Take me, papi!

This evening I saw the Butchlalis de Panochtitlan perform at Highways. Oddly enough, they seem to have transformed themselves from a duo to a quartet, though one of them oddly enough didn't actually say anything. They are a wonderful, though certainly problematic performance experience, most definitely worth paying for, and even worth falling for. If nothing else, they're pretty good at turning on their audience. Adorably tough and funny, they put on a great show even though there are some kinks to work out. Many of the problems are small and technical - volume and pacing issues, that kind of thing. I'd love to see them a little more polished.

First of all, they're "butch dykes/transgender butches/genderqueer speaking subjects that are not trying to pass as men." Which is interesting, since a few of the pieces definitely hinted at a discussion of transitioning. It seems that at least one (Raquel?) is on T, or perhaps just thinking about it. Masculinity is definitely their main subject. They describe it as the "in-
between space of female biology and testerone-taking transexuality and the identities and neighborhoods these subjects claim and are claimed by." And of course they also discuss Chicana identities, the race and class that are inseparable from performances of gender. Although I wonder a little about their racial politics; how do they feel about the white members of their audience? I picture them along the lines of Cherrie in terms of that being not their ideal audience and thus it not mattering too much if some things go over their heads. Is it a problem if a performer doesn't like a part of their audience? Is that really how they feel? Interestingly, their website promotes the show as organized terms of LA geography, which I think didn't really come through in this particular production but which I'd love to see. It's a fascinating concept; mapping the process of identity onto the city. (OK, it also feeds into something I've been thinking about recently, I'll admit). I can't wait until that production sees the light.

The most interesting, and quite possibly the most problematic, was their final scene, entitled "BDSM." If I recall correctly, it was addressed to 'my academic daddy' or something like that. And it ended with one performer hitting another with her belt. For me it evoked the oddly kinky relationships we tend to have with our academic advisors. I was probably reading it through the artists' biographies (one of them works with Jack), but that may not be wrong. But it also talked about butch-on-butch action and the relationship between artists and the reviewers and academics who write about them; it implied that desire for representation is problemetized by the possiblity that that representation also co-opts the performers' own authenticity and glorifies the academic rather than the artist. This piece also feminized its speaker, which counteracted the masculinity of the boi/boi sexual tension. But really, I think they brought the academic BDSM to the stage and that made me rather uncomfortable - it was quite intense. Nipples and hot wax and spanking. Situating it at the end of the piece might have been a mistake - I'm not sure. It makes the audience leave on a somber and contemplative note when I think they'd be better off ending with more laughing and cheering.

Overall, I loved the performance. They are certainly audience pleasers: sexy, sassy, and hot, hot, hot. They have a lot to say, and say it well, although I hope I get the chance to see them get better. I definitely left the venue stimulated both mentally and physically. I wouldn't mind any one of those papis taking a belt to me (or kissing my heels - whatever works). I'd love to get them together with Turner, my other favorite young trannyboi performance artist and see what kind of dialogue they would come up with (or perhaps just as my own personal fantasy).