They Call Me Q Review

St. Luke’s Church, located across Eighth Avenue from the big Broadway houses is just barely off Broadway. The church has fitted its basement into an elegant theater space with comfortable chairs on risers and a small stage that still manages to have three wings. The tannish color of woodwork around the walls of the theater contrasts pleasingly with the plum walls and the whole is lit with sconces. It does not try to rival the big Broadway houses for lavishness; the atmosphere is one of intimacy and care. Fittingly, the theater often opens smaller plays and allows audiences to see young actors at the start of their careers. Quarrat Ann Kadwani is just such a young actor. She tells her story, that of a first generation American of Islamic Indian parentage growing up in the Bronx. By the end of her hour-long tale she states that she has come to terms with who she is. Along the way she does impressions of various people in her life:  her mother, her Puerto Rican school friends, herself as a Puerto Rican wannabe, an African American friend who commits suicide, her brother (briefly), her father (more briefly), and a young girl she meets in India who ekes out a living painting henna on ladies’ hands and who is the most specific, and therefore the most affecting person we meet all evening.