The recent controversy around Patti LuPone and Kecia Lewis, compounded by LuPone’s dismissive remarks about Audra McDonald and her derogatory name-calling toward Lewis, has sparked a renewed conversation on Broadway about race, privilege, and the power dynamics that shape the industry. At its core, this disagreement is not just about noise complaints or personal grudges. It exposes a much deeper issue: the marginalization of Black artists in an industry that often fails to recognize the full worth of their contributions.
The Dispute: From Noise Complaints to Microaggressions
The initial controversy began when Patti LuPone, performing in The Roommate at a neighboring theater, found the sound from Hell’s Kitchen—a Broadway musical starring Kecia Lewis—to be disruptive. LuPone contacted the Shubert Organization owner, like we all do (read: no we don’t), requesting adjustments to the sound levels. A standard professional grievance in any theater setting. After Hell’s Kitchen made the changes, LuPone sent flowers to the sound and stage management teams of Hell’s Kitchen.
However, what seemed like a resolved issue to LuPone quickly escalated when Kecia Lewis picked up on the underlying dynamics of the situation. Lewis identified LuPone’s actions for what they were: not only rude and dismissive but racially microaggressive. As a Black woman, Lewis recognized that LuPone’s complaint wasn’t simply about sound—it reflected a deeper disregard for her peers and discomfort with the cultural expression of Black artists. Lewis also shared a troubling instance where LuPone refused to sign a Hell’s Kitchen Playbill, stating, ‘I’m not signing Hell’s Kitchen, they’re too loud.’ This comment, coupled with the formal noise complaint and her swift action in wielding her power without engaging in dialogue with those affected, underscored how Black voices and creative work are often disregarded, even in the same professional spaces as their white counterparts. It’s also crucial to note that Lewis never labeled LuPone as racist; rather, she called out the bullying, privilege, and microaggressive behavior LuPone exhibited. The words Lewis chose in her statement were carefully crafted, respectfully calling LuPone into community with the grace and dignity one would expect from a theater veteran of her caliber.
LuPone’s Recent Remarks: Escalating the Disrespect
The controversy took a darker turn when, in a recent profile for The New Yorker, Patti LuPone not only called Kecia Lewis a “bitch” but also dismissed Lewis’s accomplishments by comparing them unfavorably to her own. LuPone inaccurately inflated the number of Broadway shows she’s been a part of, while downplaying Lewis’s Broadway experience. This wasn’t just a personal attack—it was an attempt to diminish Lewis’s credibility and artistic contributions.
To make matters worse, LuPone’s remarks about Audra McDonald, in which she expressed disappointment over McDonald’s support for Lewis, further compounded the racial dynamics at play. LuPone’s frustration with McDonald’s stance is telling—it reflects how Black artists who stand in solidarity with one another are often criticized, even by their white peers. This attempt to undermine McDonald’s support for Lewis reveals the discomfort some white artists have with Black voices standing up for themselves, particularly when those voices challenge the status quo.
The Implications of “You Should Know Better”: Dismissing Audra McDonald’s Voice
Patti LuPone’s statement to Audra McDonald, telling her she “should know better,” is a particularly telling moment that reveals the implicit biases at play in Broadway’s treatment of Black artists. On its surface, the comment appears to be “not that deep,” but when viewed through the lens of race and power, it takes on a much deeper meaning.
First, the assumption that McDonald “should know better” reinforces a belief that Black artists should conform to white standards of behavior, professionalism, and conduct, regardless of the circumstances. This statement subtly implies that McDonald, The most nominated and decorated performer in Tony Awards history, should already understand her place in the hierarchy of Broadway as a Black performer and that publicy (or privately) challenging or confronting disrespect is out of line, no matter how many Tonys you have. It also minimizes McDonald’s veteran experience and frames her as being less capable of making valid, nuanced decisions—an all-too-common racial stereotype.
Second, the statement places the burden of “knowing better” on the Black artist, subtly suggesting that McDonald should have been more accommodating, more silent, or more deferential in the face of LuPone’s behavior. This type of thinking perpetuates the idea that Black artists should tolerate the microaggressions and disrespect they often face in order to “maintain the peace” and avoid rocking the boat.
Lastly, it undermines McDonald’s authority and voice. To tell a Black artist they should ‘know better’ is to implicitly suggest that their judgment or response to a situation is invalid. McDonald’s advocacy for Kecia Lewis—another Black artist—was not an attack on LuPone’s professionalism but a call for accountability in light of the racial dynamics that the industry has claimed it wants to address since the ‘Broadway Reckoning of 2020.’ LuPone’s response, however, invalidated McDonald’s perspective and reinforced the idea that white voices should be prioritized, while Black voices—especially those speaking out—are seen as unprofessional and unworthy of respect.
This moment exemplifies how power dynamics and racialized expectations work to suppress the voices of Black artists in Broadway’s predominantly white spaces. It exposes how white artists—even those with immense stature like LuPone—are given a pass for dismissing or silencing the opinions of their Black peers, while Black artists should “know their place.” It also serves as a reminder that even established Black artists like Audra McDonald are not immune from being treated as less than in this system, no matter how much they’ve achieved.
The Racial Undertones: A System of Privilege and Power
LuPone’s actions reflect a deeply entrenched problem in the theater world—one that fosters a system of privilege, allowing white artists to control the narrative while Black artists are often forced to remain silent and submissive. The broader industry permits figures like LuPone to dismiss and belittle the work of Black artists without facing the same level of accountability. LuPone’s response to Lewis’s rightful critique exemplifies how power dynamics continue to marginalize Black talent in Broadway’s predominantly white spaces.
The racial undertones of the entire situation are evident in the way LuPone’s words and actions—whether intentional or not—seek to silence and diminish the contributions of Black artists. Her treatment of Kecia Lewis and Audra McDonald is symptomatic of a longtime industry illness where white stars are the first right of belief, while Black artists must constantly fight for equity and basic respect.
The Unseen Forces Shaping Broadway’s Power Dynamics
These microaggressions—those small, often unintentional slights—are an everyday reality for Black artists. LuPone’s refusal to sign a Hell’s Kitchen Playbill is an example of how implicit bias works on an unconscious level. It wasn’t a calculated attack but rather an unconscious reflection of her ingrained biases, where the cultural expression of Black artists and their work are undervalued. What may have seemed like a simple noise complaint to LuPone became, for Lewis, a striking reminder of the subconscious and unchallenged biases that frequently affect Black artists.
In Broadway’s ecosystem, implicit bias influences who gets heard, who gets celebrated, and who is silenced. Black artists like Kecia Lewis and Audra McDonald are often expected to bear the weight of their success quietly, without challenging the established power structures. When they do, even in small ways like calling out disrespect, their actions are frequently perceived as “difficult” or “disruptive,” especially when their white counterparts—like LuPone—are praised for doing the same things.
Implicit bias isn’t always intentional, but it’s just as damaging. When LuPone criticized Hell’s Kitchen in a way that suggested the work of Black artists didn’t deserve the same level of respect as other Broadway productions, it exposed how pervasive these biases are in a world where privilege often goes unchecked. Her behavior toward Lewis and later toward McDonald when she expressed support for Lewis showcases the dynamic of privilege at play. White stars, regardless of their behavior, are often excused, while Black artists face harsher judgment and severe scrutiny for similar actions.
In short, implicit bias is what allows Broadway to continue upholding racial power dynamics without actively acknowledging them. The difference between how LuPone’s actions were excused versus how Lewis faced criticism speaks to the unconscious prejudices that influence even the most minor interactions. These biases are a part of a broader system that continues to marginalize Black voices in the arts, even when those voices deserve to be heard just as loudly and clearly as their white counterparts.
A Tale of Two Responses: Lillias White vs. Patti LuPone
The disparity in how Broadway stars are treated based on their race is starkly evident when comparing two celebrated performers: Lillias White and Patti LuPone. Both of these legendary actresses have had moments of tension with audiences, but the reactions to their behavior could not have been more different.
When Lillias White, a Black Tony Award-winning actress, called out an audience member during a performance for using what she believed to be a recording device (which was later revealed to be a captioning device), the backlash was swift and severe. White was criticized by some for her approach, with many questioning her professionalism and demanding an apology. However, the reality of her frustration was apparent: Black artists are constantly navigating a space where their voices and boundaries are not always given the same respect as their white peers. White was met with harsh judgment for standing up for herself and the integrity of her performance.
In contrast, Patti LuPone has snatched phones from audience members and publicly yelled at theatergoers on multiple occasions. Instead of facing criticism, LuPone is often praised for her outspokenness and boldness. Her actions, while similarly aimed at preserving the integrity of the performance, are seen as “part of her legendary persona.” This stark contrast in responses reveals a deeper issue in Broadway’s treatment of Black artists versus white artists. While LuPone’s behavior is excused or celebrated, White’s is scrutinized, even though both were merely standing up for their space and their craft.
This double standard speaks volumes about the unequal expectations placed on Black artists. This kind of disparity highlights the ongoing need for Broadway to reassess its approach to addressing issues of race, power, and respect within its community.
The Broader Implications: How Black Talent is Undervalued Across Broadway
The implications of Patti LuPone’s behavior are deeply troubling, especially when considering that she felt so comfortable publicly disrespecting Kecia Lewis, a Tony Award-winning actress. Suppose a renowned Broadway icon like LuPone can dismiss and belittle a Black artist of Lewis’s caliber without facing significant consequences. In that case, it raises serious questions about how other Black actors are treated behind the scenes. Black talent in theatre, even those with the highest accolades, is often subjected to microaggressions, marginalization, and erasure. This is not to suggest that an artist without accolades deserves such treatment, but if someone as established as LuPone feels emboldened to act with such disregard, it serves as a stark reminder of how pervasive these issues are. Black artists, especially those without the same platform or recognition, likely face even greater challenges in navigating the industry. It’s a clear signal that Broadway must confront the systemic racism that continues to undermine the voices and contributions of Black performers at every level.
An Industry at a Crossroads
The LuPone controversy, serves as a poignant reminder that the fight for equity and respect on Broadway is far from over. It’s not just about complaints or personal disagreements. It’s about how race and privilege continue to shape the opportunities and treatment of Black artists in an industry that claims to be a space for creative expression and diversity.
As artists, creators, and leaders in the Broadway community, we must continue to push for an industry that genuinely values and respects Black talent. The conversation about race, professionalism, and the impact of language is not and will not be rooted in a single incident. It’s ever evolving and we have to be willing to create a space where all artists, regardless of race, are allowed to thrive, be heard, and be respected. This moment presents a crucial opportunity for the theater community to reflect on its internal dynamics and examine how power and privilege influence not only the work on stage but also the relationships behind it. It’s time for accountability, and for an industry that prides itself on being the most diverse in creativity and inclusivity to truly reflect those values in how it treats all of its artists.
