That's Not Burlesque

Burlesque – pronunciation: bəːˈlɛsk

NOUN
1 an absurd or comically exaggerated imitation of something, especially in a literary or dramatic work; a parody: a novel which is a burlesque of the literary life [mass noun]: the argument descends into music-hall burlesque
2 a variety show, typically including striptease: [as modifier]: burlesque clubs

VERB

parody or imitate in an absurd or comically exaggerated way:
‘a mock-heroic farce that burlesques the affectations of Restoration heroic drama’*

 

This post has been tumbling around in my head (and some peoples ears I know) for a long time.  One of my personal bugbears is when I hear anyone within the burlesque community opine ‘That’s not burlesque’.  Burlesque is a broad and evolving art form and I personally feel that it is presumptive and precious to try and pin it down to any kind of narrow definition. 

The other huge problem I have is that it is so often used to denigrate the hard work of others who might otherwise prove to be lively and interesting members of the burlesque community.  Most Frequently I hear it about the following forms:

1/. Jazz/Cabaret Burlesque

The majority of people outside our community picture one of two things when they hear ‘Burlesque’; Dita Von Teese or this:

Show Me How YOU Burlesque

Whatever you want to call it; Pussycat Dolls Burlesque, Cabaret Burlesque, Xtina Burlesque.  What it is, is recognisable.  It’s big, it’s sparkly, it’s escapist; something it shares with the burlesque theatres of the great depression.  Really if the majority of the population recognise it as ‘burlesque’ who are we to bemoan that it isn’t (I mean not really, right?).  We know better than the 1 million plus people who bought the DVD**.

Call it Jazz Burlesque, Xtina Burlesque, Pop-Burlesque or whatever you like but don’t try and denigrate it.  When you say it’s ‘not burlesque’ and heap scorn on the people who enjoy it you turn them right off.  That’s a huge potential audience you’re excluding.  If they’re looking for bowler hats and jazz hands that’s fine, just because it doesn’t fit our aesthetic doesn’t make it wrong, just different.

There are jazz burlesque classes in nearly every dance studio in Canberra now and you know what?  They’re fun, they’re silly and they are great for improving your choreography if, like me, you aren’t from a dance background. Sure you don’t remove much more than a hat and glove but burlesque is a world of less is more and if even one or two of their students comes to a show, signs up to a workshop or books classes to try another style, that’s one more person we didn’t have before.  Our community is not so large that we can ostracise these people for starting with something that’s ‘not burlesque’.

Welcome them, be excited about their experiences, their viewpoint and share yours with them, who knows you might learn something too.

2/. When clothes stay on

Some of the best burlesque I have seen has involved the removal of absolutely zero clothing.  Before you decry ‘Burlesque is striptease, if you don’t remove clothes (you guessed it) it’s not burlesque!’ I refer you to definition two above, the Follies Begere and Minsky’s!  Performers come to burlesque down all kinds of paths and like life there is no one right way.  As a performer I have learnt so much from performers who come to burlesque via butoh, clowning, absurdism, drag and even power-lifting.  I have learnt about controlling my body, about physical theatre and especially comedy, humour, make up and many other things from these performers, tips and tricks I carry with me and happily share with others.

These performers are an integral part to our community, back in the day these performers may have been called ‘specialty acts’ but they were an integral part of the burlesque theatres in the golden age of burlesque along with the comics who were the original main feature of the burlesque theatres.  Who are we to exclude them now because they don’t take off their clothes?  Sounds a bit silly doesn’t it?

3/. When you don’t like someone’s act.

This is the worst kind of denigration, it is hurtful and dismissive of other people’s efforts.  I have heard it more times than I would like to count and I have to bite my tongue whenever I hear it.  Just because you don’t like something doesn’t make it ‘not burlesque’.  Be honest about why you don’t like it, or the performer, that’s okay, you don’t have to like everyone but to dismiss their efforts out of hand because you don’t like it?  That’s revolting and it says more about you than the performer or performance you are denigrating.

Don’t do it, period.

I suppose what I’m saying is this, burlesque is a lot of things to a lot of people.  To me what appeals is the subversive element of burlesque, watching you, watching me, knowing I know you know etc, playing with archetypes, subverting tropes and challenging perception but if I were to decry everything else as ‘not burlesque’ I would be missing out on a startling array of performances and performers.  I would be poorer for it.  Our community is the same, the more we exclude the poorer we get.  So next time you feel those words fighting for space on your tongue, swallow them, HARD. Replace them with something constructive and share your passion instead of denigrating someone else’s.

*This definition was taken from the Oxford English Dictionary Online.

**Wikipedia, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Burlesque_(film)

SlutWalk 2012 - The Messy Issue of Consent

Content and language warning.

I recently came across this post regarding Melbourne SlutWalk 2012 from a friend on facebook:

"SlutWalk: I have no desire to "reclaim the word" but like many women I have had liberties taken with my person and am no stranger to coercion, violence, victim-blaming, shame, silence. I'm marching on Saturday. You should too."

This got me thinking about sexual assault and sexual violence and the attitudes with which it is perpetrated in our society.

I have often been asked what attracts me to the fetish scene and in part I think it is the black and white notions of consent within the community at large.  I am not saying sexual violence isn't perpetrated in the community that would be a ridiculously naive assertion, however, because of the risks inherent in some kinds of play consent is a very serious issue.  Consent is given in an unequivocal way prior to any play commencing. This is a great way of heading off the old epigram that 'all sex is rape until proven otherwise'.

I have attended fetish events across two continents and they are the safest I have ever felt on a night out.  I would not think twice about entering a fetish event by myself, would I do that in an ordinary club? No way.

The rules at Hellfire in Sydney very quickly illustrate why this is the case:

"Top 6 Ways to Ruin Your Night at Hellfire
1) Touch anyone without express permission and we throw you out.
2) Insult anyone about their appearance or kink and we throw you out. This is a place that celebrates all ages, shapes, sizes and sexualities.
3) If you’re a guy DON’T HIT ON WOMEN. Let them approach you. Many women are lesbians. Many are not interested. If we get complaints about men being too predatory, we throw you out." (This rule works in reverse too)

These are only the first three rules at Hellfire (and there are close variations at every event I've ever been to) but boy do they make a difference, of all the various events I have attended, fetish and otherwise, it is only at fetish events that I have never had someone try and take liberties with me. An incident  at the London event 'Subversion' illustrates this better than I think anything else could;

On this particular night I was recovering from a cold and my corset was too tight, combined with the heat from the playroom I soon began to feel quite unwell.  My boyfriend who was with me steered me out into the bar area and while I was cooling off he went to fetch me a drink.  Moments later I was half passed out on a bench from heat and constriction.
Dangerous?  In a regular club certainly, I would have been lucky to come out unfondled.  At this event I was shaken awake by a transexual I'd met earlier in the night.  She sat with me until she was sure I was going to be fit to get to the bathroom and loosen my corset.  She also went to the bar to let my boyfriend know where I'd gone when I raced off to the bathroom to unlace my corset.
In a regular club I would have left as soon as I began to feel compromised, whether from heat, alcohol or illness.  At this event I was not only did I not feel the need to escape I was looked after by a total stranger.

Futhermore, to de-bunk the slut-shaming mythology of 'dressed for consent' as a general rule I have far less on at these events than I do on a regular night out.  It doesn't matter, if consent is not expressly given; hands off.

Conversely, nearly everytime I have been out to a 'regular' nightclub I have had to fend off unwelcome advances, often physical, often more than once, from people (usually men) who seem to think my mere presence in a nightclub is an act of consent.  This is a dangerous attitude and one that I find deeply disturbing. 

During my first year at university I read an amazing book 'How Dangerous Men Think: and how to stay safe for life' the mentalities detailed in this book of men who were being prosecuted for 'date rape' (in itself a loaded term) seem alarmingly prevalent in people who make repeated, unwelcome, physical advances in nightclubs.

Recently on a night out I was assaulted standing in an audience.  I am going to continue using the term assaulted despite the fact the act could also be termed 'tickling', it was unwlecome and perpetrated on my person without consent, as such it is still an assault.

I was watching a friend on mine perform in Drag Idol, I was in a well known gay bar and as such I'd made a not entirely unreasonable assumption that I'd be safe from unwelcome male advances for the most part.  I was also in a large group of women, the majority of us giving off decidely uninterested signals.  All was going well and we were being left alone.
Then the show started, we headed down into the audience to watch.  I felt something brush my leg, it happens in a crowd, I brushed my hand over the back of my leg to let whoever it was know I'd felt it and they might like to back off a little.  It happened again.  Now I was getting annoyed, this time I swatted whoever it was and heard someone behind behind me say 'Ow'.
You'd think that would be the end of it, clearly consent was not given, but no.  It happened again, this time the assualt was a 'tickling' gesture at the top of my thigh as the bloke behind me tried to slide his finger up the back of my shorts.
That was it, I turned on the guy behind me and put my fist under his nose, he was grinning at me, I felt violated.  How dare this person conside that they could take advantage of the closeness and anonymity of the crowd to 'cop a feel' (yet another term for sexual assault).  I believe I said something along the lines of Don't touch me again'. Quite clearly I was upset, his response?  He laughed.  How ever I am not a shinking violet, I leant in closer and followed up with 'I'm not kidding, you come near me again and I'll break your f*cking fingers'.  Now he backs off.
I'm sure his justification was some purile version of 'she was dressed for it' but I don't care.  I was dressed for myself, not for him or anyone else.  Short shorts, tight jeans, skirts, fishnets etc DO NOT equal consent, EVER.

This was a minor incident, yes, but what worries me is the plethora of people out there who don't recognise these behaviours for what they are.  An insidious assault on another person, intiating contact with another person after it has been made clear that, that contact is unwelcome, or more worryingly treating it like a joke, something to be laughed off. Anyone who laughs after perpetrating a sexual assault scares me.