For the past year, I’ve been working on a project called The Pansy Hour. It’s an original, devised immersive work about queer joy, community, and resilience inspired by real queer history. We’ve assembled an amazingly talented cast and crew of over twenty performers and at least another dozen artists, almost all of whom identify as queer.
One of the things that has surprised me most about creating The Pansy Hour is that it hasn’t just taught me about queer history—it has changed the way I think about the present.
I’ve spent the last year reading newspaper articles from the 1920s and ’30s, reading through archives, talking with historians, and learning people whose names were almost lost to history. They were performers, artists, musicians, lovers, organizers, and dreamers. They found each other and built community against all the odds. They laughed, danced, flirted, argued, created, and imagined better futures. Somehow, despite everything stacked against them, they made room for joy.
As we’ve built this show, I’ve watched more than twenty incredible artists do the same thing. Week after week, they’ve shown up with curiosity, vulnerability, compassion, and imagination. They’ve taken fragments of history and breathed life into them. They’ve made me laugh and they’ve broken my heart. They’ve reminded me why making art in community matters.
That’s what your support makes possible.
I was just saying to a friend this past weekend how this show has saved my sanity in so many ways. It’s reminded me of the power of art, the power of community, and the power of resilience. Simple being alive is an act of resistance when those in power want you dead.
When you donate to The Pansy Hour, you’re not just helping us buy lumber or build a set (although we definitely need lumber!). You’re investing in local queer artists. You’re helping preserve stories that deserve to be remembered. You’re helping create a space where audiences can gather, connect, and maybe leave seeing both history—and each other—a little differently.
Our crowdfunding campaign is in its final stretch, and we still have ground to cover before it ends.
If you’ve been thinking, “I’ll donate later,” this is later.
If this project speaks to you, I’d be honored if you’d help us get across the finish line. And if a donation isn’t possible right now, sharing this post is a tremendous gift, too.
Thank you for believing that these stories matter.
Josh Aterovis 