 For more than four decades, Larry Aguilar has captivated audiences with dazzling drag performances, inventive choreography, and a stage presence that blends glamour, humor, and storytelling. But beyond the costumes and applause is an artist whose greatest pride isn’t measured by crowns or standing ovations—it’s the friendships, mentorship, and sense of family he’s built throughout a lifetime in entertainment. Aguilar’s love of performing began long before he ever stepped onto a professional stage. “I actually started acting in junior high school,” he recalls. “My sisters and I were those children that created plays and musicals for our parents and the neighborhood kids. We also made TV shows with an 8 mm camera, so that actually got me interested in performing—the feeling that I got when I was out on stage.” After joining the U.S. Air Force at just 17 years old, Aguilar came out and began discovering the LGBTQ+ community for himself. Looking back, he remembers a welcoming environment that challenged everything he expected. “I never experienced any kind of hate,” he says. “It was always good experiences, and I was always treated with respect, and that was also in the Air Force. This was way before ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.’” That optimism has remained with him throughout a career that began in the late 1970s. When creating a performance, Aguilar starts with the music, then builds every element around it. “I’m not one of those people that can, as they say, ‘park and bark,’” he laughs. “I have to be able to dance. I have to move. The number has to have some comedy or humor. After that comes the outfit, and to me it has to be a brand-new outfit.” One of his favorite creations was portraying Pepper from American Horror Story, a role that pushed him creatively in unexpected ways. “Doing Pepper let me create someone I never knew,” he says. “The minute I got the bald cap on my head and stuck that fake nose on, it was so cool.” The performance even caught the attention of Naomi Grossman, the actress who originated the character on television. “She actually reached out to me and told me how she enjoyed my performance, and that was truly exciting for me.” For Aguilar, drag has always been much more than entertainment. Early in his career, veteran Texas pageant queens taught him that visibility comes with responsibility. “Being out in public can be difficult, but it also gives you a platform,” he says. “With that platform, you have to make sure that you’re doing it right, and you’re able to let people know the good and bad of the community.” Even after decades on stage, Aguilar continues looking for ways to surprise audiences. One of his favorite memories came when audiences assumed he was performing another Cher number—until the music suddenly shifted into Puttin’ on the Ritz and a 30-person flash mob joined him for an elaborate tap routine.
“The audience was like, ‘That man still has it,’” he says with a smile. Away from drag, Aguilar has become one of New Mexico’s most respected choreographers, creating more than 50 musicals for community theaters across the state. His recent work with Cardboard Playhouse has become one of the most rewarding chapters of his career. “I have been very lucky to be a part of the Cardboard Playhouse Theatre Company,” he says. “It’s probably been one of the most exciting and fulfilling things I’ve done in a long time.” Working with children and teenagers has reminded him why he fell in love with theater in the first place. “You give them choreography, they’ll do it, they’ll fall on their head, they’ll get up, they’ll laugh, and they’ll do it again. These kids are so inspiring.” Aguilar believes staying connected to younger performers is what keeps him growing as an artist. “You always have to be relatable, relevant, new, and surprising,” he says. “You have to stay with the young performers. That’s what’s going to keep you going.” His greatest challenges, however, came away from the stage. After returning to Albuquerque following the loss of his partner, Aguilar endured a torn Achilles tendon during a performance, Non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma requiring months of chemotherapy, a burst appendix, and rotator cuff surgery. Rather than focusing on those hardships, he remembers something far more important. “I needed a lot of friends,” he says. When asked how he hopes people remember him, his answer has little to do with performances or accolades. “I hope I’m remembered for my friends and my friendship,” Aguilar reflects. “I hope they remember my challenging choreography, the ability to create magic out of little resources, and also to create a family.” Then he adds the words that perhaps best define his remarkable career. “I love my friends. I believe in friendship. I hope that’s what people remember me for—the good times, the margarita parties, the Oscar parties, and the hugs.” For Larry Aguilar, the spotlight has never been the destination. It’s simply been the place from which he’s inspired generations of performers, created unforgettable moments, and reminded us all that the greatest legacy isn’t found in applause—it’s found in the people whose lives you’ve touched along the way.
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 Playwright PC Verrone answers the question, "What happens when classic horror tropes are turned upside down and reimagined through an Indigenous lens?" What happens when classic horror tropes are turned upside down and reimagined through an Indigenous lens? Playwright PC Verrone answers that question with Bad Medicine. This world premiere production combines supernatural suspense, sharp comedy, and timely social commentary into an unforgettable theatrical experience that encourages reflection on Indigenous issues and representation. While audiences may recognize echoes of horror classics, Bad Medicine is anything but conventional. Verrone describes the production as "Indigenous Get Out meets Rosemary's Baby," offering a fresh take on the genre while challenging long-standing stereotypes that have often defined Native characters and cultures in film and theater. The inspiration for the play came from a desire to rethink familiar horror conventions. "This play started as an attempt to balance my love of horror stories with their overuse of tropes like 'Indian burial grounds' and 'cursed totems,'" Verrone explains. "I wanted to flip the script by writing a story that centered Native perspectives and made the source of the mystical terror European in origin." That shift in perspective allows Bad Medicine to do more than entertain. Beneath its scares lies a meaningful exploration of Indigenous identity, colonialism, cultural appropriation, and Native communities' everyday experiences, emphasizing its relevance for social justice advocates and Indigenous audiences. Verrone says horror proved to be the ideal genre for exploring those themes because of its ability to amplify emotional truths. "I wanted to connect the ways that Native people are discouraged from seeking out community and culture with non-Native peoples' appropriation of those same cultures," he says. "I hadn't really seen that relationship discussed in that way. Horror's heightened emotional scale allowed me to reveal the real violence in the small, everyday indignities that Native people experience."  Kholan Studi and Taras Moses during rehearsals of Bad Medicine. Although Bad Medicine delivers genuine suspense, audiences can also expect plenty of humor. For Verrone, the combination wasn't something he consciously planned. It simply reflects the way he approaches storytelling. "That wasn't necessarily intentional," he says. "I think I naturally gravitate to comedy as a way out of very tense situations. What I love about horror as a genre is that it can be campy and over-the-top, as well as spooky and suspenseful. You can twist the audience's expectations and really surprise them!" Authenticity has been central to every aspect of the production. From the beginning, Verrone believed Indigenous representation throughout the cast and creative team wasn't simply important, it was essential. "Oh, that was paramount," he says. "The play is about Native personhood being co-opted by non-Native people, so the entire show would fall apart if not for Native creatives throughout the production. But this representation is also necessary because we all come from a variety of different tribes and nations, so we're also bringing our own culturally specific perspectives to the themes of this show." Seeing Bad Medicine come to life on stage has been a deeply personal milestone for the playwright. "I don't exaggerate when I say that this has been a dream of mine since I was a little kid," Verrone says. "We don't invest nearly enough into producing new plays by emerging playwrights, so I'm grateful to be in this position. It has been unreal seeing the creative team bring their own visions to the world that I wrote and puzzling out how to transform the play's moments of theatrical magic from words on a page to a fully embodied experience."  PC Verrone is excited to present his brand-new play, Bad Medicine, on the Santa Fe Playhouse stage. Beyond the thrills and laughs, Verrone hopes audiences leave the theater reflecting on their own relationship with Indigenous communities and culture. "I would like audiences to leave considering their relationships to Indigeneity," he says. "What are the assumptions you have about Native people that are, in fact, limiting or dehumanizing? What is your connection to your own heritage? I want people to leave understanding that there is work to be done, but there is a dawn at the end of the night." This reflection is central to the play's social commentary and its call for awareness and change. As someone who has worked across multiple storytelling mediums, Verrone says live theater offers a uniquely collaborative creative process unlike any other. "There is a unique energy to being part of a collaborative process like live theater," he explains. "When I write a script, my goal is not to be didactic about how the story should appear onstage, but rather, to write in such a way that will inspire my fellow collaborators. I think of it as an invitation for their imagination." That spirit of collaboration, and the play's willingness to challenge expectations, makes Bad Medicine appealing even for audiences who may not typically see themselves as theatergoers or horror fans, inspiring curiosity and a desire to explore new storytelling experiences. "Bad Medicine is not your typical play, nor is it your typical horror story," Verrone says. "In some ways, this play is breaking the rules of both to create necessary conversations about how we exist on this land in relationship with its Indigenous peoples. This question is only becoming more pressing as our current attitudes lead us towards environmental catastrophe and the total degradation of the human spirit." With its blend of suspense, humor, and meaningful social commentary, Bad Medicine demonstrates how theater can entertain while asking audiences to examine history, identity, and the stories we tell about one another. Santa Fe Playhouse invites audiences to experience the world premiere of Bad Medicine running August 8–30, 2026, with performances on Fridays and Saturdays at 7:30 p.m. and Saturdays and Sundays at 2:00 p.m. Opening Night is August 8. Tickets are available at santafeplayhouse.org For readers interested in exploring more of Verrone's work, his debut novel, Rabbit, Fox, Tar, is available wherever books are sold. Information about future productions of Bad Medicine and upcoming projects can be found at pcverrone.com. - Teresa Robinson of PRIDE & Equality Magazine and New Mexico Entertainment Magazine
 PEEKSHOW features the mind blowing stop-motion short films of renowned performance artist Peekaboo Pointe, an interdisciplinary artist with an MFA in Performance and Interactive Media Art from Brooklyn College and a BFA in Dance from George Mason University (NYC). Her films are melancholy and campy, taking head-on issues such as the aging female body and what it means to be a performing artist in a digital age, as well as her own personal struggles with fertility. As a queer film maker and performing artist, Peekaboo Pointe’s work celebrates the unveiled female form as a site of agency and subjecthood.
PEEKSHOW also includes a talk-back between the artist Peekaboo Pointe and scholar Dr. Lynn Sally, author of Neo-Burlesque: Striptease as Transformation, as well as an add-on intimate theatre experience at some venues. SCREENINGS: 2/20/23: PEEKSHOW @ El Cortez Theater, T or C, 7:30 pm. $10 Suggested Donation at Door 2/21/23: PEEKSHOW @ University Art Museum at NMSU, Las Cruces, 6 pm. FREE 2/25/23: PEEKSHOW @ Jean Cocteau Cinema, Sante Fe, TIX $20-$35 PERFORMANCES: 2/18/23: Dr. Lucky’s Blue Revue @ Hotel Andaluz, ABQ, 8 pm. TIX $20-$35 2/19/23: Zircus Erotique @ Jean Cocteau Cinema, Sante Fe, 7:30 pm. TIX $25-$35 For more information visit www.lynnsally.com. |
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