Kristina Wong, Sweatshop Overlord
Kristina Wong
American Conservatory Theatre
With the hard rock and blues beats of J Roddy Watson and the Business blasting out, “I’ve been pulling threads, doing all kinds of evil,” a woman sits at her sewing machine and quickly whirls a piece of cloth through the machine’s needles, pulling out a mask – the kind we were all desperately trying to make and/or find in late March, early April 2020. Turns out, there were hundreds, no thousands, no tens of thousands of doctors and nurses, delivery people, firefighters, indigenous people, immigrants arriving at the border, and seemingly countless others searching for the one thing that might save their lives – a well-made, well-fitting mask.
Who was more able to help them out than a now-out-of-work (maybe forever) Asian American, performance artist named Kristina Wong? After all, she was used to making her own costumes and set designs on her little Hello Kitty sewing machine; she had a Facebook following of fans; and while she normally described herself as “self-obsessed,” she was suddenly finding that lo and behold deep inside she was feeling something new: “empathy.”
And with that discovery was born the beginnings of the incredibly inspiring story that is detailed with much hilarity, high jinks, and heart in the one-woman, autobiographical show, Kristina Wong, Sweatshop Overlord, now in its final leg of a national tour at American Conservatory Theatre in the performer’s hometown of San Francisco. Amidst a colorful, playground-like setting full of large, tomato-shaped pin cushions; over-sized thread spools, and stacked boxes ready to be mailed (all part of the joyful scenic designs of Junghyun Georgia Lee), Kristina Wong slaps on an outfit that is a cross between Jane Fonda workout, Rambo save-the-world, and yes, Little Kitty herself (Linda Cho, costume designer).
Moving about the Strand Theatre stage in leaps and bounds in between crouching and crawling across the floor, the highly athletic performance artist bursts into a recounting of her – and in many ways, all of our – near two years of COVID isolation. But unlike most of us, she did not just work jigsaw puzzles and watch Netflix series; she harnessed over 350 volunteer “Aunties” in 33 states to produce several hundred thousand, much-needed masks for those out on the frontlines and those in often remote communities hit hardest by the killing virus.
The beginnings of Wong’s “Auntie Sewing Squad” (soon known by all involved as “ASS”) came from other “unemployed, unessential” performers of the theatre world like her as well as from a circle of friends of her own mother, who Wong explains helped out “to give up the one thing she does well, worry.”
But as her Facebook posts were read and shared far and wide, not only did hundreds of requests for masks start coming in every day (none to which she said no), but also more and more “Aunties” of every sort – even those who could not yet sew. Wong’s month-by-month recounting of their exponentially growing network and work is told with much wit to our wide-eyed wonder of how masks were being delivered to places like a remote, almost non-reachable village in Alaska or to the border of Texas to be given to immigrants in prison-like camps.
With the help of Caite Hevner’s projections, we are not only introduced to many of the Aunties but also to what the performer warns us up front will be included in the ninety-minute show: “death, illness, poverty, mental health stressors, racism, trauma, the last U.S. president.”
What is particularly powerful and even jarring as we listen to and laugh at Kristina Wong’s unique, in-your-face recounting of the “ASS” accomplishments is how she reminds us of what else happened during the 504 days the Aunties sewed and shipped: George Floyd and BLM, anti-mask/vaccine protests, RBG sudden death, January 6 uprising, one-millionth COVID death in the U.S. Kristina Wong’s autobiography of her COVID experience quickly becomes a stirring, even emotional memory jogger for each of us in the audience. Events, feelings, and fears that had perhaps faded with time suddenly are as real again as this crazy clown-like performer on stage who we begin to understand is as near an angel in the flesh as anyone we have ever met.
And that is the power of live theatre, something we all had missed for at least a couple of years during the time now being remembered. Kristina Wong awakens in each of us the memories of a worldwide event recently passed but for many of us, seemingly so far in the past. Yet she reminds us what we already know: That world prior to March 2020 is no more. 1000 COVID deaths per week still occurring in the U.S, the renewed threat of more Trump, anti-Asian haters, deniers of all sorts, a country divided like never before – that is the legacy of COVID un a world where we now live. But Kristina Wong also teaches us through her self-confessions, her humor, her honesty, and mostly by her example – one person can make a huge difference, even in a world full of pestilence and lies.
While entertaining and enjoyable, Kristina Wong, Sweatshop Overlord is more than anything else a classroom of instruction what even the most nonessential among us can do to become essential to those around us in need.
Rating: 4.5 E
A Theatre Eddys Best Bet Production
Kristina Wong, Sweatshop Overlord continues in its final run of a national tour through May 5, 2024, at American Conservatory Theatre’s Strand Theatre, 1127 Market Street, San Francisco. Tickets are available online at https://www.act-sf.org , by phone at 415-749-2228, or by email at tickets@act-sf.org.
Photo Credits: Kevin Berne
