In the patriarchal world of the Grand Ole Opry, and country music in general, Jeannie Seely has always been something of a renegade. In keeping with her tradition of challenging tradition, the 64-year-old Opry star will take the stage this week in Actors Bridge Ensemble's production of The Vagina Monologues, Eve Ensler's galvanizing celebration of female body and spirit. It's a safe bet that no other female Opry legend has broached the topic of orgasm before a live audience.
Seely has been a member of the Grand Ole Opry since 1967, the same year her single "Don't Touch Me" earned a Grammy for Best Country & Western Vocal Performance, Female. At an age when most of her peers have retired, the fit and trim singer-songwriter maintains an active career, performing at regional fairs and, several weeks a year, at Dollywood. She's a fixture at the Opry, a beloved and steady reminder of the importance of country-music history. Just last weekend, she hosted three Opry segments, an occurrence that would have been unimaginable 40 years ago.
"[Music journalist and historian] Bob Oermann's always considered me to be on the cutting edge," Seely says. "I was the main woman that kept kicking on that door to get to host the Opry segments. I used to say to former manager Hal Durham, 'Tell me again why is it women can't host on the Opry?' He'd rock on his toes and jingle his change and say, 'It's tradition, Jeannie....' And I'd say, 'Oh...that's right. It's tradition. It just smells like discrimination.' "
Seely was the first woman to wear a miniskirt on the Opry stage, though to hear her tell it, that was just happenstance. "It was 1965, I had just arrived from California, and I didn't know any better," she laughs. "But change is always difficult. The older we get, the more we resist it. And when it comes to the Grand Ole Opry, which is a tremendous American institution, I think the resistance is even greater. It's well-intentioned: everybody loves what the Opry is and what it stands for so much, they're afraid of doing anything that will risk losing its meaning. But I believe you have to change with the times. I believe that what makes an institution stand is the change that allows it to continue into the next era." Seely credits later Opry manager Bob Whittaker for opening the door a little wider for women.
Seely has dabbled in the Nashville theater scene before, appearing years ago in a local production of The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas. This time out, under the guiding hand of director Vali Forrister, she takes on one of The Vagina Monologues' signature poignant pieces, "The Flood," in which a 72-year-old woman describes her life never having experienced orgasm.
"I've had a couple people tell me, 'Only you'd have the guts to do that,' " Seely says. "I guess it takes a little courage in some ways, but to me it's something that needs to be done. I'm not really an actress, I'm just acting like one. But I feel the tragedy that this woman was made to feel and what it took away from her life."
The show features other notable Nashville musicians, including Kathy Mattea, Pam Tillis, Mandy Barnett, Maura O'Connell, Annie Sellick and Suzi Ragsdale. Acting on a tip from Oermann, ABE board president and Sony music executive Tracy Gershon requested Seely's presence in the cast. While Seely's participation may at first seem untoward for an Opry star of the older generation, it makes perfect sense.
"I think of myself as a feminist," Seely says. "My idea of 'feminist' is to make sure that women have the same choices that men have always had, and that we are respected for our roles—whatever they are—as much as any man is respected for his."
Nevertheless, The Vagina Monologues, with its intimate, often graphic discussion of female sexuality, is a long way from the plaintive cry of Seely's mid-'60s hit, "Don't Touch Me," which was written by her former husband, the country songwriter Hank Cochran.
"I thought it was awesome that the women in The Vagina Monologues were telling these stories," Seely says. "That was something that, even in my push to promote women in all fields, I had never thought about. I was very impressed."
Clearly, what Seely brings to this project is perspective. She remembers double standards at the Opry, when a female might be introduced as "a cute little girl in a pretty little outfit"; she recalls how difficult it was for women to obtain on-air jobs in radio; and she's observed the slow pace of emerging awareness regarding female health issues, particularly breast cancer. "Those are just things that I see—and the changes need to be made. I once told Dottie West, 'Somebody's got to keep pushing for these things.' I'm glad that it's changing for the women coming after me."
Like a lot of the characters in The Vagina Monologues, Seely's a survivor. But feistiness aside, it's her endearing, cheerier qualities that have made her an enduring presence at the Opry. "I have never taken lightly," Seely reflects, "how fortunate I have been to grow up and see my childhood dreams come true—to be a part of the Opry. I listened to the Opry when I was 4 years old. The Opry truly is an extended family, and I don't know what I'd do without that. It's very important to all of the performers because we all come from somewhere else, and that's our one common tie. But some folks still have a problem with a woman hosting at the Opry. There's still a sense of the men being in control. I truly am for advancing the feminist status and for getting people to change how they look at it."
