Review: HERE AND THEIR at 12th Ave Arts

Every once in a while, a show comes along that feels like you are catching something before the rest of the world does. That is the experience with Here and Their, now performing at 12th Ave Arts. This original musical production epitomizes local Seattle theater at its finest. It is original, funny, tender, layered, and filled with heart. That it is happening in a small black box space makes it all the more impressive.

Here and Their is the seven-year passion project of Jasmine Joshua, with compositions and lyrics by Heather Ragusa, and interstitial music by YUELAN. The show tells the story of Sam (Chloe Payne), a Montana-based “bride” approaching their wedding and facing the mounting pressure of gender expectations. From the jump, you can see that Sam feels uncomfortable in the unabashed loud and high-femme energy at their bachelorette party. Their weddings served as a mirror for outdated gender roles, and became the catalyst for a much deeper journey of self-discovery. Will Sam’s fiancé understand? Will their mother? Their very girly and striaght-coded sister Meghan (played pitch-perfect by Meghan Hyunh)? The people of Butte? Do they even understand what it means to be nonbinary? Should they even get married? They seek the guidance of an aunt they didn’t know they had, stage name Vicky Vektor (Meg McLynn), who happens to be a queer woman and a rockstar from the 80s. In a parallel narrative, Vicky Vektor negotiates with her own demons of identity, with pressures of selling out in order to become socially relevant again. The show skillfully balances humor and vulnerability as Sam and Vicky navigate the complexities of authenticity and belonging. 

One of the more charming elements of the show is the trio of anthropomorphic internet muses (Juniper Johns, Marine Wingett, and Rylynn Davis), who guide Sam through the overwhelming swirl of questions, anxieties, and possibilities that come with coming out. Like many people seeking visibility that is not found in their hometown, Sam finds the language around how they self-identify online. It’s a classic theater technique that beautifully melds old school storytelling with more modern content. 

Chloe Payne embodies Sam in their performance. They felt so real, clearly uncomfortable and awkward but also so charming and familiar. Vocally, they are excellent, with strong pipes that serve the emotional core of the songs. It’s cool seeing the contrast of Payne’s powerful vocal performance with their more uncertain physicality, only to evolve slowly into someone more confident on their journey to self discovery and acceptance. Their chemistry with James Lee, who plays Sam’s fiancé David, is genuinely sweet. Sam seems like a partner that would be encouraging rather than disparaging when David made a pie in the shape of a DnD die. Sam also has an entire song dedicated to how much they love math. Ellen Dessler Smith is terrific as Sam’s mother, Sarah. The recurring moments where she stumbles over pronouns are both funny and painfully familiar. 

The other true standout of the production is Meg McLynn as Vicky Vektor. Perfect casting! McLynn brings both tough rocker chick energy and real emotional complexity to Vicky. She’s more than a washed-up musician; she’s a fully realized person grappling with how much of herself she is willing to compromise for the sake of relevancy. Alongside her is Selena Whitaker-Paquiet as Tommy, Vicky’s partner of 30 years (and co-owner of their bar The Pink Triangle). Tommy grounds Vicky with dry wit and reality checks. The dynamic between McLynn and Whitaker-Paquiet is rich with history and warmth, adding even more depth to their storyline when Vektor dabbles with selling her soul to the music industry devil. 

Another success of Here and Their lies in its music. Too often, original musicals fall into the trap of inserting songs where they are not needed, making the music feel like an afterthought. That is not the case here. Heather Ragusa's score is fully integrated into the storytelling. The songs are not just musical interludes but essential vehicles for the narrative and emotional arcs. Without the music, this story wouldn’t make any sense. That’s how it should be. This is a musical that could not exist in any other form, which is a testament to writers who truly understand the craft.

Elizabeth Ppsluns and Laura McFarlane’s choreography is yet another highlight, making excellent use of the limited space and keeping the energy high. The staging cleverly transitions between Sam’s inherited dive bar and LA gaybar, The Pink Triangle, that Vicky Vektor and Tommy co-own. With a larger budget and a bigger stage, one can easily imagine how much further the world-building could go. Even within its current constraints, the design is creative and effective. The only element that occasionally felt distracting was the lighting, which at times competed with the performances instead of enhancing them. In some of the more intimate songs, a simpler approach would have allowed the emotion to land even more strongly. But this is splitting hairs at this point. 

What stands out most about Here and Their is its balance of personal vulnerability and universal accessibility. This is not simply a coming-out story, but a broader exploration of identity, love, and family. While the story feels deeply honest, there is also a softness to it that gives the sense of a dream version of reality. It feels like the best case scenario version of a difficult conversation, which may reflect the story Joshua wishes they could have had (or maybe they did have!). Sometimes, theater gives us the chance to write the endings we hope for. And sometimes, audiences need to see that version too.

The show is also very funny. The humor never feels forced or mean-spirited. The cast delivers the comedic beats with sharp timing, especially the internet muses who are consistently hilarious. Even in its most vulnerable moments, the show manages to find levity, which helps the story feel buoyant without losing its emotional core.

Bang for your buck, Here and Their is hard to beat. I have seen far more expensive musicals that offer far less heart, originality, and craft. This is exactly what great local theater should be: bold, personal, inventive, and brimming with potential. I sincerely hope this show gets the larger platform it deserves in the future. Until then, support local, queer theater during pride month and go see this feel-good identity crisis musical!  

Grade: A

Here and Their performs at 12th Ave Arts through June 28th. For tickets and information, visit hereandtheirthemusical.com. 

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