HOOPS, the show that just made its world premiere at Milwaukee Chamber Theatre, was never meant to be a theater production. It started as a portrait project by multidisciplinary artist Nicole Acosta, sharing the stories of people who wear hoops and what the earrings mean to them, while charting their cultural and historic significance.

But when MCT’s artistic director Brent Hazelton told her that he thought HOOPS had the potential to be a play, Acosta shared the vision. They enlisted playwright Eliana Pipes to pen a script, inspired by dozens of true stories from the original portrait project. Milwaukee musical artist Britney “B~Free” Freeman-Farr composed music for the production, writing songs that bring energy and life to the stage. 

The show came together in a rapid whirlwind, at least by theater standards. And that raw, creative and at times unhinged energy is what makes it shine. 

HOOPS opens with three performers taking the stage: Paulina Lule, Ashley Oviedo and Celia Mandela Rivera. B~Free’s “I Love My Hoops” bumps through the speakers as the characters sing and dance along, showing each other their hoop earrings like they’re on a runway. They grapple about gold vs. silver and whether it’s better to get a lot of plated pairs or spring for the real thing. It’s like being a fly on the wall at girls night between three close friends.

Immediately you know the show is going to be a lot of fun. And it is, but it’s also a learning experience. One fun scene features Mandela Rivera with an overhead projector – yes, the old-school kind – explaining how hoops date back to ancient Africa. She’s interrupted by Lule, who disagrees, explaining that the credit belongs to Donna Summer. The pair eventually come to an agreement that both indigenous Africans and Summer deserve some credit for the cultural significance of hoop earrings.

The heart of the show is in its monologues. The three performers deliver a handful of stories inspired by the real people who participated in Acosta’s portrait project. A daughter tells how she saved up for years to replace her mom’s broken earring; a man talks about how he wears the earrings as a showing of masculinity; and a young cancer patient talks about how she wore the earrings to her chemo treatments. 

These often heart-wrenching tales are broken up by lively songs, sketches and dancing. One of the most entertaining scenes features Oviedo – who has some impressive pipes – belting Mary J. Blige’s “I’m Goin’ Down,” except instead of singing about her lost love, she’s crooning about her lost earring. 

But as fun as it is, the show is undeniably uncomfortable – as is often the case when you’re dealing with hidden histories and difficult truths. One monologue takes you through a time when a woman is made to feel “unprofessional” at work because of her hoops and natural hair. Later, when this narrator climbs the proverbial ladder, she makes a point of wearing her hoops again, to show young co-workers, “It’s not unprofessional if the boss is wearing them.”

Later we catch up with our protagonists playing a game of jump rope. They chant about a “Barbie” – alluding to a person who resembles the stereotypical version of the doll – posting a photo wearing hoop earrings on Instagram. They joke, “How many followers will she get?” As they skip rope, they count like kids on the playground adding by the thousand, until they get frustrated. This leads to a conversation about the “clean beauty” trend that’s popular on social media apps like Instagram and TikTok right now. One of the characters asks: “If it’s clean on Barbie, does that mean it’s dirty on me?” 

That is the crux of the conversation – and, in many ways, the show. 

You’ll leave wondering: Is it a question of who should wear hoops? Or is the real problem that two people wearing the same pair of earrings are treated differently? Or maybe it’s both. 

After the show there was a talk-back with Hazelton, B~Free, Oviedo and Mandela. The audience grappled with some of these questions, sharing stories of their experiences wearing the earrings and talking about times when the play made them feel seen. The show is certainly relatable, especially for people of color who sat in the audience. I’m half Puerto Rican and have never put much thought into my relationship with hoop earrings before. I own a few pairs of varying sizes, but I never like to wear the biggest ones when I wear my hair naturally curly. Is it really because I don’t like the look? Or is it something deeper?  

I wasn’t the only member of the audience thinking about tough questions. A mother in the back of the crowd shared a story of how her daughter, who she said could be described as a “Barbie,” liked to wear big earrings and occasionally hoops. She had never thought of how that could make people of other cultures feel and the show had made her question if that was OK.

It’s rare to find a show that delights, educates and challenges you so seamlessly, but HOOPS pulls it off. The creativity shines through, and so does its message. It’s my hope that this production will be picked up nationally and have a long, promising future beyond its Milwaukee run. But in the meantime, catch it while it’s still here. The show is running through April 2 at the Broadway Theatre Center (158 N. Broadway). Tickets and more information are available here. 

And after the show, it’s worth checking out Acosta’s original HOOPS project. The portraits and videos are on display across the street from the theater at MARN (191 N. Broadway Suite 102). 

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