Matthew LaBanca, the creator of the gripping, provocative one-man piece Communion, is a dedicated elementary music teacher currently working in Queens, New York City.  As evidenced by the faithful reproduction of his classroom blackboard, shown via projection while the audience waits for the show to start, LaBanca is clearly loved by his students– many of whom know him affectionately as “Mr. Matt”.  When LaBanca does enter the intimate stage of the cell (more about that later.,,), it’s not hard to discover just WHY “Mr. Matt” has been such a successful teacher. LaBanca opens Communion by leading the audience in a sing-along to the hymn Somebody’s Knockin’ on Your Door.  This moment alone makes the case for the eternal importance of live theater.  The entire audience was singing… and although I suspect that several attendees that night were actually professional singers (This is New York City, after all.), I think we sounded pretty damn good for an impromptu moment.  The audience was convinced that this music teacher could transform a gang of tone-deaf crows into a chorus of cardinals.  This is combined with LaBanca’s dynamic persona.  Matt clearly enjoys what he does: As he uses dramatic hand and arm gestures to convey the flow of the music, he wears a big smile with wide, smiling eyes to match.  Indeed, good teachers are hard enough to find… and the good ones have never gotten the respect they deserve. 

Before LaBanca became a teacher, he was an established multitalented performer who appeared in many shows on Broadway (Young Frankenstein, White Christmas, A Christmas Carol).  He also received critical accolades for his solo show named Good Enough in 2014.  His career took a different path when he became a choir leader and a music teacher for a Catholic school.   In 2021, he married his husband Rowan.  Can an openly gay artist find both a career and a spiritual home in the Catholic Church, whose rules haven’t changed much through the decades millennia? The answer was indisputably a “Yes!”, with many of his Church community attending his shows (“Hi, Matt! We’re coming to your one-man show!! The whole choir bought tickets!”)– even if some of the, ahem, “cross promotion” was accidental.  (As any fellow New York City performer knows, having your friends come to your show– with a seemingly infinite amount of entertainment options every day competing for attention– is always an admirable achievement in itself!)  In LaBanca’s own words, “It was a community that wanted me. It was a community that wouldn’t vanish on closing night. It wouldn’t even vanish when Covid came. I had found a new home base. THEY had found ME!”    LaBanca’s situation seemed idyllic, until an anonymous person (A person who, as of the latest performance of the show, still remains a mystery) signal boosted the news of LaBanca’s wedding. Six weeks later, the teacher was fired from St. Joseph’s Catholic Academy after 10 years of employment.  This was despite the support of the principal, the students, the parents, and the Church community at large. One can’t help but wonder HOW such an incident could happen in 2021 in New York City, purportedly one of the most LGBTQ-friendly places in the world.   LaBanca was offered a considerable severance, with the stipulation that he stay quiet about the issue.

He didn’t.

The teacher decided to fight back, starting with going public. His story became a news sensation, simplified by a New York Times headline: “A Gay Music Teacher Got Married.  The Brooklyn Diocese Fired Him.”  But as you may have gathered by now, there is far, far more in Communion than the story that thrust LaBanca into the spotlight: The beloved “Mr, Matt” has a lot to say about his life before and after “le scandale” as well.  Directed by Kira Simring, Communion is guaranteed to foster many post-show discussions about religion, sexuality, identity, tradition, prejudice, and much more.  Be prepared, for example, to learn about a “retreat for gay priests”.  (It’s a stunner…)

The intimate space of the cell theatre is perfectly suited for Communion, which is obviously a VERY personal piece for Matt LaBanca; it’s outright challenging to see his aforementioned wide, smiling eyes swell with tears in the second half of the show. That said, Communion has MANY moments of pure joy and humor, which makes the central injustice of the story even more dramatic.  It’s not easy to carry an entire performance piece all by yourself– particularly one which, as mentioned before, is so intensely personal.  The intensely charismatic LaBanca meets that challenge.  The piece is also bolstered by Julianne Merrill’s unique creative inclusion of projections, music, and video.  

This Communion is well worth receiving!    

Communion will run September 29 at 8pm, October 1 at 2pm, October 6 & 7 at 7pm, and October 8 at 3pm. Nancy Manocherian’s the cell theatre is located at 338 W. 23rd Street, New York, NY 10011. Running time is 65 minutes. Tickets are $20, available at www.thecelltheatre.org.

Communion features projection, music and sound by Julianne Merrill; additional projections by Ryan Belock; set and costumes by Rodrigo Hernandez; lighting and technical direction by Julian Singer-Corbin; and production stage management by Richard Urquiza. Brian Reager is Associate Director and Mara Jill Herman is Associate Producer.