B*tchcraft

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From the chrysalis that was innocent Karen of suburban Michigan emerged the gorgeous butterfly Bitch, a self-realized goddess of brains, energy and purpose.  This is the thrust of B*tchcraft at the Wild Project in the East Village.

As that child Karen, she was mistreated by her English-born parents.  Her father wanted her to pour his beer while constantly berating her, particularly when she reached puberty and had no idea how to portray herself.

Her mother, who ran a tap dance school, put Karen at the back of the studio.  Karen’s only real friend was a stuffed beaver who comes alive in her imagination as Beavy (portrayed Francesco, as the perfectly content buddy).  Filling notebooks with zingy childish stories, she finds her own escape.

Projections of these colorful notebooks fill the walls of the stage.  These and the other incredibly illustrative slides were designed by Brian Pacelli. They added greatly to Bitch’s narrative, particularly at the end when the walls were filled with scores of faces of great women champions.

Despite paternal opposition, Karen wanted to go to a performing arts school.  She had demonstrated musical instincts playing a violin—soon an electric version—and wanted to be an actor.

She chose DePaul University (formerly the Goodman School of Drama).  To fill out her schedule she registered for a women’s history class and there met the person who would change her life forever:  Animal.

That course opened Karen’s eyes, eventually leading to her changing her name to Bitch and entering the rich world of lesbian love, women’s rights, confronting a misogynistic culture that did not honor her or her new-found community.

B*tchcraft then takes the audience on an audacious journey, not only across America, but through a misogynistic mindset against which Bitch and Animal battled relentlessly, in their small way, as they presented concerts of Bitch’s meaty songs, laying out suffering and triumphs.

Then she found the holiest of the Holy Grails:  The Michigan Womyn’s Music Festival (1976-2015).  Bitch was in heaven communing with a vast spectrum of women who formed a protective—albeit temporary—self-reliant community.  There Bitch’s songs reached an audience that fully appreciated her while she was able to wallow in total acceptance for once in her life.

It was not to last.  Technology caught up Bitch in a way she could never have figured back in her touring days when a can of coins for phone calls rested on the dashboard.  Then came cell phones and then the internet.

Trans women protested Bitch’s participation in the Womyn’s Festival because, allegedly, they did not include trans women and began savage online campaign that destroyed Bitch’s life, leaving her few outlets for her performing.

How she survived and even triumphed became B*tchcraft.

Bitch turns herself inside out in ways sometimes difficult to bear, particularly with her frank, anatomical language, but she communicates her joy and anguish so honestly and unflinchingly that it is all somehow totally fine.

B*tchcraft is a collaboration between Bitch and her director Margie Zohn.  Between them they have crafted a powerful show that is both personal and universal in its emotional heft.  The language and imagery are strong, maybe not for everyone, but they resonate with Bitch’s totality.

The clever staging includes a magic structure that morphs from Karen’s bed to Bitch and Animal’s stage and beyond.  To strengthen the bitch/witch connection, a magic broom floats about and a strange figure in a hooded robe called the Crone (Cary Curran, eloquent, though silent) wafts about.

The tatterdemalion costumes by Andrea Lauer are perfect.

The sound design by Sean Hagerty adds dimension to the play both in projecting Bitch’s music and also the voiceover narrative of unseen characters.

Perhaps I am not the best person to write about and explicate B*tchcraft, a work about a world with which I am almost totally unfamiliar, but, by any standards, this is a powerful, emotionally driven tale of a human being discovering and keeping true to herself.

B*tchcraft (through March 1, 2025)

The Wild Project, 195 East 3^rd Street, in Manhattan

For tickets, visit http://www.thewildproject.org

Running time: 90 minutes without an intermission