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About Just out. (Portland, OR) 1983-2013 | View Entire Issue (Nov. 5, 2004)
-______________________________________________________________________________ rovamtej i 2QQ4 - J - « t out DIVERSIONS .......... v.......... Then, reflecting the Dresden Dolls’ way of cutting seriousness with humor, she playfully adds, “O f course, it probably doesn’t hurt that the drummer is an occasional cross-dresser with a rocking hod, either.” Count Zero and the Ditty Bops open for the Dresden Dolls 9 p.m. Nov. 15 at Aladdin T he ater, 3017 S.E. Milwaukie Ave. Tickets are $12 at the door and $10 in advance from the box office or Ticketmaster. Doug Fir grows queer roots wo new queer nights in town promise to pull queer Portland out of the provincial mud and show the rest of the country that we know how to play queer. Jack and Snatch are trading off Sundays at the new Doug Fir Lounge, intending to party on the cutting edge of the entertainment scene hy featuring nationally recognized DJs and hands, go-go dancers and performance artists who will lift the Rose City’s queer nights to a national par. Jack: Queer as F **k is brought to you the second and fourth Sunday of every month hy the parents of Porky’s perpetually rocking night, B(X)ty. While DJs Puppet and Stormy will continue to pump out their ever-popular hip-hop, electroclash and rock, they intend Jack to focus on national names and queer acts in addition to showcasing community talent. Proving they mean business, Jack will kick off with electroclash creator Larry Tee on Nov. 14, follow with DJ Boy on Nov. 28, then fly in some queer hip-hop from L.A. The organizers of Jack want its audience to tmly embody “queer,” which is to say a gender spectrum willing to screw sexuality’s neat bi furcated boxes, not to mention anyone in those boxes. Jo doesn’t want to pick a fight with Holocene’s two favorite dyke nights, Tarr and Diva (second and fourth Sundays, respec ive- ly), so expect a mixed crowd, possibly with a slight leaning toward the hoys. On the other hand, as the not-so-subtle name implies, Snatch: A Dyke Knight wants to seduce the queer ladies on the first and third Sunday of every month. Each week will offer something special, he it a hand, perfonnance artist or crazy contest, in addition to a number of rotating DJs, with the intention of show casing new queer talent both local and nation al. Lesbian hands Take the Blame and Excuse Me, Sir (fresh out of Austin) will rock the stage for Snatch’s dehut Nov. 7. It’s about time Portland remembers its dyke rock past. The Doug Fir’s fancy duds at 830 E. Bum- side St. offer both nights the opportunity to play at a performance and club level other queer nights can’t reach (not to mention the Jupiter Hotel offers overnight package deals for any Doug Fir event, promising a new shag poter*; M Jack and Snatch’s crowds are un determined, hut Portland’s voracious queers continue to eat up queer nights like candy. And these two nights offer something particu larly sweet. T Lady, make a noise! D Both Jack and Snatch will be held from 5 to 11 p.m. and cost $6 at the door. For more information vl .. i www.jackpdx.com and www.snatchpdx.coi i i Silent voices brought to light t’s the year of the ” >man for Wade McCol- lum’s fledgling theater company. I Insight Out— \ nich was founded hy the Portland star of Hedwi ; and the Angry Inch along with Julianna 1 e and Lindsay Lucas— opens its first f ni seas l, themed “Women in Time,” with the olay ( om ered in the D ark. Written hy East Caa^ lesbian performer/play- wright Lenelle N YL se, Cornered runs through Nov. 20 at rrehouse Theatre, 1436 S.W. Montgome.y St. Billed as a “choreopoem,” the play melds poetry and dance Ntozake Shange-style to explore the psychological aftermath of sexual assault. Four anonymous characters— played hy Moise, Jaffe, Lucas and Chandra Curtis— meet in a dream. “Through a series of ceremonial slam poems, testimonials, music and movement, [they] begin a process of individual and collec tive healing,” Moise told Just Out. The play’s 24-year-old Haitian American author is a recipient of the James Baldwin Memorial Award in Playwriting and co-screen- writer of the award-winning feature film Sexual Dependency. Moise says she wrote Cornered because she “wanted to create art that went a little deeper than the typically voyeuristic film angle of a naked woman weeping in her shower after an attack. I wanted to write something that wasn’t just about facts.” She notes that a woman is raped every two minutes and that 66 percent of rape victims know their assailants. She says she wanted to explore how those facts affect women’s psyches. Cornered runs at 8 p.m. Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays. Tickets are $ 15 from 503-234-0973 or www.insightouttheatre.org. Thursday performances are sliding scale and are followed by a talk with the playwright. Dolled up Lenelle N . Moise wrote the “choreopoem” Cornered in the Dark to explore the psycho logical aftermath of sexual assault on’t say don’t to Diane Syrcle and Susan nah Mars because they’re sure to turn around and do. The two well-known Portland vocalists— and anointed “divas” of the Portland Gay Men’s Chorus— have teamed up to bring you Everybody Says Don’t, a spirited, eclectic evening Nov. 16, 23 and 30 at W ilf’s Restau rant and Piano Bar, 800 N.W. Sixth Ave. Syrcle, the director of Portland Youth Phil harmonic, has lent her soprano talents to the Portland Opera, the Oregon Symphony and others. Mars has been wooing regional audi ences with Broadway numbers for years. Last year, they found themselves sharing the stage at a PGM C benefit wearing gigantic bouffant wigs and singing a tune from Hair spray. “It was a turning point,” said Syrcle. “I was belting, she was singing high...our worlds final ly collided. We decided it was time to do a show.” f you’re looking for emotionally charged decadent theatricality, you’ll find it on Aladdin Theater’s stage Nov. 15, when the Dresden Dolls— a Boston-based musical duo I who recently conquered their hometown hy winning a handful of Boston Music Awards, including Best Live Act— bring their “punk cabaret” act to Portland. The two Dolls— Amanda Palmer (song writer, vocalist, keyboards) and Brian Viglione (drums, the occasional guitar)— put on make up, don anachronistical^' formal, dandified attire and use incongruous whimsy and insane ly catchy nursery-rhyme rhythms to explore themes of loneliness, mental breakdowns, sex/gender rebellion and the malaise of encroaching conformity. The result, as heard on their self-titled album, is an intense balanc ing act between the literally hysterical and the mordantly hilarious that could easily draw lis teners from the fan bases of Tori Amos or Fiona Apple. The Dresden Dolls’ aural and visual style stands in stark contrast to the dressed-down earnestness of much of today’s “alternative” music scene, hut, according to Palmer, their focus is more on following their own artistic path than on making aesthetic statements. “I consider myself, first and foremost, a per former,” she says. “Then a songwriter, musician, singer.. .there are plenty of artists out there who feel a kind of cultural or political responsi bility. I’d prefer to inspire our audience to take that job on themselves.” But Palmer does acknowledge the group’s attention-grabbing visual presentation. “1 [used to have] a real aversion to costumes and makeup on stage,” she says. “But to say it works is an understatement. There’s a freedom in wearing ‘performance’ clothes. In an age where costumes and makeup are suspect and jeans and T-shirts on stage are the uniform of authenticity, we do stick out like a sore thumb. But I’believe the music cuts through that very' effectively...our image enhances our sound, rather than distracts from it.” Although both Palmer and Viglione are straight, their progressive, cheeky take on sex and gender has fueled a kinship between the Dresden Dolls and the queer community, and Palmer unequivocally considers her group queer-friendly. “Brian and I straddle different so-called ‘gender roles’ depending on the weather,” Palmer says, “and our early core fan base in Boston was the performance art and queer scenes. Some of our most devoted fans have come from the gay and trans communities, which doesn’t surprise me at all considering the identity/gender-crisis nature of some of our songs.” Diane Syrcle lets the fur fly this month in her cabaret with Susannah Mars at Wilf’s With a little help from pianist Carol Lucas, Syrcle and Mars set about combining their repertoires. When it came to finding a title for the show, Sondheim’s “Everybody Says Don’t” was a shoo-in with lyrics like “Laugh at the kings or they’ll make you cry...Fall if you have to/But lady, make a noise!” “Here we are a straight woman and a les bian, coming together to make beautiful music,” said Syrcle. But before you get misty-eyed, Syrcle also promises “there will he a real catfight, blowout, fur-flying extravaganza— musically speaking,” including a duet from A venue Q. Syrcle will sing a love sting to her sweet heart, Susan Leo. Plus she says she’ll gladly give up the limelight for a moment to listen to “Blue” hy William Bolcum “sung by the divine Ms. Mars." Shows are at 7:30 p.m. with a $15 cover. Reservations recommended from 503-223-0070. j n Compiled by M eg D aly , C hristopher M c Q uain and A aron S oott
