The Envoy

Under the golden hues of a small chandelier stands a young Isaiah Tyrelle Boyd.

As the towering black doors of Club Fugazi open, he crosses into a kitschy cabaret-style theater with lighting straight out of a red-light district. Isaiah’s vision tunnels beyond the sea of tables dotted with cocktails and locks onto the stage marking the front of the room.

Cast members of Beach Blanket Babylon, the world’s longest running musical revue, saunter across the floor towards the direction of the stage, making their way to their dressing rooms. Isaiah makes his way to his dressing room…under the club…via the basement. He’s the only cast member not yet old enough to buy a drink, his presence in the theater is effectively illegal.  

But the then 19-year-old Isaiah is neither fazed nor intimidated by this separation and element of risk.  He knows he’s not supposed to be in the theater because of his age, but he knows he’s 

supposed to be in the theater because of his talent. 

“I definitely felt like the shit when I got hired at Beach Blanket. I can’t walk in there, I’m not old enough. But I work here because I’m good,” he says to me over the phone with a coolness, dragging the ‘oo’ syllable in good. 

From childhood, nothing other than the art of acting and theater enthralled Isaiah more. As a child, no matter whose house he was in, Isaiah planted in front of the warm static of the television screen as the 1978 film, The Wiz, took him to another world. 

“Don’t let Isaiah pick the movie!” his cousins teased at family gatherings, anticipating Isaiah’s eager recommendation.  

At home, while sitting alone, the film acting as his babysitter, his only company, reality melted away. While watching mega stars like Diana Ross and Michael Jackson ‘ease on down the road’ on his VHS tape something spoke to Isaiah. Like sparks of a firecracker, the burning desire to emulate the same craft shot off in his brain. 

“I know I can do that,” he quietly thought to himself, the reflection of the tv shining in his eyes. 

“I didn’t have an experience of watching Black people sing and dance,” Boyd says recalling the PBS kids ballets and movie musicals of the 90s and early 2000s. The Wiz’s caliber of choreography, costume design, music, and of course acting inspired young Boyd to harness the innate thespian bug in his body, set it free and pursue his passion. 

Walking through the basement of Club Fugazi, 40 years worth of fantastic theater elements that Boyd dreamed of as a child surrounded him. Like artifacts in a museum, he took in the sight of 60 pound hats and opulent tiered gowns congesting clothing racks. The smell of hair products used to sculpt wigs that sprung several feet into the air swirled in his lungs.  

Externally, Isaiah stepped into these costumes, masquerading himself in order to explore and portray the dynamics of a theatrical character. In tandem, internally, the campy makeup and hair challenged the limits of his conservative Evangelical Christian perception of self and the world. 

“There was a lot of stuff that I was very anti and maybe like some self-hatred for being queer a little bit too,” Isaiah says. 

The technical advice from a former acting teacher lingered in Isaiah’s mind: Your onstage problems are your offstage problems. Problems with a character mean you have that same problem in real life. 

Isaiah’s personhood informs his character and vice versa. Any issues with cast members or characters places him in a space of introspection. When just a teenager, theater began teaching Boyd the skill of stripping back the skin of one’s character and dissecting what makes up one’s morals. 

The act of playing and interacting with flamboyant queer characters (on and off stage), confronts rigid “traditional” conventions of manhood and self expression. At Beach Blanket Babylon, his world spun with so many different types of people and so many different walks of life. Everyday Isaiah hopped on a train or a bus traveling back and forth from his home in Richmond, California to San Francisco. His experiences in a space with other queer people, telling a queer story played tennis with his experiences in a religious household. The conservative background presented “all types of stupid shit” that challenged his performance of putting on a queer character as an actual queer man. The tension between the two radically different home and professional spheres revealed to the confident young adult aspects of himself he might actually need to work on. 

Ultimately, emulating a queer character at Beach Blanket Babylon opened Isaiah up to values outside of himself. 

“There are people that think differently than me and just because they think differently than me does not mean that they’re going to hell or that they’re bad people. And that’s okay. As opposed to their bad people and they need help.” 

 Isaiah’s life for essentially a kid looked pretty nice on paper. Realizing a dream, practicing a passion, having an introspective transformative experience, and most importantly (arguably) making a sustainable living. 

“You didn’t have to work a second job, you could just work at Beach Blanket Babylon and pay your rent. You could live as a performer in the Bay Area which was a really hard thing to do unless you’re just bouncing around from gig to gig,” he says. 

However, his ambition being ever-green, Isaiah’s heart craved a Broadway stage. While still in the Bay Area Isaiah came across an ad for a workshop for the musical A Bronx Tale directed by Robert DeNiro and Robert Sachs. 

“Seventeen year-old but looking for 18+ to play seventeen…well I’m 21[or 22, he can’t remember] I’m going to fly out there and audition,” he thought to himself. And he was off. 

Isaiah’s feet left the ground of California and found themselves on a plane bound for New York for the first time. 

Not wanting casting directors to know he lived in California, for three weeks Isaiah flew from coast to coast for callbacks. Isaiah’s hope for the show to be picked up to the Broadway Company kept his motivations alive as he burned through his savings with each flight. 

He successfully booked and completed the workshop, but wanted to shed California. Already in New York and nowhere else to go, Isaiah stayed in the Mecca of theater. If Broadway was the wizard, the theater world was Oz, and Isaiah needed to get to the wizard. Getting onto some of the world’s greatest stages still occupied the top of Isaiah’s list of goals. 

When A Bronx Tale got picked up by Papermill Playhouse in New Jersey, Isaiah received a callback to do the show. The show never got the attention from Broadway while he’s cast. Him and two others get dropped. The pressure of needing a job not giving him enough time to wallow in any dejection, Isaiah grabbed a contract for a dinner theater job in Colorado. 

“I won’t do that ever again,” he says, reflecting on the technically illegal labour (illegal with less of exciting and glamorous flair) of being both waitstaff and actors. “I left that contract early. They were so mad at me but I didn’t care,” he says. 

While on a trip to Las Vegas, Isaiah came across an opportunity to audition for The Book of Mormon. With another shot at Broadway on the horizon, Isaiah makes a pilgrimage back to New York to audition. 

Nothing. 

Despite the experience of riding the San Francisco regional circuit and stacking a resume with roles in Avenue Q, The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee, breaking into the Broadway scene still proved to be difficult. 

“Maybe casting teams I thought I was too young, maybe I was not ready yet,” he says recalling his feelings after the failed attempt. Still determined and admirably stubborn enough to perform under Broadway lights, Isaiah auditioned for The Book of Mormon five more times without receiving a callback. 

“What kept you motivated to keep going back for more?” I asked him over the phone. 

“My desire to be on stage is bigger than myself,” he responds. “Knowing that I’m impacting someone in some way, even ever so subtly, invoking them to change their life.”

As I listen to his response, my thoughts return to his anecdote on The Wiz’s impact on his childhood, thinking about the circular cycle of creation and inspiration. 

In 2018, Isaiah landed a role as an ensemble member in the second national tour of The Book of Mormon titled The Jumamosi Tour. For the past six years, Boyd has been a part of The Book of Mormon cast. The tour paused in 2020 due to the COVID-19 pandemic, but in 2021 he returned as the Doctor and as an ensemble member. After years of tackling the winding roads of the theater world, Isaiah is now accomplishing his goal of reaching the apex of the theater and honoring the desires of his childhood self to pursue his passion. 

While being a member of one of Broadway’s longest running shows, in October of 2024 , he co-produced the first ever “Hunter Underground,” an art showcase demonstrating the visual and performing artistic talents of Hunter students. Isaiah now attends Hunter College to pursue a Bachelor of Arts degree in Theater. Now one may catch Isaiah in the halls of the Baker Building or if they grab tickets, on stage at The Book of Mormon.