10:00am | This was not your ordinary night of spoken word and performance for it was far too visceral to be categorized as typical. And — though I say this with a tinge of hesitation — it wasn’t ordinary even for the queer crowd.
When I say that last line (“even for the queer crowd”), I am not by any means saying that all LGBTQ-oriented performance is somehow relegated to being always atypical. However, queers have a well-trained taste for the vulgar so graphic descriptions of sex, drugs, fantasies, and what they would like to see done to certain politicians is not fodder for the kill: it’s an engrained part of LGBTQ culture, rooted in the deeply democratic traditions of freedom of expression and escape from repression.
Still, there was something unsettling about Brontez Purnell — the night’s first formal performer following the phenomenal introduction of the crew by MC Michelle Tea — and his candidness with some of the darker sides of youthful living and love. We all know humans use drugs, we all know how insane sanity can some times be, we all know how love can drive us to destructive behavior. But when you hear someone say, with a slight discomfort in their voice but strongly adamant that they will persevere, “And I let him fuck me bareback because I wanted him to think I liked him more,” it never quite loses its power when you hear it out loud. It’s not an admission or confession more than it was a statement and fact — and even the audience drew in their breath with a gasp of sadness. We all know that the removal of a condom doesn’t mean the
And it was just that — statements — that made each performer so astoundingly engaging. Kit Yan’s poetry was overwhelmingly fluid to the point of being inducing a catatonic state: as his speed fluctuated with syncopated drops in words, you found yourself poised in your seat in a complete standstill. Erin Markey’s utterly odd and enormously fantastic musical performances — including a fundraiser for a labia-less child named Secret, in which she would parade through the audience shoving the doll’s misshapen crotch into patron’s faces asking for money to be inserted — were refreshingly out-of-reason (yet incredibly intelligent).
Though I am not one to hierarchize art, there was something to be said about Dorothy Allison, a pioneer in LGBTQ literature and holder of a presence that could easily captivate anyone. Her voice — this soft but powerful, matronly-like audio track — never skipped a melody. Her stories of her encounters with the women of her life lacked pretentiousness or inauthenticity: she dearly loved these women, their experiences, and their essence. Eat, Pray, Love becomes a schtick in the words of Allison.
If you haven’t had the chance to watch it, I suggest you do. The lighting of the Art wasn’t quite prepared (the spotlight went a-missin’), but the shadowy figures actually make for a symbolic introduction — for it’s not necessarily about their faces, but their words. Listen closely… The human spirit is a beautiful thing.
NOTE: This performance and article contains adult content and language that may be offensive.
Viewer discretion is strongly advised.
April 6th, 2:30pm | The Long Beach Post is proud and honored to sponsor the live webcast of Sister Spit, the inaugural performance in The Center of Long Beach’s 2012 QSpeak series.
The series hosts, according to the Center, academic talks, interviews, and ethnographies on queer studies, art, culture, social justice, and history in order to become a venue for open discussion to a broad and diverse audience in Southern California. The popularity of last year’s inaugural series has caused the event to move to the Art Theatre next door to the Center in order to provide more space for a larger audience.
Sister Spit is, in one word, rather indescribable. Loud. Raucous. Rowdy. Offensive (in the best way possible). All can be used to describe the troupe’s performance style — a postmodern mangle of multimedia, poetry, songs, readings, monologues, and just about any other facet of performance one can think of — but still, it is “indescribable” that fits the bill best.
The troupe has decided to stop in Long Beach during its 2012 tour, faturing Michelle Tea as the host of the evening. Along with her, legendary author Dorothy Allison, Mx Justin Vivian Bond (star of John Cameron Mitchell’s Shortbus and also called the “greatest cabaret artist of [our] generation” by Hilton Als in The New Yorker), writer and musician Brontez Purnell, performer and playwright Erin Markey, comic artist and writer Cassie J Sneider, and nationally-ranking slam poet and Mr. Transman 2010 Kit Yan.
Join us in this truly phenomenal performance tonight at 7:00pm.