April 16–23, 1998
music issue
Outrageous
In black gay clubs and ballrooms, voguing's still in style—and the competition is fierce.
by Jonathan David Jackson
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POSING AT SKYLINE: Marco Ebony photo: Jay Matsueda |
At 2 o'clock on a rain-soaked Thursday at Club Skyline, the predominantly black gay patrons ready themselves for the weekly "mini-ball" with its five or six competitive dance categories. Many are already voguing in front of the mirrors, torsos long, supple and still, arms semaphoring, legs bouncing forward in a low squat. Even though this night's novel blend of performance and socialization is but a fraction of the fierce dance competition at the monthly black gay balls (many of which last for over nine hours and include 30 or more categories), the excitement is infectious.
Going to Club Skyline at 12th and Arch (or to the other clubs between Broad and 12th, Spruce and Arch Streets that cater to African-American gay, lesbian and transgendered people) is like journeying to the lost world of 1990s disco, Philly style. The beats are "bottom-heavy" enough to rock the building, but the complex rhythms are neither as fast as the buzzing beat clusters of black British tribal house nor as slow as the rollicking raps of hip-hop. This is black gospel-inspired house music, full of falsetto cries, syncopated chants and foot-stomping shouts. This is the language of voguing and everyone in the club has come to dance.
In the late 1980s and early '90s, the Northeast black gay social scene—and the strange, twisted beauty of the "new" dance form called voguing—moved from underground to overground, thanks to Madonna's hit song and Jennie Livingston's documentary Paris Is Burning. Then the national spotlight faded, making it seem as if the scene had lost momentum, too.
But the clandestine world of balls and clubs continues to rejuvenate itself. And as Mayor Guiliani and the Disney company close countless night spots in New York City, Philadelphia now vies for top billing in a constellation of East Coast cities keeping that world alive, as gay black and Latino club patrons celebrate and deconstruct the core traditions of the black Baptist church, hip-hop culture, '70s disco and '70s soul.
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"If you look like a real |
The revival here is due in part to the grassroots endeavors of Ian Mosley, a tall, quiet, light-skinned young African-American gay club promoter. With his ragtag family-run company and Web site, Mosley reaches out to closeted young black gays through the Internet. His work as the promoter of Club 1415 (at 1415 Locust St.) on Sundays and Club Skyline on Fridays has a down-home, tribal feeling (his mother holds court at the door taking tickets and his younger brother works as a bouncer and scheduler of DJs). Club 1415's three large rooms are separated into house music, hip-hop/reggae and "Cunty" music (music played at balls). "Everyone goes to 1415," says Mosley. "The transsexuals, transvestites, men, women, Cunty boys—everybody!"
The notion of belonging—of needing to be part of a community that understands the complexity of race, sexuality and gender—is the driving force behind the popularity of both the clubs and the "Houses," or black gay street fraternities. Clubs like 1415 and Libations (a popular Friday/Saturday spot for black working-class lesbians) operate as transitional spaces for House members, places where they can pass out elaborately designed invitations for the next big ball. Some of the Houses—like the House of Ebony—trace their roots to the late 1970s. Though sometimes criticized for allowing members to participate in prostitution and other street crimes, the Houses also provide emotional support and creative opportunities for young black gays, particularly transsexuals, who can't find a home anywhere else. Says Grandfather Jeff Prestige (of the House of Prestige), a benevolent old-timer: "For every 'child' who 'crafts' [credit card fraud used to buy designer clothes] there are 10 or 20 kids who don't get into that. I—we have to be good role models."
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Titi Optimus and friend. photo: Jay Matsueda |
The harsh reality of prostitution is forgotten at balls where Femme Queens are rewarded cash prizes or trophies for being "real" women, strutting down makeshift runways to the tune of "Love Hangover" (remixed versions of Diana Ross' classic disco hit). And "realness" is not the only quality that's awarded. Says Trini Lamore, a former member of the House of Prada and an articulate, street-savvy West Indian immigrant: "If you can pass, you know… if you look like a real man, a street man, I mean no 'cunt' [femininity], you are awarded. If you look like a woman, you are awarded. If you vogue, you are awarded. If you are a Butch [female-to-male transsexual], you are awarded. Everybody gets love."
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Voguing now has three |
Balls also reflect many facets of hip-hop culture. Masters of ceremonies like Eric Bazaar or Jay Ebony are gay rappers who give clarity and structure to the performance categories by calling out ironic commentary with the action. The MCs have developed their play-by-play into an art form all its own, says Alvernian Prestige, a pioneer in Philly's gay black club scene. "When they are commentatin', they are rapping, trying to hit all those beats while the kids are dancing. Yes, it is an art, now."
Both the artistic and social aspects of ballroom culture were fully in play at Alvernian's Dorian Corey Awards Ball (dedicated to the legendary New York drag queen made famous in Paris Is Burning), held at the YMCA in South Philly on Jan. 31. But, despite the relentless competition in Runway, High Fashion and Realness, it was the Voguing categories that brought the audience out of their seats. Rumored to have been invented by the legendary Butch Queen Paris Dupree, voguing satirizes mainstream notions of beauty with the language of street dance. Like other African-American social dance forms such as Lindy hopping and breakdancing, the fierceness of the competition over the years has transformed voguing into something more codified and complex.
Voguing now has three different styles: Old Way, New Way and Vogue Femme. Old Way is sharp poses—sometimes "popped and locked" as in break dancing—and quick arm gesticulations. New Way (danced to Kevin Aviance's "Din Da Da") is acrobatic, with twisted, inverted body formations. Vogue Femme (regularly danced to the "Ha Dance" by Masters at Work or Kevin Aviance's "Cunty") is a dance of daintiness, suppleness and caustic effeminate swishing. Mann Ebony says, "I've watched [voguing] for a long time and it has really gone somewhere. You need to be flexible, you know, floor gymnastics and everything."
At the House of Prestige Ball held in a rented hall on the University of Pennsylvania campus last November, the New Way Performance was a highlight. At one critical moment, Eric Diamantis, an excellent stylist from Philly's House of Diamantis, battled Michael Essence (of the DC House of Essence).
Outfitted in their prescribed matching army fatigues, they were like soldiers with arms as weapons. Each performer displayed stylistic individuality: Eric, with his shockingly long arms and lithe figure, was all elegance, clarity and control. His arms connected to points on his shoulders, chest, head and neck as if he was solving some complex puzzle in quick, crisp strokes. Michael, a brawny young man, made each gesture an explosion, an attack. What he lacked in flexibility was made up for in precision and arm control.
When the commentator enticed the battlers with "On the count of three give me your best gotdam pose!" Eric Diamantis dipped and fell to the floor in one count and then he turned his body inside out—a literal deconstruction—his feet left dangling behind his head.
In the black gay social scene, excellence in performance and outrageousness in life are a declaration of deeply felt pride.
