House of McQueen’s title character, Alexander McQueen, played by Luke Newton (left), has a business and personal relationship with Simon (Fady Demian, right).
Just like that other Alexander currently celebrated on the New York stage, fashion designer Alexander McQueen rose from humble origins to make his mark in an elite milieu. Darrah Cloud’s new bio-play House of McQueen features Bridgerton heartthrob Luke Newton in the title role, with Broadway musical star Emily Skinner as McQueen’s mother, Joyce, and Catherine LeFrere as his friend and patron Isabella Blow—the two most important women in McQueen’s life.
Joyce (Emily Skinner) is a concerned but doting mother to Lee Alexander McQueen (Matthew Eby, who alternates in the role with Cody Braverman).
After an opening scene in which McQueen, who took his own life at age 40 in 2010, toys with a gun, a belt, and other potential instruments of suicide, the story goes back to 8-year-old Alexander—then still known by his first name, Lee—drawing on the wall of his home in London’s East End. His mother admires the drawing, his older sister Janet (Jonina Thorsteinsdottir) furtively gives him paper dolls to play with, but he’s scolded by his gruff father (Denis Lambert) and bullied by his even nastier brother-in-law (Joe Joseph).
Act I charts McQueen’s journey from toting a garbage bag full of his creations around Milan and London to his appointment as head designer at Givenchy in his mid-20s. McQueen’s legacy would be defined, however, by the clothes he designed for his own label, along with the high-concept and often macabre runway shows that introduced them. Act II dramatizes McQueen’s professional ascent and his concurrent personal turmoil, as he deals with drug addiction, unsatisfying romantic relationships, trauma from childhood sexual abuse, and both his and Blow’s mental health struggles.
Catherine LeFrere, who portrays real-life tastemaker Isabella Blow, wears an outfit based on a real McQueen design.
Perhaps too much stage time is given to Blow’s institutionalization, pulling focus off McQueen, but the ultimately tragic Blow—a fashion editor and British society figure—emerges as the play’s most intriguing character. From her first appearance, gushing over McQueen’s first collection amid everybody else’s revulsion, LeFrere makes a feast of Blow’s sharp-tongued, attention-hogging antics. And she looks fabulous in the McQueen-inspired outfits by costume designer Kaye Voyce, who contributes plenty of everyday business and casual wear, too, for the 11-person cast’s wardrobe.
Newton always wears baggy jeans with a white tee or untucked button-down—the real McQueen’s preferred attire. The actor also sports a buzz cut, which heightens his resemblance to McQueen. It’s a committed, satisfying performance, though not one that involves an evolution in personality or demeanor over the course of McQueen’s life. Skinner, similarly, is effective yet seems to hit the same three notes (devotion, concern, pride) throughout.
With its runway-shaped stage and models (played by cast members) milling about in many scenes—plus an on-site exhibit of McQueen originals that theatergoers can peruse during intermission—the production immerses the audience in the world of high fashion. It could better represent McQueen’s outré aesthetic, though. Newton as McQueen says he is “inspired by viscera, slashings, streams of blood. . . . People perceive what they are most afraid of as ugliness. I find beauty in what we fear.” There’s quite a bit of talk onstage about McQueen models splattered with blood or wearing torn clothes but not enough accompanying visuals, either through video projections or actor portrayals.
Margaret Odette, as the model being dressed by McQueen (Newton), is one of seven actors in House of McQueen who play multiple roles. Photos by Thomas Hodges.
Furthermore, audience members need advance knowledge of the designer’s work to recognize Joan of Arc and the sea—both repeatedly referenced in the script—as favorite McQueen motifs. Or understand that the fever dream of a sequence in Act II where McQueen’s acquaintances from various times in his life ballroom dance in ever-changing pairs is a re-creation of McQueen’s own re-creation of the dance-marathon movie They Shoot Horses, Don’t They? for his 2004 runway show.
Hyperreal episodes like that, along with scenes with a lot of activity, are far more effective at conveying McQueen’s accomplishments and his troubled psyche than the intermittent news reports delivered as monologues by a journalist character. “Rumors are circulating that Givenchy is not pleased and that he will be gone by the end of a season described as disgusting, uncivilized and juvenile,” goes one such expository-sounding speech. Likewise, a museum curator’s posthumous address to McQueen too patly and unsubtly sums up his work and influence. Cloud’s storytelling also seems rote in three early scenes of McQueen seeking work, as they all follow the same pattern: He’s rejected on sight, rebuffed when he tries to talk his way in, then abruptly welcomed due to one remark or a glance at his designs.
While it illuminates McQueen’s chaotic personal life better than it does his iconoclastic work, this House stands as a sympathetic tribute to a singular talent—an overweight working-class lad with bad teeth who made it past the thin, posh, and impeccably groomed gatekeepers of haute couture to become one of the 21st century’s first superstar designers.
House of McQueen runs through Oct. 19 at the Mansion at Hudson Yards (508 W. 37th St.). Evening performances are 7 p.m. Tuesday through Saturday and 5 p.m. Sunday; matinees at 2 p.m. Saturday and 1 p.m. Sunday. For tickets and information, visit thehouseofmcqueen.com.
Playwright: Darrah Cloud
Director: Sam Helfrich
Sets: Jason Ardizzone-West
Costumes: Kaye Voyce
Lighting: Robert Wierzel
Sound: G Clausen
Projections: Brad Peterson
