Is there hope beyond homogenisation for drag? Is it really dead? Can she be resuscitated? And who’s going to give him mouth-to-mouth? (The original lip-sync for your life). And was drag murdered by the one who claimed to love her most? RuPaul - I’m bringing you in for questioning.
RIP. Another great artform, another subculture that has been engulfed into the mainstream and spat out caked in the slime of commercialisation and its backbone mysteriously missing. If you’re reading this, it would be highly unlikely that you have not in some way engaged with the lineage of RuPaul’s Drag Race and her many lesser loved children (read: franchises). Drag, a once underground, cutting-edge display of gender nonconformity, queer defiance and radical anarchy against the violence of the state, police and their racist abuses, has been sold off to the big boys and will probably soon be jetting into space with new queen on the block: Shelon Muskulinity. (Is this libel? Please don’t read my blog Elon, there is nothing for you here).
Is there hope beyond homogenisation for drag? Is it really dead? Can she be resuscitated? And who’s going to give him mouth-to-mouth? (The original lip-sync for your life). And was drag murdered by the one who claimed to love her most? RuPaul - I’m bringing you in for questioning.
My checklist for good drag:
1. Are you entertained? (I use this word broadly, not just humour but astonishment, delight, surprise, anticipation, disgust, disbelief, inspiration etc).
2. Is it subverting your expectations?
3. Does it take root in survival, community, celebration or the political?
My checklist feels well captured in this quote by Toni Cade Bambara: “The role of the artist is to make the revolution irresistible.”
Before proceeding to the potential causes of death/affirmations of good health, it is important to remember to question who can really call themselves the arbiter of drag succeeding or failing? It would be pretty remiss of me, in the fight against homogeneity to instill my ponderings as ‘rules’ for whether the artform has died a death. So please remember that this is an opinion piece.
Drag is not dead!
Drag is celebrated more than ever by audiences across the globe. The RuPaul franchise enables drag queens in countries the world over to exhibit their talents and gain recognition, success and maybe a paycheck, creating more opportunities than ever for drag queens to build a career. Further inspiring more televised drag, platforming a wider array of styles and gender expressions. Not only that but these queer artists are being celebrated and adored by a vast range of audiences, it’s not a niche special interest of the queer community but everyone and their mum are watching it. Drag is accessible to all, it’s on your telly - BBC IPlayer is free if you don’t pay your TV licence! Isn’t that the aim? To reach wide audiences? To gain acceptance from non-queers? Queer art has won, we won’t be sidelined anymore!
Oh, yes it is!
Despite great successes, there seems to be a murky path forward for televised queens. When the show’s over and the next season has begun, how can these artists create a career trajectory that supports them to keep working? It seems there are limited opportunities for these artists to continue developing and growing? On the other hand, when drag is taken out of the dingy queer club and put on a screen, it becomes more about the hyper-individualist’s career success rather than the collective liberation of a community. Then there’s the trickle down death, the creeping death: when drag becomes boring. If we
understand RuPaul as The Arbiter of Good Drag, then drag artists become a bunch of mimics, hoping with enough emulation of her style that success might come for us too, rather than celebrating the broadchurch of an artform with endless possibilities. How can drag be alive when it isn’t inclusive? The prioritisation of drag queens in televised formats only upholds the systems of inequality and increases barriers to opportunities for drag artists who are women or minorities. Though as minority groups know too well, increased visibility rarely comes with increased protection or safety. With greater public adoration comes greater potential for criticism or worse violence, queerphobia, racism, ableism, fatphobia or misogyny. Watching drag on telly isn’t allyship.
If drag is dead, then I think it would make a really good fertiliser. In the mulch, at the bottom of the compost heap, new draglings are being born. It’s dark down there and they are squished very close together. But they are happy and beautiful things start to grow. They are connected, though the compost heap is rarely wheelchair accessible. Drag artists deserve recognition, pay and celebration for their work. To save drag we must keep fertilising the soil and nurturing the new growth. Reimagine those dark basements. Imagine drag beyond competitions. Imagine a drag career beyond getting on TV. Imagine again drag as an anarchic tool to dismantle systems of oppression. The immense power and possibility that drag holds is indisputable, as an artform and as a political tool, and often both. To save drag (and ourselves) from both violence (and mediocrity), we must return to the checklist. If we entertain and subvert whilst being grounded in our root of survival, community, celebration or the political, then what we offer ourselves, our audiences, our detractors and the world is much much richer, and hopefully very very entertaining.
Mon 29th April - Saturday 3rd May 7:15pm
Tickets £12 - £18 (+ booking fee)
