Arts & Entertainment
Queer company Sean Dorsey Dance preps weekend D.C. performances
Out choreographer says social justice for LGBT people is key motivation
Sean Dorsey Dance
āBoys in Troubleā
Saturday, May 19 at 8 p.m.
Sunday, May 20 at 7 p.m.
Dance Place
3225 8th St., N.E.
$15-30
Transgender choreographer Sean Dorsey had a love for dance from a young age but was always surrounded by cis-gender dancers. He became discouraged by the lack of representation and decided to shelve his dream.
āI never saw a single person like me, namely a transgender person, in dance. I think a part of my brain kind of shut that off as an option for my lifeās journey,ā Dorsey says.
At 25, Dorsey, who was pursuing a career in social justice community organizing, decided he could fuse his love for social justice with storytelling through movement.Ā
Now 45, Dorsey is the first transgender modern dance choreographer in the U.S. The Vancouver, British Columbia native spearheads Sean Dorsey Dance, an all-queer dance company, that uses dance to tell LGBT stories. Itās a privilege Dorsey says is not given to many LGBT dancers. While Dorsey is the only transgender member of the dance company, he notes that cis-gender, LGB dancers have their own struggles.
āThere is a great and tragic irony that there are many, many LGBQ in the dance field but very little work that allows those LGBQ people to be their full, authentic, out-of-the-closet selves on stage,ā Dorsey says. āWhile there are many cis-gender gay, bisexual, lesbian, queer professional dancers and choreographers, what they mostly create or perform is work thatās rooted in heterosexual narratives with very binary movement, costumes and roles. Our company is really celebrated for breaking out of those things.ā
One such work the company is performing is āBoys in Trouble,ā a project Dorsey started working on three years ago. Dorseyās choreography for the dance formed through his experience teaching free movement workshops to cis-gender, transgender, gender-non-conforming and other members of the LGBT community who identify on the masculine spectrum. He also traveled the U.S. and recorded interviews with people on the topic of masculinity.
Dorsey learned through speaking with people that there was an artistic hole for the issue of masculinity.
āWeāve really heard so loudly from communities that peopleās struggles with things like toxic masculinity and peer pressure from within trans and queer communities to be the right kind of man or to be trans enough and the continued struggles of black communities and communities of color dealing with a nation founded on white supremacy,ā he says. āWe hurt so passionately in these communities that people are so hungry not for just dialogue about these issues but also an artistic conversation that would allow them to respond to the work and also to begin their own healing around these issues.ā
āBoys in Troubleā will embark on a two-year, 20-city tour across the country following its two-night engagement at Dance Place. This is the first time the project will be on tour but Dorsey has toured with other LGBT-focused performances before.
āThe Missing Generation,ā which the company will simultaneously tour with along with āBoys in Trouble,ā received a positive response from audiences ranging from large cities to rural areas. The performance āgives a voice to trans and queer longtime survivors of the early AIDS epidemic,ā according to Dorsey. He recorded 75 hours of oral history from these survivors which was used to inspire the work.
Dorsey says that even though his projects are LGBT-focused, they can be enjoyed and understood by straight audiences as well. He believes the performanceās key themes can resonate with anyone regardless of gender identity or sexuality.
āStraight audiences are deeply moved by the work,ā he says. āThey tell us that seeing transgender and queer bodies on stage feels extremely resonant to them and really succeeds revealing truly universal themes and narratives like difference, loss, love or all of our deep longing to be connected to other humans.ā
Itās a process Dorsey works hard to conceptualize for that exact response. Dorsey uses storytelling as a key element to bring emotional themes and social justice issues to life on stage.
āI donāt create modern dance that is just dance for danceās sake and itās not just random, abstract, movements. Everything that I create is driven by the themes and concepts that Iām working on.ā
Sean Dorsey Dance members have a busy summer ahead of them. The company will perform at dance festivals including Fresh Meat Festival, a festival of transgender and queer performances, in San Francisco June 14-16. Fresh Meat Festival is produced by Fresh Meat Productions, a transgender and queer arts production company started by Dorsey.
The company also booked its first European gig in Stockholm, Sweden this summer. Dorsey says all these bookings are notable for a transgender choreographer.
Whether itās introducing marginalized communities to audiences or giving a voice to audiences that felt silenced, Dorsey wants everyone to leave the theater connected by the same emotion.
āI hope that audiences will leave with a heart full to overflowing and a feeling in their body of having been altered or changed in some ways and to have experienced some kind of loving shift in their mind,ā Dorsey says. āThis is a work so far that has just really cracked open peopleās hearts and minds.ā
Finger lasers, confetti cannons, drag shows, photo booths, throwback tunes, and a touch nerdy: after a long break, D.C.ās gay DJ collective CTRL is throwing its first party in six years.
Born in an Eritrean restaurant more than a decade ago, this longstanding gay nightlife electropop group is resurfacing with a comeback event at Trade on March 30.
Gay DJs Adam Koussari-Amin, Jeff Prior, Devon Trotter, and Brett Andreisen hosted the first CTRL party at now-closed restaurant Dahlak, on the corner of 18th and U Streets. After a year of hosting pop-ups in that restaurantās dining room, they upgraded down 18th Street to now-closed gay club Cobalt. There, the parties grew: drag shows, a pop-up photo booth from David Claypool, and quirky activations like throwing hot dogs into print-outs of Putinās mouth. Their productions grew as well, like producing the now-defunct Brightest Young Gays (BYG) Pride events at Wonderbread Factory and Union Market and the āGet Wetā pool party with David Brownās Otter Crossing at the Capitol Skyline Hotel.
CTRL wasnāt done. The group received its biggest stage yet after a call from Ed Bailey, the owner of now-closed gay club Town, as well as current gay bars Number 9 and Trade. At Town, the opportunity āallowed our creativity to flourish with even bigger performances, bigger photo experiences, crazier hand-outs, and the same electropop dance vibes our fans had come to know us for,ā says Koussari-Amin.
CTRL pressed pause when Town shut down, which āwas a huge loss to the LGBTQIA+ community and D.C. nightlife in general,ā says Koussari-Amin. After that, it hosted an occasional spinoff called QWERTY. Post-pandemic, Koussari-Amin has spent a few nights solo as DJ at Trade and other venues.
After connecting with Jesse Jackson, the Trade general manager, as well as with Bailey, who agreed to host the inaugural event, Koussari-Amin was determined to shift CTRL back to life.
However, getting the old band back together proved to be a challenge. While the rest of the group have either left Washington, D.C., or are pursuing other projects, Koussari-Amin received their blessing to stay on and find new members.
āWhen it came to finding new partners, both DJ Dez [Desmond Jordan] and DJ Lemz [Steve Lemmerman] were obvious choices,ā he says, noting that āthey also have distinct styles and interests.ā Dez has a residency at Pitchers and Kiki as well as pop-ups, and Lemz throws events like Sleaze and BENT.
āIt seemed important to come back to the nightlife table with an experience that could complement all the amazing experiences that have even built up since CTRL threw its last event at Town. Bringing back both the DJ collective and the CTRL event with Dez and Lemz means new voices, perspectives, sounds, and excitement.ā
āCTRL is an opportunity for the community to come together, enjoy music, drinks, and good vibes,ā adds Jordan, noting that for him, itās an event that celebrates queer identity.
And after months of planning, CTRL will kick off its monthly party series at Trade on March 30 for the first gig after its glow-up.
The trio says that its core inspiration āis driven by the indie and electropop favorites of new and old, like Goldfrapp, Ava Max, Charli XCX, ā¦ We’re also all huge fans of slut and trash pop music like Kim Petras, Slayyyter, Cupcakke,ā as well as pop diva remixes, new bops, and songs that reside inside and far beyond the expanse of Top 40.
CTRL is also bringing back its activations that complement the tunes. Summer Camp is set for drag performances, David Claypool is back with his photo booth, and Koussari-Amin promises āto have all sorts of weird and wacky handouts like we used to.ā
After the March premiere, Aprilās party is āCTRLellaā, a Coachella send-up. Future events will feature various different themes, and they plan to throw a party during Capital Pride; theyāre also looking to be a central part of Tradeās expansion into the adjacent space.
Koussari-Amin says that āthe eventās signature experience [is] a lynchpin in connecting D.C.ās expanding generations of queer folks, giving everyone a safe space to let loose and feel a rush no matter who they are.ā
For his part, Bailey continues to support CTRL and its collective intention, expressing its essential nature as a party for partiers by partiers. āCTRL is the kind of party that represents what people want. Itās just a real party by real people that just want to hear good music and dance with their friends.ā
Celebrity News
HRC releases āQueer Renaissance Syllabusā
BeyoncĆ©ās hit album inspired curriculum
In a move aimed at celebrating the beauty, brilliance and resilience of the LGBTQ community, the Human Rights Campaign unveiled the “Queer Renaissance Syllabus” that BeyoncĆ©ās āRenaissanceā album inspired.
Curated by Justin Calhoun, Leslie Hall and Chauna Lawson of the HRC’s Historically Black Colleges and Universities Program, the syllabus includes a variety of academic articles, essays, films and other media rooted in Black queer and feminist studies. Each piece is directly inspired by the tracks on BeyoncĆ©’s Billboard 200-topping dance album, “Renaissance.”
BeyoncĆ©’s album “Renaissance” stands as a cultural milestone, celebrating the Black queer roots of dance music while shedding light on overlooked Black queer artists. Inspired by her late-Uncle Johnny, the album not only garnered critical acclaim but also shed light on the often marginalized contributions of Black queer artists. Winning four Grammys and yielding chart-topping hits like āBreak My Soulā and āCuff It,ā the album sparked discussions about economic impact and cultural representation.
Amid its success, legislative challenges arose, with Florida and Texas enacting bans on DEI initiatives in public colleges. Recognizing the album’s transformative potential, HRC developed the “Queer Renaissance Syllabus” to leverage its impact for education and activism.
Tailored for educators, youth-serving professionals, DEI practitioners, higher education leaders and admirers of BeyoncĆ©’s artistry, the syllabus aims to encourage meaningful discussions, enrich lesson plans, and explore innovative ways to honor the vibrancy and significance of LGBTQ individuals and their culture.
With six themes anchoring the syllabus, ranging from “intersectionality and inclusivity” to “social justice and activism,” it provides a comprehensive exploration of various facets of LGBTQ experiences and expressions. Fan-favorite tracks from the album are paired with scholarly readings, offering insights into empowerment, self-acceptance and the transformative power of artistic expression. The syllabus also reinforces HRCās efforts to highlight, amplify and re-center Black and queer voices.
By providing links to articles, books, podcasts and interviews, each associated with a song from the album, it celebrates the rich cultural heritage and contributions of the Black queer community.
The concluding section of the syllabus includes BeyoncĆ©’s tribute to OāShea Sibley, a young Black queer person who was murdered in Brooklyn, N.Y., last July while voguing to āRenaissanceā songs at a gas station. HRC also includes a statement that condemns hate crimes.
Movies
Neo-noir āFemmeā offers sexy, intense revenge fantasy
A work of real and thrilling cinematic vision
They say ārevenge is sweet,ā and it must be true. Why else would so many of our popular stories, dating all the way back to āMedeaā and beyond, be focused on the idea of getting āevenā with the people who have done us wrong?
Itās a concept with obvious appeal for anyone who has felt unjustly used by the world ā or, more accurately, by the people in it ā but that has particular resonance, perhaps, for modern queer audiences, long used to being relegated to the status of āvictimā in the narratives we see on our screens. In āFemmeā ā the new UK indie thriller helmed by first-time feature directors Sam H. Freeman and Ng Choon Ping, now in limited theatrical release and expanding wider over the next two weeks ā it provides the irresistible hook for a gripping tale of calculated vengeance in the face of anti-queer violence. Like the best of such stories, however, itās as much a cautionary tale as it is a wish-fulfillment fantasy.
Set in London, it centers on Jules (Nathan Stewart-Jarrett), aka Aphrodite Banks, a popular drag performer in the cityās queer club scene who, after a performance one night, steps out in full costume to buy a pack of cigarettes and becomes the victim of a traumatic āgay bashingā incident at the hands of a young man goaded to violence by a thuggish gang of friends. Months later, though heās recovered from his physical injuries, he is still deeply affected by the inner scars that linger. Robbed of the confidence that allowed him to perform, heās withdrawn into a reclusive life, until concern from his friends and housemates prompts him to finally venture out into the world for a night of cruising at a gay sauna ā where he encounters his bully doing the same thing.
Unrecognizable and anonymously masculine out of his drag persona, Jules finds himself beginning a dangerous and duplicitous game in which he plans to āoutā his former attacker ā whose name, as he learns, is Preston (George MacKay) ā in the most humiliating way possible. As his scheme begins to play out, however, he encounters an obstacle: in getting to know the closeted Preston, he is surprised to discover not only empathy for someone living their life in terrified camouflage, but a mutual attraction that develops despite the horrific history between them.
Framed as a self-described āneo-noirā story, a designation that implies a certain flavor of moral ambiguity as much as it does a tense and shadowy tale of intrigue or a psychologically complex tone, itās a movie that relies heavily on style in order to sell its conceptual premise. Realistically, we might question the boldness that permits our protagonist to enact such a potentially hazardous scheme, but in the context of its genre trappings we are lulled into accepting it. And while most of us are likely ājadedā enough to question the possibility of tenderness between its two leading characters, the accepted conceits of the film noir form are enough to sell it to us ā or at least allow us to grapple with it alongside Jules, whose righteously Machiavellian master plan is threatened by the feelings he ācatchesā in spite of himself.
That, of course, is part of the whole point. āFemme,ā though it establishes itself by virtue of its very title as a testament to the struggle to āpassā for straight in a world that places a value judgment on perceived adherence to a strict norm for gender and sexuality, hinges on the idea that such things arenāt quite as clear-cut as we want to make them. Despite the black-and-white certainty we cling to when it comes to the subject of abusive or toxic relationships, thereās an emotional component that can only be ignored or dismissed at our peril, and even our most resolute intentions can be undermined by the shades of gray we discover in our hearts.
Freeman and Ng ā who also wrote the screenplay, adapting their own BAFTA-nominated short film from 2021 (starring Harris Dickinson and Paapa Essiedu) into a feature-length expansion ā seem bent on challenging our snap judgments, on forcing us to sympathize with our oppressors by showing us the ways in which they, too, are prevented from living a fully authentic life by the expectations of their cultural environment. Even more challenging for many modern audiences, perhaps, may be the unavoidable observation that, in enacting his plan of revenge, Jules crosses the line between being a victim and being a victimizer ā a fine point that may trigger uncomfortable implications in a social environment that has become marked by divisive moral constructs and hardline ethical posturing.
Before we scare you off with discussion of high-concept themes and āculture warā rhetoric, however, itās crucial to bring up the elements that lift āFemmeā above and beyond the level of so many such narrative films and makes it a somewhat unexpectedly potent piece of cinematic storytelling ā and all of them have to do with the skill and intention behind it.
As to the former, the movieās first-time directors manage a remarkable debut, steeping their film in moody, genre-appropriate visuals and murky morality. They pave a path beyond the easy assessments proscribed for us by conventional thinking, and force us to follow our sympathies into a disquieting confrontation between what we āknowā as right and what we feel as true; at the same time, they push back against any natural sentimentality we might have about the situation, stressing the toxicity of the relationship in the middle of their film, the ironically-reversed insincerity of its dynamic ā and, perhaps most importantly, the reality of the defining circumstances around it. While we might find ourselves longing for a happier resolution than the one we expect, the film makes no pretense that these two men might overcome the deep denial and traumatic associations ā not to mention the calculated lack of honesty on the side of its de facto protagonist, to achieve some kind of āhappy endingā between themselves. Nevertheless, we hope for it, in spite of ourselves.
That delicate dynamic works largely because of the movieās lead actors. Both Stewart-Jarrett (āCandymanā) and MacKay (āPrideā, ā1917ā) deliver fully invested, utterly relatable performances, finding the emotional truth behind their interactions with as much palpable authenticity as they bring to the chemistry between them. They force us to abandon our preconceived ideas about each character by finding the human presence behind them, and it makes the storyās final outcome feel as heartbreaking as it does inevitable.
As for intention, āFemmeā ā which premiered at last yearās Berlin International Film Festival and went on to gather acclaim across the international film fest circuit ā might be a little hard to take for the easily triggered, we wonāt deny it. Still, itās a work of real and thrilling cinematic vision that goes beyond easy morality to highlight the tragedy that comes from being forced to live behind a mask for the sake of societal acceptance. Itās also exciting, smart, and unexpectedly sexy ā all of which make it a highly- recommended addition to your watchlist.
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