Originally published by BoingBoing.net, March 2013.
Mention the word "
voguing"
to people, and generally their first reaction will be “strike a pose,
there’s nothing to it". A dance fad made popular by Madonna in the early
Nineties but invented in the New York City gay underground years
before, voguing faded into obscurity as quickly as it popped into the
mainstream. It’s good for nostalgic giggles, though: we’ve all seen that
clip of "
Vogue Boy" voguing in a
shopping mall. But what if I were to tell you—like a big, gay
Morpheus—that vogue was not a short-lived fad? Voguing is now part of a
complex, diverse, fully-formed and constantly evolving underground
culture called
ballroom.
To be clear, “ballroom" takes it name from the venues in which the
“ball" events take place, and is not to be confused with the “strictly"
kind of ballroom. Like hip hop, ballroom encompasses many different
elements of artistic expression, from music and language to clothes and
design, and, of course, dance. It deals directly with some of society’s
most controversial issues, namely sexuality, race, class, gender roles
and expression, beauty modes, self-definition and competition. It
doesn’t do this in the polemical style we may be used to from punk and
political hip-hop, however, where topics are theorised and discussed. In
ballroom these issues are lived and experienced, as a vast number of
those taking part in this underground scene are transgender, working
class, people of colour.
Ballroom includes society’s most marginalised: minorities within
minorities within minorities, for whom voguing and ballroom culture is
an important resource. In a world where they have been rejected,
ballroom not only accepts these people for who they are, it
celebrates
them, in a variety of unique and different categories. The competitive,
prize-winning aspect of ballroom gives some participants a sense of
worth lacking in the “real" world (not to mention money), and the
familial structure of the “houses"—mother, father, sister, brother—often
acts as a real surrogate, as many in this world have been disowned by
their biological families.
Here, voguing is not just a dance, and ballroom is not just a genre.
It’s a way of life that brings pride, peer recognition and self-respect.
The genre of music is one thing, but the culture which surrounds it is
another; and both are intricately tied into one another.
"Ballroom is a competition where you have houses (teams) that
compete against each other, much like a sports team, except the
competition in fashion, dance, runway, modelling, creativity and other
categories. It is still usually an underground thing attended by people
in the scene, though some outside the scene get glimpses of it. It is
hard to follow unless you actively participate in it, or attend these
functions." — DJ Vjuan Allure (Elite Beats)
"Ballroom a long running culture of pure underground talent. A
place where people can come and express who they are or who they want to
be and not be judged by the outside world, it is a thriving community
of greatness and an open outlet for many talents." — DJ MikeQ (Qween Beat)
To quote the late, great Willi Ninja, who is perhaps the greatest
voguer the world has yet seen, voguing is like a challenge dance:
instead of fighting you take it out on the dancefloor. Depending on who
you ask, this uniquely stylised dance form arose either amongst the
inmates of Ryker’s Island, or at gay Harlem dance parties in the sixties
(it’s most probably a mixture of both). Voguing got its name from Vogue
magazine, as the competing dancers would flip to pictures of models
posing, and imitate them, trying to outdo each other in the process. As
it developed the dancers became quicker and more agile, and incorporated
other forms of dance such as waacking (high speed arm movements and
hand gestures) and body popping (though some say that voguing actually
pre-dates popping, and was itself an influence on the original b-boys).
Fast forward to 2013 and voguing has come a long way, progressing
through the styles of old way, new way, femme and dramatics, to today’s
almost hyperactive, turbocharged version of the dance. Although key
elements of old way voguing remain (posing, “face"), a much more frantic
and stylised choreography takes precedence, with signature moves such
as the dip (when a dancer falls flat on their back), the duck walk and
hair control (using long hair as stylistic element of the dance, in
essence whipping it back and forth).
Then there is “runway" which is both the term for the space on which
vogue battles usually take place at a ball (though they can also happen
in a designated space on a busy club dancefloor) and a category in and
of itself, based on traditional fashion runway modelling. To compete at a
vogue ball is most often called “walking" and walking runways is not
all about dancing. The “face" category means exactly that: who has the
best looking face. Male and female modes are described as “butch" and
“femme", though pretty much everyone is a “queen", and the ability to
pass convincingly as something you are not (a straight thug, a
biological woman) is called “realness". So "
Femme Queen Face" is a category for those with the prettiest feminine features, while "
Pretty Boy Realness: Andre 3000"
requires competitors to look and act as much like Andre 3000 as
possible. While traditional beauty modes are aspired to by many in
ballroom, it is not exclusive. There are categories for the plus size,
with some of the most popular voguers being “big girls". The categories
at balls are labyrinthine, I can’t possibly cover them all here. There’s
just not enough room, and honestly, I don’t truly understand all of
them myself yet. The general ethos of ballroom, however, is essentially
“be yourself" and “work with what you’ve got".
As these terms and categories suggest, voguing (and ballroom culture
in general) is highly feminised. Males are regularly referred to as
“she" and many “butch queens" perform “in drags", while some butch
queens go further with their gender expression, and through the process
of gender re-assignment, become “femme queens". In fact, “Vogue Femme"
is generally how the current, athletic style of voguing is classified.
This is in stark contrast to the hypermasculine, heteronormative and
often misogynistic modes of mainstream hip-hop and the dance cultures
that surround it. But make no mistake, just because it is feminine, does
not mean it is in any way weak or passive. No, quite the contrary,
vogue femme is decidedly aggressive, in your face and challenging.
Ballroom culture and voguing has become an integral part of the black
gay urban experience, even though it is not quite recognised as such by
the mass media (where, ironically, voguing’s influence is very strongly
felt in styling and dance). Perhaps the celebration of the feminine and
the queer goes against mainstream modes of how “hip-hop" (and by
extension “black culture") is sold to a white audience, but ballroom
serves as an important rights of passage none the less. While preparing
this article I emailed the house music vocalist
Shaun J Wright
(a Chicago native who has worked with Hercules & Love Affair, Kiki
and Stereogamous) to ask about his own personal experience of the
ballroom scene. His answers are brilliant and articulate (I hope to
publish this full interview with Shaun some time soon) and go very far
in explaining to outsiders how this scene works and what it can mean to
the participants:
"My entry into the ballroom scene was quite lengthy. I was
familiar with some of the elements of ballroom culture because I would
sneak into black, gay clubs in Chicago when I was 15. There would be
vogueing and runway battles occurring in the club but I didn’t attribute
those things specifically to ballroom. Around the same time I viewed "Paris Is Burning"
and it helped me to make connections between what I was seeing in the
clubs and the balls, which were still a great mystery to me. When I
ventured to Atlanta to attend college I began to learn how to vogue by
watching voguers in the club. I would test out my new moves and a few
houses took notice.
I attended my first ball in the summer of 2001 in Chicago. It was
a really crowded ball with participants from around the country and I
was extremely impressed and also a bit confused. I still remember that
night in a hazy manner. Though I had been clubbing for about four years
by then, balls were something different altogether. The energy just
swept through the room and I was never quite sure if my eyes were seeing
the events as accurately as they were occurring. It would take
attending a few more balls before I was able to process their intensely
complex dynamics.
What left the greatest impression that night was watching
Legendary Mother Leonard “Lisa" Escada Mugler (R.I.P.) destroy Butch
Queen Face. I recall him walking to the judges panel and sending every
other competitor on their way without a single vote. All I could hear
from the commentator was, “1 Escada, 2 Escada, 3 Escada…". I decided at
that moment that I wouldn’t even consider joining another house. I
wanted to be apart of a crew that had that type of mother. I decided to
join the House of Escada as most of my friends were already members and
it felt like a natural fit."
Ah,
Paris Is Burning. For all intents and purposes, this
1991 documentary feature by director Jennie Livingston is Vogue Culture
101, featuring as it does some of the original legends of the scene like
Pepper La’Beija, Angie Xtravaganza, Octavia St Laurent and Willi Ninja,
as well as some brilliant footage from various Harlem balls in the 80s.
Paris Is Burning’s influence has grown much stronger and since its
initial release, and the film has amassed a cult following like
practically no other documentary I can think of (it recently topped
a PBS poll
of the best documentaries of all time, and by a very wide margin). The
film has introduced a wide audience to the language, style, music and
culture of vogue, though as Shaun Wright is keen to point out, it
shouldn’t be taken as the be-all-and-end-all of ballroom culture. The
2005 documentary
How Do I Look
acts as a kind of riposte to Paris Is Burning, going further into
ballroom culture and featuring some Paris Is Burning cast members who
felt they weren’t portrayed fairly. The main source for modern ballroom
footage is unquestionably the YouTube channel
Ballroom Throwbacks, which has been grabbing and uploading candid footage of modern balls for a few years now. Also worth watching is
The Luna Show,
in which Butch Queen Face legend Luna Khan hosts some great short
interviews with many stars of the ballroom scene, both upcoming and
legendary. Luna’s not shy about asking many of the dancers to explain
their gender transitioning process, and by seeking advice for any kids
watching who may have similar feelings, The Luna Show acts as a
valuable—if under-acknowldged—resource for the transgender community.
So to the music, which as I mentioned is intricately linked to the
dancing, and shares the same in-your-face spirit. One of the most
exciting things about the ballroom genre for me, as a producer and a dj,
is that it is house music that has a real connection to a living,
breathing dance floor. That’s something that has been lacking in the
genre for pretty much a decade now, with its emphasis on a cerebral
appreciation of “texture" and “space" (think cosmic and minimal, which
seem to appeal more to stoners and k heads than to actual dancers). By
contrast, ballroom is brash, complex and busy. It can get minimal at
times, but with the emphasis still very much on the beat and the
percussion, giving the dancers and battlers more than enough to work
with. Importantly, it still has very close ties to its roots in New
York-based soul/disco and 80s/90s drag queen/diva house. In other words,
the original cultures that inspired it.
So how does ballroom music differ from traditional house? Well, while
there is a steady kick drum similar to that of house and disco, there
is a different feel to the rhythm, and it’s one that can be appreciated
most fully on the dancefloor. Traditionally, house music is built up as
layers of loops and rhythms created on drum machines and synths.
Ballroom, like much American dance music which has emerged since the
turn of the century, takes its cues not from steady loops but from
rhythms punched out on the pads of an MPC sampler. This gives the music a
more staccato feel, similar to the difference between a loop-based
hip-hop track from the 90s, and a jerky, Timbaland/Neptunes-style
production from ten years later.
Whereas house has a stepping rhythm, a “one-and-two-and-one-and-two"
(which comes from disco and feels akin to walking), ballroom rhythms
place less emphasis on the “two" and sound more like
“one-and-ONE-and-one-one-ONE" (a rhythm more suited to punching or
jumping, and which is perfect for a dance that requires landing in
different poses in rapid succession). It’s a similar 5-kicks-to-a-bar
rhythm to that found in Jersey Club music, which is a close relation to
ballroom, and also Baltimore Club, though B-More places more emphasis on
sampled breakbeats. That’s not to say that there is no snare. The
emphasis on the “one" is often backed up by snare and clap patterns that
accentuate every kick in a bar, the type also found in ghetto tech and
trap, often using similar 808-based drum sounds. Snare patterns are an
important part of the ballroom sound, and the dancers’ reaction to the
music, as are large cymbal crash sounds, used by the dancers for posing
and “dipping".
Unfortunately, I am limited by space to giving a short rundown of the
top producers in ballroom (many of whom I have interviewed for this
piece, and whose interviews I hope to publish in full at another time)..
So here’s my brief, condensed guide to ballroom acts: DJ
Vjuan Allure of
Elite Beatz
is the grandaddy of this whole scene, having started producing vogue
beats in the late 1990s. A clubber since the age of 12, he was initially
inspired by Junior Vasquez, but sites DJ Sedrick from Washington DC,
with his more brutal, hyped and energetic style, as his main production
influence. The foremost spinner of ballroom right now is DJ
MikeQ, resident DJ at the weekly
Vogue Knights
party in New York (probably the number one destination for voguers
outside of the bigger, less regular, ball events in the city). Last year
MikeQ put out the
Let It All Out EP on the highly respected
Fade To Mind label, and is also head of the
Qween Beat stable, home of many up and coming legends in the scene.
Another aspect of ballroom music is the commentator, who is basically
an MC, though the style of MCing used in ballroom differs from pretty
much any other genre. It often includes specific shouted chants
featuring the names of popular dancers, as well as commands for them to
do specific moves on the runway/dancefloor to be judged on, or specific
categories for participants to walk in. To get a taste of what the
aggressively camp ballroom commentating style is like, start with the
YouTube channel of the legendary
Kevin JZ Prodigy, who has hundreds of clips demonstrating his style, or check out the Soundcloud page of
Divoli S’Vere. to see how producers are getting imaginative in the programming of chants.
Moving away form the already established legends, there s also a
whole slew of upcoming talent bubbling away. Worth checking out are the
Jersey-influenced productions of
Beek, who has just released a new, self-titled four-track EP through
Vibedeck, commentator/producer
Sugur Shane (his new mixtape My Night With Peter And Junior can be heard
here), and the genderfluid
B Ames,
who produces tracks at a frightening rate, and whose sound pushes vogue
music in a different, more R&B influenced direction. Outside of the
actual ballroom battling scene, the sound is becoming more and more
influential, and can be heard in electronica acts like
Ynfynyt Scroll (of the
Track Meet parties and
#FEELINGS label from Austin), the highly respected British DJ
Bok Bok of
Night Slugs (check out his remix of
Grand High Priest ft Dajae) and
CVNT TR4XXX from the UK (more on that particular act in a bit).
Like many other contemporary dance genres, ballroom has cultivated a
very strong Soundcloud network of fans and producers, with remixes and
new tracks appearing on the site at a very fast rate. And like many
American urban/electronic/dance genres, ballroom has its own big
signature tracks. The two most recognisable types of ballroom/vogue
track are the “Ha", and the “Cunt". I’ll get to the cunt (or kunt or
even ckunt, as it is spelled) in a little bit, but let’s start with the
Ha.
"The “Ha" is a sample used by Masters At Work, taken from the
movie Trading Places. The word “Ha" is in the record itself, accentuated
with an effect called a “krash" (a hard hitting effect). So many tracks
have used the effect the songs themselves become known as “Ha"-s. " —Vjuan Allure
"A “ha” is another form of vogue beat. There are a couple
definitions for it, but one of the most common forms of it is when you
transform a mainstream song, a YouTube clip, maybe a commercial or a TV
show, and add it (sample it) or turn it into a vogue beat/track. " — B Ames
Masters At Work’s "
The Ha Dance"
is the basically the musical bedrock of the entire ballroom genre, and
has been sampled and recycled countless times. Pick any clip of vogue
battling to watch on YouTube, and the chances are that “The Ha Dance",
or a Ha-sampling tune, will be the soundtrack. One reason for this is
that the Ha/krash sound itself gives voguers a cue to do the signature
vogue “dip" move of landing flat on their back, which, when done in
conjunction with the music, can be very impressive indeed.
The “cunt" on the other hand, is a track which samples the word
“cunt" by a commentator or MC, or samples the classic house track "
The Feeling (Cunty)"
by Rageous Featuring Kevin Aviance, in which NY clubland legend Aviance
uses the phrase “county" to very dramatic effect. In contrast to the
“Ha", “cunt" samples tend to be chopped up and spat out rapidly,
relating more to hand or hair movement than dips or showcase moves such
as balletic spins. As for the word itself, which is obviously very
loaded with pejorative meaning, in the world of ballroom (and world of
drag at large) it is used instead as praise.
"Cunt is not the derogatory word it appears to be. It is actually
one of the highest compliments that someone can give you - meaning
fantastic!" — Vjuan Allure
"Cunt is used when you are just feeling your best. Or if something looks or sounds great/amazing." — B.Ames.
There has been some controversy of late in the ballroom world, in
regards to who or what actually constitutes “ballroom", now that the
genre is gaining popularity and more producers seem to be jumping on the
vogue bandwagon. That’s why I want to take a moment here to explain my
own status. You see, dear readers, that “upcoming" UK act I mentioned
above called
CVNT TR4XXX (aka Cunt Traxxx)? That’s me. Want proof? Here’s a little cunty mix I put together for the #FEELINGS label.
I mention this not as a ploy for publicity, but to explain how the
influence of voguing and ballroom culture has extended far beyond
Harlem, and even the United States, at a time when there’s a lot of talk
of outsiders infiltrating the scene and betraying one of its core
foundations: realness. Being based in the UK, and not New York/New
Jersey/Atlanta/America, technically I AM an outsider. However, house
music has always been popular in the UK, and by dint of that, so has
vogueing and the NY black/latino/gay/trans/drag underground. Cutting
edge house was like pop music when I was growing up in the 80s and 90s
("
Deep In Vogue" was one of the
first singles I ever bought, and to this day it remains my favourite
ever music video) so house music culture doesn’t feel alien to me, it IS
my realness. “House" is how I describe what I produce and what I DJ,
and seeing ballroom bring so much energy and excitement to this
sometimes stagnant genre is a beautiful thing.
Yet while I have connected to ballroom culture most strongly because
of the music, that’s not the element that has given me the most
inspiration. You see, even though I have been producing music for the
last 15 years, it’s only since I reconnected with voguing and ballroom
that I feel my music has come into its own. Like those children walking
runways, ballroom has taught me. Watching the dancers, seeing them work
and thinking about their movements has given me real focus and purpose
for creating my music. As I stated previously, ballroom is music for
dancing to, and ballroom has reminded me of my primary focus as a dance
music producer. It has taught me how to bring it, and how to reach my
full potential. The personal importance of this for me is hard to
explain on paper, especially if the reader has no experience of the
challenges of writing or producing music, and even then in a much
maligned, seemingly “throwaway" genre like house. Believe me when I tell
you, though, that it is a spiritual thing.
Aside from making music, I’ve dj’ed at balls in London (Horse Meat
Disco’s Vauxhall Is Gurning), Glasgow (The Fierce Ruling Divas Ball) and
Manchester (Vogue Brawl). While us basic bitches might not match up to
the status of the US children, what we are doing is being true to
ourselves, and keeping it real. We’re showing a lot of love for the
original pioneers and participants in New York and all across America,
and even though our thing might look different, as long as it’s done
with respect, honesty and love, that should be what really matters. At
the end of the day, I’m not sure if we’re going to see another “Madonna
moment" with vogue and ballroom culture crossing over into the
mainstream again, mainly because I just don’t see who could take it to
the charts but retain the credibility (Beyonce is the only one who
springs to mind.) If that does happen, though, surely it should be the
dancers/producers/designers/commentators/artists themselves who control
how they are depicted and how the scene is represented? I will leave the
final words, on the expansion and development of ballroom culture to
the scene’s original pioneers:
"I’ll just say this: as in in anything, you have to learn what it
is you claim to be doing. Go to a ball, see what the culture is like,
see what makes it tick, where it comes from. Find out what the
“feeling"/"energy" is that only comes from a ballroom. Invest time so
that you are knowledgeable in what you’re speaking/showing. There is
always somebody ready to call out a poser. Don’t be a poser!" — DJ Vjuan Allure
"If you’re going to refer to ballroom or try to be relevant to
it, at least know your history. Know what you are saying, who, what,
why, when, where and how. And feel free to attend a ball." — DJ MIkeQ
