Andrew Pearson’s “Abbale” Shows Us How to Be Our Own Daddy

Andrew Pearson’s “Abbale” Shows Us How to Be Our Own Daddy

Andrew Pearson’s autobiographical Abbale seamlessly combines performance elements and multimedia to tell a heart wrenching story of self discovery and personal growth.

Almost exactly 2 years ago, right before the first Covid-19 pandemic shut downs went into place, I was invited to preview an early draft of Andrew Pearson’s solo show Abbale. It was an intimate showing with an audience of about 20 people which included Andrew reading much of the show from a script in hand and a feedback session directly after the preview. (You can read my interview with Andrew and my initial thoughts here.) Last month, I had the pleasure of seeing a public showing of the evolved work at Stomping Ground LA

Abbale, in its current form, is a solo show written and performed by Andrew Pearson and directed by Lisa Owaki Bierman. The story is told through oral narrative, movement, prop work, video, and recorded sound and chronicles Andrew’s relationship with his father, his partner, Asaf – Ben Jehoshua, and Asaf’s relationship with his own father as well as the cultural idea of the “daddy” in gay relationships. 

It’s important to note that Asaf is an Israeli immigrant, is significantly older than Andrew, and that abbale is the Hebrew word for father.

House Lights Dim

Abbale ran for two nights and I attended the second night. As we entered the theatre, a portable monitor sat in the middle of the stage displaying the program and a QR code audience members could scan for more information. I scanned it and found a seat in the back row and scrolled through the additional program notes. 

After the doors to Stomping Ground L.A. closed and house lights dimmed, the show began with the clip clopping of wooden-soled shoes entering the stage from behind the audience. Soon, Andrew appeared in an oversized coat and shoes, rolled the monitor off to stage right and fiddled with the cords for a bit. I’m still unsure whether this was nod to the fatherly stereotype of dads’ propensity to mess with T.V. cords and display settings (though I doubt it.)

Then, Andrew started talking, but his mic didn’t work so he let us know that he was going to trouble shoot the technical issue. And, while I’m sure he was frustrated with this beginning, it also served to establish the conversational nature of the work akin to standup comedy or a chat over drinks with a friend. 

Andrew Pearson in blue, pin-striped short suit, clasps hands and smiles with hair slicked back
Andrew Pearson in Abbale Photo by Brian Hashimoto

Abbale isn’t a show for passive spectators. Andrew invites us into his thought process, the evolution of the piece overtime, and its creative development as an intrinsic part of the performance. 

He doesn’t break the 4th wall; there was never a wall between us in the audience and Andrew as the performer to begin with.

Showtime

When the show truly began, Andrew launched into a series of stories that bounced between decades, relationships, the United States, and Israel, all punctuated by movement, prop work and videos on the portable monitor. 

Interwoven Timelines

I was most struck by Andrew’s interweaving of stories through movement. He told a story of going to a carnival with his dad as a kid and getting lost. Throughout this story, he layered in another memory of going to a club with Asaf and getting lost. The memory of the carnival shifted in and out of the club memory, creating a palpable continuity between the two. While the childhood story of getting lost at the carnival was characterized by fear and the adult story of the club was characterized by empowerment and autonomy, both resulted in his “daddy” finding him, affirming him, and creating a safe emotional space with them. 

As he moved between child and adult and between daddies, movement motifs further drew together their parallels. Holding onto his father’s sleeve through the carnival and holding Asaf’s shoulder as they moved through the club brought to life how these relationships inform how Andrew navigates the world. Meanwhile, carnival music and club music helped differentiate the two timelines as they unfolded.

Symbology in Movement and Prop Work

Abbale is full of symbols. The most obvious being the use of shoes and a coat too large for Andrew which took on many meanings throughout the show. The shoes start off as a literal representation of the cliché “big shoes to fill.” This previewed Andrew’s self-perception of filling the child role in every relationship he would render and foreshadowed his journey to become his own daddy. 

Andrew Pearson steps on shoe dancing on stage in pink light
Photo of Andrew in Abbale by Brian Hashimoto

The coat is draped over a chair to serve as a stand-in for various father figures, most often Asaf’s father. This allowed Andrew to pantomime as Asaf taking care of his father when he was sick. Near the end of the show, Andrew tells a story about Asaf and his father going on a trip together – it would be their last trip together. In the story, it’s cold, so Asaf’s father buys him a coat that’s a little too big on him. Andrew reveals that the coat he’d used this whole time to create stand-in father figures is the actual coat from the trip which Asaf let him borrow for the show. 

Andrew Pearson in oversized trench coat in pink light on stage
Photo of Andrew in Abbale by Brian Hashimoto

Andrew sprinkled in many loaded, symbolic movements to further draw parallels between childhood and adult stories and timelines. The most memorable was when Andrew turned the innocent motion of thumb sucking into the much less innocent motion of dick sucking. Hilarious and extremely uncomfortable as it was, it further solidified Andrew as the child role in his various daddy and son relationships. 

A video of a collage was shown a few times. The video depicted Andrew taking out pictures of himself, his father, Asaf, and Asaf’s father cutting them up and mixing and matching the images. He arranged the pictures in various pairings to show how all these relationships had interchangeable characteristics and informed one another. 

Then and Now

Videos of Asaf playing piano in their living room with Andrew dancing played around the stories and movement, displaying their shared venture in birthing art together on a daily basis. Beautiful displays of love, affection and co-creation. These videos give the audience, an intimate window into their partnership. 

When I saw Abbale in 2020, I was moved by the detailed stories of Ben’s relationship with his father, Andrew’s clear love for Ben, and the thoughtfulness with which he deconstructed and analyzed their relationship. 

This viewing, the detailed stories still struck me, but there was a distance in tone that I couldn’t put my finger on. Until Andrew revealed a twist…

He and Asaf broke up.

As someone who had sat next to Asaf in my first viewing of Abbale and saw the tender care between them first hand, I was shocked. 

Andrew cited their reason for breaking up. Asaf wants children, and soon. Meanwhile, Andrew’s children are his art projects, and he’s perfectly happy fostering those projects. Over the course of the show, the audience got to know this beautiful couple intimately. Especially for those of us at the first viewing when the two were still together in partnership. It was an emotional revelation to learn of their breakup, as sensible as the reason for parting may be. 

Becoming Daddy

Andrew stands in shadow with arms open on stage
Photo of Andrew in Abbale by Brian Hashimoto

Andrew describes numerous reasons he is not a daddy throughout the show. He cites requiring validation, providing fun and creativity in a relationship, being younger in his relationship with Asaf, and playfully describes himself as essentially self-centered. 

Daddies aren’t self-centered. Daddies take care of everyone else around them.  

Believing that creating art with Andrew could satisfy Asaf’s desire for children is one of the ways Andrew identifies himself as self-centered. Taking his own father for granted is another instance he cited. He also pointed out that with Abbale, he is using Asaf’s story and the story of his relationship with his father for his own benefit of making this very work. 

At the end of the show, Andrew tells the story of Asaf’s father’s passing. It’s a gut wrenching story after experiencing how loving and caring Asaf and his father’s relationship was. He sets up a memorial for Asaf’s father in the middle of the stage. A picture of Asaf and his father are on the monitor with the coat hanging off one corner and candles lit on top. Once the memorial is set, Andrew leaves the stage and soon after the house lights come up. 

This memorial was not only a show of love and respect from Andrew to Asaf and his father, but also an opportunity for us, as the audience, to witness Andrew finally becoming a daddy on his own terms. Even if he had to lose this beautiful relationship to learn what it truly means to not center himself in others’ stories, desires, and lives. 

Meanwhile, the memorial also represented Andrew’s grieving of his past, non-daddy self and the loss of his relationship with Asaf.

I look forward to seeing what work Daddy Andrew will produce in the future…

Follow Andrew

Make sure you follow Andrew @bodiesinplay everywhere (Instagram linked) and on his website bodiesinplay.com. (Also recommend signing up to his email list for lots of fun, additional events and updates!)