An alien far from home is kept from seeing his son by a foreign government: Earth’s. Emerging from fifty years of cryogenic sleep, he awakens to find himself the only surviving member of his race. Del is seventy something years old, but looks like a teenager.

Diamond Star is the 11th book in Catherine Asaro’s long-running science fiction series about the Skolian Empire. The Nebula Award-winning author earned a doctorate in chemical physics at Harvard, and is the daughter of Frank Asaro, a nuclear chemist who led the team that proposed the theory of an asteroid impacting the Earth and killing off the dinosaurs. To delve into the character of Del, the physics teacher-cum-novelist took on a new role: singer-songwriter.

Asaro admits that this rock opera based on her book is a work in progress, but the black canvas of the Warehouse’s stage lends it a touching air of the creative struggle. Tales of interplanetary conflict and futuristic technologies are told and sung on a spare stage with simple costumes, encouraging viewers to use their imagination in a way that would be quashed by CGI rendering. The science fiction author creates other worlds, and such visions always bear some resemblance to the world at home, but this is never more clear than on a bare stage. The song “Starlight Child” was written for a character in a fictional battle for the identity of his race, but Asaro also dedicated the song to her daughter, who performs an interpretive dance to the song, reaching for the metaphorical stars as the author beams with maternal pride from the shadows.

If The Diamond Star Project sounds a little corny, well, that’s because it is, but its utter earnestness is part of the charm. Asaro has an endearing presence, breaking out into dance moves that suggest a space-age Ann-Margret. Her performance doesn’t have a trace of smugness, which in this age of irony is a fringe element indeed. One of the plot elements of this rock opera is an intergalactic battle of the bands, in which the hero Del wields, “One of the greatest weapons ever known: a song!” This is still a rough diamond, but in the Earthly arena of the Capital Fringe festival, I’ll take its sincerity over slickness any time.

Remaining performances:

Friday, July 20, 10 p.m.
Sunday, July 22, 8:30 p.m.
Friday, July 27, 7:45 p.m.
Sunday, July 29, 12 p.m.

At the Warehouse, 645 New York Avenue NW