किंग्स के लिए मामला
ब्यू जंगल्स, स्वयंभू "आपकी परदादी की पीढ़ी के लिए बकवास," दक्षिण लंदन सराय में एक पुराने जमाने के माइक्रोफोन में गाती है। पूंछ के साथ थ्री-पीस सूट और एक बैंगनी कमरबंद पहने हुए, वह एक हाथ में स्कॉच का एक गिलास पकड़ता है, जैसे कि उसके क्रैवेट में हीरा झपकाता है और उसके माथे पर चिकने कर्ल तेजी से झूलते हैं। वह दर्शकों में एक महिला पर एक चमकती मुस्कान बिखेरता है। वह राजा की हरकतों पर सपने में आहें भरती है, स्टॉर्म डेलार्वी जैसे बदमाशों के समय को याद करती है।
एक रिकॉर्डिंग स्टूडियो में, शिकागो स्थित टेंडरोनी एक पेशेवर कोरियोग्राफ किए गए नंबर पर पॉप और स्विंग करता है, आसानी से आर एंड बी के लिए लिप-सिंकिंग करता है। स्पष्ट कंधे पैड, चांदी के हरेम पैंट, और लाल चमड़े के दस्ताने के साथ उनकी बैंगनी आंखों की छाया 21 वीं शताब्दी के लड़के जॉर्ज की तरह काफी हद तक कटौती करती है।
यूरोप के प्रीमियर ड्रैग कन्वेंशन में, एक विशाल बैंगनी अयाल और दाढ़ी वाला एक सींग वाला आदमी एक कुर्सी से पीछे की ओर फिसल जाता है। वह अपने चार इंच के मंच के सैंडल पर जोर से उतरता है और पूरे मंच पर बेरहमी से स्टंप करता है, उसकी रोमन चमड़े की स्कर्ट के पैनल चौड़े उड़ते हैं। ओडिपुसी रेक्स, "दाढ़ी खींचें बर्बर", फिर लियोनार्ड कोहेन के "हेलेलुजाह" को उगलना शुरू कर देता है, जिससे दर्शकों को साथ गाने के लिए प्रोत्साहित किया जाता है।
यह अप्रैल के मध्य में है, और हम लगभग RuPaul की ड्रैग रेस के 14 वें सीज़न के साथ हैं । उम्मीदवार-हर स्ट्राइप की रानियों को खींचें- शो के माध्यम से साशा और प्रचलन। निश्चित रूप से, वे अपने शिल्प के उस्ताद हैं, आनंद के प्रतिभाशाली व्यक्ति हैं जिन्होंने इस मुकाम तक पहुंचने के लिए कड़ी मेहनत की है। फिर भी, कोई मदद नहीं कर सकता लेकिन दोहराव को महसूस कर सकता है। पिछले डेढ़ दशक से, एक के बाद एक ड्रैग क्वीन ने इस खिताब के लिए संघर्ष किया है, जबकि ब्यू जंगल्स , टेंडरोनी और ओडिपुसी रेक्स जैसे गतिशील ड्रैग किंग हमारी स्क्रीन से अनुपस्थित रहते हैं, जो मुख्यधारा से अधिकांश भाग में छिपे हुए हैं।
निराशा व्यापक है । "मुझे यकीन नहीं है कि मैं आपको एक एकल ड्रैग किंग का नाम दे सकता हूं जो सोचता है कि ड्रैग रेस किसी भी तरह से ड्रैग का एक सच्चा, समावेशी प्रतिबिंब है," ब्यू जांगल्स ने ईज़ेबेल को बताया। "मैंने कई कलाकारों को सुना है जो ड्रैग रेस मोल्ड में फिट होते हैं , यहां तक कि कुछ ऐसे भी हैं जो शो में शामिल होने की कमी पर आहें भरते हैं।"
ड्रैग रेस के चौदह ड्रैग क्वीन प्रतियोगियों में इस साल मैडी मॉर्फोसिस थे, जो शो में शामिल होने वाले पहले सिजेंडर, सीधे आदमी थे। कई राजाओं के लिए मैडी मॉर्फोसिस के रानी होने के अधिकार पर बहस नहीं हुई थी। ईज़ेबेल के साथ एक ईमेल में, टेंडरोनी ने कहा, "मुझे लगता है कि मैडी एक अलग दृष्टिकोण दिखा सकता है और यहां तक कि कुछ दर्शकों को एक अलग अवधारणा में पेश कर सकता है कि वास्तव में ड्रैग संस्कृति क्या है: एक मिश्रित बैग।" फिर भी कुछ लोगों ने देखा कि केरी कोल्बी और कॉर्नब्रेड "द स्नैक" जेटे को भी कास्ट किया गया था, जिससे यह पहली बार हुआ कि रंग की दो ट्रांस महिलाएं एक साथ प्रतिस्पर्धा करेंगी। ऐसा लगा जैसे मैडी की कास्टिंग की सनसनी ने इस ऐतिहासिक क्षण को झकझोर कर रख दिया. इसके अलावा, मैडी की कास्टिंग इस बात का एक और उदाहरण था कि ड्रैग क्या है और इसे कौन कर सकता है, इसके बारे में पुरातन विचारों को मजबूत करते हुए शो ने ड्रैग कलाकारों के विशिष्ट समूहों को बाहर करना जारी रखा।
अतीत में, रानियां सिजेंडर महिलाओं के रूप में ड्रेसिंग करने वाले सिजेंडर पुरुष थे, और ड्रैग किंग्स को सिजेंडर पुरुषों के रूप में तैयार होने वाली सिजेंडर महिलाओं के रूप में माना जाता था। लेकिन पुराने दिशा-निर्देश कौन प्रदर्शन कर सकता है, इस धारणा के साथ-साथ कि लिंग और कामुकता एक सख्त बाइनरी के भीतर मौजूद है, खिड़की से बाहर चला गया है। यह कोई आश्चर्य की बात नहीं है कि कई लोग आत्म-अभिव्यक्ति के रचनात्मक उपकरण के रूप में खींच रहे हैं और एक विषम समाज में रहने की सीमा से मुक्ति पा रहे हैं।
"ज्यादातर लोग जो ड्रैग किंग हैं, उनके द्वारा चित्रित किए जा रहे पात्रों के प्रकार से उत्पीड़न या गलतफहमी का अनुभव होने की संभावना है," ब्यू जांगल्स ने कहा। "तो, या तो वे उस समस्याग्रस्त चीज़ में झुक जाते हैं, या वे प्रदर्शित करते हैं कि स्वस्थ मर्दानगी क्या हो सकती है- या गैर-द्विआधारी और ट्रांस ड्रैग किंग्स के मामले में, अपनी खुद की मर्दानगी दिखाते हुए और समाज द्वारा आपको बताए जाने के बाद इसे गले लगाते हैं कि आप कर सकते हैं ' टी है।" ड्रैग एक आजीविका बन गया है, LGBTQ+ लोगों के पूरे मेजबान के लिए एक पेशा, और कुछ के लिए, यह एकमात्र ऐसा स्थान है जहाँ उन्हें लगता है कि वे प्रदर्शन कर सकते हैं।
सिगी मूनलाइट के लिए , लंदन के एक राजा और क्वीर के सदस्य, पैन-एशियन कैबरे सामूहिक द बिटन पीच , मैडी की ड्रैग रेस पर कास्टिंग एक पुलिस-आउट थी जो "वह सब कुछ पूरा करती है जो लोग सोच सकते हैं कि एक विषम समाज को कोसने के लिए आवश्यक है, " उन्होंने ईज़ेबेल को ईमेल के माध्यम से बताया- "लोग" का अर्थ आम जनता है जो विचित्र राजनीति और पहचान की जीवित वास्तविकताओं से अपरिचित हो सकता है। "लेकिन हम में से जो वास्तव में लोगों को बनाते हैं, शो वैश्विक स्तर पर प्रतिनिधित्व करने की कोशिश करता है, यह वास्तव में इसे प्रतिबिंबित करने के विपरीत करता है।"
"यह कास्टिंग विकल्प दिखाता है कि शो का परिप्रेक्ष्य वास्तव में कितना कामुक है," ह्यूगो ग्ररल ने कहा , एक राजा जिसने हाल ही में न्यूजीलैंड का हाउस ऑफ ड्रैग जीता था । "उनके दिमाग में, पुरुष वे लोग हैं जो सबसे अच्छा खींचते हैं। यह बकवास के रूप में समस्याग्रस्त है।" लूइस साइफर ने जोर देकर कहा कि रानियां अक्सर उनके जैसे राजाओं की हिमायत करती हैं। "यह सिर्फ RuPaul है। मुझे नहीं लगता कि उसने अभी तक एक ऐसा देखा है जिसे वह काफी पसंद करता है, ईमानदार होने के लिए। ”
यह उग्र असंतोष कहीं से नहीं निकला है। अब सालों से, ड्रैग रेस की समावेशिता की कमी पर विवाद छिड़ा हुआ है । 2017 में, पेपरमिंट शो में शामिल होने वाली पहली ट्रांस महिला रानी बनीं। अगले वर्ष, RuPaul से गार्जियन ने पूछा कि एक ट्रांस महिला रानी कैसे हो सकती है। RuPaul ने स्पष्ट किया कि पेपरमिंट ने शो में प्रतिस्पर्धा करने से पहले अभी तक "वास्तव में संक्रमण" नहीं किया था, और जोर देकर कहा, "आप एक महिला के रूप में पहचान सकते हैं और कह सकते हैं कि आप संक्रमण कर रहे हैं, लेकिन जब आप अपना शरीर बदलना शुरू करते हैं तो यह बदल जाता है। यह एक अलग बात लेता है; यह हम जो कर रहे हैं उसकी पूरी अवधारणा को बदल देता है।"
इन गुमराह करने वाली टिप्पणियों को तीव्र प्रतिक्रिया मिली , और RuPaul ने एक माफीनामा जारी किया। बाद के वर्षों में, ड्रैग रेस ने समावेशिता के मोर्चे पर स्पष्ट प्रयास किए। ड्रैग रेस यूके के पहले सीज़न ने स्केयरडी कैट को कास्ट किया, जो इसकी पहली खुले तौर पर उभयलिंगी प्रतियोगी थी। इसके दूसरे सीज़न के लिए, बिमिनी बॉन बौलाश और गिन्नी लेमन, दोनों गैर-बाइनरी कलाकार शामिल हुए, और तीसरे सीज़न में विक्टोरिया स्कोन रानी के रूप में दौड़ में प्रवेश करने वाली पहली समलैंगिक समलैंगिक बन गईं। अमेरिका में पिछले साल के सीज़न में शो के पहले ट्रांस मैन प्रतियोगी गोटमिक को देखा गया था। दूसरों के बीच, ये मिसालें बेहद सकारात्मक हैं।
But further questions over the show remain, and nobody could pretend it broadcasts real representation. This reality is obvious in the fact that only persons pantomiming femininity—drag queens—have been accepted into the race. In other words, where are all the drag kings?
Performers have been challenging the age-old sentiment that men are the best interpreters of drag for nearly 200 years in the United States. At certain times, these performers gained notoriety for their work, even fame. But the whims of a patriarchal society—founded on fragile, easily bruised masculinity—are always mercurial. Time and again those who made it into the spotlight were pushed back into the shadows when they crossed the line from novelty, to a legitimate threat to the powers that be.
In terms of the historical archive, “drag kings” are relatively recent—Drag King History says the term first appeared in print in 1972. “Male impersonation,” however, dates back to the 1870s in America, when it became a wildly popular theatrical craft that attracted both straight and queer women alike for its potential to offer versatility on the American variety stage. Through impersonation, they could abandon the limited roles permitted to actresses at the time; they could be comedic and entertain audiences into old age. But according to Jack Halberstam, a professor of gender studies and English at Columbia University, being a drag king (or in this case, male impersonator) was considered “a kind of threatening performance” within a patriarchal society. “If femininity is a devalued form of expression,” he told Jezebel, “then anyone can get in on it. But if masculinity is a protected and privileged form of expression, then there will be restrictions on who can do it.”
For a time, caricaturing the top of the social order—wealthy, upper-class white men—made 19th century male impersonators a hit amongst middle-class and working-class men, said Gillian Rodger, author of the magisterial Just One of the Boys: Female-to-Male Cross-Dressing on the American Variety Stage. The attention the craft’s luminaries received was huge, and its big stars—figures such as Annie Hindle and Ella Wesner—made lucrative careers appearing on cigarette adverts and modeling male clothes. Thousands of young women purchased posters and wrote adoring letters to them.
Their days were always numbered. “The men, and their willingness to see caricatures of themselves, determined the popularity of the impersonators,” Elyssa Goodman, author of the upcoming book Glitter and Concrete about drag history in New York, told Jezebel. In moments of socio-economic tension between the lower and upper classes, such as the Long Depression and the Prohibition, and in moments of artistic proliferation, such as the Harlem Renaissance and the Pansy Craze, male impersonation was in vogue. Conversely, when masculinity was either threatened or had undergone trauma—like during women’s suffrage, the Great Depression, and the post-WWI period—male audiences grew disinterested in seeing it made fun of. Bound by such patriarchal restrictions, male impersonators fell out of favor. The most crushing blow seemed to come in the 1930s, when Hollywood published a list of self-censorship that de facto included cross-dressing. Male impersonation could no longer exist in the limelight—be it on the stage or the silver screen.
This is not to say that the tradition died; Rodger pointed out that while it was no longer acceptable for white, American theater performers, many considered “other” or “exotic” enough were able to waive the rules. Foreigners like Greta Garbo and Marlene Dietrich, for example, appeared in films in three-piece suits. But it was the Black community that best maintained and reinterpreted the tradition of male impersonation through the 20th century. In Harlem’s cabarets, audiences were thrilled by the queer and trans performances of singers like Gladys Bentley. Shaped by the Harlem Renaissance and openly lesbian, Bentley dressed as a man both on the street and the stage, performed for Black and white audiences alike, and frequented famous venues like the Apollo and the Cotton Club. She was one of the highest-paid Black woman of her time, yet she was not immune to the fragility of social expectations; during the vindictive years of McCarthyism, she took to wearing dresses. In 1939, the Jewel Box Review, America’s first racially inclusive traveling cabaret, hit the road with 25 female impersonators and, crucially, one male impersonator: Stormé DeLarverie, who served as its MC in the ‘50s and ‘60s. She befriended Billie Holiday, was photographed by Diane Arbus, and—rumor has it—threw the punch that ignited the Stonewall Riots.
Male impersonation also found an unlikely home in venues operated by the Mafia. With the end of Prohibition, speakeasies were no longer necessary, but serving alcohol to homosexuals remained illegal, so the mob started running gay and lesbian nightclubs. It was a solid, bilateral trade: The mob got their money, and the queers had their spaces, free from harassment. In lesbian bars located in the West Village, it was often the case that both wait staff and performers were male impersonators. Blackie Dennis, often compared to Frank Sinatra, was both a popular employer and an important nightclub headliner of the time.
The dark days of the AIDs crisis molded modern-day kings, according to Halberstam. As AIDS tore through the gay community, many gay men were hesitant to frequent clubs. “In San Francisco,” Halberstam said, “there were a series of very high-profile gay clubs where you wouldn’t even see women before the AIDS crisis. During the crisis, Friday night was given over to women, because that’s what the crisis meant. Men were not going out.” At these “women’s nights,” queens like Mistress Formika began to take women under their wing to train them in the art of drag. At the same time, drag queen performance was about “protest, visibility, and defiance,” said Goodman, as much as it was about “people just having a good time in the face of devastation.” The moment, she argued, “was a siren call to be yourself and create what you wanted to create, however you wanted to do it, and live however you wanted to live—because tomorrow you could be dead.”
The queens passed on their skills in drag, as well as that siren call to be oneself, to the kings, who answered in kind. Through costume, makeup, and performance—the influences of Johnny Science and Diane Torr were pivotal here—the ‘90s drag king generation emerged. Up until this point, impersonation had been about accurately depicting a man. Kinging was about interpreting, defining, and challenging masculine roles often through caricature or exaggeration. Mo B. Dick, a founding father of the modern drag king movement, famously said, “Instead of being an angry woman, I became a funny man.”
In 1995, Mo B. Dick opened Club Casanova in New York, the first weekly variety show dedicated to kings. It became an instant sensation; Halberstam recalls photographers and New York Times journalists jostling for front row positions at 2 a.m. on Sunday night, with every performer firmly confident of their immediate stardom. However, despite the club’s large crowds and success (albeit short-term; it didn’t last two years), Halberstam said, “Audiences want camp…and straight audiences did not get the sexiness of queer masculinity.” They struggled to understand what they were seeing. “[They] wanted the big reveal at the end—the equivalent of the drag queen pulling her wig off.” Soon enough, the straight contingent lost interest in the kings, and journalists went off in search of the next party to crash.
In the intervening years, drag as an artform has skyrocketed in popularity. Within this zeitgeist, the kings have come back into the spotlight. The media, capricious as it may be, has returned to courting them, too: In the last year, the Guardian, them, and the New York Times all but cited them as the hottest new thing in drag. But, historically speaking, we have seen similar moments where they (or iterations of them) became wildly successful, garnering fame, fans, and wealth, before it stopped. The constraints of western patriarchal society said, “Okay, you’ve had your fun being a man, it’s time to stop now. You’ve gone too far.” And what the patriarchy says, goes. The burning flame of drag kinging gets tamped down.
RuPaul’s continued dismissal of them tamps down that flame once again, right when it is vital for kings (and things, and queens, and anyone who doesnt fit RuPaul’s plastic, candy commercial mold) to fight for visibility on this globally recognized stage. Taking this stage would be part of an overall activism against the kinds of forces that have suppressed them in the past. It would, by extension, prevent history from repeating itself.
As both a performer and showrunner, RuPaul has transformed drag into a livelihood, with practitioners constantly upping their game to near Olympic levels of innovation, showmanship, and craft. It’s therefore surprising to learn that drag queens as a mainstream form of entertainment—at least as we’ve seen it in the last 30 years—is a relatively new phenomenon.
Things were tenuous for queens when RuPaul released her iconic music video for “Supermodel (You Better Work)” in 1992, her first major breakthrough. In 1995, the designer behind RuPaul’s costumes filmed a Levi’s commercial in drag, which the American media collectively refused to air on network television. Though popular 1990s movies like To Wong Foo, The Birdcage, and even Mrs. Doubtfire, and documentary Paris Is Burning, had depicted queens with differing levels of sympathy and integrity, it was still considered a practice that existed in the margins of society, “seriously frowned upon even within the queer community,” according to Goodman. Suddenly, with the premiere of The RuPaul Show on VH1 in 1996, Americans had a drag queen in their living room interviewing Cher and Diana Ross. “People saw that making a living in drag was in some way possible,” Goodman said, and drag performers began coming out of the woodwork.
Then came Drag Race, which premiered in early 2009. Immediately it was a sensation, encouraging a new generation to embrace and express their LGBTQ+ identities, many of them through drag. The framework it deployed, however, fundamentally was structured around cisgender males performing femininity, distorting the general public’s perception of what drag was, and the range of genders, races, and ethnicities who could perform it. Simply put, men performed drag, and drag = drag queens.
But in Britain, you’ll find Sigi Moonlight, a chameleon king who can expertly transform into a series of characters: the Kung Fu master sporting a fu manchu, the 1920s boxer with an old-timey unitard, the Korean dictator, and the gangster, to name a few. In America, people can be amazed by Landon Cider, a contemporary “monster” king and makeup artist whose mind-boggling transformations include an alien with iridescent eyes the size of kiwis, a yellow-fanged gremlin, and a bloodied white bunny. In a 2021 interview with the New York Times, Mo B. Dick heralded this new generation: “These kids today, I’m pleased at how extraordinary they are,” he said. “Now, there’s more artistry and more makeup. Being a king is more ‘draggy.’ The showmanship is phenomenal.” All can see Drag Race’s oversimplification does not meet the real quality of kings out there today.
Anyone can be a drag king, queen, or thing (yes, there are drag things; aliens, mythical creatures, you name it). The result of this is a glorious mess—a cacophony of performance styles manifested through varied groups participating in a craft that espouses freedom of expression, individual creativity, and shifting identities. When Drag Race, and other pageants, exclude them, the implication does not only seem to be that their interpretations of drag are invalid, but so too is their LGBTQ+ identity. After all, dragging has historically been a safe, queer space to express the self.
Major drag competitions are already making the shift to broader inclusivity. In 2018, Hugo Grrrl won House of Drag. In 2019, Landon Cider won Dragula and was crowned “World’s Next Drag Supermonster.” Prinx CHIYO, an Afro-Latinx drag king, became the first trans person to compete in the Mr. Gay World. Prinx Silver took the scene by storm in 2019 after winning silver in the Gold Rush and runner-up in the Man Up competitions. In 2021, drag queen superstars Alaska and Lola LeCroix welcomed kings into Alaska’s Drag Queen of the Year. “Lola and I initially set out to do this pageant as an experiment,” Alaska told Entertainment Weekly. “What would happen if we held a competition that welcomed all different types of drag performers, regardless of their gender identity or anatomy or history—all on the same stage?” Last year, Tenderoni took home the prize. And on Hulu’s Life and Beth, HBO’s Somebody Somewhere, and Fox’s Welcome to Flatch you’ll find Murray Hill is making drag king TV history.
In a recent article for Metro, celebrity queen from Drag Race UK Bimini Bon Boulash said, “There needs to be kings on there.” Yet many—scholars, audience members, drag performers—express skepticism over the need to bother with RuPaul at all. If other competitions welcome them, the argument goes, why do they need Drag Race? After all, it’s just a single show. “Separate but equal doesn’t work,” Beau Jangles said. For him, it is a question of resources and space: “[They] will not be allocated to us the way they are allocated to shows like Drag Race. We are not starting off with an equal platform.”
There is profound truth to this, not least because the show has an enormous economic impact on the drag industry. “She positions herself as the gatekeeper of drag,” Beau Jangles said of RuPaul. “The be all and end all! What she says is, drag goes.” Denying kings the same platform has a genuine “trickle-down” effect that damages local scenes and tanks opportunities for drag kings, he argued. “On a regional and local level, booking agents look to what Drag Race chooses as an example of who to select for their gigs. If a minority drag performer is left out of the show, they struggle to get hired. They are, in effect, a less valuable commodity.”
You could also ask: If Drag Race is organized around the pantomime of women, how could the show be reoriented to include a pantomime of men? The layout of the pageants would, according to Hugo Grrrl, look “exactly the same!” “We fundamentally do the same art form. There wouldn’t need to be any change to the format of shows like this for drag kings to be easily included, perhaps only a long-overdue update to the gendered language often used.” Tenderoni wants “more creative-based challenges” like sewing, painting, and dancing added to Drag Race so kings and queens could compete together. “This would show [the world] a lot of the hard work it takes behind the scenes to do drag.”
Hard work, indeed—and hard work that has been performed for at least the past two centuries in this country by impersonators and kings, whether in or out of favor. Historically, it has been cisgender, straight men who, after losing interest in seeing their masculinity parodied, closed the doors of opportunity to impersonators. One may wonder who is doing the gatekeeping and the barring today. Studio executives? Straight audiences who favor queens? Or is it a contingent of the cisgender, gay male population who cannot accept drag kinging as a valuable craft?
As Goodman put it, “A person in drag is always punk rock, a fuck you to misogyny.” Indeed, the pageantry of drag kings, drag things, drag monsters, enby, afab, and disabled performers, is an exhibition of their vibrant presences in our contemporary, patriarchal landscape where, let’s face it, masculinity could use some parodying. If RuPaul were to welcome a broader range of performers onto her show—opening the doors of the mainstream—it would be an act of defiance in the face of misogynists, transphobes, and state legislators who, ultimately, want us all back in the closet . It would be a brilliant reminder of the old adage that unity is strength.
अमांडा चेमेचे एडिनबर्ग और एनवाईसी के बीच रहने वाले एक कतार लेखक और लोक संगीतकार हैं। येल और ट्रिनिटी कॉलेज डबलिन के पूर्व छात्र, वे वर्तमान में अपनी पहली पुस्तक पर काम कर रहे हैं और कोलंबिया विश्वविद्यालय में एक क्रिएटिव राइटिंग एमएफए पूरा कर रहे हैं।
