←Recommendations of FROZEN FLUID

Spellbinding. Jamerson slowly bends time and space before weaving them both and more back into and onto themselves in a mythic and disorienting exploration of identity, human interaction, and climate change. Our world demands we “define” ourselves, and finding those words is difficult enough, but add on top of that our self-induced apocalypse? The pacing mimics our confusion and paralysis. There is so much potential for visually and audibly arresting stagecraft in this script, I can barely imagine what it would be like to experience live. I hope to one day do so. Absolutely tremendous.

An astonishing play. In rhythmic cadences evocative of heartbeats, dripping water, tides, three characters endure a slow-motion apocalypse and the human need—and fear—of being known.

FF is about gender, and also transcends it. Tay, Jamerson’s nonbinary protagonist, speaks the play’s themes most directly: about their desire to exist outside of their body, and feeling most themself when not being perceived. Yet all three characters buck against the outside world’s attempts to define them, and posses a universally relatable desire to be embraced in all their contradictions, pleading “stop telling me I don’t exist”.

The most intriguing aspect, and an apt description, of Fly Jamerson’s Frozen Fluid is the play’s subtitle: An Antarctic Gender Non-Conforming Creation Myth. It’s accurate, telling, and sets the proper expectations for an evening of theatre. And, like all great myths, Frozen Fluid is simultaneously personal and epic, drawing in its audience to the personal details that reveals an epic truth.

There’s a powerful and gorgeous sense of liminality throughout Fly Jamerson’s play. Three characters explore their identities—embracing their fluidity, understanding what it means to construct them, and navigating how we are perceived and move in the world—against a backdrop of a melting Antarctica. Jamerson pushes back against the imagined sterility of a frozen landscape and creates a visually stunning play where life, death, and rebirth all bleed into one another.

Mythic, queer, gorgeous, singular work. Glorious. Fly Jamerson’s play has broken my mind wide open. Read it. Produce it.

Three researchers investigate the implications of global climate change, its effects on plankton and algae blooms, and the calamity of masses of dying whales. Exhibiting either dreams or madness, each get caught in spectacular considerations on identity, the importance of naming the animals, as Adam was said to have done, naming themselves, and naming each other. An Antarctic fever dream, stretching back to the beginning of time to the present moment, from when humans were all genders in one being, before being split apart by the gods, or by God, or by nature. It's gorgeous, and I highly recommend it.

Part exploration of identity. Part commentary on global warming. Part retelling (and retelling) of the book of Genesis. This is one of those plays that I can't wait to see staged because I can not even fathom how incredible the stage craft of it all would be. This play is also a gift to TGNC performers.

We are pleased to support this play! It was a Finalist for the 2020 New Works Festival at Kitchen Dog Theater in Dallas, Texas.

This play is a FINALIST for the 2020-2021 In-Progress New Play Reading Series at Unicorn Theatre in Kansas City, Missouri. It is our pleasure to support FROZEN FLUID.

Playwrights Foundation enthusiastically recommends this play, FROZEN FLUID, as a Semi-Finalist for the Bay Area Playwrights Festival 2020. We were moved by the quality of the writing and the relevant and compelling themes that spoke to the mission of our festival. It excelled in a competitive process of 735 plays submitted this year and rose to the top after a six month long process discussing its merits with both national and local Bay Area readers, and we hope it moves swiftly towards production.