Get Those Dollars Out

Since I came into burlesque in the Boston, I'd noticed that there was a very distinct performance culture here. Boston burlesque performers tend to be more theatrical, tend to bring the strange into the mainstream, and are generally group-oriented in how they advertise. It wasn't until I started performing outside of Boston that I began to realize that we had a very interesting stance on tipping, which is hardly reflected elsewhere.

I had been performing about 3 1/2 years before I was a part of a show where the patrons were asked to tip the performers.

I was definitely a little confused when I'd first heard the host setting that expectation with the audience. I wasn't against it per se; I did have a rudimentary understanding that making any kind of money as a performer was and always would be a hustle. I had worked restaurant gigs since I was 16, so I full well understood how tipping worked. I just had never been party to a producer linking that to performance.

As an integrated part of burlesque performing, the concept makes perfect sense. If the performer really blows your socks off, you throw them a bit of extra money to show your appreciation. Ergo, your performance can have an influence on how well you do that night. That's capitalism, baby!

"I mean, I thought that's how we were supposed to fix the economy."

It reminded me of the one time I accompanied a friend of mine who was about to be married to a strip club. The biggest thing that stuck out to me about the way the strip club's economy worked was that every part of our visit was commodified. There was a cover charge when you entered, you were expected to have smaller bills to tip the dancers, buying drinks had its own set of permissions and rates, and individual women were soliciting separate engagements from the patrons.

In this setting, it seemed to me that the actions of the performers were directly tied to whether or not a patron was luring them over with money. Initially, this seems like a different thing from burlesque performance entirely--you're expected to have a set of specific choreography with movements that comprise a routine. In order to have the right punch, your act has to be rehearsed and well timed. If you're collecting dollar bills every couple of seconds, it's hard to imagine that you can execute a planned set of dance moves. It would have to be more improvisational.

I performed at a gig recently with Brandy Wine and Polly Surely of Rogue Burlesque, and it was a paid event where tipping was encouraged. Although the crowd was a room full of drunk DJ's who were mostly dudes (I'll talk about performing for hetero males who are only experiencing their first burlesque show in a later post), there was a strong element of loud-crowd dollar-chucking appreciation, which has a slightly different feel than the whole "pass the basket in church" sort of tipping I had been acclimated with in other burlesque shows. It felt kind of like that scene in Magic Mike where Matthew McConaughey rolls around in dollars wearing a cowboy hat and a thong. It was a gritty kind of party atmosphere--which I kind of loved, not gonna lie.

Don't pretend you haven't seen it.

Because I was doing a routine that I had done about 40 times before, I felt like I had the ability to change things up when needed and accommodate the dollar bills being thrown around near me. I knew that I could skip one of my flourishes with my hat and instead bend over all sexy-like while scooping dollars up and stuffing them into my waistband. You know, the kinds of things that the layman associates with striptease.

Like glitter!

I was chatting with my friend Honey Pie, who I had performed with at a show a year or two ago where tipping was encouraged. The show itself was more of a "buy a $20 ticket, drink a ton to help us hit our bar minimum" sort of theatrical experience which was hosted by a character contributing to the performance, and so it wouldn't have made a ton of sense for people to leave their seats, approach the stage, and fling dollars at the performers.

"I feel like there is a time and a place for it. I have done shows with tipping but it has always been more of a Go-Go set in a night club than a show done in a theater where most of the patrons are sitting down watching a show," Honey told me.

"And I think that's where I don't feel like tipping should happen in Burlesque shows. Most of these shows patrons are paying more money to sit down and take in the beauty of the theater and performers. I myself don't want someone throwing money in crumpled up balls at me or walking up to the stage handing me money while I am up there working my ass of on the hours of choreography I have practiced and the time I put into making that costume look good for you. Sit back, drink and take in the show! I also don't like to see it while I'm taking in the sights of a performance on stage. It's distracting and takes away from the performance art," she said.

Honey Pie

Honey made a great point about gogo dancing, which, as I've learned from doing shows outside of Boston (most prominently D20 Burlesque in NYC with Anja Keister and friends, plug plug!), is pretty much the standard in-between and intro activity for burlesque shows. A dancer can make a good amount of tips doing largely improvisational choreography as a component of a burlesque show's program. But I would hesitate to call go-go dancing a burlesque performance. 

Burlesque, like any other artform, needs support from the patrons to continue. Burlesque fans and show-goers should have extra opportunities to support the performers they enjoy (aside from ticket revenue), and I think that having a gogo set or two and having a basket at every show is a great way for performers to continue to fund their costume, travel, and meal costs.

It's the "stuffing dollars into my underwear" aesthetic that makes me feel a little heeby-jeebly about performing certain engagements. It's a different implication entirely, which stems from what the average person might picture in club-based striptease--I've seen audience members get tossed from burlesque shows because their actions were clearly influenced by strip-club culture. Taking it a bit further, tipping mechanics have a great impact on proper boundaries, which are an inseparable component of burlesque striptease. Generally, most burlesque performers don't want you stuffing money into their clothing pieces, and won't hesitate to let you know it.

Tipping performers is a great thing, although I don't particularly like having to work it into my performance piece. Deciding what kinds of tipping mechanics work best for you in your own performances is a good thing, and I'd encourage you to share your own best practices with me.

The Workout Paradox

One of the topics that I find goes rather unfortunately arm-in-arm with the topic of striptease performance is the issue of "working out" or "being in shape." It's the ever-present, borderline shameful, basement-level accompaniment that lurks around the corner and just out of sight when discussing an artform that glorifies near-nakedness. As my second installment of Dale's All-Male Yardsale Amateur Showcase approaches and I scour the landscape for new willing participants to perform, I am continually hearing the same reasons for apprehension that used follow me around, and I think it's high time to discuss those fears. Although I've alluded to the compulsion to work out in previous blogs, I think there's enough here to stimulate a thorough discussion in its own place.

I'd like to acknowledge that as a male-bodied performer, I have the privilege of not necessarily being judged by my appearance first and foremost. I also want to make sure I draw a clear delineation between being "physically fit" and "healthy," as I want to focus on the former for the purposes of this article. Also, those are not the same things.

The first thing I want to say to you if you're new to burlesque and thinking about performing at some point; YOU DO NOT NEED TO BE IN PHENOMENAL SHAPE TO PERFORM BURLESQUE.

Period.

...no matter WHAT the VHS boxed set says.

Every time I meet a burlesque newcomer who has only just seen a performance for the first time recently, I always encourage them to try out burlesque performance if they want to. Regardless of gender, I always get some version of the following comment in response to my suggestion;

"Oh, I have to go hit the gym for at least a few months before I would even think about trying it."

It makes me a sad to hear, mainly because despite the way we present our varied body types and abilities to the general public, their individual response is to counter with self-shame. Despite the fact that there's no fitness standard to burlesque performance (because it's not the Marines), people are still very intimidated by the mere concept of people judging their physical form. And they do--we ALL do that involuntarily, to some degree. What you're effectively doing is showing your body to a room full of strangers. Once you make peace with that, you can really do anything you want, and moving past that initial insecurity is what makes burlesque performance a truly liberating experience--NOT the state of the physical vessel you present.

I've been fortunate enough to have my own thoughts and feelings on that change over the 6 years I've been doing burlesque. While I've always been somewhat athletic, I was never in peak physical form. For some perspective, here's how I started out;

When it was just myself and two other guys several years ago, I kind of resented the idea of having to maintain a physical appearance in order to perform striptease. While the other guys looked at it as a logical progression and began to encourage me to participate in group weight lifting sessions, I grew frustrated and withdrawn.

What it really came down to was that I resented being told that I had to fit an arbitrary standard in a medium where we were, in theory, encouraged to accept each other as is, in whatever physical form we presented. I found it upsetting that before I worked on any other skills that might have helped me transcend as a performer such as dance training or flexibility, I was being told I had to make sure I was desirable enough to look at. It pissed me off.

The weird thing is, guys put a ton of pressure on each other to be physically strong and capable. Society tells men that they don't necessarily have to be pretty, but they do have to be able to fight another dude if the situation arises. Your worth as a provider and someone to be desired might have roots in how much physical labor you can perform, which is a decidedly different standard than what my female-bodied friends are expected to fit. In fact, most male burlesque that celebrates the masculine form relies on those tropes to power the acts.

....unless it's a Top Gun act, in which case all bets are off. Photo by Jon Beckley.

As it pertains to burlesque, Nina La Voix told me that being physically fit makes her a better performer on stage. "I feel like my body moves better and my self confidence levels are boosted when I'm on my regular fitness routine."

"Physical fitness can prevent injuries on stage. Taking care of your body... conditioning... knowing it's limits.. building strength... and overall body awareness in general, makes for a better performance. Your body is your tool, and you only get one." Nina said.

I would agree that training one's self physically is a great way to feel more capable about what you present to your audience, though isn't something that should ever be attached as a necessity to burlesque performance. Treating your physical self in the best way you know how is necessary for living a long life, but isn't even reomtely a stage requirement.

"Do what makes you feel like your best version of you. That's what body positivity is all about. But when the importance of being physically fit and fitting a specific body type is placed on you from others (specifically producers) that's when it is dangerous," said Philadelphia-based Taylor Sweet.

Taylor Sweet

And that's a great point, though it does help me identify some privilege I have as a male burlesque performer: I've never had to confront a producer or venue that placed an unfair standard on my body, though I do know many female performers who have. The demands that the management at Lucky Pierre's placed on Ruby Rage come immediately to mind, and it's an ugly reality to have to consider when deciding what your personal brand should be.

I'm in a male-bodied burlesque group which has a decidedly masculine aesthetic. While none of us went into the discipline thinking we were Chippendale's dancers (I even parody the rigorous Chippendale's standards in an act I perform with Butch Sassidy), we somehow incidentally each took on an ostensibly fit phenotype, and whether it's reflective of the demand that society has for our niche or a side effect of the confidence we've gained as we've leveled up our performance chops is unclear.

All this is to say that Sirlesque has a specific "brand" that we're pushing, and we each take on skills and train in certain disciplines that advance us professionally. If you're a dude who is not looking to build up a beefcake aesthetic, it really doesn't serve your purposes to head to the gym with your fellow bros 5 times a week. But if you want to learn how to do a aerial silks striptease, you might consider following in Jack Silver's footsteps and spend some time in a circus gym.

Therein lies the eponymous paradox. While I can't deny that my stage presence and confidence overall has improved due in some part to the attention I've been giving my physical form in the last couple years, I would never consider "working out" a necessary component of burlesque performance.

Similarly, Anja Keister and I had a lengthy discussion about that; "In burlesque we often say that our "bodies are our instruments" or "our tools for expression."

So it only makes sense to "customize" our product to fit the brand we provide. There are many ways to do this.

"Maybe you dress it up in fancy costumes. Maybe you paint it (makeup) and dye it to look a certain way. Maybe you get physical enhancements like breast implants or other cosmetic surgery. Maybe you take acting classes to be better at expression on stage. Maybe you take dance classes for choreography. Maybe you work out to tone, lose weight, or strengthen the body. These are all ways to customize your "burlesque product" to better sell it to an audience," said Anja.

Anja Keister, photo by Adrian Buckmaster

Anja mentioned that what resonates with her audience and fanbase is more important than hitting a specific physical characterization.

"Like if I want to sell a 'mainstream classic burlesque product,' sure, physical fitness is important. If I was doing aerial or lyra, it would be important. But, not for who I am currently selling to. I am a weird, nerdy burlesque clown. It's not a customization I "need." Sure, I want it, but want to have a product my audiences respond to," Anja said.

In looking at how I was brought into burlesque performance, I learned the importance of punchline comedy and immersive storytelling, which largely shaped what I consider important. Learning to do erotic striptease was something that I hadn't considered important at the time, but began to work into my repertoire as I honed that skill, and the physical aspect of performance was a late add in the game, as I decided I wanted the physical ability to perform acrobatic and strength-based feats as one part of my performance catalog. What I want to show on stage is a direct reflection of what I work on when I'm off stage, and only recently has physical ability been a relevant part of that.

It certainly isn't a blanket necessity for the discipline of burlesque, and I would never tell a newcomer that it's even remotely important. Now, we just need to make sure our audiences understand that, which isn't exactly a short order. This is all a part of the incipient discussion when distinguishing "burlesque" from "stripping," and a conversation we're all constantly having with the people we're seeking to educate.