific that it’s a black family in the south, that’s what it should be. Just like I think if it’s a white family in New England in the 30’s, that’s what it should be. I don’t want to see an all black family playing Long Day’s Journey Into Night – because an upper class black family in the 30’s wouldn’t act that way. We reach universality through the particulars. I don’t want see a cast of black people playing a Latin family. I want to see Latin actors! It’s not about talent – but I don’t want to be cast as a Latin character over Jasmin Corona. There are several of us who keep getting cast as the “ethnic other” – Jasmin, David Loy, & I – we look like we can be many things.

You’ve done a lot of theater as an actor/teacher.
Yes -- Last year I was an actor/teacher for Great Lakes Theater Festival, touring the schools. Before that I worked at Karamu in the Theater Outreach Performance Series (TOPS). I did an outreach tour for Great Lakes – Young Gifted & Black – that’s how I met Carolyn Jackson-Smith, Margaret Lynch, Todd Krispinsky –Hassan Rodgers [her father-in-law, director of her solo show] – and my husband.

Now I’m teaching at the Cleveland School of the Arts. I’m filling in for Diane Mull, who’s on maternity leave. I teach two complete units – Introduction to Theater, a performance-based class, and the 8th grade ensemble performance class. I just started last week. I interviewed in November, came in and did a workshop in December – then I observed last week and helped grade their midterm performances. It’s a good thing it’s only two classes. I have a two hour gap between them, so I can recoup.

Let’s talk about your solo show – Mo Pas Connin. Was Big [Box] the first time you performed it?
No, but it’s a work-in-progress. It was my thesis project in grad school – West Virginia University -- which was to be our definitive work up to then. “Sha’Holinae”, the teenager who hustles Girl Scout cookies to the audience, was a character I developed in an improv troupe. Several people told me I needed to write a solo show, that nobody had written a show with Afro-Creole women from Louisiana. I knew I had things I wanted to talk about.

How autobiographical is it?
A lot. That story that Evangeline tells, about her cousin that was killed by skinheads – that happened to Jonathan’s cousin, who was supposed to be in our wedding. Christine [the pregnant character, whose mother was a suicide from post-partum depression] is me, taken to the extreme. The incident about the child talking back to her teacher about Christopher Columbus? That actually happened to me. That character, Jasmine, came to me on a tape recorder in 10 minutes. Kids always come easily for me. Her mother, Mona Lisa, is my Claire Huxtable character. There were three women like that in my department, whose shoulder you could always cry on -- these fierce and protective women. They have to be given their moment.

Tanisha Marie – the Catholic one – is based on my sister. She’s a dancer in New York now. Renee [the motormouth ex-crackhead] was really a woman I saw on the bus. I thought, “she’s got a great, interesting spirit.” What captivated me about her is she was so hilarious and full of life but there was a sadness that went so deep in her eyes. I just sat there and wrote what I heard her say – I had 6 pages of notes of what she said on the bus.

And did you really work at the hot sauce factory?
Yes. It was horrible -- the closest thing to slavery I will ever experience. You’re working in this factory, where it’s about 100 degrees -- with pepper! There are the temps, and the people who have been there for 20 years – and they’re both making $7 an hour. Then you had the people recovering from addiction, or just out of prison. Then there was the foreman, making $25-30/hour. It felt like an out of body experience. I would sit back and watch it all. Everybody wanted to talk to me. They kept saying, “You a good worker, we can get you all permanent, you know.” And I’m thinking, “You cannot get me permanent here for nothing.” And yes, there were those supervisors hitting on the girls, and girls going into the bathroom to do them so they could get off a couple of hours early. Ugh - nasty! It was a really big grounding experience for me – experiencing such a culture of depression.

What have you learned from putting it up in Big Box? Now I’m a better judge about how it actually landed. The first three times were all in West Virginia. Then I did it in New Orleans last September, at Dillard. People laughed at very different things there, they really recognized the characters.

And now you’re on to Venus. This is your first show by Suzan-Lori Parks? That’s one big ass part.
(laughs) The ass that changed the world. My prosthetic ass has got to be my most favorite costume piece of all time. “Venus” is such a big play. It’s like the Moulin Rouge without the glitter. The thing that I like about it most is that Venus talks the least of anyone in the play. Parks is an amazing writer. She honors necessity with her protagonists – they only speak when they have to. I’m learning a lot about writing by doing this play. Jyana [Gregory, the director] is one of the artists that I respect so much. I watch her in rehearsal in awe. She is very much like Suzan-Lori Parks in the way that she directs. You have a lot of freedom and lot of responsibility. It’s also great that I get to work with Holly [Holsinger]. She is one of the most giving actors I’ve ever worked with. And the chorus is doing such amazing things, they should call this play “The Chorus”. It’s a very safe and comfortable place to work, which is what I always feel at CPT. I would have never be able to do an Uncle Tom’s Cabin or a Venus in New Orleans. CPT always pushes me to grow and stretch.

I was just realizing how many of your recent shows have been by women playwrights – Shange, Parks, your own show, Margaret Lynch, Harriet Beecher Stowe, Barbara Ehrenreich and Joan Holden. I can’t think of another actor in town who can say that.
That’s funny. Subconsciously that’s one of my goals. Someday I’d love to do an August Wilson play but his women are hard, because they’re not completely drawn. I’d also love to do Adrienne Kennedy’s Funnyhouse of a Negro. I was always the weird one in my family. People always think Suzan-Lori Parks and Adrienne Kennedy are “abstract”. No, they’re not, they’re so clear! Their characters have very clear wants.

Are there any other roles you’ve been longing to do?
I have to do Medea before I die. Lady M. [Lady Macbeth]. I would like very much to do The Colored Museum. I would eventually like to play all the women in Pearl Cleage’s Flying West.

Who are your influences as a writer?
Alice Walker. Toni Morrison. Pearl Cleage. Toi Derricotte. Octavia Butler -- I reread her books every year. The Parables series! They’re awesome. The form that she takes – science fiction – allows her to deal with race and gender and religion and politics seamlessly.

What do you think the theater scene in Cleveland needs?
The willingness of the artists who are here to continue to learn. What I’ve heard from folks is that many Cleveland actors have a feeling of entitlement, but don’t want to keep learning. They need to learn and grow. There’s a wonderful man, Victor D’Altorio, who is teaching Meisner classes. It’s one of the best classes I’ve ever taken. You can never stop learning. Theater is a living art -- when you stop learning, you die. The thing about theater I most love is it’s one of the few places that can have master and apprentice on stage together.

What do you think is best about the scene here?
What really works about Cleveland is that a lot of people are doing new stuff. I am so fortunate to be a black actress in Cleveland at this time. Other artists do appreciate and reward this work. Cleveland has been incredibly generous to me. I am never without work.

How about Cleveland in general? The politics…
The schools! The schools have got to change. They have got to change! Doing the actor/teacher program, going to elementary and middle schools day after day, let me see a little window into what’s going on. There are kids sitting in class in hats and gloves and scarves because the building’s so cold. First period is 8, last period is 1:30 pm, and then they have lunch? How do you expect a 12 year old to function for that period without food?? Too many teachers who look like they hate teaching, or who are serving time in the inner city just long enough to pay off their school loans, so they can move to a suburban school. You cannot have a person who is there in charge of the shaping of their minds, and don’t care about them, or you’ll end up with a mess. In my opinion the education system needs major sweeping reform. The work force needs to be able to be creative. Nowadays 60% of people graduating don’t go into their field. So we have to teach people to think. In a lot of home schooling programs physics is introduced in 2nd grade. Don’t wait ‘til high school! You need to have practical applications. People are amazed that my daughter is 4 and she can read. Well, why shouldn’t she?

How about arts in the schools?
Obviously I think it’s important, for many reasons. But here’s one: It’s important to see a representation of yourself. It’s somebody trying to tell your story. That’s why those gospel shows are always packed. Sure, they’re soap operas, but if the only thing you’ve seen is a soap opera – and those actors can SING! – at least they seem to be a situation that has to do with you. People say, “I don’t see theater because I think I won’t understand it.” Well, most people don’t play basketball, but you understand it because you watch it! There’s not enough exposure to theater. The first live play I ever saw, I was in 10th grade.

How do you keep it together as an artist in Cleveland?
I’ve always taught – at Karamu – at the Play House Curtain Pullers – for Brick City at CPT. I always had very good teachers, and education is a legacy. Several of my aunts are teachers as well. I made the decision that I’m never getting an office job. My father was a writer and stopped writing when the kids were born. Later in life we got him the book “The Artist’s Way”, and he started writing again, getting up early in the morning to write. He looked like he’d come alive again. One day I saw him with this sad expression, and I asked him what was wrong. He said: “I just wish I didn’t have to go to work.” He just looked so pained.

I’ve also got an extremely supportive husband who was willing to be Mr. Mom. We got married when I was in grad school. He stayed home with the baby so I could finish grad school. He’s my best friend and biggest fan.

What are your favorite places here?
That little coffee shop on Bridge Ave. – Café Noir [now Metro Joe’s]. The Lava Lounge. I love this soul food joint on Harvard and 131st called Speedy’s. My garden – we have a house now in Slavic Village, off E. 55th and Broadway. Joan Southgate’s house. What an amazing woman she is! She has granted me an honor and privilege to write a one-woman show about her life. When she was planning her walk through Ohio, she was going to ask to stay with people she met along the way. Her family was all upset with her about that. I remember what she said: “It never occurred to me to take fear along.”

Venus runs thru 2/26 at Cleveland Public Theatre http://www.cptonline.org
Interview and image from Cool Cleveland theater correspondent Linda Eisenstein Linda@coolcleveland.com

 (:divend:)