TransToulouse

Narrow streets of "La ville Rose"

More Toulousian musings on the themes of gender and identity.  Though it wasn't so much musing as it was just simply… experiencing in a closer, more personal way, yet another angle of the gigantic and wonderful diversity of Life.

I knew J. from San Francisco, having witnessed his part in a Theater for Change performance at CIIS, where he studied Expressive Arts Therapy.  His story (told partly in French)  had touched me deeply that day: a story of awakening to and accepting of her/his difference.  There on stage s/he had revealed part of the personal and political struggle s/he'd gone through in this hetero-normative and dualistic gender world.  Neither woman, not quite a man.  Gay, not quite lesbian.  J. has had to define himself outside of the reference frame provided by modern society.  

When I first contacted J., via email, I asked if he preferred the use of a particular pronoun.  He said he generally goes by he, "but like[s] the feminine plural."

J. has decided to begin taking testosterone.  His voice, his smell, his pilosity is changing.  J. is really beautiful.

I contacted him because I thought he might have some good French contacts for HE: a genderstranged clown duo.  I mentioned that we had met briefly once or twice, even though he might not remember.   I said I had the impression we'd get along pretty well, since I am into clowning - I had seen him stilts-walking during the Pride parade!- and drama therapy, and anarchist theory, as well as queer and gender studies - though I'm not half as versed as the real academics are on the subject (Foucault, Butler, etc.). 

He told me he had just moved to Toulouse and didn't know many people yet.  It might be hard to get us a show, but we or I could come visit anyway.

Harvey and I somehow kept our performances of ShameNoShame! in Berlin, but I thought I'd come visit J. in Toulouse.  I asked and s/he said s/he'd be delighted to meet.  And s/he could probably ask his squat-mates if I could stay there for a few days.

Funny how two beings with so many commonalities can live in the same city (SF), without ever meeting.  

Lovely how it can happen so naturally, two years later, on the other side of the Atlantic.  Given: there was the French connection.

"You can call me when you arrive and I'll come meet you", he'd said.

I was a bit nervous.  Was I cool enough to hang with J.?  Was I cool enough to hang at the squat?

When I called he asked, "how are we going to find each other?"

"I've got a big red backpack," I answered.  "And I'll recognize you I'm sure."

"Okay.. well I'm wearing a hat and… pants… kinda like a clown.. hehe."

Place Wilson.  I'm sitting on the bench entertaining conversation with a local man, busy trying to gage whether I should - and how and where to - draw my own opinions and boundaries, as the man passes judgements on a group of homeless young adults hanging around peacefully.  He asks me where I'm staying in Toulouse.  "With a friend," I say.  "He's coming to meet me any minute."

I used the masculine pronoun repeatedly, even though something inside of me wondered how androgynous-ambiguous J. might show up to be, and what reaction this narrow-minded fellow might  have.  I was eager to find out. 

J. and I found each other immediately.  He came to greet me. Kisses on each cheeks.  He shook my interlocutor's hand; I smiled.  I didn't remember seeing J. with facial hair before.

On the way to his house he told me he was in the process of changing his legal name:  "It's very complicated here in France.  I need a note from my doctor, which states that my decision to take testosterone makes my transition irreversible."

This is what I mean when I say that I got to experience the whole thing to a more personal level.  I know a few transgender folks, yet there is something about J. that I just feel so close to.  It's an essence.  It's the woman and the man in him.  It's the complete ease with which I see him as he is, forgetting and remembering the difference according to the moment.  It's the strangeness of my own voice when I refer to myself in the feminine.

Why am I identifying as a woman?

I don't actually feel the dire need to answer the question.  Maybe that's why.

"I came to a point where I realized that the only way I would be able to grow old was if I became a man" explained J.

Can you imagine?

Perhaps many of us cannot.  And I guess that's valid.  Yet, it is so real, and so freakin' beautiful to me.. integrity in complexity… evolutionary… beyond duality… You gotta respect.

But I left my new friend now that I'm on the bus towards Sevilla, Spain.  Last leg of this three month adventure.  

Yes, I am confident saying that I made a new friend.  It was a short time, but J. and I met straight from the heart.  The connection is undoubtedly timeless.  
Once again I met someone who's in a similar place: out of San Francisco and hoping to create a good life in a new place, hoping to share wisdom and care with the world, painfully seeing the many imperfections of this neoliberal system and trying to create something else, something better, more sustainable and ethical, at the periphery. 

But we didn't only talk.  We also danced.  First, he invited me to join his contact improvisation class, on wednesday evening.  And then again on Friday, him and his partner asked if I'd be interested in "helping out" and come to the studio to rehearse a session of "movement exploration." 

Because you see, J.'s girl has a passion ... for Butoh!  
Together they are crafting a workshop she will be offering at a festival in London.

Help out?  ah! ah! ah! Amen!

I met them at the studio, and then J. and I got a private Butoh class…

Connecting in movement, in breathing, in presence and exploration, in vulnerability and in freedom.


Butoh is a dance of in-between.  It's a dance of being with becoming... of being with transition.
How perfect.  How powerful.


---

"Parlas occitan?"
"Una soleta lenga sufis pas jamai!"

I also meant to write about Occitan, or Langue d'Oc, which is a latine language spoken  in eight regions of Southern France, as well as twelve alpine valleys in Italy, and in parts of Spain.  (It is quite close to Catalan.)
It was the language of the troubadours and poets, and it was widely spoken until the 14th century.  But then came the systematic imposition of the French language over the territory; first, when the king of France began to "unify" (read: conquer) the nation, and again with the French Revolution, because diversity of languages came to be seen as a threat to the Republic.
I'm just so fascinated with how languages morph and mix and become extinct...

Ritual, per-form-ance

I am writing from a different kitchen table today.  I left the room I had been renting for the past month, in Prenzlauerberg, where I was perhaps starting to get a bit too comfortable.  I am now staying at the outskirt of Berlin, in a flat with - once again- seven roommates.  I cannot get over how wonderful the Couch Surfing community can be.  I got here last night, and already I have had the most interesting conversations with my hosts.  But more about this later.





What is more urgent for me is this dance project I have joined.  I got an email from my ex-flatmate Jakob (the Butoh dancer) last week, calling for women dancers and performers.  I sent a CV and two photos of myself, and showed up for an "audition" at Tachales, on Thursday evening.
First, a few words about the famous Tachales.  Well in fact, let us ask the almighty (I am not saying this without a tone of irony, let me assure you)... wikipedia:

The Kunsthaus Tacheles (Art House Tacheles), is an art center in Berlin, a large (9000 square meter) building onOranienburger Straße in the district known as Mitte. Huge, colorful graffiti-style murals are painted on the exterior walls, and modern art sculptures are featured inside. The building houses an artists collective which is threatened with eviction.

Originally called "Friedrichsstadtpassagen", it was built as a department store in the Jewish quarter (Scheunenviertel) of Berlin, next to the synagogue.^[2] After serving as a Nazi prison for a short while, it was later partially demolished. After the Berlin Wall had come down, it was taken over by artists, who called it Tacheles, Yiddish for "straight talking."^[2] The building contained ateliers and workshops, a nightclub, and a cinema.

This is, to me, the most astonishing and fascinating thing about Berlin: there have been so many turns - within the last century only - in the constitution of the urban environment.  All over the city giant buildings have served a rotating bases for Jewish people, for Communists, for Nazis, and today, for Anarchists.  The evidence is everywhere.  Systems change.

Tachales is filled with graffiti.  It is also a bit filthy.  There are metal sculptures planted all over the back yard and inside the main part of the building, artists turn recycled materials into pieces of art while leaving the doors open for the general public - herds of tourists - to come observe the phenomenon.
There is something profoundly inspiring in this: Reclaiming (and opening up) spaces.


The audition was more like a deliciously-crafted workshop.  Our director, Paulina, is a choreographer and an "author of socio-cultural animation programs".  She is from Poland.  On the first day she introduced us to her friend and assistant, Mikki, who would be in the "more witchy"  aspect of the work...
Delight.
Soon we began to dance, twenty-or-so women coming from the seven corners of Europe.  I knew two of them; Iaro, a French Butoh Dancer who is staying now with Jakob and with whom I've had the pleasure to share in one delicious pasta dinner and precious conversations on the subjects of Butoh, life, and relationships.  The other woman I had encountered on the floor of Ecstatic Dance.  And that had been a silent communion, so I hadn't caught her name.  We both recognized each other with a big smile.
I wondered how many of these girls were "professional" dancers.  How many of them are in their early twenties.  How many of them have injuries.  What are their dreams?  What are their fears?

A sculpture in the yard, which
is a true museum.

After warming up we were split in different groups, according to... the look of our hair!  "We are going to work with some cliches" had explained Paula.
"Short hair" she said, and pointed to three of us to form a subgroup.  "Tall, long hair," was another group, along with "Blond hair", and "Dark hair." Funny how I have been so mindful of my hair recently.  Funny how I was placed in the "short hair" clan, but didn't quite feel it.
Anyway.  We each created a short choreography and were then asked to present it on stage.  Soon, we were also improvising solo bits, and groups intermingled to create, already then, a powerful series of moments and performance.
At the end of the session, Mikki gathered us around a circle of Tarot cards she had spread on the floor.  We stood shoulder to shoulder and closed our eyes.  We listened to the breath we shared, and the heart beating in each one of our chest.  We vocalized together in this sacred space, re-discovering how perfectly connected we fundamentally are.
Amen.


Then we each picked a card.  I thought about the many questions mine could potentially pertain to.  I couldn't quite structure a concrete sentence, but I thought I heard my heart say that it had to do with "art... and especially physical theater."  More specifically perhaps, It was about my future in relationship to those things.  For I cannot help it: what I worry about is the future.

Cold, industrial, bare dance-theater. 

I picked the Goddess Sige: "Take some quiet time alone to rest, meditate, and contemplate."
What?
I didn't want that answer.  I couldn't quite hear it.  I felt angry, et désemparée.  What is this supposed to mean?  I thought of my foot, because it is true that it still hurts me a lot.  It is true that perhaps I should not be dancing so much.  I should get some acupuncture, I should, I should, I should.
But I want to dance!  I thought I had finally found a way to express my most essential self.  I thought I had the perfect formula; being, after all, a former athlete with the soul of an artist.  Being after all, spirit in matter, having so much electricity to channel into form, through my body.
"Take some quiet time alone to rest."  Rest?  Why now?  How?  I swear I want to listen to the universe, but I just don't understand this one.  So I got home that night - on Thursday - and did a bit more research.  This is what I read on a blog I found:


 Shhh, dearest one. Quiet your mind. Breathe and let go of words, worry, and plans. Go into that space of silence deep within you, that vortex of peace where the world doesn't enter. Now is the time to retreat in silence and spend time alone. I'll lovingly help you rejuvenate and recenter yourself. Don't try to make any decisions now. Just allow your mind to be at rest. You'll know soon enough when it's time to take action. But for now, quiet your mind. Rest."


Well I do like that.  In fact, it sounds a lot like what I've already been doing on some level.  I have been observing myself wanting to make plans.  But I have also sat with it...


My foot hurts, but I truly madly deeply do want to be part of this project.  Twenty plus dancing witches creating a performance at Tachales over the span of four intense days?  No "workshop fees"?  Are you kidding me?!


I have come up with a "working hypothesis", as I meditate on the message of this card I picked.  (Perhaps this is mere "rationalization", or some form of cognitive dissonance; but it's the best I can handle right now.)  I like to believe that Sige is simply enjoining me to honor the part of me, which is Butoh.  She is offering me an opportunity to slow down while I do what I love.  There is no need to push my physical body beyond her current limitations.  There is no need to try and prove that I can dance.  I am a woman in a woman's body, my soul ready to overflow with love, wisdom and power.  This is Berlin, and it is Samhain season.  The Mayan calendar has ended for some, magic is upon and within us.  We are practicing the art of manifestation.  I am on a path to learn how to hold my energy, rather than mindlessly releasing and dispersing it.  I am on a path to become more conscious of my impulses and desires, and to be gentle with myself, and concentrate.
Con-centrate: "to centrate with".
:)

On a building near Tachales,
Oranienburger Tor

HE was Built for Speed!

Thoughts accumulate throughout the day and in so many directions, it's hard to actually verbalize it.  Last night HE had a gig at the King Kong Club.  How did it go?  HE... had. a. blast!
A couple of Americans, Mad Kate (Kathryn Fisher) and her partner, Juan Of a Kind, have been "throwing this party"(what a strange phrase!) one thursday each month for the past five years.  Last night, very few people were actually in the bar.  We had been scheduled to perform at 22h but we went on about an hour and a half later, of course. ''If it starts on time, it's not art!''
There were perhaps only 12-15 people in there... but: we truly played with them!
Before the show, Harvey was going around taking sips from people's drinks, and of course, I-Magda had to leave the comfort of the backstage lounge (where Magda was perfectly pleased to be dancing and singing to herself in the mirror for a while) in order to stop her from making a terrible fool of herself, causing havoc, and above all, embarrassing me-Magda!
We had such fun playing with people, sitting with them, me with my lipstick and mustache attire, talking to them in French, even though they didn't even speak a word of it!  Although, doing this pre-game thing I  found out that four or five actually did speak very good French, which meant that it was going to be a bit of a challenge, and certainly quite some fun...

"Lonely no More"

I find that working in gibberish with Madga has helped me with the physicality a bit more.  Nevertheless, I do have some work to do with keeping this crazy hysteric character grounded throughout the piece.. and with this non-language I still had the tendency to fly up and up...
It was fun for a while, and I do still hope to play with gibberish.  The reason I'm so attached to the idea is because I find language to be such a fascinating phenomenon.. and such an absurd and funny thing!  But I guess I've discovered that gibberish is perhaps one of those things that are best used only when it is "done well."  I'm not sure exactly what this means.  I suspect it might have to do with economy, as James Donlon would say.



So the show was a success.  The twelve people in our audience laughed, and gasped, and shouted and played with us.  It felt great.


We are doing another night at the same place next week (on my birthday!) - a different party though.  And for next time we are creating an alternative ending.  It'll be a special edition! if you my may say so; and there are talks of it involving hair clippers...

After the gig, Juan was DJ-ing some really good music; a lot of stuff I had only heard once of twice, mostly  "eighties queer rock pop"; or at least that's how I would call it.  By then, it was perhaps half passed midnight.  I had told Harv that I might very well go straight home after the gig - because I have been dancing 5 hours of Butoh everyday since Wednesday, and had another day of workshop today!  (How I want to elaborate on this too!!)  and I meant it... I was really tired.  But when I heard the music and saw the crowd (Kate, and Megg) dancing madly, I came out of the backstage room with my three free-drinks tickets and decided to stay.. for a little while.

Alex pours a Bavarian beer like it's a work of art!

Well, it turned out that all these beautiful people were actually all good friends with one another- duh!  Gorgeous freaky people!  Queers, punks and fairies...
Harvey and I exchanged a look and almost said it in unison: I love Berlin!

Kathryn, Andre, and Meg.
Partyin' like it's 1989!

I know these pictures could make you raise an eyebrow or two.  Well, what can I say?  Berlin is a place where these things just happen.  There is this edge, this pushing, this reputation for experimental art and performance art.  There are ex-patriates, artists from the United States, who have come here to play outside the bounds of a puritan American culture.

And remember: Europeans have a different perspective/ relationship with/perception of sexuality.  So let's just say that when you juxtapose a Berliner-German psyche (of which there a lot I hope to discuss further) on that backdrop, well... it creates some hot kinky stuff!

In short, it seems that our genderstranged clown duo might very well have found a home!  Everybody there was the sweetest, most fun radical people.  (No offense to you Alyssa, rocking out Rage Against the Machine with a bunch of Hamburger metal lovers was quite a memorable experience too, but this was just some crazy stuff! hehe)  In fact you know what it is?  It's a kind of FREEDOM...  These folks are so free...

When dancing becomes public performance:
sexy, raw, beautiful, alive!
(yet, still tasteful.  I swear!)

I got home around 4am.

Approaching the Circle.

It seems that my initiation into busking is approaching.  Since Sharon has told her that he thinks ShameNoShame! would do a good (did he actually say "good"?) street show, Harvey has been fueling the pyre, talking to people, researching the best spots of the city, and trying to boost my courage.  I've also done some research.  I can see how gathering and keeping a crowd is the hardest part of the deal.  The thing is, the beginning of ShameNoShame! is basically me alone (with a giant cake, that's true), because Harvey is in the cake-puppet at that point.  Therefore, it falls on me to attract and capture people's attention.
Something just occurred to me as I'm writing this!  I always talk about how I struggle with being too big and taking too much space.  Well Ève, there you go; here's the opportunity to turn the curse into a gift!  Still...


Neil asks, and I deem it a good challenge to try and answer:


"For whose benefit are you attempting to serve? 
And for what purpose?"


I find the question difficult to answer, because I feel that the reasons why I practice clowning and the subject matter of this particular play are somehow juxtaposed, but not identical.
I've written somewhat extensively about my relationship with clowning.  So let's me first explore the specifics of ShameNoShame!


Both Harvey and I are thinkers.  We probably think too much when we work; we know that, but can't help the fact.  As we see it, our play attempts to serve 1) women 2) the pleasure-principle 3) anybody dealing with an oppressive superego!  The purpose behind it?  Something along the lines of bringing an awareness to the predicament of the many women, for whom the sexual experience has been defined by the precepts and expectations of our patriarchal society.  And this, in turn, is reflected in the ways we too often compromise our integrity in the name of acceptance and so-called love. Obviously, this challenge may apply to any gender.  I guess our piece also addresses more general ideas of gender, if only in a lighter, more playful way.



Yeah, I guess I can't quite believe I'd be doing this in the streets... but if not in Berlin, where?
Or perhaps I should confess, that the topic is not actually the closest to my heart at this point in life.  I fully endorse the message (especially now that I've revised what it's about, so thanks Neil!) but I must admit that I personally feel a little bit detached from the subject.


What can I say? I haven't dated in a long time. ;)
Perhaps that's because I value my integrity a little too tightly?  Perhaps it's because each thing comes in its own time...
Right now, I'm working.

On my roof

Bodiespeak

This is why I love living in San Francisco:
Last night I went to my neighbours' house, which is actually about four doors down, and is painted dark purple.  It was the first time I was going to hang out with Travis, a friend of a friend who I have met in several different occasions.  Travis is the guy who never wears a shirt.  Travis is a character.  He is a marvelous man, who has created his profession as a "cuddle therapist".  It would be long to describe what cuddle therapy is, so here's a short piece by photojournalist  Lauren Crabbe.  Travis is a lovely being.  We talked about his "15 years of playing video games every-single-day" and a trip that is.  The virtual world, the age of computer connections, this alternate reality which was created and allows people to live a life of adventure and fantasy.. 
We talked about the pineal gland and Dimethyltryptamin.  And we admired the wonderful aesthetic value of whipped cream.  We mentioned negative numbers too.  And of course, there was polyamory and how it is really a complete way of life, of presence and mindfulness, rather than merely a sexual thing.
It is so refreshing to meet someone who wants to articulate those things.  Sexuality is an aspect of our use and experience the energies that run through us.  (With... Travis(!) - but another one; my recent-former roomate- we got into a heated conversation, a couple of weeks ago, about what we called "tantric clowning." But I shall also return to this...)


So I love living in San Francisco.  Because here, at the moment, I meet a lot of people, men and women, who understand and live out a revolution in consciousness.  We are queers and we are here. :)  We're at the last frontier of a big experiment.  We're populating a city in a foggy Bay, her hills and curves...
We meet the East and its sacred understanding, that all is One and One is Two.  And we talk of the ten thousand things around the kitchen table, on a Tuesday evening.


And tonight... again...  A conversation with two of my roomates (Blessed be these powerful womyn!!) gave voice to so many insights.  Imagine three female therapists sitting around a bowl of pop corn (homemade, seasoned with agave, sesame seeds, cinnamon, and salt) talking about romantic relationships and projective identification.
Guilt is an ego-centric phenomenon.  That's okay; it was meant to happen this way.  We might just have overgrown that mechanism!  Because what's the point of taking the blame when somebody else's "psycho-emotional" buttons get pushed and led them to act out hold woundings?  We all do it, that's for sure.  We all re-enact the stories we believed in as kids.  And some of these stories were real, and some were very real.  But if we're lucky, we've had the privilege of getting ourselves beyond the level of survival, so that we do not depend on a caretaker.. or simply.. an other.
Fear of abandon, for instance, is a real experience.
In many circumstances, the child who loses a parent will experience a threat to her sense of survival.  The developing "I" is still depended upon the reflection of an other, and the loss of that reflection is perceived as of directed towards the "I", thus imprinting the the familiar "Daddy left because I was a bad boy/girl" mentality/belief.
Now, as adults... we seek ways to grow beyond this guilt.  We try our best and our relationships still bring up so much wounding, so much hardship, so much pain.  We seek intimate relationships and we come to face so many resistances once we're engage in them.
Or do we fall into them a bit more compulsively... par la force des choses?
We find our mirrors.
To find ourselves.
Isn't that so much beyond us?!
Isn't that proof that we do not have control, and therefore aren't responsible for so much of what happens? (Don't get me wrong, however, for we do agree that it is an art to find balance on this line.)  And if we don't have control, then of course it can be scary.  So we may feel angry, or perhaps frightened into numbness... 
But giving up control alleviates a tremendous part of the guilt.


And at the same time let us not forget that the fear is real.  The being and the body know the feeling.  It is a signal, a notice that something is potentially dangerous for the self.  It is a sign to become not only careful, but mindful.  What is the fear about?  As adults, some fears will be imagined.. based in fantasies.  But sometimes,  they are right on.  And what my roommate (R.) was saying is that this intuitive attribute, which we all have, has been repressed.  If we're lucky and privileged, we can come to possess a good sense of our body and our emotions in it.  And fear, for instance, is a good one to notice.  The body does not lie.


There is wisdom in intuition.  There is wisdom in listening.
There is power in claiming your ability to listen.
There is power in re-claiming your ability to listen.
Ase!
My other roommate, N., said that.  The crazy thing is that it was almost as if she'd been sent to name that for me.  I mean, isn't that what keeps coming up in therapy?


That and so many other things.
All One.
Because all me.  Which is you, and you, and you..

Burlesque clowning? (part 2)

Still, where the libidinal meets the intellectual, that's where I strive.  That's what I'm doing right now.  Writing, analyzing, the phenomenon of "HE: a genderstranged clown duo"...  What does it mean!?

It means that I would never have thought I'd be wearing fish nets and pink high heels.  I never imagined I'd be wearing a lipstick the color of which is "geisha's kiss".  As much as I have grown exponentially since delving into this new character, Magda, and as much as I sometimes wonder if I'm not just playing a secret part of myself (duh!), she is still very much a character.  Well, maybe, an alter ego.  It's all so fascinating.

This clown character is an exploration of power.  And since my body and image is of the feminine, it also has to be part of it.  (The truth shall set us free.)

There are different aspects to Magda's power.  She has that authoritarian edge, for one thing.  This is something I'm not done processing.  But there's also the sexy part...

Magda is "sexy", because she is sexual and civilized at the same time.  She gets off when she likes something.  She feels ecstatic passion for small things she finds.  The world is erotic, all around.

Yesterday Harvey and I did a shoot in Golden Gate Park, with a friend photographer.  (Harvey had found this spot on a walk a couple of weeks ago: an equestrian range, a sandy, circular, fenced up course, somewhere hidden around 40th Avenue.)  We did ourselves up, put our full costumes on, and played in the sunlight for about an hour while Liz took photos. 

Being in character in the middle of nature was a new experience.  I found it absolutely surreal and fabulous, as well as liberating.  Magda got to climb and balance on fences, she got to point to a bunch of nails planted in a majestuous eucalyptus tree (culture meets/wounds nature).  She got so turned on being outside, she wanted to be real wild.  Of course, she wore high heels that sank in the sand at every step, and there were moments when all this dirt and these obstacles actually suddenly annoyed and disgusted her.  She wanted to keep her status and her looks!!

What a complex deal...

I do feel that I am still figuring things out... but that's a good sign.

I've wanted to write this blog about burlesque for the past couple of weeks, ever since I randomly found a book entitled "Actresses and Whores" at the Main Public Library.  Of course, it's certainly (is that redundant?) that same place, inside of me that is, which allured me to this book "Actresses and Whores", and who's at the core of Magda's emergence.

I'm integrating my feminine power, my own way.

It's true I've never really imagined myself in a corset before.  But I have been pondering the darker aspects of the feminine for some time.  It's in my name after all.  Or rather, in my counterpart's name: Lilith.

P.S. I feel that I have so much more to explore in relationship to this "burlesque" thing.  Part of me is revolted, to see such a display.  I mean, these women are pretty much completely naked on stage!  It blows my mind.  How much power lies in that decision to wear one's denuded body and entertain others?  (Though I should reassert that the term "entertain" is already in itself a concept I am ambivalent about.)

I don't know that I would go that far myself.  But then again.  If I'm gonna embody and parody my power, and if I am to identify as a woman (with a mustache), then I must acknowledge that [in regard to the masculine, as well as fundamentally] there is such a magical power in a woman's body.  Therefore I must be honnest with my audience and play it.  There is power in having a feminine image.  ( I could get all deep psychology on you now.. but that too will have to be for another day!)  There is power in sexuality.

I'm just a clown.

"Like the first generation of English actresses, the first generation of female burlesque performers" (1868, see Lydia Thompson and The British Blondes) "instigated public debate over the proper display of female sexuality and forever changed the face of [US-American] theater." p.93 

burlesque clowning? (part 1)

"Burlesque is a literary, dramatic or musical work intended to cause laughter by caricaturing the manner or spirit of serious works, or by ludicrous treatment of their subjects." (wikipedia)


We are being told that we do "burlesque clowning."  But wait a minute; isn't that a tautology?  Sounds like the sweet sound of patriarchy to me!  
Don't they teach that clown is libidinal by nature?  Certainly.  Since their shamanic days, performers of the trickster archetype have adorned giant phalluses (phalli!), thrusted their hips, all the while being an integral part of  tribal sacred ceremonies!  Clowns have made sure to express the libidinal in humanity, in order to remind the people of the irremediable connection between earth and sky, matter and spirit, humans and gods.  
Clowns, like priests, have mostly been men.


So something has been going on; don't you think?  Women are clowning now, though the art form has undeniably changed.  (I'm not even talking about the "mass spectacle" of the circus clowns, although perhaps another day I will.)  I guess I am referring to the modern clown in [very] general.  I am talking about the stage, where ever since Shakespeare and Moliere clowns have grappled with other, perhaps more subtle and complex aspects of the Psyche.  Today, "clown work" involves sounding to the shadowy depths of our emotions and modern desires.  That's where the catharsis occurs, that's what we seek and reveal for others to remember.


So what happened to the sexual content?
You see, I spent six months training with six guys and one other woman who like me does not necessarily fully identlfy with all the expectations of the gender. (Let's note, right away, the words that chose to come out for me here.  "Guys" and "a woman".  Isn't that fascinating?  Doesn't it remind you of being in high school again?)  These men, when they played, so easily - and in fact incontrollably - seemed to revert to being boys again.  Their humor often was quite basic and lewd.  It was funny, and exasperating.  That's because I wanted to do "serious", "meaningful" work.  I wanted to work towards a message, to work in a context and give it thought and opinion.  Don't get me wrong, I know how absurd this is.  Clowns have the duty to shed those social layers, to drop the analyzing mind, and to strive for spontaneity.  Still, I couldn't (and still cannot) deny the drive in me, to make material which is grounded in an understanding of the times we live in. 
Now that I think of it...  Isn't it interesting that the boys had no problem expressing the libidinal, while I felt uncomfortable doing so?  I didn't feel there was room for it, or rather perhaps, no referential context for me to explore and express physical, sexual urges.  (I must say, however, that the program did not deliver half of what I expected from a clown training.)
It seemed natural for the boys.  I had to deal with layers upon layers of socialization and gender expectations.  I didn't know what to do with that.  It's a shame.
So tell me now, what is "burlesque clowning"?  It sounds to me like we've created a separate category for women who wish to unearth their sexuality in a performative context.  It sounds to me like we've been pushed to the periphery, somehow.  Or perhaps that's where we're budding, us women clowns and priestesses...

NoShame!

I've been working with Harvey on ShameNoShame! for about what... a month?  With Harvey, we've met two or three times per week for the past four or six weeks.  We've rehearsed at her apartment, on Great Highway Boulevard right in front of Ocean Beach, out in the yard.  We've rehearsed in my dinning room, to the bewilderment and amusement of my roomates.  They would walk in the kitchen and see us, Harvey holding a Breadman puppet with an erection, and myself wearing pink high heels and a tutu over my jeans!
The process of ShameNoShame! has been such a fabulous experience!  For one thing, it's undeniable that Harvey and I found an amazing partner in each other.  We're both freaks, queer, crazy.  She pushes gently on a lot of my boundaries...

ShameNoShame! is about sexuality and acceptance.  Harvey began working on it several months ago as part of her residency at The Garage.  I saw her first showcase one night, and the next week we were working together under the direction of Dan Griffiths.

Originally, I would say that her play explored the tragi-comic realities of a sex worker looking for true love, and the path to recover one's sense of wholeness in a culture where pleasure and judgment seem to perpetually collide.  Sex is sin, sex is sold.  Sex is learned, and stolen.  Sex represent one of the most vulnerable and intimate subject in one life.  Sex is present in everyone's life, in one form or another.  Yet sex is taboo.  And we have much to learn.
What is most fascinating about this experience, is that the play Harvey wrote has transformed and evolved greatly over the past 6 weeks.  The incorporation of my character surely helped move the story as a new dialectic unfolded.  Harvey's clown is pre-verbal and all appetite; she is libidinal.  My clown appears as the ring "mistress"type, a cross between the dominatrix MC and the drag Queen that I can be.  I am at once sexy and grotesque.  I seek control and power, but I too have my limitations.  And that's beside Harvey always messing with me.

This process has been a blessing.  I've spent about 10 hours/week rehearsing, and there is not even a dollar at the other end.  We have two shows this weekend, and that's it.
Well it doesn't have to be it.  If I decide to go to Germany it seems that Harvey and I could very well find some work.

But it's insane! Going to Berlin to work on clown theater that actually puts a mirror to some real social taboos?!  The thing is, that I don't know how much I want to do this.. I mean this character is a trip!  I would've never thought I could do the things I've been doing on stage.  It is sexy, explicit... gender-bending... it is sexuality affirming.  That's why it has been such a growing edge!  ShameNoShame! has allowed me to explore my relationship with sexuality (I hope it creates a similar effect in our audience!) in a way I could never have.  For some reason I cannot yet say that it has been healing (although it certainly has too) for the reason that I am still quite uncomfortable and have a lot of questions about a lot of what comes up in the play and in the process.

But that's what it's all about.  I feel that I am exactly where I should be, doing exactly what I am meant to be doing right now.
So I praise the All.