It felt as if the sensation of Maddy’s casting upstaged this historic moment. In an email with Jezebel, Tenderoni said, “I think Maddy could show a different perspective and might even introduce some viewers into a different concept of what drag culture really is: a mixed bag.” Yet few noticed that Kerri Colby and Kornbread “The Snack” Jeté were also cast, making it the first time that two trans women of color would compete at once. Maddy Morphosis’s right to be a queen wasn’t the debate for many kings. “I’ve heard many performers who do fit the Drag Race mold, even some who have been on the show, sigh at its lack of inclusion.”Īmong Drag Race’s fourteen drag queen contestants this year was Maddy Morphosis, the first cisgender, straight man to join the show. “I’m not sure if I could name you a single drag king who thinks that Drag Race is in any way a true, inclusive reflection of drag as it is,” Beau Jangles told Jezebel. For the past decade and a half, one drag queen after another has fought for this title, while dynamic drag kings like Beau Jangles, Tenderoni, and Oedipussi Rex remain absent from our screens, hidden in the most part from the mainstream. Yet, one cannot help but sense the repetition. To be sure, they are masters of their craft, talented figures of joy who have worked hard to get to this stage. The candidates-drag queens of every stripe-sashay and vogue through the show. It’s mid-April, and we are nearly done with the 14th season of RuPaul’s Drag Race. Oedipussi Rex, the “beardy drag barbarian,” then starts to growl out Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah,” encouraging the audience to sing along. He lands hard on his four-inch platform sandals and stomps ferociously across the stage, the panels on his Roman leather skirt flying wide. His purple eyeshadow with pronounced shoulder pads, silver harem pants, and red leather gloves cut quite the figure, like a 21st century Boy George.Īt Europe’s premiere drag convention, a horned man with an enormous purple mane and beard flips backwards off a chair. In a recording studio, Chicago-based Tenderoni pops and swings to a professionally choreographed number, effortlessly lip-syncing to R&B. She sighs dreamily at the king’s antics, recalling a time of crooners like Stormé DeLarverie. He flashes a glowing smile at a woman in the audience. Wearing a three-piece suit with tails and a purple cummerbund, he clutches a glass of scotch in one hand as the diamond in his cravat winks and the smooth curls on his forehead swing rakishly. Beau Jangles, the self-styled “fuckboy for your great-grandaddy’s generation,” sings into an old-fashioned microphone in a South London tavern.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |