Sometimes, destiny hides in the most unexpected places — like a high school fundraiser or a dusty bookstore shelf. For Portland-born performer and playwright Jacob Storms, it was a chance encounter in 2012 that sparked a lifelong creative connection with one of America’s greatest dramatists: Tennessee Williams.
“I actually had no interest or knowledge of Tennessee Williams until a strange series of events took place back in 2012,” Storms recalls. At the time, he was living in New York City when his alma mater, The Northwest Academy in Portland, called with an invitation to fly home and give a speech at their annual scholarship fundraiser.
While in town, he learned that his middle school — da Vinci Arts Middle School, where his passion for acting had first taken root — was hosting a benefit organized by Laela Wilding, Elizabeth Taylor’s granddaughter. The event? A screening of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, starring Taylor and Paul Newman.
“One of the founders of da Vinci, Connie Cheifetz, heard I was in town,” Storms remembers, “so they asked me to introduce the screening — and to sing happy birthday to Elizabeth Taylor’s ghost, since it was on what would have been her eightieth birthday.”
It was a surreal moment that changed everything. The next day, Storms wandered into Powell’s Books, still thinking about the film. “I wanted to learn about the person who created that amazing work of art I saw the night before,” he says. “As soon as I walked in, Tennessee Williams’ Memoirs was on display, staring at me!”
Opening the book, he was struck not only by Williams’ words but by something more personal — a physical resemblance. “When I saw his picture, I thought, This is eerie. And as I read, I resonated with his love of humanity and his reflections on society and culture. That was the moment I knew I had to write a play about him — and play the part myself.”
The Hidden Era
Storms began to dig deeper. His friend, playwright Charles Busch, encouraged him to explore Williams’ lesser-known early years and handed him a copy of Tom: The Unknown Tennessee Williams by Lyle Leverich, the only authorized biography.
“I realized there was this earlier period in his life that had never really been explored — from 1939 to 1945 — when he was struggling to find his voice as the world was falling apart during World War II,” Storms says. “Learning about his struggles as a young artist made me appreciate his later success so much more.”
Williams’ friends nicknamed him ‘Tenacity Williams’, a nod to his “religion of endurance.” It was this persistence through heartbreak, rejection, and poverty that fascinated Storms — and became the foundation of his solo play, Tennessee Rising: The Dawn of Tennessee Williams.
Family and Inspiration
At the heart of Tennessee Rising is Williams’ complex relationship with his beloved sister, Rose, whose mental illness profoundly shaped his life and art.
“It’s also during that period that he met many of the real-life figures who inspired his major characters — Big Daddy, Maggie the Cat, Stanley Kowalski,” says Storms. “And I wanted to include his grandparents too, especially his grandmother, who he said was the closest thing he had to God.”
That relationship struck a personal chord. “I was always close to my grandmother too,” Storms adds. “She used to call me ‘Old Man’ because of my old soul — just like Tennessee’s grandmother told him he was ‘born old.’ It’s those little parallels that made me feel like I understood him.”
A Collaboration with Alan Cumming
After performing the play for a year, Storms received another stroke of creative fortune: the chance to collaborate with Alan Cumming, one of his longtime artistic heroes.
“It was a dream come true,” he says. “Alan is also a huge Tennessee Williams fan, so getting to work with him so closely to revamp the play was more than I could have ever hoped for.”
Over six months, they refined the script line by line — cutting, expanding, and reordering scenes until the story reached a new level of intimacy and power. “Alan encouraged me to put even more of myself into the performance,” Storms explains. “He gave me permission to take bigger chances, to make it deeply personal.”
The result is a show that thrives in any setting — from 30 people at Club Cumming in New York City to 700 at The Theater at Innovation Square in Rochester. “It doesn’t matter the size of the venue,” Storms says. “The story always connects.”
Why Tennessee Still Matters
For Storms, Tennessee Williams is more than a playwright — he’s a timeless example of resilience and authenticity.
“Williams’ tenacity, his refusal to conform, his ability to keep going in the face of rejection and chaos — it’s something we can all learn from,” Storms says. “The parallels between the world of Tennessee Rising and what we’re living through today are shocking. I hope it inspires young artists to keep creating even when hope feels lost.”
From Portland Roots to the National Stage
Storms’ own creative journey began in Portland. “I actually started as a visual artist,” he recalls. “I thought I’d be an illustrator until I got bitten by the acting bug in middle school.”
By high school, he was already tackling challenging work. “When I was sixteen, my director, David Wagstaff, asked me to perform I Am My Own Wife, a solo play with 35 characters. It was wild — but that experience changed my life. It gave me the courage to write and perform Tennessee Rising years later.”
A Special Seattle Performance
Now, Tennessee Rising returns to Seattle for a special one-night-only engagement on Thurs, October 30th— free with RSVP — for GenPride and the local community at Seattle’s Neighbours Nightclub at 6:30pm.
“There’s a two-drink suggested minimum since Neighbours is generously giving us the space,” Storms says. “But the idea is to make the show accessible — especially for GenPride members and Seattle seniors who might have missed it at Intiman last fall. It’s also a chance to celebrate the incredible work GenPride does for our community.”
Endurance, Then and Now
From an unexpected phone call to performing the story of Tennessee Williams on stages across the country, Storms’ journey mirrors the playwright’s own belief in perseverance.
“Williams called it his ‘religion of endurance,’” Storms says. “That’s what keeps me going, too. When you’re an artist, you just have to keep showing up — even when the world tells you not to. That’s what Tennessee did. And that’s what Tennessee Rising is all about.”
