In January, famed composer Philip Glass announced he would no longer debut his new symphony, Lincoln, at The John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts, noting that the institution’s leadership was misaligned with the premise of a work about Lincoln’s views on American democracy.

The decision was one of protest, even before President Donald Trump’s February announcement that he would close the center (a move later blocked by a federal court order). But already the ill wind of a culture war was blowing through Washington, D.C., a battle that started within weeks of Trump’s return to the White House after he fired the board of the Kennedy Center and appointed himself chairman.

In Baltimore, the town of Glass’ birth, the news hit a decidedly more pleasant chord.

“The BSO tries to be intentional and opportunistic to provide whatever we can to our audiences,” says Mark C. Hanson, president and CEO of the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra (BSO), “so when we learned that Philip Glass’ new symphony, his 15th, would not premiere at The Kennedy Center, we immediately reached out and made the case that it might be entirely appropriate for it to receive its Mid-Atlantic premiere in Baltimore, given the fact that he had been raised here.”

Hanson says Glass’ team welcomed the opportunity to shift the performance, which will take place in June 2027 at both the Meyerhoff and Strathmore, the BSO’s home in Montgomery County.

“It’s a fitting way to make sure that audiences in both markets have the opportunity to experience what will be a major artistic statement that Baltimore’s own Philip Glass will be making at this interesting point in history,” says Hanson.

When the Glass performance moved, it joined a growing list of arts refugees from D.C. who have found a welcome home in Charm City. Baltimore is known as a creative’s town, but with more artists and audiences sheltering here, its cultural profile is on the rise—and we’re already reaping the benefits.

Amy Sherald chose to move her much-celebrated exhibit, American Sublime, from the beleaguered National Portrait Gallery to the Baltimore Museum of Art (BMA), where it broke attendance records—84,000 visitors over its 22-week run, more than double the museum’s projections. The Washington National Opera, under the baton of Marin Alsop, shifted performances of West Side Story to The Lyric away from the troubled Kennedy Center.

When Lena Waithe’s playwriting debut of trinity at Baltimore Center Stage (BCS) coincided with Issa Rae, the creator and star of HBO’s Insecure canceled her planned appearance at The Kennedy Center due to “an infringement of values.” Rae instead joined Waithe for a post-performance talkback on stage in Baltimore. The event sold out.

D.C.’s loss appears to be Baltimore’s gain. The BMA reports an increased interest from arts donors and supporters in Washington, including a 275-percent increase in membership from D.C. residents over the previous year. The BSO has seen average capacity for its core classical and pops programs grow at both its venues over the last several seasons from an impressive 51 to 66 percent at the Meyerhoff and a marked 45 to 74 percent at Strathmore.

Hanson is careful not to draw a direct line between the actions of any administration or institution when looking at those statistics. He explains that it is just Baltimore—and its arts institutions—doing what they’ve always done.

“Baltimore has always punched above its weight when it comes to arts and culture, and we’ve had to be gritty in our efforts to make sure that Baltimoreans and those outside of Baltimore know about the quality and the quantity of arts and culture in the city,” he says. “Over the last year or so, we have certainly gotten wonderful feedback from our audiences at Strathmore that they deeply appreciate the BSO’s almost-weekly presence there, the intentional, relevant, and compelling programming, and just the institutional embrace of audiences of all backgrounds,” he adds.

“We are a place that cares deeply about artists as human beings, and people are really seeing that.”

Aside from the movement of actual exhibits and performances, it is hard to state cause and effect between the events in D.C. and their impact on Baltimore. But Robyn Murphy, CEO of Create Baltimore, the nonprofit city arts council, is not shy about sharing what she sees.

“I will tell you for sure—everything is up. Attendance, visitorship, applications for arts programming—all up and significantly, it’s not even by a little bit.”

Murphy says Baltimore is in nothing short of a “cultural renaissance.” “The intentionality of rebuilding the cultural ecology in Baltimore post-COVID combined with the political tensions that are running through Washington and other parts of the country for arts and artists have converged into people really seeing this very beautiful thing that happens in our city,” she says.

While Baltimore has long been a far more affordable place for artists to live and work than its neighbors—D.C., Philadelphia, New York—the draw now goes beyond the cost of rent.

“Artists are choosing Baltimore because of the safety and creativity that exists here that doesn’t exist in other places,” says Murphy. “Sure, you can go to Atlanta, where they have five gazillion [arts] tax credits, but last I checked, Atlanta was in the state of Georgia, which, for all intents and purposes, is not a place that an artist could find safety and friendliness.

“Women’s rights are being assaulted there, whereas my state codified them in its constitution. LGBTQ people do not feel comfortable in that state. My state has provided protections for them. Not only is there a culture of creativity here, but as an artist and as people who are working behind the scenes on arts productions, we are a place that cares deeply about artists as human beings, and people are really seeing that.”

Murphy points to the fact that in May, Maryland became the third state in the union to sign the Protecting Artists’ Creative Expression (PACE) Act into law. PACE restricts the use of a defendant’s creative works—such as song lyrics and poetry—as evidence in criminal trials, putting significant guardrails around First Amendment rights.

“Baltimore’s artistic scene is weird, it’s funky, it’s off the beaten path, and it’s proud of that, and it’s always been that. It’s what drew me here from New York,” says Stevie Walker-Webb, artistic director at Baltimore Center Stage (BCS).

He explains that it’s gotten so expensive to make theater that institutions don’t want to take risks for fear they won’t recoup their investment. But in Baltimore, you can still “take a big swing at a new work” he says. One example is the play Mexodus, a hip-hop musical that premiered at BCS in 2024. It’s gone on to enormous success Off-Broadway and is now embarking on a national tour.

Instead of dialing back representation of women and minorities in the theater, BCS has doubled down “in opposition to the foolishness that’s coming out of the White House,” says Walker-Webb.

To wit, the theater steadfastly refused to accept federal money that came with the stipulation that they eradicate their DEI (Diversity, Equity and Inclusion) programming.

“We’re an inclusive space where we believe that diversity makes us interesting, that too much homogenization—in any direction—is not a good thing,” says Walker-Webb. “That makes us better artists, and when we’re better artists, we’re better citizens.”

Asma Naeem, the director at the BMA, is of a similar mind. “Baltimore’s greatest advantage is its independence—its ability to define itself on its own terms,” she explains. “Without the gravitational pull of the federal government, there is more room here for experimentation, for risk, for authenticity.”

She explains that the success of American Sublime indicates a heightened awareness around civic institutions and the role they play in public discourse, adding “We’re seeing audiences seeking experiences that feel more authentic and unmediated by the federal environment. Baltimore offers a different kind of cultural engagement—one that is deeply connected to community and lived experience, and in this moment, that distinction feels especially resonant.”

It’s not just audiences and exhibits moving to the area, but artists as well. “Our show that just closed, Holes, was almost a 100-percent local cast, which was really exciting for us—and rare,” says BCS’s executive director, Ken Matt Martin. “A big part of that was that these great actors from the DMV area…when we reached out to them, every single one of them was excited and available—that has not always been the case.”

This is not to say that Baltimore is immune to the negative impacts of a Trump White House that wants to rewrite the cultural narrative away from “wokeness.” Institutions and artists are finding that restrictive language in grant applications, for example, is making it harder to get funding.

“Baltimore is facing the same exact climate as D.C., it’s just D.C. is more public and loud,” says Kenneth Something. Something is a spoken-word artist, three-time national poetry slam champion, and founder and director of Charm City Slam.

He is also program director for the Black Arts District in West Baltimore, manages a number of artists, and has been very active in the production of large festivals, including AFRAM and Baltimore Pride. He’s seen corporate sponsors opt out of supporting events or ask to remain anonymous for fear of pushback, and large grant-giving entities are being scrutinized for their funding choices.

Also, many organizations were able to “whitewash” their identities in order to conform to federal mandates against DEI so as to remain eligible for funding. The Black Arts District literally has DEI hardcoded into its name, making the group ineligible to apply for some federal funds. And Charm City Slam lost all corporate sponsorship nearly overnight.

“A lot of the colleges and institutions that book artists are now saying that they can’t if the work is shaped around their identity,” he explains, noting that this has hit queer, Black, and female poets particularly hard. “I’m asked now if I have any artists who have songs or poems that celebrate the history of the United States versus any work that might talk about, say, gender identity.”

In the absence of corporate and government funds, the local community has stepped up in a big way. For example, Charm City Slam was able to stay afloat thanks to a large outpouring of financial support from people who believe in and value their work. Simply showing up or making a donation has become a radical act of protest and solidarity.

“Buying a ticket, encouraging a friend to buy a ticket, means more now than ever…just look at the way that stories are being silenced,” Something says. “What is needed from the general public, more than ever, is reassurance that they will continue to support the arts, because we are absolutely in a position where we could lose them.”

“Baltimore’s greatest advantage is its independence—its ability to define itself on its own terms. Without the gravitational pull of the federal government, there is more room here for experimentation, for risk, for authenticity.”

If it is true that Baltimore is in a cultural renaissance, the question is how to make it sustainable. It’s not unusual to see Mayor Brandon Scott—even Gov. Wes Moore—at a cultural event. Baltimore is a big small town, and locals tend to show up for its artists, as evidenced by Something’s windfall to keep the poetry slams alive and the extraordinary attendance numbers at festivals, exhibits, and performances. But real sustained growth needs systemic supports.

“The city can play a critical role by recognizing arts and culture as essential to civic health and a strong infrastructure,” says the BMA’s Naeem. “It’s not an add-on or a nice-to-have. That means sustained financial investment as well as policies that make it easier for creative institutions and artists to thrive: affordable space, accessible transit, and arts education in our schools.”

At BCS, Martin says he would like the city to see the workforce development potential in the arts. While audiences see the actors on stage, theaters also need welders, carpenters, web developers, and the like—he’d love to see programs think more broadly about the role artistic infrastructure can play in workforce development.

Cara Ober is the executive director and publisher of BmoreArt. She says Baltimore has always been an artist’s town, while the District is better known for its self-identified collectors (many with deep pockets). She agrees that Baltimore loves its artists but thinks the city could be doing more to provide foundational support for the artistic community that’s here.

For example, she envisions a program similar to the Dollar House movement of the 1970s to shift derelict or underutilized real estate into the hands of artists for studios, galleries, and makerspaces. She also wants to build a collector base for living artists, something BmoreArt prioritizes with its Connect+Collect program that builds relationships between visual artists and audiences who may purchase their work.

With the arts under fire, many institutions have found they’re stronger when they collaborate. Walker-Webb says Center Stage has been doing everything from cross-promoting events and sharing marketing tips, to sharing textiles and set materials with other organizations.

“We’ve really linked arms in this moment,” he says. “When we see things get back to whatever normalcy is, we have to remember that it was our solidarity that got us through this.”

One woman who knows what it means to thrive through adversity is Deborah Rutter, president of The Kennedy Center from 2014 until she stepped down in 2025 amidst the Trump Administration’s shake-up of the organization. She was in Baltimore in June to deliver the keynote address at the Meyerhoff, which was hosting the national conference of the League of American Orchestras. (The conference itself saw record high attendance.)

In the wake of her departure, she was constantly asked what advice she would give to artists and art lovers.

“To the artist, I say, continue to perform, express your art in those places where you feel safe and supported, always in truth, and with the authenticity that is essential to the free expression of your talents,” she told a packed Meyerhoff. “And to audiences, I say, trust the artist, follow the artist, continue to support the artist, wherever they feel welcome, supported, empowered and, importantly, unencumbered to share their art and their storytelling.”

She added that the trend of labeling some art as acceptable and some as not would not only fail, but that it was an exercise in futility: “The artist will always prevail.”

“It’s certainly not a time to be timid, nor to shrink from our shared mission of inclusiveness,” she continued. “It’s not a time to modulate, equivocate, or compromise our unqualified belief that art and its broad accessibility make our communities better, and our society at large more honest and reflective of who we are.”

And Baltimore, simply by staying true to its spirit of inclusiveness and boundless creativity, has been given a chance to shine.

Stevie Walker-Webb claims to be an accidental theater director. With an undergraduate degree in sociology, he originally considered a career in public service. But his love of theater—its own kind of public service—won out. At only 38, the Texas native is already an internationally celebrated director with an Obie Award and a Tony nomination under his belt.

In his first full year as Baltimore Center Stage’s new artistic director, Walker-Webb has launched an electrifying lineup of productions, including the theater’s two best-selling shows since the 2020 pandemic, and introduced innovative community outreach programs. He’s just getting started.

From your perspective, what makes a great theater experience?
Something between a raucous Southern Baptist church and an Orioles game. I want everyone to feel at home here, and I want everyone to have a good time. Even if we’re looking at something that has heavy subject matter, it can still be held with a kind of buoyancy. I like to say you get more a-has from ha-has. I’m here to laugh you into epiphany.

I’ve been at multiple performances this season, and I can attest that the BCS audiences are raucous. What are you putting in the water that’s making the audience engage like that?
That is the Chesapeake Bay, that’s what that is. I have worked pretty much everywhere, and it’s not like Baltimore. I’m talking to Broadway producers and saying, ‘This is where you want to try out your play. . . . If you want to know if a show is good or not, you need to play it in front of a Baltimore audience.’ We have truly diverse audiences here—and they talk back! We will not give you a standard standing ovation, which I love.

Are there other ways the culture of Baltimore influences your decisions as artistic director? This year, we launched Lab401. We got exactly 99 early-career or first-time local playwrights to apply. Three of them will spend an entire year in residency with us and my hope is to produce one of their plays. I want to launch local writers out of Baltimore. The stories that come out of this city are so rich and powerful and good. People just need to get access to that.

Activism has been an important part of your artistic practice. How is that influencing your work at BCS?
The reason why I wanted this job so badly is because, more than any theater in this country, BCS has a sustained and proven commitment to the community through its social programs. For 40 years, the Young Playwrights Festival has been providing a free playwriting program that goes into Title 1 schools across the city.

This year, we’re also launching the Juvenile Justice Drama Club, where we’ll be in residency at the Baltimore City Juvenile Justice Center working with young people for a full year, and the hope is to create a pipeline for them to have paid internships at BCS. Using theater to improve, empower, and give back to the community—that’s really what I’m here for.

Until now, you’ve spent much of your directorial career traveling to produce a show, and then moving on to the next project somewhere else. So this must be really different for you, being rooted in one place, programming for a specific community long-term. It’s like you’re suddenly in a marriage with Baltimore.
Yeah, a marriage with a whole bunch of kids! As a traveling director, I would get to create these little culture pods, and then I would go away from them. Whereas now, I get to really grow one—and be grown by it. It’s not six weeks now. It’s six years, or 16 years. It’s however long I’m blessed to be in this position. The commitment to that is really scary, but also super exciting.

Is there one word that encapsulates your intention for your first full BCS season?
I’ll do three words: service, to our community. Joy, in how we work and what we offer. And connection. At some point, “universality” became this dirty word. We’ve become so obsessed with a fear of appropriation of each other’s cultures that we’ve lost our ability to celebrate what makes us similar, what makes us connected. If we can make people feel more connected to the theater, more connected to themselves, more connected to each other? I would sell both of my kidneys for that.

“Who is a colored man?” a man named Depression queries from a spotlight on an otherwise dimly lit stage. A towering white billboard with the word “colored” written in all caps across it in black looms behind him. This question, along with the backdrop, set the foundation for Thoughts of a Colored Man, a new production from playwright Keenan Scott II and director Steve H. Broadnax III running now through November 10 at Baltimore Center Stage.

“I was very excited when Center Stage decided to add us to their season this year,” Scott shared during an artist talk with the cast moderated by Delegate Nick Mosby at the Reginald F. Lewis Museum of African American History and Culture last week. “Baltimore and the plight that young black men face here is very similar to how I grew up in the ’90s in New York. Baltimore was the perfect place for this piece.”

Though he is originally from Queens, New York, Scott spent the latter part of his adolescence in Southern Maryland. His history as a spoken word artist and experiences living in the suburbs of Washington D.C. and the bustling borough of Queens inspired many scenes in the play.

“My initial inspiration was to write a piece that really spoke to people from my generation,” he said, “People from the communities that I am from, and who really embody and encompass my family.”

Described by Scott as having “one theme, seven variations,” Thoughts of a Colored Man showcases snippets from the lives of seven black men presently living in gentrified Brooklyn, New York.

Each character has an allegorical name that represents a broad range of human emotions, including Wisdom (Jerome Preston Bates), Passion (Brandon Dion Gregory), Depression (Forrest McClendon), Lust (Reynaldo Piniella), Happiness (Jody Reynard), Love (Ryan Jamaal Swain), and Anger (Garrett Turner). The use of the names is an imaginative way to contextualize specific nuances of black masculine identity. “I did not see [those] stories when I was studying theatre,” Scott said.

Depression, whose story is one of martyrdom, is the only character who reveals his name early on. He gave up a full scholarship at MIT to assist his mother in raising his brother. His love for his family is unwavering, but he is constantly teased for the way he speaks, and he is insecure about his life and job as a clerk at Whole Foods.

He works to provide for his family, but despite the double shifts, his labor never changes their condition. The audience doesn’t learn the names of the other characters until the end of the performance, but it is through their dialogs with each other, and their internal monologues, that we learn why they are rightfully named.

Stripped-down props transform street corners into barbershops, and secluded parks into a grocery store. Ntozake Shange’s seminal play, For Colored Girls Who Have Considered Suicide When the Rainbow is Enuf was another major inspiration.

Scott plays with language to illuminate a timely and longstanding discourse about the power of words, America’s history of racial categorization, and the burdened legacy of identity.

“There is a visceral response when we see the word ‘colored,’” Scott replied when asked why the billboard, which dominates the stage and towers over the audience, is such a prominent feature in the set design.

As James Baldwin noted in The Fire Next Time: “Color is not a human or a personal reality; it is a political reality.” The billboard is an inescapable reminder of that political reality. When asked what he hopes audiences will experience after viewing the play, Scott remained optimistic, “I hope people will walk away with more empathy.”

“Isn’t life a series of images that change as they repeat themselves?”

It’s a question that was asked by Andy Warhol decades ago, likely rhetorically. But all the same, as the summer fades, we find ourselves thinking through the many changes this city’s artists and performers have seen in the past year, and the ones they have in store for the months to come.

This June, The Baltimore Symphony Orchestra suffered their first work stoppage in 31 years and musicians took to the streets to protest the institution’s management in the wake of a financial crisis. But still the band plays on, determined to carry on their legacy as a world-class ensemble.

In more encouraging news, in July, a year after selling pieces by Warhol, Franz Kline, Robert Rauschenberg, and others to acquire works by women and people of color, the Baltimore Museum of Art premiered an exhibition featuring black artists from the past two centuries, reconguring its Contemporary Wing to highlight the new acquisitions. And in 2020, the museum plans to celebrate the 100th anniversary of the 19th Amendment with a full year of exhibits and events dedicated to women artists.

Meanwhile, downtown at Everyman Theatre, room is currently being made for a new upstairs stage, which will play host to a new festival featuring contemporary works by women next year. And around the corner at the former Eutaw Savings Bank, work is underway to expand the France-Merrick Performing Arts Center. Farther north, Single Carrot Theatre left behind its home in Remington to spread its shows around the city, allowing long-wandering, color-conscious troupe ArtsCentric to put down roots in the old space.

Even some of the city’s oldest cultural cornerstones are feeling the winds of change. Many historic homes and museums are finally taking steps to address their histories with slavery and indentured servitude and bring those stories to the forefront—leading to new programming, exhibitions, and discoveries.

There’s almost too much to keep track of, but as we plan visits to our favorite hallowed halls and holes in the wall, we look forward to what we may find there. These new developments—whether made to physical foundations or the fundamental ways we think about a place—each make their subtle change to the repeating image. And, eventually, they evolve into a whole new scene.

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Through Dec. 1: Hitching Their Dreams to Untamed Stars: Joyce J. Scott & Elizabeth Talford Scott
For 60 years, MacArthur award-winning artist Joyce J. Scott lived in Baltimore with her mother, Elizabeth Talford Scott, who passed away in 2011. This exhibit will bring together a collection of nine pieces of art that the two made, either collaboratively or separately. There will be quilts, beaded and glass sculptures, and weavings, among other types of art, that showcase the elder Scott’s experience in the aftermath of slavery and the influence she had on her daughter. Baltimore Museum of Art, 10 Art Museum Dr.

Sept. 3-Oct. 6: Proof
Everyman’s biggest season yet opens with this Pulitzer and Tony Award-winning classic about a father and daughter grappling with genius, identity, and mental illness in the past and present. Audiences who saw resident company member Megan Anderson shine as Catherine in the 2003 rendition will delight in seeing her take on the role of Catherine’s older sister, Claire, in this new performance. Everyman Theatre, 315 W. Fayette St.

Sept. 3-Oct. 6: Daniel Stuelpnagel Solo Show
This Baltimore native has showcased his acrylic paintings nationwide for more than 20 years. In 2017, Stuelpnagel had the distinguished honor of being a featured artist for TEDxJHU at Johns Hopkins University. Now, his collection, which encompasses an interest in science, architecture, and technology with dynamic imagery, is on display at this Fells Point contemporary gallery. The Alchemy of Art, 1637 Eastern Ave.

Sept. 6-29: Twelve Angry Jurors
The decision on a life—that’s what this is all about. Experience Reginald Rose’s electrified drama, the title of which has been given a timely update, about a dozen men and women gathered to determine whether an accused teenager is guilty of murdering his father. Tempers flare as the vote comes to 11-1 and evidence is re-examined. This courtroom drama will keep audiences on the edge of their seats and thinking about exactly what it means to live in a democracy. Vagabond Players, 806 S. Broadway.

Sept. 11-Oct. 19: Bianco e Nero
Black and white does not always have to mean plain and simple. Terry Thompson explores the boundaries of maximalism and minimalism in his new exhibition of monochromatic works. With some works bustling and busy and others mellow and tranquilizing, Thompson forces viewers to focus on the encryption layered throughout this chaotic series. Become entranced by his optical illusions and feel the energy of his monochromatic world. Y:ART Gallery, 3402 Gough St.

Sept. 11-Oct. 19: Miss You Like Hell
Mother-daughter relationships can be a roller coaster for anyone, but this especially complicated example is threatened by intense immigration policies. Join whip-smart, deeply imaginative teenager Olivia and her free-spirited Latina mother on a cross-country road trip as they come to understand what sets them apart and what connects them forever. This musical without borders is a must-see and a reminder to audiences that theater has the power to make politics personal. Baltimore Center Stage,
700 N. Calvert St.

Sept. 13-Oct. 13: Mr. Wolf
In their first show after leaving behind their Remington theater in favor of ever-changing performance spaces, Single Carrot Theatre will take over the St. John’s Episcopal Church rectory to explore broken ties and reconciliation in Mr. Wolf, a tale of a child abducted and returned to her family more than a decade later. St. John’s Episcopal Church, 3009 Greenmount Ave.

Sept. 13-15: Roots & RaÍces Festival
This Charm City-based festival celebrates and showcases the work of local immigrant artists. The festivities begin Friday evening at Creative Alliance with a dinner and gala, followed by a SOMOS Migrantes film feature and awards ceremony. Saturday’s lineup includes live music and performance art at Little Lithuanian Park. Between entertainment, enjoy tasty bites at the El Mercado market.

Sept. 18-21, Oct. 2-5: Best of Enemies
Based on the bestselling novel by Osha Gray Davidson, which recently became a major motion picture, Best of Enemies depicts prejudice in the South through the relationship between C.P. Ellis, a leader in the Ku Klux Klan, and Ann Atwater, an African-American civil rights activist. This co-production by the McDaniel College and Coppin State University theater programs brings to life Mark St. Germain’s adaptation of a true story that captures the controversy of school desegregation. Coppin State University and McDaniel College.

Sept. 19-Nov. 10: Second Tri-Annual Maryland State Artist Registry Juried Exhibition
Maryland Art Place has partnered with the Maryland State Art Council to present this statewide exhibition of pieces voted in by jurors. After receiving submissions of all media types (including literary arts), with a heavy emphasis on visual and performing arts, a select few were found worthy for entry. Experience the curated pieces as they highlight the wide range of skilled artists and artwork featured on the Maryland State Arts Council Artist Registry. Maryland Art Place, 218 W. Saratoga St.

Courtesy of Mono Practice

Sept. 20: Gallery Opening: Retrospective
The Baltimore School for the Arts has been educating and promoting talent in the city for four decades now. In honor of its anniversary, the Mount Vernon institution will highlight the creations of its alumni in this reflective new exhibition. Segal Gallery in Baltimore School for the Arts, 712 Cathedral St.

Sept. 20-21: Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back—In Concert
A mix of science fiction, melodrama, and galactic action, iconic film The Empire Strikes Back will be screened alongside a live orchestra for two nights this month. Conducted by Nicholas Hersh, the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra will perform John Williams’ noteworthy score as Jedi Master Yoda teaches Luke Skywalker about the Force. Joseph Meyerhoff Symphony Hall, 1212 Cathedral St.

Sept. 28: Made in Baltimore Short Film Festival
Whether you’re a fan of animation, horror, or documentary, all these genres and more will be featured at this celebration of Baltimore-inspired film. Works are submitted by local filmmakers and then judged on technical ability, originality, and Baltimore flavor. You won’t want to miss this shot at getting a glimpse of the best up-and-coming film talent Charm City has to offer. Creative Alliance, 3134 Eastern Ave.

Sept. 29, 2019-Jan. 19, 2020: Generations: A History of Black Abstract Art
This touring exhibition will arrive under a new name and with an expanded collection of more than 80 paintings, sculptures, and mixed media pieces. This exploration of abstract art as a political choice and a personal statement for black artists will include both pioneers of post-war abstraction, such
as Norman Lewis and Alma W. Thomas, and more recent artists such as Kevin Beasley and Lorna Simpson. The Baltimore Museum of Art, 10 Art Museum Dr.

Sept. 29, 2019-Jan. 12, 2020: Melvin Edwards: The Architecture of Being
The pioneer of contemporary sculpture showcased here is also the great-great-great-grandson of a West African blacksmith. Explore how he conveys the influence of his African roots and the experience of his time living, traveling, and teaching
in Africa for many years through this collection
of 16 works from across the four decades of his incredible career. The Baltimore Museum of Art, 10 Art Museum Dr.

Oct. 4-31: Cordially Invited
For the second year in a row, Make Studio is offering a look at the works of artists with disabilities from studios around the world. This invitational exhibition will feature artists from as far away as Australia alongside local talents and celebrate the work of progressive art studios through pop-ups, artist talks, and workshops around the city. Schwing Art Center, 3326 Keswick Rd. & other locations.

Oct. 5-6: Doors Open Baltimore
Charm City has no shortage of buildings with unique designs and histories, and this annual citywide architectural exploration is the perfect opportunity to visit as many as possible. Take free self-guided walking tours through more than 50 buildings and neighborhoods, including new sites such as 414 Light Street and decades-old spots such as The Baltimore Basilica and The Arch Social Club, or sign up for bike or bus tours to discover some of Baltimore’s most interesting spaces and places on wheels. Locations vary.

Oct. 5-Sept. 6, 2020: The Secret Life of Earth: Alive! Awake! (And Possibly Really Angry!)
AVAM’s yearly exhibition is back, and it has a bone to pick with the citizens of Earth. This collection of works seeks to show visitors the state of our planet now and where it could be going if we’re not careful. Take in pieces such as Dr. Bob Hieronimus’ original 1972 Earth Day poster, Judy Tallwing’s Spirit Bear painting (which inspired 22 global poets to join AVAM in protesting the placement of an oil pipeline through Canada), and Bobby Adams’ kitchen diorama, Global Warming. American Visionary Art Museum, 800 Key Hwy.

Courtesy of AVAM

Courtesy of the Maryland Historical Society

Oct. 5-Oct. 2020: Spectrum of Fashion: Celebrating Maryland’s Style
Explore the wearable art that has defined generations of Maryland dwellers, from everyday workers to Duchess of Windsor Wallis Simpson, at this yearlong exhibition. Attend the opening gala on Oct. 5 for an early peek at the nearly 100 pieces while mingling with homegrown fashion star Christian Siriano. Maryland Historical Society, 201 W. Monument St.

Oct. 6-Jan.5, 2020: Designing the New: Charles Rennie Mackintosh and the Glasgow Style
Celebrating the 150th anniversary of iconic Scottish architect Charles Rennie Mackintosh’s birth, this is the first exhibition in a generation to highlight his work. There will be about 165 pieces on view from across various mediums, including furniture, textiles, posters, and architectural drawings. The link between Glasgow and Baltimore as the cities grew both industrially and artistically will also be explored.The Walters Art Museum, 600 N. Charles St.

Oct. 10-20: Charm City Fringe Festival
Experimental art installations, slam poetry, street acrobatics, puppet debates, dance parties—with the sky as the limit, all this and more is possible at the eighth annual Charm City Fringe Festival. This celebration of quirky theater and performing arts aims to engage diverse communities and elevate the local theater scene. The 11 days of performances across multiple venues contribute to the cultivation of Baltimore as a hub for art without boundaries. Bromo Arts & Entertainment District, locations vary.

Oct. 11-14, 17-20: Proxy
Rapid Lemon Productions concludes its 2019 Season of Belief with the world premiere of Proxy, by local authors Alex Reeves and Nell Quinn-Gibney. Directed by T.P. Huth from Inkubator New Works Development Laboratory, this play asks the challenging question, “When we die, who cares for those we leave behind?” Baltimore Theatre Project, 45 W. Preston St.

Oct. 18-20: The Snow Queen
During the premiere performance of the Ballet Theatre of Maryland’s new season, the story of The Snow Queen will come alive on the Maryland Hall for the Creative Arts stage. Watch in awe as local ballerinas use their graceful movements to bring to life the famous Hans Christian Andersen fairytale, which also inspired the Disney blockbuster Frozen. On your way out of the Annapolis theatre, be sure to grab information about the troupe’s annual performance of The Nutcracker in December as well. Maryland Hall for the Creative Arts, 801 Chase St., Annapolis.

Oct. 23-Nov. 30: Marc Boone
Boone’s art has always had two unchanging factors:
he creates works in series and employs a studio sound backdrop. In his latest exhibition, Shaman’s Way, he focuses on medicine men and women who connect with nature and all creation to influence the world of good and evil. Come experience different worlds through unique art and jazz musicians and vocalists as Boone attempts to capture some magical conjuring.Y:ART Gallery, 3402 Gough St.

Nov. 16-17: Refuge: Needing, Seeking, Finding
This collection of works from Full Circle Dance Company explores varied themes through separate works explicitly created to be shown together. The result is a challenging yet beautiful array of pieces tackling such subjects as the global refugee crisis, America’s dark past with lynching, mental illness, loss, and what exactly home means through new music and stunning choreography. Baltimore Theatre Project, 45 W. Preston St.

You recently started as the artistic director of Baltimore Center Stage after spending seven years at The Public Theater in New York. What has it been like to transition from New York City’s theater scene to Baltimore’s scene?
New York is crawling—just crawling—with theaters, ensembles, and collectives of all shapes and sizes. It’s like a proliferation of them. It’s amazing, and it’s a lot to sift through. To me, Baltimore feels like a much more intimate and focused community of art makers, and that is really exciting. In New York, you can’t even keep track.

You’ve shown interest in sociopolitical shows and the relationship between theater and community. How, in your opinion, do they connect?
The intersection between theater and social justice, civic engagement, and community engagement really calcified for me when I went to a training a few years ago called Facilitation for Social Justice at the Interaction Institute for Social Change. I was the only arts and culture worker inside a room full of healthcare workers, educators, and social service providers. I thought to myself, ‘I might be in the wrong room.’

But a big chunk of the curriculum was spent breaking down the importance of narrative inside of social justice work. A light bulb went off in my head: stories! Our society is fueled by stories and the most compelling will change people’s hearts and minds for better or worse. They’ll influence entire communities of people; they’ll influences policies and laws.

What upcoming programming are you excited about at Center Stage?
[Former artistic director] Kwame Kwei-Armah and [executive director] Michael Ross worked to put this season together. This spring, Fun Home is a successful mainstream musical that puts the LGBTQ community at the center of its narrative, which feels revelatory. Indecent does the same thing from a completely different point of view, and so does How to Catch Creation.

Those are all subverting the dominant narrative in different ways. You can expect more of that as I am planning the 2019-20 season, and I am standing squarely on the shoulders of Center Stage’s rich legacy of inviting masterful storytellers to start to subvert and challenge who’s telling what story.

What is your vision for the future of Center Stage?
It goes back to the idea of community engagement. I’m really hopeful that the Center Stage building will become even more central to the civic life of Baltimore City and the surrounding areas. I’m equally excited to get out of the building— for our activities and programs to live just as fully outside of the walls of Center Stage.

Acclaimed playwright Marcus Gardley originally penned his script A Wonder in My Soul to be set in Chicago, where it premiered at Victory Garden Theater. But when the play makes its Baltimore debut on December 6 at Baltimore Center Stage, audiences will see a new story unfold—one that is set here in Charm City.

Each version of the play takes place in a beauty salon, the owners of which struggle with the question of whether or not to relocate under the pressures of gentrification. Gardley re-wrote the play after a visit to Baltimore a few months ago and incorporates pieces of our city’s history, as well as current issues, into the revamped script.

This play covers a lot—gentrification, Obama becoming the first black president—what was the impetus for writing the original script?
I’m passionate about writing stories that feature African-American women as central characters, so I spent a lot of time in Chicago interviewing women who own beauty parlors.

Why did you set it in a beauty parlor?
Beauty parlors are really significant to me. Outside of the black church, the beauty salon is the center for all the great gossip. Usually those women are spiritual, but even deeper than that—like they have a mentor or advisor connection with their clients, especially the younger clients. It becomes like family members, and there’s something really beautiful about that. Also, these women are touching their heads, their crowns. What I learned is that these women are extremely influential in their community, and they really care about the people in their community. I always thought that that was an important story to tell.

I read a book The Colored Waiting Room by a man who interviewed Martin Luther King’s barber, which just reiterates what you’re saying: you’d hear things inside the barber shop that you wouldn’t hear anywhere else because it’s a safe space.
That’s right.

Why did you decide to take it to Baltimore?
I did a play in Baltimore called Dance of the Holy Ghosts at Baltimore Center Stage [in 2013], and it was directed by [former Baltimore Center Stage artistic director] Kwame Kwei-Armah. That was the first time I was in Baltimore, when I was at rehearsals for the show, and I fell in love with the city. It reminds me of Oakland, California, where I grew up. There’s a pride in Baltimore. People there have an intense love for their city, and also a notion of “pull yourself up by your bootstraps.” I just really admired that. So even when I was working on the play in Chicago, I always thought it would be perfect for Baltimore. It’s really a play about the city. They’re city plays. The salon is really just a symbol of the city, and these women are so strong.

When you were visiting Baltimore a few months ago specifically for research, what were some of your takeaways for the script?
While I was there, staff at Center Stage introduced me to a number of salon owners. I spent several hours talking to them about their experiences and passions, and why they want to be beauticians. Some have been at their salons for 40 years. It was incredible. Some were quite young, and others were up there in age. Then, Center Stage gave me a tour of the entire city, and I could see these salons within their larger environment. I wanted to learn about Baltimore. I also wanted these women to feel like they were heard, so I took elements of their stories and put them in the play, so they could have a sense of ownership.

Did you find a lot of similarities between the beauticians in Baltimore and Chicago? Or how were they different?
Chicago is a lot larger and more spread out, so there’s less you can do about gentrification. If you had to close and go to another part of Chicago, you’d become totally isolated. But because Baltimore is smaller, people end up moving to low-income areas. Baltimore is also very politically active. They know who their mayor is. They know to vote. They’re truly aware of their political choices.

Let’s talk about how some of this got incorporated into the new script. One thing I noticed right away were the character names.
Yes, all of the character names were changed to reflect neighborhoods in Baltimore and streets.

I noticed the 1968 riots are mentioned, too, which happened in Baltimore in and Chicago. Were they in the original version?
In the Chicago version, there’s no riot. Instead, part of the play focuses on the continuation of the Great Migration. Some of these families came to Chicago to escape the South, and now they’re being forced to move again because of gentrification. One of the biggest themes is how they feel like they can’t stay anywhere—they always feel like they have to move. And that was a tragedy. In Baltimore, one of the stories I really felt moved by were the effects of the riots and how that really changed neighborhoods, how some of them still have not recovered. There’s this pain of having lost this incredible Civil Rights activist and leader, Dr. King, and also, they’re thinking about how their city has become undesirable, so I talk about that. Some of it’s told in flashbacks. What’s great in Baltimore is Pennsylvania Avenue and the history there. These people have the strength and the history to overcome adversity, and that’s why I chose to include that element.

What types of conversations do you hope this play will generate? A lot of playwrights are activists, in a sense—though that might be a strong word—because they get communities to talk about issues they’re facing.
I think activist is the word, if you ask me, and this is really why I do theater. I hope, and this might sound corny or cheap, but I hope people are talking about, you know, how do we create positive change in our community? I hope it sparks a conversation about what role and responsibility we have. When I first started doing plays, I spent a lot of time doing talk-backs, where I’d talk about the work. But you can isolate an audience from having their own opinions about the show when you do this. I hope people talk and leave the show excited and inspired to do something.

Has gentrification affected you personally?
Absolutely. Oakland, where I was born and raised, is probably the most gentrified place in the United States. It’s something like the fourth most expensive city to live in in the country now. Literally scores of people were pushed out of the city. Literally all of my family have left. I do a lot of work there, and it’s really hard, because it doesn’t look like the place where I grew up. The people don’t look like the people I grew up with—not in terms of race, but in terms of class. So a lot of this rich history I grew up with there—the Black Panthers started there, it had this huge artistic community, an arts district with these great painters—all of that is gone. . . it looks sanitized. It’s hard to go visit.