INTERVIEWSNEWSOFF-BROADWAYTHEATRE

INTERVIEW: Haruna Lee’s ‘Suicide Forest’ returns to NYC, nightmares intact

Photo: Haruna Lee and Eddy Toru Ohno star in Lee’s Suicide Forest. Photo courtesy of Richard Termine / Provided by Everyman Agency with permission.


When Haruna Lee’s Suicide Forest opened at the Bushwick Starr last year, many people took notice. Audience members flocked to the theater to see the playwright’s so-called nightmare play, which is bilingual and explores themes of Japanese consciousness, sex, suicide and identity. Critics loved the show, and now Ma-Yi Theater Company is remounting an encore at A.R.T./New York Theatres Mezzanine Theatre.

Suicide Forest, which runs through March 21, deals with a teenage girl (played by Lee) who grapples with her sexuality in a male-dominated world, according to press notes. Her story eventually clashes with the tale of a desperate salesman, and the two are never the same again.

“The play branches themes of intergenerational trauma, the psychic journey of the immigrant, the coming-of-age and ownership of one’s sexual identity in a hyper-sexualized and male-centered world,” according to a press release.

Lee, who goes by the pronouns they and them, is committed to arts activism and “emergent strategies through ethical and process-based collaborations.” Lee’s other plays are plural (love) and Memory Retrograde. They have had collaborations with a host of impressive artists, including Taylor Mac, Aya Ogawa (who directs Suicide Forest), Rachel Chavkin and David Lang.

Recently Hollywood Soapbox exchanged emails with Lee. Questions and answers have been slightly edited for style.

How would you describe Suicide Forest to someone looking to catch a performance?

The play is like a nesting doll nightmare — but a nesting doll nightmare from the Japanese consciousness. And inside this dark surrealist logic, you’ll meet these gross archetypical characters from Japan — like the School Girl and the Salaryman — who find themselves drowning in shame and lack of self-worth. When their paths collide, they reveal their darkest desires as the notorious Suicide Forest, and everything it stands for, looms over them.

Without giving too much away … Azusa, the school girl, finds a way to escape (physically and metaphorically) from this dark world, and then we are catapulted into the forest itself, which is stewarded by a bunch of goats and a demon entity named Mad Mad. The meeting of Azusa and this goat clan reveals yet another layer of the play, where Azusa (played by myself) and Mad Mad (played by my mother) break out and have a conversation in real time with the audience about identity, sexuality and our intergenerational memories, held by the Japanese heritage cast. 

Although the play is based in the 1990s, do you feel that it speaks to issues in 2020?

I really hope so! I’ve definitely been thinking about the relevancy of this piece and questioning what it means to do a remount after premiering it exactly a year ago, and I think this is totally valid to keep questioning the relevancy of our work as culture shifts occur over time.

In terms of the relevancy of ’90s Japan to now … well, my whole childhood adolescent is imprinted by that time and location, so the way I understand language, puberty, family — it’s all wrapped up in the memory of 1990s Japan for me. With that time period also comes these regressive gender dynamics and this desire towards self-erasure for the sake of a unified identity, and these very Japanese ideals (from the ’90s, but definitely still relevant in Japan now) are some of what definitively shaped me into the person I am in 2020 America. Perhaps the relevancy is a performance that occurs on my body — when you see me on stage, you can hopefully see and feel the change that’s occurred spanning the 1990s to the 2020s.

What has your experience been like working with Ma-Yi Theater Company?

As a maker who’s always self-produced my work or have had a heavy hand in producing my shows, this is the first time I’ve handed the producing reigns over completely! This meant that I didn’t know the overall budget of my show. I wasn’t aware of the allocation of moneys. I didn’t have to raise funds or apply to grants, and the press and marketing were pretty much taken care of for me.

And I felt … completely taken care of, and at the same time, I found myself pushing against the structure a little bit! Only because I’m so used to having much more control and information! But this is all to say, Ma-Yi is absolutely wonderful at what they do, which is producing off-Broadway scale shows.

And personally, I experienced some dissonance having to come to terms with my own expectations of not being a lead producer on this show. When I needed something or had an idea, I couldn’t just add a line in the budget, etc. It was a conversation with Ma-Yi first and foremost, and I feel really grateful to have flexed my muscle on how to have productive conversations, creating good will and rapport with a production company, and expressing my needs while also understanding the needs of the producing company as well, which I had to remember are the very real people who make up that company and have invited me to be a part of their story.

Was it always your intention to also star in the play?

Not at all! For the most part of development, which spanned about four years, I was only participating as the playwright. But then one day, Aya Ogawa (my director) was like, ‘Wait … why aren’t you playing this role,’ and this little inquiry opened up a huge rabbit hole, which kinda culminated in bringing my mother into the performance as well.

How does the piece address issues of Japanese and Asian-American identity?

Much like Adrienne Kennedy’s Funnyhouse of a Negro, I was really intent on creating a play-space that tackled the darkest edges of Japanese spirit and psyche. And this led me to explore Aokigahara, or Suicide Forest. I was immediately drawn to the self-perpetuated desire for self-erasure in this forest because I saw and felt that desire often in myself.

The ways in which I’ve experienced shame, conformity, masochistic tendencies — these are the dark edges of my Japanese identity, which I must take very special care of. I have to learn to love these parts of me. And I think the play is attempting to initiate that … by shedding light on these issues and holding them out in the open with a community of Japanese heritage performers.

We are asking to be seen and to be reflected, and I think there is an undeniable link between how my Japanese identity has informed my immigrant and Asian American identity after moving State-side.

For example, my desire for self-erasure and conformity manifested in the U.S. as the perpetuation of the model minority myth, constantly conforming to white supremacist culture for survival and finding ways to erase my own history and culture to fit in. For me, our (Asian Americans’) adjacency to whiteness makes a lot of sense when I think about these parts of my identity that have been conditioned towards self-erasure. And again, it takes great will, power and love to change those conditionings, which is really where I want to be focusing on into the future!

What were some of the audience reactions and questions during the play’s initial run by the Bushwick Starr?

One of the reactions I treasure most was from my dear friend Ato Blankson-Wood (who’s been killing it in Slave Play!), who told me after the show that he saw his own relationship with his Caribbean mother through my relationship with my Japanese mother, that the immigrant parent // immigrant child dynamic and experience (of having to constantly navigate and translate across native culture and language vs. American culture and language) transcends racial and ethnic bounds. It was beautiful to share that moment of understanding with him.

A question that I was perplexed, or confused by, was from critics or writers who were writing about this play asking me, ‘How will an American audience ever understand a play like this one?’ And I suppose the confusion came from actually taking this question seriously for a while! Until I was finally able to reclaim my play and say, ‘This is an American play because I am American.’ And my return question for those writers and critics is, ‘Who in your mind qualifies as ‘American’?’

By John Soltes / Publisher / John@HollywoodSoapbox.com

Suicide Forest, written by and starring Haruna Lee, continues through March 21 at A.R.T./New York Theatres Mezzanine Theatre in New York City. The play is produced by Ma-Yi Theater Company. Click here for more information and tickets.

John Soltes

John Soltes is an award-winning journalist. His writing has appeared in The New York Times, Earth Island Journal, The Hollywood Reporter, New Jersey Monthly and at Time.com, among other publications. E-mail him at john@hollywoodsoapbox.com

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