I've been accepted to an arts residency with CELLspace in San Francisco for 3 months mid-year to look at love, relationships, gender, and sexuality from the perspective of a female queer migrant minority, through performance art and other mediums. Originally I was booked for August till October, mostly to make BurlyConand Kaleidoscope Cabaret (for burlesque performers from minority backgrounds), but then this REALLY AMAZING TOTALLY PERFECT opportunity to submit to This Is What I Want came from Jiz Lee (who is the Creatrix of Queer Porn Awesome) and now I might move it to mid-June. Besides that, I've also been offered internships & volunteer opportunities with Femina Potens and the Center for Sex and Culture, amongst other places, and there's always an event or two happening that could use some extra help.
Either way though, I need your help. Besides doing all sorts of odd jobs and saving money, I'm also crowdfunding for $5000 to get to my residency: $2000 for airfare and $3000 to cover residency fees ($650 a month for 3 months) and living costs. Any more will help me explore more awesome events (like Burning Man!!!) and improve my creative & performance skills to create even better, more insightful, personal work.
Contribute to my fund, hire me, sponsor me, write up about me on your blogs and newsletters, send me your frequent flyer miles - any and all help is greatly appreciated!
I've been so busy being Tiara the Merch Girl for the past year and a half that this blog hasn't necessarily been as updated as I hoped it would be. It's been a grand crazy adventure, with trips and romances and performances and drama, and here's another part of the journey!
I am one of 10 Queensland competitors for the first ever Miss Burlesque Australia competition - half pageant, half talent show. We will present a Traditional and a Neo-Burlesque piece each, as well as a Unique piece if we're in the Top 4, as well as parade in Eveningwear and Lingerie. (don't worry, mine's pretty tasteful!) It's organised by Jac Bowie International, who also does the Burlesque Ball - the birth of the Merch Girl!
I rather stand out from the other QLD contestants not just in terms of background or looks (I'm the only Asian person competing) but also because my performance style is a lot more overtly political and raw compared to the classic glam that the other girls are great with. Still, it makes for a great opportunity to promote diverse performance art and experimental burlesque to the most mainstream audience I'll get.
Join Team MerchGirl and check out how you can support me - from sponsorships to shoutouts to messages of encouragement! I'm deeply grateful for all the help I've received, you all have assisted SO MUCH.
Catch me, and the 9 other Queensland contestants, at:
Miss Burlesque Australia - Queensland Heats 10th July 2010, starts 6pm The Old Museum, Bowen Hills
Always use the word ‘Africa’ or ‘Darkness’ or ‘Safari’ in your title. Subtitles may include the words ‘Zanzibar’, ‘Masai’, ‘Zulu’, ‘Zambezi’, ‘Congo’, ‘Nile’, ‘Big’, ‘Sky’, ‘Shadow’, ‘Drum’, ‘Sun’ or ‘Bygone’. Also useful are words such as ‘Guerrillas’, ‘Timeless’, ‘Primordial’ and ‘Tribal’. Note that ‘People’ means Africans who are not black, while ‘The People’ means black Africans.
Never have a picture of a well-adjusted African on the cover of your book, or in it, unless that African has won the Nobel Prize. An AK-47, prominent ribs, naked breasts: use these. If you must include an African, make sure you get one in Masai or Zulu or Dogon dress.
In your text, treat Africa as if it were one country. It is hot and dusty with rolling grasslands and huge herds of animals and tall, thin people who are starving. Or it is hot and steamy with very short people who eat primates. Don’t get bogged down with precise descriptions. Africa is big: fifty-four countries, 900 million people who are too busy starving and dying and warring and emigrating to read your book. The continent is full of deserts, jungles, highlands, savannahs and many other things, but your reader doesn’t care about all that, so keep your descriptions romantic and evocative and unparticular.
Make sure you show how Africans have music and rhythm deep in their souls, and eat things no other humans eat. Do not mention rice and beef and wheat; monkey-brain is an African’s cuisine of choice, along with goat, snake, worms and grubs and all manner of game meat. Make sure you show that you are able to eat such food without flinching, and describe how you learn to enjoy it—because you care.
Taboo subjects: ordinary domestic scenes, love between Africans (unless a death is involved), references to African writers or intellectuals, mention of school-going children who are not suffering from yaws or Ebola fever or female genital mutilation.
Throughout the book, adopt a sotto voice, in conspiracy with the reader, and a sad I-expected-so-much tone. Establish early on that your liberalism is impeccable, and mention near the beginning how much you love Africa, how you fell in love with the place and can’t live without her. Africa is the only continent you can love—take advantage of this. If you are a man, thrust yourself into her warm virgin forests. If you are a woman, treat Africa as a man who wears a bush jacket and disappears off into the sunset. Africa is to be pitied, worshipped or dominated. Whichever angle you take, be sure to leave the strong impression that without your intervention and your important book, Africa is doomed.
Your African characters may include naked warriors, loyal servants, diviners and seers, ancient wise men living in hermitic splendour. Or corrupt politicians, inept polygamous travel-guides, and prostitutes you have slept with. The Loyal Servant always behaves like a seven-year-old and needs a firm hand; he is scared of snakes, good with children, and always involving you in his complex domestic dramas. The Ancient Wise Man always comes from a noble tribe (not the money-grubbing tribes like the Gikuyu, the Igbo or the Shona). He has rheumy eyes and is close to the Earth. The Modern African is a fat man who steals and works in the visa office, refusing to give work permits to qualified Westerners who really care about Africa. He is an enemy of development, always using his government job to make it difficult for pragmatic and good-hearted expats to set up NGOs or Legal Conservation Areas. Or he is an Oxford-educated intellectual turned serial-killing politician in a Savile Row suit. He is a cannibal who likes Cristal champagne, and his mother is a rich witch-doctor who really runs the country.
Among your characters you must always include The Starving African, who wanders the refugee camp nearly naked, and waits for the benevolence of the West. Her children have flies on their eyelids and pot bellies, and her breasts are flat and empty. She must look utterly helpless. She can have no past, no history; such diversions ruin the dramatic moment. Moans are good. She must never say anything about herself in the dialogue except to speak of her (unspeakable) suffering. Also be sure to include a warm and motherly woman who has a rolling laugh and who is concerned for your well-being. Just call her Mama. Her children are all delinquent. These characters should buzz around your main hero, making him look good. Your hero can teach them, bathe them, feed them; he carries lots of babies and has seen Death. Your hero is you (if reportage), or a beautiful, tragic international celebrity/aristocrat who now cares for animals (if fiction).
Bad Western characters may include children of Tory cabinet ministers, Afrikaners, employees of the World Bank. When talking about exploitation by foreigners mention the Chinese and Indian traders. Blame the West for Africa’s situation. But do not be too specific.
Broad brushstrokes throughout are good. Avoid having the African characters laugh, or struggle to educate their kids, or just make do in mundane circumstances. Have them illuminate something about Europe or America in Africa. African characters should be colourful, exotic, larger than life—but empty inside, with no dialogue, no conflicts or resolutions in their stories, no depth or quirks to confuse the cause.
Describe, in detail, naked breasts (young, old, conservative, recently raped, big, small) or mutilated genitals, or enhanced genitals. Or any kind of genitals. And dead bodies. Or, better, naked dead bodies. And especially rotting naked dead bodies. Remember, any work you submit in which people look filthy and miserable will be referred to as the ‘real Africa’, and you want that on your dust jacket. Do not feel queasy about this: you are trying to help them to get aid from the West. The biggest taboo in writing about Africa is to describe or show dead or suffering white people.
Animals, on the other hand, must be treated as well rounded, complex characters. They speak (or grunt while tossing their manes proudly) and have names, ambitions and desires. They also have family values: see how lions teach their children? Elephants are caring, and are good feminists or dignified patriarchs. So are gorillas. Never, ever say anything negative about an elephant or a gorilla. Elephants may attack people’s property, destroy their crops, and even kill them. Always take the side of the elephant. Big cats have public-school accents. Hyenas are fair game and have vaguely Middle Eastern accents. Any short Africans who live in the jungle or desert may be portrayed with good humour (unless they are in conflict with an elephant or chimpanzee or gorilla, in which case they are pure evil).
After celebrity activists and aid workers, conservationists are Africa’s most important people. Do not offend them. You need them to invite you to their 30,000-acre game ranch or ‘conservation area’, and this is the only way you will get to interview the celebrity activist. Often a book cover with a heroic-looking conservationist on it works magic for sales. Anybody white, tanned and wearing khaki who once had a pet antelope or a farm is a conservationist, one who is preserving Africa’s rich heritage. When interviewing him or her, do not ask how much funding they have; do not ask how much money they make off their game. Never ask how much they pay their employees.
Readers will be put off if you don’t mention the light in Africa. And sunsets, the African sunset is a must. It is always big and red. There is always a big sky. Wide empty spaces and game are critical—Africa is the Land of Wide Empty Spaces. When writing about the plight of flora and fauna, make sure you mention that Africa is overpopulated. When your main character is in a desert or jungle living with indigenous peoples (anybody short) it is okay to mention that Africa has been severely depopulated by Aids and War (use caps).
You’ll also need a nightclub called Tropicana, where mercenaries, evil nouveau riche Africans and prostitutes and guerrillas and expats hang out.
Always end your book with Nelson Mandela saying something about rainbows or renaissances. Because you care.
I’ve just started a project on Kickstarter to raise funds for a couple of basic items – public liability insurance and business name registration. I might be the first non-American (thanks Leah for your help!) – this is very exciting!!
Please help out however you can. Every dollar helps. Thank you so much!
What was originally going to be a proposal for The Edge at the State Library of Queensland to hire me became a somewhat extended CV about getting involved with the Brisbane Creative Industries. (Not just Brisbane either but that’s a starting point.)
Do come by, check it out, and please pass the link on to anyone you feel will benefit. Thanks so much!
That poem by Suheir Hammad rings so true to me. I’m tired of being the “exotic one”, even if I do end up using it a bit to get me over the edge. It’s sad though that I have to use the “exotic” angle to even get a looksee. Treat me as me first and foremost; don’t let my skin colour cloud your eyes.
So I’ve been stuck in a funk the past couple of weeks. I’ve been thinking, why bother trying to perform or be in that world, there’s too much drama and stress and argh.
Then I saw this.
It’s a Slovenian choir, and it’s totally acapella. Down to the rain.
That was honestly one of the most moving and powerful performances I have seen in the past few years. Everyone working together melding beautifully and creating MAGIC. WOW. I’m not sure if this choir is 100% pro or a mix but who cares – it blew me away.
screw drama, screw politics. If I could touch even just one person the way this video touched me, I’ve achieved more than I wanted.
Here’s the video of the Islamic-influenced performance that got me 3rd place and a whole heap of kudos. I’m so glad that it did what I aimed to do – make people wonder about their assumptions.
The effect and response was totally unexpected – honestly I thought people would be bored because I’m not shaking my booty or tassel twirling!! It’s all coming a bit fast and now I feel like I need to do more and come up with more acts to justify the response! But at least I’ve touched someone, which was my goal.
I’ve jumpstarted work on The Merch Girl – I designed a logo, prepared some draft content for the website, and even got some MOO cards printed (both for Merch Girl and TS.com) – they look awesome! There’s been opportunities popping up, such as roving at Woodford and I’d like to get my website up and running – MySpace doesn’t really do all that I want it to do.
The main things stalling this are:
Waiting on people to reply to my requests for edits – there’s a few people who have promised to look over and fix my writing, but I haven’t heard anything from anybody since I moved the content to Google Sites. I’m wondering if I should just have my current content up anyway, then tweak it as time goes by. An acquaintance did say that I could barter some PR skills in return for her designing the website, but she’s been busy and I don’t want to pester her.
A lack of site design – my design skills are stuck in 2001 and I don’t want to suffer The Merch Girl with something really awful. However, due to my current inability to find a job (rejections everywhere!), most of the money going towards living expenses and permanent residency, I don’t really have enough to pay designers what they’re truly worth. I just learnt that even saying “I don’t have a budget for this” is offensive to some designers – I don’t mean to hurt! I’m waiting for my Ruddbucks to show up so that I can use the money towards TMG.
No idea how to price myself – the people I’m targeted would generally be hard up for money. Not so hard that they can’t even get food or anything; they’ll generally be able to pay a fee, but not a great deal. I don’t want to price myself out of anyone’s budget (especially if I’m gunning for community, emerging, and small/medium-scale productions) but I do have to at least cover the costs of training, equipment, travel, and so on. I’ll like to hire the services of BAKERY – who consult on creative businesses – but again, I’m waiting on stimulus money to do this.
Should I just pop something up anyway? Even if it looks 10 years out of date? Could I hire people for services and then say “payment coming after 16th May” (last day of stimulus payment)? There’s the risk that I might not be qualified for the stimulus money because of some condition or other. What do I do?
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Aside from merch girling, I’ve been back into performance. Our circus classes have ended for the term – they start up again in mid May but I’ll be back in Malaysia by then. I will be participating in a community workshop in a week so I’ll still be involved somehow. It’s really weird going from 2 nights of 2-3 hours intense training to not much though; I really miss it!
I’ve also started burlesque classes again. Lene’s a star, she doesn’t mind me freeloading!! (I think I owe them over $500 or something now.) We start off with a routine based on Cell Block Tango (from Chicago) and it is AWESOMESAUCE. It’s strong and assertive and powerful and WOW. My classmate/dear friend Adam just had a bad few weeks and he’s channelling his rage into this dance…it’s a bit scary to see him actually!! But I LOVELOVELOVE this routine, it’s my favourite out of the ones we’ve learnt; it’s great for silly drama queens (like myself) and we can ham it up or play it down as we wish. So much theatre.
I’ve been doing a lot of improv too – I don’t give this as much credit as I should given that I perform this more regularly than the others sometimes! I took a class with EDGE Improv and anyone who’s done at least one class can jump in to their regular shows at Kitty o’Sheas in Caxton St. I’ve mainly been doing short-form – their current series is based on TV shows so I and some others have been doing “ad breaks”. It’s really silly, we work off a random item and sing or be surreal or do interviews. I’ll be doing my first longform tomorrow, as one of the housemates in a Friends-like short. It’s a bit scary, as I’ve never done longform before (never trained for it even) but our group is so supportive and helpful and it’s gonna be a good try at least.
I love performing. I wish I had other things to do besides waiting for chances to perform and being rejected for jobs. Hmm.
I recently observed a very interesting discussion on the economics of theatre, using the thesis that the theatre world needs to be less self-centred when it comes to funding as the Average Joe may not relate to the “WE MUSTSUPPORTTHEARTS” point of view, especially when they’re struggling to make ends meet.
While the discussion was primarily America-centric, I see similar debates happening around the world. This was actually the topic of my first assignment at university – about how Australian theatre is struggling to survive and how it needs to adopt models from outside the art world to sustain itself. There are already a lot of organisations that are shutting down or have shut down because they lost Government funding. This startles me – the idea that the loss of one funder can make the difference in your survival.
Go find a nurse and ask her about her day. Or go read “Mountains Beyond Mountains“. Or go have a chat with a social worker advising single mothers, or a middle school teacher trying to teach students who can’t read. Then come tell me our new president should spend a million dollars on dance tours instead of any of those other things.
Indeed, according to Chicago-based theater artist Jay Rasolnikov, no one really cares:
No one really cares about why an artist deserves money except for those in the arts. Really no one does. A factory worker who’s out of a job and about to lose his or her home couldn’t care less about artists getting handouts. Someone trying to get buy on minimum wage working a series of shit jobs probably has very little sympathy for artists also scraping by.
As Theatre Idea‘s Scott Walters points out (using Johnny Bunko), it’s not about you – and indeed, there’s a value to art that artists themselves may not realise:
For much of art history, artists considered themselves to be craftsmen doing a job; many didn’t sign their work. They knew it wasn’t about them. Artistically, as Pink writes, they “give their client something it didn’t know it was missing.” They give a gift. Which brings us back to Lewis Hyde again, and the difference between a gift economy and a transaction economy. One of the many subtitles Hyde seems to have used for different editions of this book is “How the Creative Spirit Transforms the World.” The artist is the conduit, the vessel for the creative spirit. The artist is a midwife that brings into existence a new life.
This is something I struggle with currently as a performance trainee (and in the recent past while applying for the KaosPilots). My work isn’t directly applied or educational or world-changing. I do it because it gives me happiness. It’s an outlet for my silly creativity. It gives me access to a whole bunch of smart, friendly, open, loving people who have welcomed me wholeheartedly into their world. (<3 Scoundrelles and Vulcana!). It lets me fulfill some long-held wishes (I just managed a few handstands on Monday!).
But it’s not solving world poverty or global warming. It’s not going to make a difference in a life-or-death situation. Circus may be gaining respectability (even if too many people assume I’m working as a clown or with animals, neither of which are true) but burlesque is still fraught in many places with controversy over its sex world connections and its respectability. Why should people care that I’m training in circus and burlesque? What’s in it for them – bendy bodies?
Yet without some sort of funding – financially, in-kind, free lessons, room & board, whatever – I won’t be able to sustain myself enough to keep on performing. Life doesn’t come cheap. I feel like I’m caught in a Catch-22 described by Nick in another Chris Ashworth post:
Xan’s argument is that the public expects the arts to do something before it’s willing to fund it, but the arts can’t actually do anything without the money first because of the overhead of putting something together. … People don’t want to pay for a product they haven’t seen, but the product can’t be created with the capital first.
It’s the WIIFM conundrum – What’s In It For Me? . As it is, I grew up in a culture where the only good “self” to be is selfless. Any form of self-enrichment or self-improvement, especially in contemporary arts, is seen as selfish, self-centered, self-indulgent. You live for your community; you do what other people need you to do. There’s no way I’ll get any sort of capital support in Malaysia unless I severely compromise on what I do.
I’ve been looking at grants to support myself (after sifting through tons of “Citizen/PR only” and “No individuals accepted” opportunities, which make me lose out on majorly awesome opportunities like this Australia Council production mentorship – waah!) and almost all of them require some sort of statement on why you should get the grant. What’s so good about you that they should support you. What sort of benefit you bring.
Uh, I’m the only South Asian in Brisbane doing burlesque, so I can inspire other South Asians? What I’m doing isn’t necessarily accepted within similar cultures to mine, and I don’t want to be known as the token Asian or the token “coloured” person.
I am a totally unsporty person jumping into acrobatics? Would it be cheating if I showed my other previous classes, which took some measure of fitness?
I am linking cultures by being a foreigner? It’d help if I actually planned to relocate to Malaysia anything soon without them banning me from the stage for life. And again, tokenism.
I don’t want to turn my work into some overthought plate-of-academic-wanker-beans, but how else do I justify my existence?
So what are the solutions? Does it involve rethinking theatre as a form? Providing funding for universal healthcare and/or education and welfare, so that people don’t have to worry about paying for their living costs and fulfilling the base rung of Maslow’s Hierarchy? What is it?
Does it involve changing public assumptions that artists must work for the love of it and any acceptance of money is “selling out”? That you need to “pay your dues” before getting any back? That we do provide a service – of creativity and passion?
For most of my life I was very mind-centric. I was one of those people that pretty much lived in my head. I read a lot (still do), had an active imagination (still do), and wanted nothing more than to learn, learn, learn (still do).
I was hopeless with sports, or anything to do with my body. I couldn’t run, throw a ball, catch a ball. I did badminton and swimming for a while at school but was never great at it. I wanted to do gymnastics but was too big and too scared. I only climbed a tree once. Whenever I was the slightest bit ill, I was rushed to the doctors. And who gives a damn about personal appearance? No one ever looks at me anyway. Not like I was interested in attracting anyone – I was an asexual who couldn’t really see the point in sex. Too messy.
My soul was just slightly better. I grew up in an Islamic environment, taking Islamic classes for my entire schooling life. I’ve gone from clueless to pious to pious in a different way to non-religious to doubtful to searching, and possibly many ways around yet. I’m pretty sure of what I believe and how I express that belief; it’s more labels that confound me.
My heart just tended to be broken. I had no concept of romance or courtship; even as a teenager the closest I had to a relationship were long-standing crushes on people and spending a night with a Savage Garden poster in my arms. (My mum’s remark on her seeing me like this: “I think you’re ready for boys now.” None came for about 8 years.) I had very awkward interpersonal connections; friends didn’t come easily for me, and I was more often betrayed and outcasted than welcomed and accepted.
My body, soul, and heart floundered. But my mind – oh, that was very very strong. It was the only thing that mattered. I placed pride in how much I knew, how smart I was, how deeply I thought. I wasn’t one for academics and grades because I didn’t find most of the work challenging or engaging. I yearned for things that awoke my brain, got me thinking, sparked my neurons.
Of course, it wasn’t long before my neurons eventually fried. A lot of stress beginning at childhood led to full-blown anxiety and depression at 17, partly caused by misfiring neurons. My mind became both my escape to and escape from. I thrived in my head and was also trapped within it.
The next few years after that were a crazy mix of challenges to all my aspects – not just my mind. I moved around the country and around the world, challenging my physical endurance. I explored different spiritualities and questioned a lot of my previous beliefs. I gained the courage to actually make the first move in relationships – though I still didn’t get lucky with anybody.
When I moved to Australia, I slowly found my focus and center moving away from my mind. It was still important, but it didn’t quite hold as central a role as before. My heart finally found satisfaction in Mark , and my body flourished in its new dimension – what asexuality? As it is, it was getting more exercise than ever. My soul found expression in service, working hard to find ways to help other people.
Now I find myself more body-centered. I’m training in circus and burlesque three days a week, seven-and-a-half hours all up, and while I’m still not a champion sportsperson I am a great deal fitter and flexible than I ever was. I still don’t give a damn about fashion and trends, but I have gained a strong appreciation for costuming and creative styling. I’m fascinated by expressions and experiences of sexuality – not just in the raw sense, but as combined with psychology and creativity and culture and society. I move more. I flow more.
My spirit’s shifted its mode of focus; while there is still an interest in making a difference, it is a tad more academic. My heart is still strong with Mark but it has also expanded in its understanding of itself.
As for my mind? It’s funny; I don’t feel quite as sharp mentally as I used to. Not so much “oh goodness I feel stupid”, but I haven’t had quite the same mental challenges as I used to. No trivia questions or MENSA tests. Now it’s more about creating, about expressing the mind through the body. Focusing on moves and poses, clearing the mind when possible. Learning, but also doing.
I’m still a voracious reader and I still spend too much time online. But I don’t feel quite as lost in my head as I used to.
I didn’t make February’s in time so here’s my dreamboard for March!
I wanted something starry and fantasy-esque for the background. It took me a while to look through wallpaper sites before I found this one. It’s quite pretty!
There are two main things here: performance creativity and financial freedom.
I’m getting more involved in burlesque performance – I performed with my classmates in the RaGTaG Revue, and yesterday I did my first solo (well, a trial run anyway) for our school’s Open Day type thing (to rave reviews from my burlesque teacher – which is a massive compliment!!). I’ve also been volunteering at the Burlesque Ball, which is where the photo (of Vivi Valentine) is from. I really enjoy the experience – it’s creative, crazy, individualised, and everyone supports each other. And it’s FUN! Which is something I need more of in my life right now. Barbara Sher once said that what you love is what you’re gifted in – apparently I’m now gifted in being a burlesque ham. Hmm. we’ll see about that!
To achieve this, I need to gain a measure of financial freedom. Right now I’m mostly supported by my parents, while doing part-time or casual jobs on the side. While this does mean I don’t have to worry about rent or living, it does mean that I am beholden to them to not do anything too outrageous. They’re currently working under the model that they “allow” me to do things – when really I’m trying to wrest my independence away from them. (I’m sure they’ll comment here and protest!) I’ve been applying for jobs, and I’ve just started The Merch Girl , my burlesque+merch girl/ASM/stage help service venture. I’m also looking for grants I could use for professional development. Hopefully this year will be the first year I’m self-sustainable!
There’s also a WishCasting (somewhat belated) attached to this:
What do you wish to change?
I wish to change my source of income to be more financially free.
This past weekend I’ve been working at the Burlesque Ball as the resident Merch Girl:
There was every style of burlesque there – from graceful pink & purple electronica (Vivi Valentine) to Josephine Baker’s banana skirts (Kelly Ann Doll), French alcohol-laced cabaret (Lauren LaRouge) to a naughty Scarlett o’Harra (my Scoundrelles teacher Lena Marlene), and of course the Headline (Amber Ray from New York) and the Joker (the MC, Cameron ‘HotAugust’ Knight). All photos below by Darcy Papparazzi and Christine Bowley:
As an aside, can I say that I really LOVE this picture of Lena and Alyssa that Darcy took on the first night:
It absolutely shows just how much of a punk my burlesque teacher really is. Her corset that night (a friend’s) was one of the few which wasn’t black or red – it was all pastelly but had a SPIDER. And a black tutu. She spent both days running around rambling like a hyper madwoman, advocating for edgy grotesque rock burlesque, singing cheesy songs, and taking the blame for corrupting me. I <3 her.
As Merch Girl, I mainly sold Amber Ray’s flower fascinators – which are PRETTY!!! – and some programs. A few people thought the flowers were mine (I wish) and one person tried to buy my tickler! Amber was our headliner and she’s a fab lovely person – she gave me a few fascinators of my own as a thank-you :D You can get them at her Etsy store too.
[I’ve been asked to take down my personal review of the Ball for the time being. It wasn’t very in-depth; just a comparison of the two days since they were quite different. Essentially: up and down, very different atmosphere between the two, the show was awesome once I got to see it, performers = lovely, nice audience members are lovely but PLEASE be nice to your Merch Girl, thanks. a.k.a. if you’re disgruntled, yelling at her multiple times will not change her superpowers. It’ll just want to make her poke you with her tickler. But all the really lovely audience members and performers and people who came up to chat & supported me totally made up for the couple of goons.]
At one point in the Sunday show they had a fan-dancing competition. I got charged with nerve and energy and jumped up at the very last minute (after trying to find someone to manage the Merch booth for a few minutes). I don’t have a photo of me fan-dancing at the moment but if I find one I’ll post it here.
Anyway, just before my turn, I was announced by Cameron to the crowd as:
THEMERCHGIRL!!!!!
and the name stuck. Even Lena calls me that now. I think I just found my burlesque name.
I looked up “Merch Girl” on Google just to see if anyone else is using it as a stage name, and I was surprised to see that merch girls are something of a subcultural icon amongst indie/scene people. Sara & Tegan fans absolutely lovetheir Merch Girls, they have their own catchphrases and getting a Merch Goal is a goal on Guitar Hero . The only people I found who make Merch-Girling a trademark (and possibly an arts project) are Bam Bam and Vi who promote themselves as Merch Girls that do things “better and sexier”, and also run their own shows and make their own merch. They haven’t updated their website since 2004 though so I don’t know if they’re still around.
I could base an act/persona around The Merch Girl. She’s bubbly, friendly, gives you compliments, and takes care of your merchandise. She gives directions to those that are lost and holds your cloaks for you while you watch the show. She occasionally tries the merch on, puts on some music, and dances around (and over the counter). She wears multiple layers of red and black, including a tiara or a flower in her hair. She holds a tickler to poke people who annoy her, and she’s not afraid to speak up to rabble-rousers and jerks. She’s not pushy but is not shy either. She’s flamboyant and over-the-top, yet also approachable and down-to-earth.
She’s also practical and helpful with the actual merch-selling side of things. She sets up before the show, takes care of the merch, and packs up after. She is willing to be one of the last people to leave the venue and one of the first to arrive. She protects your merch from bubbles, booze, and bastards. She takes inventory and gives you reports on your earnings. She makes signs and arranges items to show them off in their best light. She stops thieves and freeloaders. She loves the merch, she loves the audience, she loves the show, she loves you.
The Merch Girl would work at performance events – burlesque, theatre, concerts, parties, openings, launches, festivals, and so on. The people at her shows are funky, alternative, label-busting, fun, friendly, kind, chatty, open, creative. She would go on tour and do double duty as a roadie, assistant, or stage manager. She wouldn’t be just a random staff member; she’d be a part of the show, adding to the atmosphere. She’s all about the experience – your experience.
To do this, I’ll need:
Some costumes – I’ve got a few pieces, though I gather that my costuming would depend on the event
Contacts for events that need a Merch Girl
Work on my Merch Girl persona – especially audience interaction and dealing with downtimes
I’d do it voluntarily at first, perhaps for smaller events and gigs. Sliding-scale according to how much they can afford me (up to $20/hour, which is a typical going rate for entry-level part-time jobs). Then for bigger events (e.g. corporates or mainstream big-name acts) I would charge a lot more – say $40 or $50/hour, more if it’s multiple days and longer hours. Expenses covered if I need to travel and/or live away from home, as well as to obtain any specialist costuming (though I’ll supply my main props).
I may have enough of a following that people would come to events just because I was there. I could have my own merch. I’d train other people in performance and customer service, making a merry band of Merchants and Merchettes – or Merch Guys and Merch Girls? It would be fun!
The past few days I went on a whim to see San Francisco-based erotic performance artist Vixen Noir at MetroArts in Brisbane. OH MY GOODNESS. Absolutely BLOWNAWAY.
The show was opened by Sunny Drake , a Brisbane & San-Fran-based FTM performance artist whose work deals with gender identity.
His piece, Other-wise, was set as a letter to his parents trying to explain his gender and sexuality, but not wanting to disappoint them. His parents (and the rest of the family, who showed up too) were AWESOME – he told this story about his dad proudly saying “well my daughter is gay and I’m very proud of her” after dealing with a homophobic friend, and about how they’re all still very supportive despite his transitions and issues. I wish my parents were similarly awesome (instead of worrying that I’ve joined a cult!!).
My favourite bit of the show involves Sunny playing Truth or Dare with the voice in his head:
Voice: Truth or Dare? Sunny: Truth! Voice: Are you a girl or a boy? Sunny: No, I’m not any of those things. You see, for me they don’t quite work like that. My gender is CARNIVALESQUEMAGICIAN!
The main star, Vixen Noir came next – and oh my. She is definitely something to behold.
This self-described Black American Princess (more like High Royalty to me) based her show around her raw sexuality, intermingled with stories from her grandmother (who apparently denounced “those things we did” for being Jesus’s soldier). According to her, “I came out of my mother sexually aroused!” She claimed that growing up, she kept connecting everything to sex and was getting quite disturbed by it, but Audre Lorde’s essay Uses of the Erotic: The Erotic as Power helped her realise that there was nothing wrong with her; she was just a sexual being, and she embraced her power.
She went from costume to costume, singing tributes to the power of her ancestors or her favourite things, lauding past lovers and their gifts, joining in with the video of her grandmother talking about her youthful sexual experience (which sometimes got into “that’s just WROOOOOOONG” territory).
At one point she got into dominatrix gear and did a slam poem on her ecstasy from being fisted by a lover. This then led to a long, luxurious, powerful orgasm on stage – which absolutely pwns my attempt at theatrical orgasms!
The ending is a total mindfuck. She strips off her gear till she is standing full nude (wearing only a choker, an armband, and boots). She paints “Fuck” and “Bitch” (or “B4ch” as it looked like) on herself, as well as tribal lines all over her body. On the screen her grandma pops up singing a Jesus hymn, and she joins in. Naked, semi-dominatrix gear, swear words on her, singing praises for Jesus. Crazy.
That evening I found out she had a shorter version of her Unleash Your Fire workshop the next night, which aims to empower women in their “erotic power” through performance. I was quite in awe of her performing style – burlesque, spoken word, slam poetry, music, dancing, singing. A mix of the things I like to do! I actually had a musical improv workshop booked at the same time, but when a prior appointment finished later than expected I decided to check Vixen Noir’s workshop out.
It was a small group of women, all with their own quirks of gender and sexual identity. I can’t really reveal what exactly went down in the workshop (we agreed on confidentiality) but it basically involved frank discussions about yourself and your ideas and experiences with the erotic, and linking that to a performance piece. I got to know one girl, Maddy, who was pretty cool (and damn hot!!) – she just came back from spending her finding-herself 20s in Germany, and I felt like I was in her position, being in a foreign country to rediscover myself. Out of everyone in the workshop (who were all pretty cool themselves) I’d like to get in touch with her more.
I was more “performancy” than erotic – I just rejoined my burlesque classes that morning, and was in a showgirl mood! Mine was more hammy than raw, but it was definitely more out-there than a lot of performance things I’ve done. Some of the others really put themselves out there with their performances – it made me wish I had dared to strip off or do something quite as crazy! (For what it’s worth, Vixen Noir thought it was hot :P)
Part of the workshop involved imagining yourself as 80, having lived a life full of your erotic and sexual power, and writing a letter to your current self about how life is and what they need to do. I couldn’t really picture myself as an 80-year-old, so I just pictured some random Tina-turner lookalike with my short hair laughing her head off. She seemed pretty cheerful. What surprised me was the inclusion of kids and grandkids – I’ve never really thought of myself as a mother. I’d suck at mothering. But in my vision I was surrounded by a HUGE family, made up of relatives and friends that bring me power, and whom I’ve empowered too. Other young women who have been granted the courage to do their own thing and fly.
I wonder if my 80s will be that hilarious!
This year onwards seem like my chance to break away from obligations and figure out what my boundaries are by testing them. I am freaking people out, but at the same time I’m learning a lot about myself. What sort of person will I end up as next year or soon after?
Hello to everyone who’ve come here from Havi! Good to meet you all :) I’ve had a few people ask me about the circus program I’m doing, so here’s an overview:
Vulcana Women’s Circus is a Brisbane-based circus performance and training group. Vulcana, and circus in Australia in general, is closely linked to physical theatre and is more about using the body for expression – think “Cirque du Soleil”, not necessarily “big top and elephants”. The group organises regular performances (whether for themselves or as part of a bigger event), runs workshops and classes, and works with communities to develop their performance piece.
This year’s Artsworker program is to train potential circus artsworkers and trainers. There are three components to this:
Circus Training
For the rest of the year we get to do free classes at Vulcana. (They run 6-week classes per term for the general public.) I’m doing Circus Essentials, which is Circus 101, and Circus Fit which is more about physical fitness and how your body works. There’s also more advanced classes on groundwork (handstands, tumbling, acro-balance) and aerials (not so much large trapezes, but things like hoops, tissu, hanging off ropes, etc), as well as occasional workshops on side skills like dance, hula hooping, stilts, juggling, etc – some of those get covered in the Essentials class. The idea is to get enough skill and experience to be able to teach others or assist others in circus work.
Community Workshops
Currently Vulcana have a weekly circus workshop at New Farm Park, which is next door to their base (the Brisbane Powerhouse). The workshops are for kids and families to pick up basic circus skills. Trainees like us will get involved in one or more workshops, and either observe the experienced trainer or assist her with teaching. We’ll get paid the trainee rate for this work.
Outreach
Vulcana’s currently running two community projects – a stilts/hip-hop dance performance for Indigenous children to be performed for a City Council event with the Lord Mayor, and a roving procession performance for migrant East Africans. The projects help the participants find something useful and fun to do, builds community togetherness, and allows them to express themselves through performance. We’ll be going out there and assisting with the community projects.
I’m not entirely sure how skilled I’ll be performance-wise – I’m still developing my skills with the basics, but probably not enough to move up to a full-fledged trainer status. I am quite excited about the workshops and outreach work because I find that aspect quite meaningful and fulfilling. Give young people a sense of wonder and power! I’m also looking out for opportunities to develop my skills in the management and development side of it – artistic direction, choreography, arts marketing, creating connections, and so on. Maybe i’ll end up as an office intern! :)
I’ll have to pause twice in my training year – from end of March to who knows when to transition between visas, and in mid-July for my sister’s wedding. So far I’m quite enjoying my training; it feels good and I’m energised and engaged. Apparently the last time Vulcana ran such a program they started with about 5-6 and ended up with 1. I’d like to stay on longer!
BTW, Vulcana’s hiring for an Artistic Director:
Vulcana Women’s Circus is currently seeking a new Artistic Director. The successful applicant will have experience programming and directing theatre-based projects and a passion for the development of innovative community-based circus theatre in Brisbane. The position is negotiable part-time (22-30 hours) and working times are flexible.
Vulcana inspires and celebrates women, young people and communities through the teaching and performance or contemporary circus arts.
Please visit www.vulcana.org.au, email admin@vulcana.org.au, or call 07 3358 1888 for more information.
Applications close 31 March.
i don’t think there’s a country limit – artistic directors are known to travel. But anyway, if you’re interested, apply :)
Dad’s sending over the papers needed to file a claim for a Malaysian Good Conduct letter (police clearance), which means that I’m all good to apply for my Graduate Skilled Visa. This means that I’m very likely to spend the next 18+ months in Australia working on my circus dreams. Yay!
I figured that since I may spend part of the year overseas anyhoo (the time between my student visa expires and this new visa is issued, also my sister’s wedding in July) I may as well start training now. I’m perfectly happy to extend my training to beyond a year to make up for lost time. Vulcana was cool with it, huzzah.
I started circus training yesterday. Essentially this involves showing up for Vulcana’s classes , and there’s more that I’ll find out on Thursday. Classes go for 6 weeks at a time, then have a break, then start again. I rejoined Circus Essentials, the basic 101 class – I’ve taken it before but need to brush up on my skills. I’m still choppy on handstands and tumbling forwards, but I apparently found sideways rolls so easy that I just rolled off across the mat until I got dizzy. Ha.
I did notice that my focus got a lot better. Usually when exercising my mind is still all over the place. Here I was able to focus better on what I’m doing in the moment. I was also able to recover better from setbacks. I just need more practice!
I didn’t eat well yesterday – I was rushing from thing to thing and only managed a small spinach & feta roll for lunch. I only made the decision to join circus training yesterday, and by that point it was too late to prepare dinner. Bad idea – my thighs cramped during an acro-balance pose and I got really nauseous! Lying down with my feet propped in a chair, drinking water and having some fruit helped a lot. The pain went immediately after I stopped the pose; it was more an issue of lack of energy. Lesson learnt!
I did get an incredible rush of endorphins after class though. People always talk about it and I never had that experience until yesterday! Awesome! I felt very calm and collected and at peace. I also didn’t feel as excruciatingly tired today as I normally do when starting a new class or workout – perhaps the burlesque classes just before helped me limber up so it wasn’t such a shock. Exercise feels good, finally!
Learning points from today’s class:
1. EATANDDRINKBEFORECLASS. seriously. High protein, light, not dense, high energy but preferably not processed sugar.
2. Bring some fruit, nuts, healthy snacks (crispbread?? what else?) for class break.
3. Bring bottle of water fortified with Glucolin for extra energy.
4. Work on strengthening leg muscles, especially thighs. Feet also need care.
5. Get over psychological hump of falling forwards – main obstacle for forward tumbles and handstands. You will be fine!
6. Remember Anna’s words – feel a pleasant stretch, not pain. You shouldn’t be in pain.
I’m likely going to Circus Fit today – it’s less about circus skills and more about exercises that deal with circus folk. I’d like to get some ideas on exercises I could do daily to keep myself limber and fit. Perhaps yoga? I suck at running, but I like stretching, so yoga could work.
I’ve also been asked to come back to burlesque classes. I haven’t officially signed on, because I may not be around for the last two weeks and I didn’t want to pay all that money just to miss out on a third of the class. My teacher Lena said “come anyway, you’re a regular!”. I’ll probably come by and ask if I can join in. It’s so much fun and the circus & burlesque complement each other!!
I’ve been applying for jobs to sustain me for the next year. Haven’t heard much either way, but hopefully I’ll have enough to continue my training and self-development. I’ve been considering doing a Patron Program on this blog – donate some money towards my training and artistic development and I could send you records on how I was doing, be invited to events, etc. Would that be a good idea?
It’s at The Globe Theatre, Valley (where I did the Vagina Monologues) on Saturday 7th March starting 8pm. My burlesque teachers, The Scoundrelles are going (my specific teacher, Lena Marlene, is performing – she’s awesome) and some other people I know from other circumstances are going too.
Tickets are $69 apiece at the moment, but there’s a group ticket deal where groups of 10 can get tix for $49 each. (Bigger groups could get a better deal, but you need to email Jac Bowie first.) I’m hoping to organise a group to go – $69’s a bit much but I could possibly spring $49 out of my “misc” budget. (Also, I did apply to be their ASM, but I haven’t heard anything either way so I’m not holding my breath.)
I posted it on Twitter and there’s been some response, so I’ll make a blog post about it so that people can note if they’d like to join. My TS.com posts cross-post to Facebook, so hopefully there’ll be some Facebook interest there too, but I’ll tag & share this regardless.
So some time ago I applied for an artsworker position with Vulcana Women’s Circus . The year-long program involves intense training in the circus arts, followed by community arts and outreach work.
I wrote an email to them talking about my lifelong dream to learn circus arts (or at least gymnastics of some sort), how I enjoyed my beginner’s circus class a LOT, how even though I’m not very technically competent I’m willing to learn and I love community work anyhoo. I didn’t expect to get shortlisted even: I figured they’d want someone with more arts and circus experience and ability.
I just got a call from Chae (who trained us in our beginner’s class). She said my application was lovely, and that they want me in their artsworker program!!
OMG!!
I’ve been harbouring a dream to be trained in circus skills (to a competent level) for a year. Intense circus. I wasn’t sure how to make it possible but I wanted it to be made possible. And now it’s coming true!!
Well, maybe. The trick now is dealing with visas. Which could be a bit more complex. Chae’s husband in Dutch so she’s familiar with immigration issues, but this is a slightly different situation.
I’ve looked around and there seems to be two visas that suit my situation well:
1. The Occupational Trainee Visa which allows you to be part of a workplace training program for up to two years in Australia. Pros: Very specifically applies to situations like mine, so shouldn’t be a problem. Employer (Vulcana)‘s willing to help, and they do most of the work (which shouldn’t be too hard). Relatively easy to apply – no need to futz around with skilled occupations or English tests or whatever. Cons: I can’t work elsewhere while doing the training; Vulcana however can only offer casual work at the most, so I’m not sure where I’m going to find money to live on. I could do online work, but again I’m not sure what work I could do online that would help me pay rent and living expenses.
2. The Skilled – Graduate (Temporary) Visa which is especially designed for recent international graduates of Australian universities, to spend 18 months in Australia with no restrictions on work, study, or whatever/ Pros: I can do whatever I want, so I can work part-time or even study part-time if I wished. Longer period, so I can spend some time before/after to rest and travel around. Cons: I have to do all of the legwork. Timing will be an issue – I need to have ALL my paperwork sorted before I can apply. One of them is the IELTS English language test, which I’m only taking at the end of March. (My current visa expires soon after.) I need to nominate something from the Skilled Occupation List which is slightly difficult for my degree – also, I’m not sure whether what I plan to do has to exactly match up with my nominated job (if it doesn’t, this becomes a LOT easier).
I’ve contacted No Borders Migration about it but I haven’t heard anything yet. I’d like to get the Temporary Graduate visa anyway regardless of Vulcana happening; it’s more timing that I’m worried about.
I really hope the visa issues get sorted and that I get to be in this program. It’s my dream come true. Good vibes and energy please!!
Our Vagina Monologues performances were awesome. Nearly packed Thursday, sold out Friday. People from everywhere (mainly through Facebook chains) streaming in wanting to support vaginas. Some men who were skeptical at first but realised that V-Day wasn’t about being anti-men; it was a celebration, a commiseration, and a presentation of the vagina and its place in people’s lives – the hurt and pain, the glory and beauty. Bad and good. Everything.
This is a recording of my monologue, The Woman who Loved to Make Vaginas Happy. It’s about a dominatrix who works exclusively with women after discovering her enjoyment of moans, and how women were really the only people that appreciated them too. We played her as a vagina geek, rather than a sex goddess; she’s still sexy, but she retells her job as more of “my job is awesome!” rather than “I’m here to seduce you”. Possibly NSFW due to a bit of swearing and plenty of moaning.
Even though these monologues are at least ten years old, and even though there have been hundreds of people around the world that have performed these monologues before (and hundreds more that viewed those performances), these monologues feel like they’re ours. Like they were especially written for us. Like they were about us. Like we were there from the day they started writing them to the performance date and beyond.
Only Lesley could be the Angry Vagina, pissed-off at efforts to undermine her coochie!
Only Helen could come up with a ton of Vagina (Not-So)Happy Facts.
Only Jodie could be neurotic enough to go to a Vagina Workshop.
Only Anja could have a Little Coochie Snorcher.
Only Sarah T could have a great experience with Bob.
Only Claire could reclaim “Cunt”.
and then some.
I just heard a snippet of someone else’s version of My Angry Vagina. It doesn’t sound right. It doesn’t have a “sunny Southern accent” (as reported in Time Off), it has “pussy” instead of “coochie”, it doesn’t have smiles interspersed between yells. It’s not quite it.
On the one hand, I feel like I am in solidarity with all the other women, including Eve Ensler, that have performed these monologues and likely can relate to the experience of production and staging. The celebrities, college women, community women, older women, younger women…ok. Sometimes I wish there was a list of performers by monologue, so that we can bond over the experience.
But it’s just not the same. It’s not quite right. The version pure to me is the version performed and directed by the Brisbane Coochie Coup. No one else can capture the heartbreak, sorrow, joy, laughter, silliness, angst, confusion, innocence, cynicism quite like we did.
The Coochie Coup girls came from all sorts of backgrounds and experiences. Some, like me, have never really acted before. Some others are in training to be professional dramatists. Yet we got along swimmingly. No bitchiness, no back-stabbing, no sourness. Just a group of women supportive and cheerful for each other. It’s only been 6 weeks that I’ve known them, and I wish it were 6 weeks more. Or 6 months. Or 6 years.
Will we meet again? Will we ever commiserate over stupid male comments (while getting props and gear for my role, I walked out of the Valley’s plentitude of porn shops, and some guy in a car yelled “I thought you were a bloke!” o_O) or shout each other’s lines or pace around dancing behind the curtains waiting for everyone to scoot in already so that we can start. Two days is too short.
Our vaginas need a community, a culture. And I think I just found mine.
Tickets are still available from the Globe Theatre . Details:
The Globe Theatre, Fortitude Valley, Brisbane Thursday 5th February – 7pm Friday 6th February – 8pm $25 for refugee women in & from Congo
I’m pretty nervous and excited – it’s my first proper acting performance, especially in a major role. Malaysian schools don’t usually consider theater important (school productions? whazzat?) and if there ever was any I’m either the scriptwriter or a bit part. I’ve sung, dance, poetry-slammed, spoken…but not acted. It’s exciting!
I’ll have to get used to wearing a bustier/corset and fishnets on stage, literally climaxing in front of a bunch of strangers (though with Brisbane being Brisbane, there’s probably going to be tons that I recognise from somewhere). There’s no stripping or simulated anything (aside from moans) and it’s not even softcore; still, it’s probably the closest thing I’d ever get to an professional sex performer.
This role has led me to learn more about sex worker rights, sexuality, BDSM, and all sorts of nuances. Mainly in terms of sex work and feminism, and the various arguments between sides. It’s become an educational journey in more ways than one.
I love my crew. We’ve gotten along really well and they’re all lovely. I’ll miss them! I’m glad for the random meeting with Lesley at some youth conference two years ago, and randomly bumping into her a few months ago while walking about UQ – that’s probably what motivated her to add me into her V-Mon list!
I’ve just returned from my first ever burlesque lesson, with acclaimed Brisbane burlesque group the Scoundrelles.
I first heard of burlesque when I came to Australia for uni in mid-2006. My first exposure to anything remotely burlesque-looking then was our college’s traditional first-year Can Can. At the time I was torn between participating (fun! silly! get to dress in cool clothes and jump around!) and not participating (male titillation! demeaning! sex object!). I didn’t get picked for it so it eventually became a non-issue, but I did get a bit jealous of the skirts and fascinators. (I loved Moulin Rouge and thought the fashion was fabulous then too, but didn’t think too much about it.)
For my 21st I went to Melbourne to see one of my closest friends, Victor. As a birthday present he took me to the Royal Melbourne Fair, a big agricultural++ fair (Brisbanites, think Ekka). They had an “Old-Time” photo booth thing there, and I took the opportunity to dress up a little:
It was around then that I realised just how trendy burlesque became in Australia. It dovetails into the 50s-retro style that a lot of Etsyesque crafters have taken up, as well as a growing interest in sexuality amongst women – taking back things like porn and striptease by putting it in control of women.
Burlesque is a style of comedy cabaret performance that involves parody, satire, and exaggeration. It didn’t always involve striptease, but the general idea was to take something usually high-brow and make it more bawdy and risque. There’s a great emphasis on setting mood through costume, music, and set design, and the storyline is paramount. It’s not just a matter of “boom boom topless”; each element’s coordinated to reflect a story.
Often with burlesque shows you’d get all sorts of side entertainment. It’s no accident that this year’s Woodford Folk Festival placed the La La Parlour’s massive burlesque hit Tarnished in the same tent as their circus shows – aside from a similar silly, over-the-top yet glamourous aesthetic, they’re both increasingly popular in Australia (along sideshow entertainment) and some performers cross over into both areas.
Our instructor Lene Marlene described the difference between striptease and burlesque rather succinctly:
With striptease you’re on stage doing what the audience wants you to do. With burlesque you’re on stage doing what you want to do.
Anyone who’s seen Tarnished would agree – the audience’s first desire doesn’t usually involve sharing bubblegum, splashing bathwater around, or placing an angle-grinder to your crotch (err…yeah) but somehow they make it work. It’s the performers that decide how they want their show to go – it’s not the audience’s arousal they’re after, it’s the storyline and the spirit of fun.
It seems to me that while burlesque isn’t necessarily high-intellectual political satire (nor should it be), it’s satire of a different sort: parodying expectations of sexuality in contemporary society. There is no discrimination or preference for body type; everything, from curves to flab to sticks to whatever is celebrated in the world of burlesque. (we’ve got a guy in our class even!) There isn’t a strong standard of beauty that needs to be adhered to.
Heck, you don’t even need to be an expert at performing! (Another Lene line: “if we were any good at dancing we’d be in ballet.”) It’s all about giving it a go – a strong Australian value.
Anyone can be romantic; it takes real lovers to be silly.
It’s a bit of a shame that I can’t really continue exploring burlesque when I go back to Malaysia at the end of March. Anything remotely connotative of sex is repressed and hidden away – you’re never going to get a neo-burlesque show even in relatively-liberal Klang Valley because you’d fail indecency laws! (The Pussycat Dolls, which started out as a burlesque group, received hefty fines for “wearing indecent clothing” in their KL concert – and they were pretty tame.) I won’t be surprised if there were vaudeville-style burlesque artists in Malaysia, mainly dealing with the comedy aspect, but I highly doubt that pasties and petticoats will become a fashion icon anytime soon. (I’m surprised that one woman’s managed to hold pole dancing classes in KL, though she does have the fitness angle. If I was any good I’d start classes, but again, indecency law.)
One strong benefit of having burlesque classes in Malaysia is the sheer increase in diversity in burlesque performance. For all the body-diversity-acceptance in the burlesque community, there aren’t that many non-white people involved in the art. There’s a group in the US called Brown Girls Burlesque that specifically involves women from culturally diverse backgrounds in their performance routines. Sounds like they’re doing good:
Getting culturally diverse people involved in burlesque can be tricky due to cultural norms regarding public sexuality and/or nudity; however, it would also open the doors to greater inspirational material and artistic output. How about a Bollywood Burlesque or a show based on an old creation myth?
Our first class was pretty hardcore – it takes a LOT of fitness, and I nearly sprained my sternum/chest a couple of times from too much shimmying and hip-shaking! We’re not all coordinated yet but that doesn’t matter, first time for everything. I’d particularly like to learn how to choreograph routines, how NOT to sprain my sternum, and how to not look so self-conscious. My face tends to look “stupid” when I perform, and I’d like to loosen up. What better way than to do a show that involves shaking your “chillies”?!
