By Billy Van Parys
Wigstock is serious business. Just ask Lady Bunny. On a recent afternoon, the event’s esteemed founder was waxing nostalgic over the 1990 Wigstock memorial tribute she’d organized in honor of the downtown performance artists Ethyl Eichelberger and International Chrysis. There she was the lady remembers, in the midst of yet another ordeal at Thompkins Square, her infamous hypoglycemic fit during Wigstock ’87 (we won’t go into it, except to say that all drag queens were NOT created equal) still fresh in far too many minds. This time Bunny was apoplectic because the giant balloon –suspended wig she had launched was bound for the trees rather than the heavens. As Bunny spastically watched the wig’s progress, the audience was convinced she was heading headlong into the grips of Tourette’s syndrome.
“I wince when I watch that scene on videotape,” she confesses.”Instead of being stately, all I see is myself barking ‘NO! NO! Keep passing! Keep passing! I wanted the crowd to move the balloons over so they wouldn’t get stuck in the trees. It kind of ruined it for me.”
But Bunny is never one to – well almost never – leave her fans with a bad taste in their mouths. The instant her dutiful mission was accomplished, her faux-ditz demeanor took over once more, and Wigstock resumed its wacky and well-executed course. The balloons went up, and the Lady’s spirits soared. “It was touching,” she demurs. “Lord knows those queens can’t get enough recognition.”
Which at Wigstock is the name of the game. Recognition is what mainstream pop culture has begun to bestow on Wigstock Generation drag as it impacts music and fashion – everything from Deee-Lite to décolletage. It is the obscure object of desire craved by the talented, self-promoting drag queens who reign over the city’s second largest annual gay event. For the past nine years Bunny and her collaborator, artist Scott Lifshutz, Have nurtured this off beat love fest from obscure parody into a world-renowned “rambunctious outdoor dragfest, unparalleled “fashion” spectacle and sick-a-delic spiritual gathering.” And along the way, Wigstock has revolutionized drag while promoting an entirely new cultural aesthetic.
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photos: Krasner/Trebitz |
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In 1984, the light of day was a concept foreign to most denizens of the East Village’s Pyramid Club. One night , Brian Butterick, Michael “Kitty” Ullman, Wendy Wild, several members of the Fleshtones and “ a few half baked trannies” closed the club and, six packs in tow, took to the stage of the Thompkins Square bandshell. There someone suggested having a drag oriented parody of Woodstock.
“I guess the idea would have vanished right then and there, but I was into the idea of outdoor things.” After participating in Tom Rubnitz’s glittery Drag Queen Marathon, Bunny wanted to unveil a new dimension to drag. “I didn’t want it to be just running around in limousines being fabulous, because I didn’t think that was where it was at.” Where it was at , she believed was on the stage, and, since every queen knows all the world’s a stage, Bunny was determined to explore beyond the confines of 101 Avenue A.
“I wanted to organize some kind of performance because I think the combination of drag and daylight is so outrageous and freaky,” she explains. Hysterical perhaps but historical as well. “Drag is a bona fide theatrical device that has been used since the beginning of time,” she lectures, “be it Greek classical drama, or Shakespeare, or whatever.”
“Wig stock is not about Lizas. It’s more about Bunnys and Billys [Erb] and Sisters [ Dimension],” says Wigstock generation designer Todd Oldham, who in 1987 named his holiday collection after “Lypsinka, Tabboo!”, “The trannies that have slipped into the true mainstream can’t hold a candle to the genius that Wigstock has to offer.
“Wigstock grew out of the new gay aesthetic,” explains Lifshutz, “a postmodern gayness that’s totally media-wise, and informed about everything. The old gay community was informed by Hollywood, and only Hollywood. This is all about TV, and art, and each other. And the Pyramid, where this started, was like the hub of that whole new expression.”
Over the years , the emergence of trash drag, bunny’s penchant for “a crappy, idiot act” and the ever-changing scene has pruned much of the Woodstock from Wigstock. Bands faded from the scene. Neo-psychedelia died twice. The dawn of the diva descended. House and dance music took over. The sounds of Deee-Lite and Ultra Nate usurped those of John Kelly doing Joni Mitchell and Jelly Joplin. In the process Wigstock developed a character all its own. “It doesn’t need to be so much of a parody anymore.” Says Bunny. “A lot of people see Wigstock as an uplifting spiritual thing, like a hipper version of Gay Pride Day. Besides, what faggot doesn’t want to see a black female vocalist wailing away?”
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photo: Michael O'brien |
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Whatever the reasons for its success, as the crowds and caliber of the show continue to grow, so do the expenses and amount of time needed to organize the event. Who would have imagined it would come to this?
“It’s been a crash course in bureaucracy,” Lifshutz says.”who knew anything about a vending license? I thought you could just go into a parka and sell things.” Meanwhile, Wigstock’s budget has skyrocketed. “We’ve decided to get serious,” Lifshutz says. The event has put out for a 2 million dollar liability insurance policy, a $10,000 stage and sound system and $2500 for professionally printed programs – and this doesn’t even begin to address Bunny’s gowns and wigs. (Lifshutz points out that Bunny always needs at least three on her head every year)
