Brit and Ari are the last virgins in the ninth grade. Naturally, they’re going to steal Brit’s brother’s tent to host their deflowering.
Yet their outrageous plan to both have sex at the same time, for the first time, is the least compelling thing to happen in the tent. Instead, in “Camping,” a new play at HERE Arts Center, the tent is the epicenter of two best friends’ lives over 25 years. It’s the space where they find out who they are and what they mean to one another—and whether any of that can exist outside the tent’s paper-thin panels.
Factually, much of their lives happens outside of the tent. They work for the Girl Scouts. Ari goes off to college, while Brit stays back in rural Ohio. Brit works at a bar and hates it. They have husbands. Kids they peek out of the tent to yell at.
Yet playwright Victoria Lynne Barclay paints a whole different life inside this tent. It’s a radical third space where the outside world is somewhat present—we see warm light or storms coming in (lighting design by Vittoria Orlando), hear sounds of a rave or children playing (sound design by Salvador Zamora)—but explore thoughts, feelings, and relationships Brit and Ari don’t allow themselves to have outside.
The moments we see inside the tent are cherry-picked: the first night of them losing their virginity; as counselors before Ari leaves for college; at a rave where they realize how much their lives have diverged; reuniting as adults.
But it’s less about the circumstances that bring them to the tent, and more about what that access to a third space at that point in their lives allows them to explore. Inside the tent, Brit and Ari are free from examination from others, and in turn, get to examine themselves. There, they can ask silly questions to try and understand what being a woman in the world means. They can also try to figure out what being a woman who likes other women—particularly their best friend—means.
What’s most masterful about Barclay’s writing is that so much of this desire between them is indirect but palpable. When Brit smells Ari’s blood on a sleeping bag, she nearly goes into blind rage because she thinks her friend is hurt. When Ari learns Brit got into a car with their creepy teacher, Ari spirals about what could happen to Brit when she’s not there.
It’s all the different ways to say “I love you” without actually saying it.
Alice Kremelberg (Brit) and Colby Minifie (Ari) further build this tension in their stolen looks and weighty pauses. Someone’s hand is on someone else’s arm for just a little too long, someone turns away from looking when the other is changing just a little too late. Their task of playing from 15 to 40 is no easy feat. The age transitions aren’t always seamless—scenes sometimes feel abruptly chopped, and the physical costume swaps are a touch messy—but Kremelberg and Minifie are most convincing in the older years, where they carry Brit and Ari’s accumulated, unrealized dreams.
Each moment in the tent becomes weightier and weightier as the outside world threatens to let in. The tension is no longer whether these women love each other, but whether they’ll allow themselves to. The tent is the place where they can finally acknowledge what they’ve spent years outside avoiding. But are they willing to let those feelings exist beyond the tent walls?
“Camping” thrives in its confined space. Because even though we only know Brit and Ari inside the tent, the play argues it may be where they’ve always been the most themselves.
How to see ‘Camping’
“Camping” runs at HERE Arts Center through July 11th.
How I heard about it/how I got tickets: A press invite! I’ve also been following HERE for a while after seeing a few of their shows. We love a theater that champions new work (and doesn’t make me go uptown).
How to get cheap(er) tickets: General admission is $31.50, and there are ten Access tickets for $10.50 available per each performance.
While this offer has passed, I think it’s worth mentioning: Colt Coeur, the Brooklyn-based theater company producing “Camping,” offered five families up to $75 to cover childcare during performances. Hell yeah accessible theater.
Shows I’ve Seen/What’s On My Radar
Two Strangers Carry a Cake Across New York
Tess and I took a post-Tonys visit to a nominee for Best Musical. Review incoming, but this was a charming musical about two 20-somethings meeting and changing each other’s lives in an unconventional, hilarious way. Spoiler alert: we loved it. Running now.
Romeo and Juliet
This is the first of The Public Theater’s two productions in Central Park this summer. By the time this newsletter comes out, I’ll have seen it less than 12 hours ago. From what I’ve heard, the production is reimagined with a modern political backdrop—and also a bilingual script. Romeo and Juliet speak to one another in Spanish, while the rest of the production is in English. Runs through 6/28.
As You Like It
You can see Shakespeare outside of Central Park, with The Public Theater’s mobile unit production that travels across the five boroughs. I’ll be in Prospect Park for its closing weekend at the end of June. Runs through 6/28.
Othello
The Public Theater isn’t the only theater that offers free Shakespeare in the Park. Head uptown to Harlem and you can catch “Othello” this summer. The Classical Theater of Harlem has run some of my most joyous theater experiences in NY—here’s a review of their 2024 “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” to convince you. Runs 7/2-7/26.
Dad, Don’t Read This
Plays about girls are in. After a successful run uptown in May, “Dad, Don’t Read This” just opened at The Greenwich House Theater. We follow four girls at a sleepover in Central Ohio while they play The Sims and talk about girlhood. Runs through 7/11.
Dads who are reading this: you can go to their Dad Affinity Night on Sunday. Finally, something for the dads!
Knicks in Five
That performance was quite dramatic and joyous.





