
Martha Rial
LAUGHING
SPELL
Southern transplant's campy cabaret act has Pittsburghers
chuckling
by Diana Nelson Jones Post-Gazette Staff Writer
appeared in VOL. 72, NO. 312 6/8/99. Tuesday.
Sharon Spell launched her comedy adventure with a Mr. Microphone
and a boom box in a friend's South Side apartment.
Two years later, the 26-year-old former debutante from
Mississippi inspires collaborators to believe she has what it
takes to break out of the pack of unsung performers in the city.
Her piano accompanist, Mike Shanley, says that Spell - now
playing to handfuls of followers in vegetarian restaurants -
should become "a huge Pittsburgh celebrity."
We find her one Wednesday evening at the Zenith Tea Room on the
South Side, where, going by the name Mama, she is host of the
cabaret talk show "Mama's PTA Meeting."
She stands on vintage heels, wearing a flowing yellow dress and a
kitchen colander on her head. Dimpled, with a heart-shaped face
and curly auburn hair, she reads a letter from a UFO advocate
while a comically furtive guest star in a pink dress and wig
flicks his fingers rapidly in a fake, American Sign Language
accent.
The performers and most of their audience have quirked their
mouths against breaking up, but one man is laughing so hard and
so loud, he sounds like he is trying to stop a purse snatcher on
a crowded street.
"Thank you for laughing," Spell tells him after the
show, reaching for his hand.
"No problem," he says, chuckling his way out the door.
She watches him leave and says, "I don't even know him or
anything."
In Pittsburgh's entertainment scene, Mama's cabaret act plays in
the shadows of deep left field, along with limpid happy-hour
singers, coffee-shop guitarists, drag acts, parodies of drag acts
and limber women who clutch the air and rant to bizarre musical
noise.
Recently, cabaret has begun pulling in small followings at
several clubs in Shadyside and the South Side. Brian Glover,
owner of Sip Cafe, was an early advocate, having seen cabaret
acts in small bars in New York City.
"I thought, 'Wow, we could do something like that.' Sharon
used to work for me [as a waitress] and she would put on theme
nights. She and another employee would dress up and do music all
night. People were actually coming back the next week to see what
the theme was."
A self-described "independent chick," Spell left her
Southern comfort four years ago when she perceived few
opportunities in Hattiesburg, Miss., for her art degree. "I
wanted to try something different," she says.
How about something completely different?
With guest stars in drag, songs purposefully off-key, wilfuly
absurd gestures and silliness on the brink of plunging, Spell's
Mama shows fall somewhere between "Monty Python's Flying
Circus" and "Pee-wee's Playhouse."
She hangs her controlled but loosely packaged slapstick out like
clothes on a line, and you watch in awe, worried it will rain.
You never dream you're going to laugh until you're giggling
uncontrollably.
When Sip Cafe moved from Shady Avenue to Spahr Street in 1997,
Glover asked Spell to do a cabaret show. Spell was already
thinking about the idea. She performed for the first time that
October and began introducing guests. Some have gone on to have
their own shows.
"It may never grow by much," says Glover. "Any
time you pioneer something like this, it's a small scene. Word of
mouth."
Dean Novotny is one of Spell's collaborators, playing a drag
character called Sissy Fit. He is trained as a singer and spent
several years in New York City performing in drag theater: "I
did 'The Roman Spring of Mrs. Stone,' Joan Crawford-y stuff."
When he returned to Pittsburgh three years ago, Glover introduced
him to Spell. Novotny says Spell is "one of the hardest-working
girls in this town."
With the work ethic of a Roman road builder, Spell carts fliers
all over town, maintains a Web site (http://www.mamarama.net/) and a huge e-mail list to
promote her shows, creates her own costumes and sets, rehearses
and, these days, is editing tapes of her shows to be aired
sometime in July on Pittsburgh Community Television. (For updates,
Spell's email is mamarama@concentric.net)
Recently, she married Scotsman Rich Henderson, whom she met on
the Internet. She depends on her friends for emotional support -
"They tell me not to apologize" - and uses some of her
father's jokes. When she sings, she veers off-key on purpose
"because I know what sounds funny."
She made her first little stabs at comedy at The Funny Bone's
open stage on amateur nights, "but it wasn't going over. You
get five minutes and it takes me that long to get warmed up."
The night before her first full-fledged cabaret show, she stayed
up all night, planning and rehearsing. The day after the show,
she was so drained and anxious, "I cried all day on the
couch."
Mike Shanley, a regular collaborator, who also works at the
Carnegie Museum, says Spell's professionalism sets her apart:
"She is always on time, she's very gregarious, she doesn't
have a big ego, plus she's constantly plugging away, constantly
promoting herself."
Novotny admires her willingness to take risks and her confidence
in taking them: "She'll try all sorts of things. In one show,
she made her entrance coming up the street in a rickshaw."
One Saturday night at Sip Cafe, Spell stands demurely at the mike
in a polyester 60's dress, pouffy hair and spider eyelashes.
Throwing her voice like a kite in the general direction of the
tune of "Wild Boys" by Duran Duran, Spell slips to the
floor and begins slow-motion break-dancing.
A few moments later, all 10 people in the room appear to be
crying.
This is the shy girl who taught Vacation Bible School back home?
Spell says yeah, she's acting out as Mama.
The youngest of Joe and Ruth Spell's four children, she jokes
that she went quiet around age 8 "to work on my material"
and left Hattiesburg High School with a yearbook full of tributes
like, "Wish I'd gotten to know you better, you were really
funny."
"The first thing I ever did because I thought it would be
funny was carry a rifle in the High School Band," she says.
"It _was_ funny. We wore purple Lycra body suits with silver
sequins that go into a starburst on the torso, and white veils."
She kept the get-up and wore it this past New Year's Eve for her
First Night performance, "Mama Y3K: Mama at the End of the
Next Millennium."
She moved to Pittsburgh four years ago because her best friend
from college was living here. Among her new friends, she was the
only one with a car. Toting everyone else around she earned the
nickname Mama. Suddenly, she had a good comedy name, but thoughts
of a change in career had not yet begun to foment: It had been
hard enough telling her father she was going to be an artist.
Within a month, Spell had secured several jobs - a gig teaching
Saturday art classes at the Carnegie, a waitress job at Sip and
coordinating chidren's activities for the Three Rivers Arts
Festival.
In late summer of '95, a Sip customer told artist Bob Qualters
about Spell. Qualters needed a studio assistant to help make
banners for new light poles in Homestead. He remembers this
"very funny person" who was a joy to work with, and he
encouraged her to exhibit her work.
The Zenith Tea Room agreed to display one of Spell's paintings
for sale, and also hired her to wait tables. By the end of '97,
she decided not to accept more art jobs. They exacted too much
creative intensity for where they seemed to be pointing her -
toward a career in arts administration. Waiting tables freed up
her creative side to go after what she really wanted. While
teaching art, she says, "I was daydreaming about performing
comedy."
Now she's in the crosswinds of a career in comedy, and her father,
accepting as ever, is sending her jokes.
Shanley, a local rock-band veteran, says when Spell told him she
was preparing to do cabaret, "It seemed logical to play
piano behind her.
"Her humor is very campy and totally silly. That's what's so
cool about it. I like when people watch her and they think she's
screwing up. She could just get up and talk and have people ask
her questions and it would be funny."
Living "well below the poverty level" last year, Spell
has found her on- and off-stage wardrobe at thrift and vintage
stores, dresses for $5, beautiful gowns for $3: "These were
the type of clothes I had always wanted," she says. In a
full-skirted dress, cardigan and hand-held purse, her normal
clothes, Spell enters a room with the rounded precision of a '50s
housewife. "I'm even starting to look like Mama."
As her confidence and ambition begin to bud, she says she wants
Mama to be a full-time persona: "What I really want is to
live on Mama's salary," she says, with a wicked stage grin.
Then she turns back into Joe and Ruth's quiet daughter.
"And I want more people to laugh at me."