Telly Leung on New Album Celebrating LGBTQ Diversity in Theatre

Musical theatre is often regarded as being “so gay,” but lyricist EllaRose Chary and composer Brandon James Gwinn feel that despite that, it’s often not very “queer.”

The award-winning duo shares a vision for the inclusive musical theatre space they want to see and create, and that vision takes shape in songs on their new album Place and Time. Celebrating LGBTQ diversity, the album shines a spotlight on women, queer POC, enbys, and trans folk.

Full of fun, flirty, emotional, and nostalgic songs sung by characters who are revved-up, spiced-up, and sometimes fed up, Place and Time features Broadway artists from under-represented segments of the community. From Tituss Burgess to Daisy Eagan, they all sing about emotions they can personally relate to.

OFM caught up with Telly Leung, who sings “The Things I Don’t Say,” the first song Chary and Gwinn ever wrote together. A world-renowned actor, some of his Broadway credits include the title character in Aladdin, Boq in Wicked, Angel in Rent, and Young Sam Kimura in Allegiance. Leung passionately believes in “paying it forward” and giving back to the next generation of theatre artists and performers.

Can you begin by telling us why you wanted to be involved with Place and Time?
I’ve known Brandon James Gwinn, the composer, for many years just from the New York City nightlife world, but I really knew him as a music director and accompanist first. When I learned he and his writing partner EllaRose Chary were creating a project and writing from a queer perspective, I thought that was fantastic. Writing from a queer perspective, of course, that’s a huge part of our identities, but they’re going beyond that. They are writing outside the box for these queer characters to have every experience human emotion in the book, and that’s what I was interested in. It’s beautiful how much humanity they’ve captured in these songs, and how they are told through a queer lens.

What have you personally taken away from this experience?
Well, making an album during a pandemic is always interesting, right? (Laughs). But a beautiful community of people have gathered together for this album. A lot of these folks are friends of mine, and they are well known in the New York nightlife, Broadway, and queer community. They are queer artists. So, I’ve really enjoyed knowing that I’m a part of something like this with them. Also, the song I got to sing, “The Things I Don’t Say.” When I heard the demos, it was a female voice, and I had a nice conversation with Ella about the lyrics, what they mean, and how it was inspired.

She was like, it’s that experience when you are with someone for the first time, but you’re not sure of their sexuality, and you’re also not sure of your own. It’s that moment of give and take of who’s going to make the first move. Is something happening? Is there electricity here? Do you have a crush on me? Are you feeling what I’m feeling? I love that they brilliantly captured that moment, and that this song can be sung by anybody.

“The Things I Don’t Say” is the first song EllaRose and Brandon ever wrote together. How meaningful was that for you, and did you feel any hard pressure?
I didn’t feel any pressure because, again, I’ve known Brandon for so long. We are such old friends, and we have such a wonderful musical shorthand with one another. I know it’s their first song, and I know it’s their baby, so of course, I feel honored that they were going to trust me with it. I also felt like I could give this song justice, and I knew I would bring my heart to it. Because I am part of the queer community and they wrote this song with us in mind, it was so special. Even though it’s my first time singing the song, I think it was a good fit. They had good instincts about that.

Ultimately, what do you hope listeners take away from Place and Time?
First off, I hope that the queer people listening to it and hearing the stories and songs see themselves, and that they feel a little less alone. People that are not in the queer community, I hope they listen to it and go, “Oh, gosh, I felt that too.” We aren’t really that far from one another. If you are cis, if you are straight, if you are not somebody who readily identifies with the queer community, I want you to listen to these songs and realize that we’re not that different. That’s the goal of all art.

I think Stephen Sondheim recently said something before he passed along the lines of how art puts order to the chaos of the world. So much of the world, whether it’s religion, politics, or social structures, were put in place eons before any of us were born. They were created by other people, and at the end of the day, theatre is what reminds us of our common humanity and sort of makes that chaos go, it’s not that deep. We all love, we all feel anger and rage, we all feel joy and sadness, it’s universal. So, that’s what I really hope people take away from this album.

Not only does Place and Time shine a spotlight on under-represented segments of the theatre community, but it also brings up how LGBTQ people have been struggling to decipher what part of the community they fit into. Have you experienced this problem?
I certainly have, but I think the inclusivity is much better than when I first came out. I came out around 20 years ago, and I had a hard time struggling with my sexuality. I dated girls in high school, experimented with boys in college, then went back to dating girls as an adult after graduating college, and now I’ve been married to a man for 17 years. I remember going through all that stuff, and there was a time when I had many people say to me there was no such thing as bisexuality. You just haven’t made up your mind. Bisexual just meant you were in sexual purgatory figuring it all out.

I feel like that conversation has gotten so much more nuanced and inclusive because we are more respectful to everyone’s journey. I teach university kids and young musical theatre artists now, so when I work with them, I sort of go back and remember what life was like for me back then. I must be respectful of their journey, and it’s an ever-evolving journey. I may be 42, but I’m still figuring myself out. Just because I’m one thing today, that doesn’t mean I’m going to be that same thing tomorrow. Every breath we take, we’re a different human being. I think we have to give each other the grace and time for each person to figure that out for themselves.

Why do you think the theatre community is taking such a long time to diversify in the ways we would like to see it?
That’s a really, really good question. For a long time, I think Broadway has been driven by what people think will make money. I’ve been in those shows, and I remember the huge shift after Times Square got cleaned up. The Disneyfication of Broadway. Growing up in New York City, Broadway used to be this sort of dangerous place where my mom would grab my hand and not let me walk west of Eighth Avenue. Now, it’s a very touristy area. Before the pandemic, Broadway was doing very well, but it was mostly selling to a specific audience.

You have some shows that discuss serious issues and address diversity, like Wicked, but it’s done in a commercial theatre way that’s inviting for the entire audience. In 2019, those shows did very well. Then when Broadway stopped in 2020 and we are now slowly coming back, it’s going to be interesting to see. I think after long periods, or dark times, there’s always a renaissance of arts. There’s always a reenergizing and a redefinition of what a particular art form is. We are sort of starting to look at what audiences want on Broadway.

Slave Play did not do commercially well before the pandemic, but it returned to Broadway. That’s a huge deal. I think it’s because we’ve gone through this period where we’ve really had to reexamine what art means to us, what stories we want to hear, what stories we need to hear, and what stories we’ve been hearing over and over again. The audience is usually a tourist audience, but because they aren’t here right now, we have to address the audience that is already here, and they want stories they haven’t heard before. There are new demands on commercial theatre, and audiences want to connect more.

Have you always had a passion for musical theatre?
Yes, I started when I was 8 after seeing Into the Woods on PBS. I didn’t even know that’s what it was. I didn’t know that was musical theatre. I didn’t know it was written by Sondheim. I didn’t know who Bernadette Peters was, but I did know those were fairy tale characters. I knew them very well, and I loved the fact that they were being told in this creative way. They all had a mission, and their stories were combined. I just thought it was so clever. I was hearing a new perspective on them, and I was sucked into the story. Good theatre does that to you.

Before we wrap up, is there anything else you would like to mention or plug?
During the pandemic, some of my Broadway friends and I wanted to make some art. I had some wonderful producers, some of them from Allegiance, who completely sponsored this project, and we made a 45-minute, virtual musical called The Nice List. It is very family friendly. James Monroe Iglehart plays Santa; Ann Harada is in it, as well as a whole bunch of people from Avenue Q, Sesame Street, and Aladdin. We basically called up all our friends. Gary Adler wrote the music, and it’s this story about how Santa has to leave town and he works remotely with the elves. The elves are left in charge of the North Pole, and they must decide who goes on the naughty and nice lists, which is something Santa usually does. Of course, they have an existential crisis.

It’s a cute, family friendly musical that also has a wonderful message. It was free to watch last year, but now it’s on Broadway on Demand. If you go to NiceListMusical.com, it’s donate what you can, and every penny goes to Feeding America. During the pandemic last year, I lived across the street from a church that turned into a food bank. I watched the lines get longer and longer every day. People in masks waiting for food. We were like, it costs $4 to put a meal on somebody’s table. If we can get people to donate $20, that’s literally five meals, and you get a great family musical to stream with your loved ones during the holidays.

To stay up-to-date and connect with Leung, follow him on Instagram or visit his official website. Place and Time is available on Spotify and Apple Music.

Photos Courtesy of Gavin Calais and Ted Ely