serpentwithfeet Comes to Seattle With His Musical, 'Heart of Brick'

In his new work for the stage, the musician explores the power of Black queer love.

by Jas Keimig

Since the release of his critically acclaimed 2021 album, Deacon, multi-hyphenate electronic musician serpentwithfeet has been hard at work.

He's been in the studio, writing and recording an entirely new album, Grip, which he just announced will drop in February. And he's also been onstage, creating a theatrical production called Heart of Brick with a cohort of talented artists. The musical follows a fictionalized serpentwithfeet as he mentally hypes himself up to hit the club, fearing a run-in with his ex-lover. Instead, serpent meets Brick, the enigmatic club owner, and the two instantly fall in love. Through dance, text, and old and new songs off his upcoming record, serpentwithfeet's Heart of Brick tells the story of two gay Black men falling in love and the solace they find within the Black queer community.

The South Seattle Emerald had the chance to catch up with serpent ahead of his Nov. 1 performance at Moore Theatre to discuss writing about Black queer nightlife and "pushing the club to the edge of the universe."

This interview has been condensed for length and clarity.

What sparked your interest in writing for the stage?

I've always had a deep interest in theater. Growing up, I did some theater, so my passion has been there since I was a kid. I think in the music that I've created, I've always tried to push as much as I could sonically, narrative-wise. So actually doing something for the stage just seemed like the right next step.

How did you approach that process? What was it like trying to compose this piece?

Well, it was both, at the same time, writing the story and working on music. I knew from the beginning that I had this idea for the story while working on the album. I view them as companion pieces, for sure.

Much of the music in Heart of Brick is what's going to be on your next album. What's it like presenting music made for an album in a theatrical format?

It's a lot of fun, actually. It's given us a lot of permission to play with storytelling devices and play with form and create the rules for the show where we get to decide what works in our universe. Doing something this way really, really worked for us. We also had to labor at it and figure out what the rules are, what the movement vocabulary is. I'm singing, but there's also spoken text, there's dance, there's movement that isn't a strict eight count. It was like figuring out how to make sense of these different devices, but, again, I think it gave us permission to play, which I think is wonderful.

You're collaborating with director Wu Tsang, choreographer Raja Feather Kelly, and poet Donte Collins on this. How did you consider everyone's different approach to storytelling?

It was a lot of fun. The wonderful thing about working with collaborators like them is that they're super sensitive and also willing to workshop and explore. We never got on a call and said, "It has to be this." I came with some sketches and some references and some colors that I liked. I said, "OK, this is what I see so far — what do you think?" Then they tell me what they think, and they come with their ideas. We literally sat on the ground like we're in school and storyboarded. Like, "I think the ballet goes here," or "We need this soliloquy here." Nobody was beholden to anything, myself included, so it actually just helped me flow. And they're also just fun to work with.

This play is centered around Black queer nightlife. What was important to you about telling this story, and what did you want to explore within that?

It's a place that has changed me so much. I've been saying that it's raised me a second time. I think it's the culture that's there, and spaces that are created for Black queer people. I wanted to document the magic that I felt in these places. It had been on my heart for a while to do. It's not an autobiographical work, but my interest was how do I take down these ideas and push them to the edge of the universe? How do we push the club to the edge of the universe? How do we push all of these moments as much as we can?

Your last album, Deacon, was so much about being in love and being centered around Black queer love. With this new music, are you expanding on that idea of Black queer love or exploring different sonic textures?

Because I'm Black and gay, I'm always gonna be speaking to that. But sonically, this, for me, is an R&B album, and I'm always trying to play with multiple textures and colors. I did my best to have the bigger, more bombastic moments on the album and also have moments that felt supple and tender and romantic. Because it's not just about the club, it's about where closeness is celebrated. Sometimes closeness is celebrated in the club, but sometimes it's in intimate places with your partner behind closed doors, so I wanted to document all of that. I wouldn't even call it a club album. It is an album that has parts that are inspired by the club, but then parts that are inspired by the quieter moments at home with the person I care about.

What are you hoping audiences take away from this performance?

I'm hoping they will be feeling more imaginative and they leave the show feeling inspired to find and identify the magic in their own lives. There's mysticism and mythology everywhere if we are just able to locate it. So hopefully people leave being able to locate the magic in their own lives and will feel encouraged to find language around that if they haven't already.

📸 Featured Image: Singer and artist serpentwithfeet's new theatrical production, Heart of Brick, explores queer Black love through dance, song, and text. (Photo by Justin French, courtesy of Seattle Theatre Group)