Review: Justin Vivian Bond Radiates Power at Joe's Pub

“The lunatics have taken over the asylum,” Justin Vivian Bond declares in their opening number at Joe’s Pub, and there’s something deliciously subversive about how they’ve transformed this declaration of despair into a rallying cry. At 61, fresh off receiving a MacArthur “Genius” Grant, Bond administers cultural medicine, served with a knowing wink.

The show, titled Oh Well and inspired by Radclyffe Hall’s classic lesbian novel The Well of Loneliness, feels like anything but loneliness. The packed house at Joe’s Pub mirrors the warmth radiating from the stage, where Bond weaves together songs from queer, trans, and lesbian artists into a tapestry of resistance and joy. The title’s apparent nonchalance serves as an ironic counterpoint to the deep care evident in every carefully chosen note and shared memory.

The evening unfolds in layers of meaning, much like Bond’s own journey. Having chosen their “Vivian birthday” (November 9) to begin hormone therapy a decade ago, they selected Scorpio as their astrological signature because the “most iconic Scorpio women are the most glamorous and the most dangerous.” It’s this blend of vulnerability and strength that makes their performance so compelling. Thematically, the show explores several interconnected threads:

Power of Defiant Joy

In “The Lunatics (Have Taken Over the Asylum),” Bond’s commanding presence fills the entire room, as they march through the audience, their voice rich with dramatic defiance. They follow this with Joan Armatrading’s “All the Way from America,” a country-tinged tale of promised love and painful waiting: it’s clear that even disappointment can be transformed into art.

Intergenerational Wisdom

As Bond shares stories between songs — like the masterclass in shoplifting they learned from “How to Apprehend a Shoplifter” — they embody the role of queer elder with both gravity and wit. Their rendition of “At Seventeen” takes on new depths sung from the perspective of 61, transforming Janis Ian’s teenage angst into a meditation on survival and growth.

Politics of Existence

The show’s political edge is sharp in “The Joke” by Brandi Carlile, where audience members see themselves in the lyrics: “You’re looking tired, but you don’t look scared.” Bond, who began performing during the AIDS crisis as half of the legendary duo Kiki and Herb, knows something about maintaining dignity and fabulousness in the face of darkness.

Vulnerability as Strength

When Bond performs “Broken Man” by St. Vincent, once more prowling through the audience with controlled aggression, they transform brokenness into a kind of superpower. “Who the h*ll do you think I am?” becomes less a challenge than an invitation to witness authenticity in all its complicated glory. In “The Weakness in Me,” they tackle the messy, unpretty parts of love with disarming honesty. Their voice, capable of both earth-shaking power and tender intimacy, turns the song into a confession that feels both personal and universal.

The alchemy of the evening owes much to Bond’s extraordinary band. Matt Ray’s piano work thunders and whispers in perfect synchronicity with Bond’s emotional dynamics, particularly evident during “Constant Craving” where his keys create a passionate undertow to Bond’s vocals. Nath Ann Carrera, who Bond met when the former was just 24 (now 40 and “even better with age,” as Bond fondly noted), brings both virtuosic guitar work and warm harmonies. Bernice Brooks on drums and Mike Jackson on bass provide the heartbeat of each number, while Claudia Chopek’s violin soars above it all, adding layers of emotional complexity to already rich arrangements. The backup vocals, particularly in “Kid Fears,” create a fascinating tension — two steady voices grounding Bond’s more emotionally raw delivery, as if representing the different voices we all carry within ourselves.

The evening concludes with Doris Day’s “Secret Love,” transformed from a closeted whisper into a reminder of how far we’ve come — and how far we have to go. In times when trans rights are under attack and bodily autonomy has become a battleground, Bond stands as a beacon of resilient joy. Their recent MacArthur Grant feels less like a career capstone than an amplification of their already powerful voice. When they sing about being “tired but not afraid,” it’s clear they’re not just surviving — they‘re showing us how to thrive.

Oh well? More like “Oh, h*ll yes.”

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Learn more about Justin Vivian Bond at www.justinvivianbond.com

Find more upcoming shows at Joe's Pub https://publictheater.org/calendar/.

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