Neo-Burlesque: Feminist Success or ‘Post-Feminist’ Tool of Subjugation?

Neo-Burlesque:

Feminist Success or ‘Post-Feminist’ Tool of Subjugation?

For my second event paper for this class, I attended a Lili’s Burlesque benefit show entitled Save Our Seas hosted by the Music Box Theater. The local burlesque troop had invited several out of state performers to construct a burlesque show to benefit those affected by the recent catastrophic BP oil spill. While initially hesitant on whether or not to consider a burlesque show a form of art, I believe for several reasons burlesque can be considered art. For one, these dancers possess a specific body knowledge that they have trained for and perfected, much like they way an artists possesses (in most cases, but not all) a unique, personal skill. Secondly, the show does elicit a reaction from the audience, even if that reaction is frequently arousal. Furthermore, the show not only featured burlesque performers but also live music, a lively host, and some comedy—giving the space for the show to be considered art in the sense that it is a larger piece constructed of smaller units to form a whole.

In analyzing the show from a feminist lens, there are several key points that I would like to discuss. The first of these points is the use of the word “virgin” by the show’s host to describe those who had never seen a burlesque show before. Secondly, I would like to discuss gender and representation in the show.

When I arrived at the Music Box Theater, I noticed that there crowd there was a very diverse mix. Local scene-sters, older couples, gay/lesbian couples, upper class people, non-white people, and their ages ranged from about 18 to 75. As we gathered in the theatre for the show to start, I felt that the crowd was buzzing with excitement for the upcoming ‘treat’ of burlesque, comedy, and striptease. The lights went down and Nadine DuBois entered the stage. Nadine DuBois was our host for the evening. She told us to leave our “Lutheran” upbringing out side the theater and to hoot and holler when we saw something she liked. I found the next thing she said very interesting: she asked the crowd if there were any ‘virgins’ in the theater. She defined virgin as someone who had never seen a Burlesque show before, but the underlying context was someone who had never seen a naked female body before. I, having never been to a burlesque show, was considered a ‘virgin’ in the theater and realized quickly that this term is used frequently throughout the community. This surprised me: are we not inundated with images of the female body on daily basis? What makes this situation so unique? Why has such an open community (at least from an outsider’s perspective) adopted such a heavily connoted word? Was I about to ‘lose something I could never retrieve’? I didn’t think so.

The next interesting thing that happened was a male burlesque dancer. After several female performers, a member of the Stage Door Johnnies, an all male burlesque troop from Chicago, took the stage. The male was comedically stylized as an Italian baker. The show was meant to be more funny than sexy and ended with the dancer fully naked on stage with only a sign saying “Kiss the Cook” covering his penis. The addition of these male acts to the show complicated the experience for me. Men, who are constructed as being uncomfortable with viewing the male form for fear of accusations of being gay, were warned that there were going to be male dancers in the show before it started. Women were not warned that they must be comfortable with their sexuality in order to watch the female performers. As the show continued on, two more male performers preformed individually, one danced while a member of Lili’s sang, and then the Stage Door Johnnies preformed together. With each performance, the comedy of the male dancer was played down and his sexuality increased. All the shows dances ended with the reveal of either the breasts (with pasties over the nipples) or a completely naked man with something covering his penis and testicles. The men and the women were, thus, essentially equalized in the show. The ‘art’ of the show was undressing in a pleasing, clever, athletic, and unexpected way. The reveal, however, was always the same. The burlesque acts done by men compared to how they were done by women were structurally very similar, aside from the fact that the bodies of the women usually remained adorned in some way at the time of the reveal. Another difference was the fact that the male acts needed to warm the audience by using comedy first (and injecting comedy intermittently) in order to not alienate the audience—both men and women, who are not used to viewing the male form presented in such a way.

I kept wondering to myself: “What makes this different?” What makes burlesque different from porn or the images of the female body that are circulated in pop culture? Certainly, all of the dancer’s body shapes were different (there was no one approaching the “Kentucky Fried Chicken” performer, however), so it challenged the idea that all women in order to be sexy must be thin, white, and blonde. But, were they portraying an authentic form of sexuality? I didn’t think so. They all seemed to have the same coy expression, the same goal, and the same outcome from the audience. Furthermore, all the women used stage names, and while I don’t think this is a bad thing necessarily, it creates an abstraction from their actual selves. The collection of this burlesque show, while titillating and somewhat enjoyable, did not seem to advance the image of women or liberate women sexuality in the way that I would expect a feminist-informed sex-positive show to do. The women were still objects—the illusion of the show is that the performer is presenting an authentic sexuality. But it is, by definition, an abstraction from authentic sexuality. There is a disconnect from the real and from the act. It is hopeful to think that burlesque presents a revolution in the way women are represented, but I think that it is a post-feminist ideology more than anything that promotes this. The idea exists that because the dancer is in control of the show, that then they have control over their body. It is true that they have control over how they proceed with the show—their choices about the way the dress or undress. I think, however, that because the dancer’s shows were all similarly structured, toned, and presented the illusion of authentic sexuality is maintained but the act of the dance is still controlled by the viewer, and more specifically the male gaze. Furthermore, while the male dancers added flavor to the show, their sexuality and their bodies where essentially dealt with in the same way. They, too, were turned into objects. While this is equalizing, it certainly does not represent a liberated representation of human sexuality, which I feel is so central to freeing our culture from the control of the patriarchy.

I feel that a similarity can be drawn between José Esteabn Muñoz’s discussion of drag in The White to Be Angry. In this article, it is stated:

Commercial drag presents a sanitized and desexualized queer subject for mass consumption. Such drag represents a certain strand of integrationalist liberal pluralism. The sanitized queen is mean to be enjoyed as an entertainer who will hopefully lead to social understanding and tolerance. Unfortunately, this boom is filmic and televisual drag has had no impact on hate legislation put forth by the New Right or on homophobic violence on the nation’s streets. Indeed, this “boom” in drag helps no one understand that a liberal-pluralist mode of political strategizing only eventuates a certain absorption and nothing like a productive engagement with difference (221).

It is similar with the spectacle and circus of the burlesque show. Under the guise of the palatable activism of raising money for the Gulf Coast, the strip tease is made available for here for consumption. However, it is clear by burlesque’s more general integration in pop culture (like Lady Marmalade as portrayed by Christina Aguilera, Pink, Mya, and Lil’ Kim) that burlesque in general is meant for larger mass consumption. It is the idea that female sexuality can be integrated in the heteronormative narrative without threatening the status quo. The burlesque performance does nothing, in this instance in particular, to present an authentic form of female sexuality. And, to further parallel Esteabn Muñoz, does nothing to politically and legally advance the placement of women in western society under the eyes of the law. The Equal Rights Amendment still has not passed and violence against women is still an all to frequent occurrence.

In conclusion, I had high hopes for Lili’s Burlesque Revue. I thought that the show would challenge frequent representations of women. It did not accomplish this and, overall, I felt that the praise that neo-burlesque hails from across the country only represents a ‘post-feminist’ sense of womanhood that betrays the reality of the positionality of female sexuality and our continued subjugation by the male gaze.