Feb. 19th, 2008

jere7my: muskrat skull (Default)
As previously mentioned, [livejournal.com profile] sinsofthedove and I went to the Sex Workers' Art Show at the Coolidge on Friday: a midnight show packed with everyone from rowdy butch lesbians to rowdy drunk frat boys to rowdy 35-year-old hippie-looking dorky guys. (Hi!) It was a hoot and a half — not exactly awash in professional production values, for the most part, but heartfelt and moving, sexy and thought-provoking. Y'all in Boston should've come!

To blurb it, it was a night of radical performance art by current and former sex workers: A dramatic reading about being a porn star, by a porn star. A burlesque striptease as a metaphor for American consumerism. The performers used titillation, and the audience's ingrained reactions to it, as a medium for social commentary — see Keva I. Lee, a Vietnamese dominatrix, who used the process of topping a volunteer from the audience to eviscerate the "exotic flower of the East" stereotypes of her clientele. They beg her, she told us, to berate them in "her mother tongue, Mandarin." So, as she moaned and spanked her (hilariously earnest, Hiro-esque) volunteer, slides on a screen translated what she says to them: YELLOW PURSE. APPLE. FERRARI! FERRARI! FERRARI! (She's going to domme her way through grad school, starting in the fall. Go Keva!)

My favorite performer was Erin Markey, who graduated from UMich, and went to work at Déjà Vu (the strip club in Ypsi), the very year [livejournal.com profile] adfamiliares and I moved away from Ann Arbor — I wondered if she'd been in any of K's classes, or come to movies at my theater, but was too chicken to ask her during intermission. She delivered a potent and hilarious monologue about finding a job:
When I earned my bachelor's degree, I had to go out and get a job. I decided the job I really wanted...was to continue to earn my bachelor's degree.
It culminated with a topless musical number about Saint Brigid, sung while climbing a stripper pole to heaven. Bet you've never seen that.

The emcee ended the show with my subject line; I'll leave what preceded it to everyone's imagination. (It also involved the words "FUCK BUSH" written in red electrical tape on a naked drag queen's chest.) They're coming back to Boston next year, and touring the rest of the country right now — watch for them!

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