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Where does voguing come from, and what, exactly, is throwing shade? This landmark documentary provides a vibrant snapshot of the 1980s through the eyes of New York City's African American and Latinx Harlem drag-ball scene. Made over seven years, PARIS IS BURNING offers an intimate portrait of rival fashion "houses," from fierce contests for trophies to house mothers offering sustenance in a world rampant with homophobia, transphobia, racism, AIDS, and poverty. Featuring legendary voguers, drag queens, and trans women — including Willi Ninja, Pepper LaBeija, Dorian Corey, and Venus Xtravaganza.
The most beautiful movie I've ever seen. Not in aesthetic, but in spirit; watching these stunning men and women live so freely, so safely, and so joyfully in this safe space they've created, a space where they're allowed to be themselves as much as they're allowed to be the dream versions of themselves– it's like a religious experience. There's nothing as wonderful as watching people feeling on top of the world that wants to kick them down. Couldn't help but smile through so much of it– I am warm and full of love!! God bless Pepper LaBeija. Happy Pride, everyone.
In many documentaries, there's a moment where it's revealed that a person we've been following for a while now actually died-- or rather, has been dead. Usually the person being interviewed about it starts to weep. We were close to this very real person. We became intimate with their lives through the camera's lens. We were part of their world for this one brief snippet of it.
In this film, the person being interviewed doesn't cry. She makes it very clear how much she misses her. How much she meant to her. How much it hurts that she's gone. But she doesn't cry.
"That's part of life. As far as being a transsexual in New York City and surviving." At the end of the day, she's still surviving. That's all anybody wants, really.
When Madonna came out with her hit "Vogue" you knew it was over. She'd taken a very specifically queer, transgender, Latino and African-American phenomenon and totally erased that context with lyrics about how "It makes no difference if you're black or white, if you're a boy or a girl." Madonna was taking in tons of money, while the Queen who actually taught her how to vogue was sitting at a table in front of me, broke. So if anybody requested "Vogue" or any other Madonna track, I just told them, "No, this is a Madonna-free zone! And as long as I'm DJ-ing, you will not be allowed to vogue to the decontextualized, reified, corporatized, liberalized, neutralized, asexualized, re-genderized pop reflection of this dance floor's reality!"
Found myself thinking of Venus Xtravaganza all day today. Cried and cried and cried listening to her speak on the hopes and dreams she had for her future with her partner. Knowing how her life ended breaks me every time I think about it. The shot of Venus, with the sunset behind her, is one I think of often. An ethereal woman, just as all the other women and drag queens featured are. Beautiful, incredible people.
Pride is coming up soon and I feel a lot of joy about it but I also feel so much heartache and pain. So many of our elders were lost to us because of homophobic and/or transphobic fueled violence, because of governmental neglect, because…
God, please just let us celebrate while we're here. Let us dance and open up the world to one another. We want to live out our dreams and be the people who we always wanted to be. We'll reach for that safe place where we can exist and let everything else fall out of vision. This hyper awareness of appearance, actions and danger should rest long enough so we can move to song. An opening in a void where everything isn't pitch black so we can come out and shout who we are. We're Xtravaganza and we're proud. And we live hand in hand without the worry of a real world. Everything's a ball and we'd vogue for hours into the sunlight and walk home safely and rest like everyone else, and when dusk comes around again we'd do it once more with no fear of rejection, personhood or danger. We'd be home. If only for a moment.
that shot of venus xtravaganza on the pier at dusk next to the massive boombox, her image immortalized on film, is simply one of the most profoundly touching moments in a profoundly moving film.
Exactly two years ago I drank a lot of coconut rum and ended up lying on the floor of my apartment at 2 AM, watching Paris Is Burning on Netflix. (I threw up all the next day.) Last year I did it again, albeit drinking much less, and now tonight it's the third January 17 in a row I've observed this tradition. I hope I watch it again a year from now, too, because if any movie should be an annual experience it's Paris Is Burning, the documentary I hold most dear.
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