Patti, We Get It. You're a Diva. But This Ain’t It.
by Chris Peterson, OnStage Blog Founder
Patti LuPone has long built her brand on being Broadway’s no-nonsense, truth-telling, don’t-you-dare-use-your-phone--in-the-front-row diva. And listen, there’s a place for candor. There’s even a place for a little theatrical flair offstage. But in 2025, there’s also a line. And in her recent New Yorker profile that would make any publicist bang their head on their desk, Patti didn’t just cross that line. She gleefully stomped all over it.
Let’s start with the part that made my jaw drop. When talking about the incident last year regarding show volume between the walls of Hell’s Kitchen and her show, The Roommate, she calls Kecia Lewis, a respected Broadway veteran of stage, a “bitch.” Not jokingly. Not affectionately. Just... dismissively.
Ms. Lewis was the one who called Patti’s actions “racially microaggressive” and basically stated that as one veteran to another, we should be better than that.
Patti responds in the New Yorker piece questioning Lewis’s credentials(“She’s done seven(shows). I’ve done thirty-one. Don’t call yourself a vet, bitch.” ) and basically suggests she doesn’t know what she’s talking about.
To be clear, Ms. Lewis could have been in just one show, let alone the ten she’s actually been in, and be considered a Broadway veteran. Secondly, Ms. Lewis, A TONY WINNER HERSELF, has had a more than 40-year career on Broadway(slightly shorter than Patti’s) and was in the original casts of Dreamgirls, Once on this Island, and the ‘96 revival of Chicago. So put some respect on her name.
Then, when told Audra McDonald supported Kecia at the time, Patti responds, “Exactly. And I thought, ‘You should know better.’ That’s typical of Audra.” Typical of Audra?
Now I know there are some people who find this entertaining. Patti has always been framed as the grand dame who doesn’t play nice, and that persona can feel refreshing in a world where celebrities often say nothing at all. It’s unscripted. It’s spicy. It’s got BroadwayTok talking.
But just because something gets clicks doesn’t mean it deserves applause. Here’s why this isn’t cute.
First, it’s not punching up. Patti is not some underdog lashing out at an oppressive system. She is the system. She’s a Tony-winning legend with decades of influence behind her. Using that platform to call another performer a “bitch” isn’t brave. It’s bullying.
Second, she’s not critiquing a performance. She’s diminishing a person. Disagree with someone’s take on the business all you want, but personal attacks cross a line, especially when they come laced with bitterness and dismissiveness.
Third, the target of her anger is Kecia Lewis, a Black woman in an industry that hasn’t historically done nearly enough to protect or uplift Black women. Patti’s comments don’t exist in a vacuum. They reinforce a dynamic that’s been harmful for a long time.
And then there’s the Audra of it all. Audra McDonald is one of the most respected, decorated, and beloved performers in Broadway history. Her support of Kecia was thoughtful and generous. For Patti to brush her off with a smug “that’s typical of Audra” shows exactly how little she’s interested in dialogue and exactly how much she’s interested in being right — even when she’s loudly wrong.
Patti’s “I tell it like it is” shtick worked in another era. Back then, the diva who didn’t suffer fools made for good press and a few legendary sound bites. But we’re not in that era anymore. Right now, the theater world is trying to be more inclusive, more compassionate, more human. And that means the old rules — where cruelty was mistaken for charisma — don’t really fly.
Patti LuPone has had an extraordinary career. Her talent is untouchable. Her legacy should be legendary. But legacy is about more than belting your face off or being the fiercest Mama Rose. It’s about how you treat people once the curtain comes down.
The saddest part is, Patti didn’t have to say any of this. And what’s worse — she wanted to.
She wanted to drag Kecia. She wanted to dismiss Audra. She wanted the world to know that in the church of LuPone, there’s only one preacher at the pulpit.
But we don’t need that kind of sermon anymore. Greatness in 2025 looks like generosity. It looks like lifting others up. It looks like knowing when to speak and when to just let others shine.
So sure, some might find this all entertaining. But at what cost? A laugh at someone else’s expense? A headline bought with someone else’s dignity? Broadway has room for legends. But it also has room for growth.
Update: Reconciling Art & the Artist in the Wake of Patti LuPone's Controversy