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Jake Shears on his book, tour, album and gay life in the Big Easy

Glam gender-bender plays 9:30 Club on Halloween

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Jake Shears, gay news, Washington Blade

Jake Shears says an announcement is coming soon about his Halloween D.C. show. (Photo by Raphael Chatelain)

Jake Shears needed some time to find his footing.

“After more than a decade as one of pop music’s most cocksure and buoyant frontmen,” his press bio says, “Shears suddenly found himself alone and adrift a few years ago, nursing a broken heart and staring down an uncertain future.”

Since the early 2000s, Shears had anchored Scissor Sisters, the glam-pop band known for hits like “Filthy/Gorgeous,” “I Don’t Feel Like Dancin,’” “Fire with Fire” and “Let’s Have a Kiki.” They went on indefinite hiatus after the 2012 album “Magic Hour” but it took some time for Shears, who found himself single in 2015 after the demise of a decade-plus relationship, to figure out what was next.

After relocating to New Orleans in search of inspiration, he’s come roaring back in 2018 with a January stint as Charlie in “Kinky Boots” on Broadway, the February release of his memoir “Boys Keep Swinging” and his eponymous debut solo album, which came out last month to solid reviews. He kicks off a North American solo tour next month and plays Washington’s 9:30 Club on Halloween.

He spoke to the Blade by phone Sept. 7 from his apartment in New Orleans. His comments have been slightly edited for length.

WASHINGTON BLADE: Was it hard adjusting to the humidity?

JAKE SHEARS: No, I love it. I’m heading to London tonight and I’m just thinking like, “Oh God, I can’t just walk outside in a tank top and gym shorts 24 hours a day there.” I love it down here so much. It’s a pretty good life.

BLADE: So you live in New Orleans pretty much all the time now when you’re not touring?

SHEARS: Yeah, I’m walking into my apartment right now. I split my time. I end up all over the place but it’s where I am for long stretches of the year. … I spend about a third of the year here.

BLADE: Do you get recognized much there when you’re just out doing your normal routine?

SHEARS: Well it’s like a small town here so you kind of get to know everybody anyway and then on weekends, like Decadence was last weekend and there were lots of gays in town so yeah. But other than that, not really. It’s just a really small town here so everybody already kind of knows one another.

BLADE: What’s gay life like in the South? Just with friends, dating, sex — all that.

SHEARS: Well down here you don’t necessarily want to date other locals. … If you do sleep with somebody down here, you’re gonna see them for the rest of your life so you have to really think about whether you want that or not. But it’s just a funny little thing. It’s a sexy place to be. There’s always a huge influx of tourists so there’s always fresh faces and not only that, it’s people who are happy to be here and it’s a good vibe overall. It’s a very romantic city. You don’t have to wear a lot of clothes. It kind of fosters romance and flirtiness.

BLADE: You said in another interview you went there seeking inspiration. How long were you there before that really hit and the songwriting started?

SHEARS: About a week, maybe two weeks. It was pretty early on. I think it was more about the decisions I’d made in my life. I was making some big decisions just for myself that I needed to make. I really needed to change my life and once I made the decision to do that, moving to New Orleans was kind of symbolic and was part of that. And, you know, when that happens, when I’m happy and on the right path, I start writing songs. It didn’t take very long.

BLADE: I read that you recorded the album in live takes straight through and said that was nerve wracking. Now that it’s all done, was it worth it?

SHEARS: Oh my God, yeah. I couldn’t be happier with this thing. It’s been a big project and it’s nerve wracking in a way because just over the whole thing, I put a lot on the line. I hope I get to make a record like this again someday — just making a record exactly the way I want to. As far as the cost/benefit analysis, it cost me a lot. Just financially and time wise and all that stuff, but the benefit on the other side is that I’ve made something I’m just incredibly happy with and proud of.

BLADE: Was it hard to keep it fresh doing take after take in the studio?

SHEARS: No, no, no, no. When you’re recording like that, everybody was so rehearsed. It was really exciting. It never got boring, that’s for sure.

BLADE: When you were writing and/or recording “Creep City,” did you have a hunch it would be the first single or did that come later?

SHEARS: You know, it was really a toss up. I don’t think there was a really obvious first single on this record. I think it could have been a whole bunch of songs. I chose that song because I felt it was really good overall and I felt it really represented the whole album just sonically and I just felt like it was a great liftoff for the record. … I could also visualize a video for it. It’s one of my favorites on the record. It just sort of represented the whole thing in a way.

BLADE: Would you say this is your breakup album? That’s such a thing, were you conscious of wanting to avoid any clichés?

SHEARS: I don’t know if I can answer that. I don’t think it feels like a breakup album. I mean, this isn’t Beck’s “Sea Change.” It’s a pretty fun record. I don’t think it’s really about a breakup, I think it’s more about reassessing myself and sort of rediscovering who I am in this moment in time and I think it has less to do with a breakup necessarily, although that’s in there. Would you say that?

BLADE: Well, listening to it, I felt it was very bombastic and joyous so I was surprised when I read the lyrics and saw how dark some of it is.

SHEARS: Yeah, I love that and that’s one of my favorite things to do. I have like a real big dark streak in me and I love making happy, really fun music that has heavier themes to it. I just love that juxtaposition. That’s absolutely there, but it was really important to me to make, you know, a fun record with different colors to it. I love making my ballads too. That’s definitely part of what I do.

BLADE: Why did you feel now was the time for a memoir?

SHEARS: I wrote the book at the same time I was making the album and I thought it was really good as I was sort of reassessing where I am and who I am now, I had to go back and reassess where I’ve been and what I’ve done and I think they both kind of informed each other and it was sort of a good way to put certain things to bed in a way and make peace with certain things. It’s kind of a cliché to say it was good therapy but in a way it was good to reevaluate parts of my life while I was making this new thing and it was awesome to get to do both of them together.

BLADE: Would you like to do more Broadway or was “Kinky Boots” a one-off?

SHEARS: No, I do, I do. I love it so much. I mean, theater is a world I love being in. I love writing theater and making musicals. Now I love being in them. I definitely am going to continue. Now that’s part of my DNA and I absolutely would love to be in another show and I’m going to be writing more shows.

BLADE: How vocally taxing was it compared to your regular stuff?

SHEARS: I gotta say, it was really hard. Those Cyndi Lauper songs are no joke. They’re really tough and I worked and worked really hard at it. You know, your voice gets stronger and everything but doing eight shows a week like that, it’s also cumulatively exhausting and so by the end — I did about a hundred performances — I was really having to crank up the engine to get that final high note and the big punch at the end of the song. So it was super challenging, yeah.

BLADE: When you’ve been off the grid for a while, do you have to get back in shape or do you always stay pretty trim?

SHEARS: Goodness (laughs). I’ve got my moments. I’m a Libra so I have a lot of balance in my life. I work really, really hard and I play really, really hard. I really try to keep a balanced existence. I’m constantly just trying to take care of myself in the midst of the chaos of what I do.

BLADE: But you never just put on 20 pounds when you’re off the road for a year or something like that?

SHEARS: Oh, I’ve had moments of not being as in shape as I wanna be but I’m doing the best to take care of myself when I’m eating well or whether that’s just getting enough sleep and not drinking too much. I just do my best to try to feel as good as I can because otherwise life just isn’t much fun.

BLADE: Where did that cool vintage car in the “Big Bushy Mustache” video come from?

SHEARS: It’s my neighbor’s, LeRoy. I’m looking out right now at his back yard. He’s in the video too. The videos you see from this album are basically community productions. I made those videos out of my pocket on a shoestring and everybody from the locations to the costumes — everything that you see, people pitched in, everybody got together and it was so much fun. It took over a hundred people to make those videos and that’s one of the things that really warms my heart. It was a whole bunch of people banding together. The “Creep City” video — that’s just a snapshot of the New Orleans community.

BLADE: Is it going to be hard sequencing in Scissor Sisters material with the new stuff on tour?

SHEARS: No. I’ve just done a bunch of shows in the U.K. and it’s a really good pace I’ve got with the Scissors stuff. I’ve chosen certain songs very strategically and it’s fun mixing them up. I went out of my way to make sure this new stuff is part of the same body of work. I wanted it to feel that way and I wanted to be able to present it all as my body of work. In the show, it definitely goes together.

BLADE: You’re playing our market on Halloween. Do you have a costume planned or will your show be much different that night?

SHEARS: Oh, we have a big announcement to make about it that we’re saving but yeah, it’s gonna be really special. I’m just saying for now — nobody plan your costume just yet. There will be an announcement coming that I’m really excited about. You’ll find out soon.

BLADE: Are you touring with people who played on the album?

SHEARS: Oh yeah. Mr Hudson is on bass, Craig Pfunder is on guitar who does all the music director stuff, he plays guitar on my record. Mr Hudson, I wrote a bunch of songs with. Right now I’ve got Patrick Hallahan from My Morning Jacket on drums and I’ve got this amazing saxophonist, this awesome guy named Stephen J. Gladney on sax. So this is a pretty crackerjack band. It’s a great band.

BLADE: Was it an easier transition to the stage than usual since you recorded these songs live in the studio?

SHEARS: In a way because a lot of these songs were originally written with either guitar or piano. When you start small with a song then make it bigger, it just makes it easier. It was written in a very different way from the way I normally always wrote stuff. It’s been fun to play it from the top. It hasn’t been a huge challenge.

BLADE: I know it’s a much different style of music, but do you feel much kinship with Rufus Wainwright? For so many years, you two were about the gayest thing we had pretty much.

SHEARS: Oh my God, absolutely. I think you can hear, he’s a huge influence on my music and we’ve always been friends and I think he’s amazing, just a one-of-a-kind person. I think he’s brilliant and hilarious and I just love him a lot and I’m proud — if he’s my peer and part of my generation of music or if we’re viewed on any kind of level together, then I’m really proud of that.

BLADE: Lots of male pop singers today are doing the falsetto thing like you. Who has the best male falsetto voice?

SHEARS: You mean right now?

BLADE: Any era.

SHEARS: I would just have to say the Gibbs. You know, I was just listening to “Nights on Broadway” last week and it’s just so good. There are moments where they could do it perfect, then they could also do it ragged and imperfect as well and it just sounded so good. So I mean, I feel like they’re kind of the kings of that.

BLADE: Have you heard Troye Sivan’s new record?

SHEARS: Just the singles. I gotta sit down and listen to the whole thing. I’m really excited about it. What do you think?

BLADE: I like it. It’s so nice to see someone singing about gay life so unabashedly.

SHEARS: Seriously. I’m so happy about it. I love the singles and it seems like people are absolutely loving the album. I’m glad you reminded me of it. I’m gonna give the whole thing a listen today. But yeah, I want to see that really go through the roof. He deserves it and it’s just time. I just think we’ve waited long enough. It’s time for a big, queer just pop star and yeah, I just think it’s time so I’m very excited.

BLADE: Do you have any pet peeves about celebrity culture of the way it’s covered in media?

SHEARS: There’s nothing I hate more than a headline that says somebody is “clapping back” at so and so. Or so and so, “claps back.” Basically just news stories about people fighting on Twitter. That’s a pet peeve of mine. It’s just the snake eating itself.

BLADE: Why do you think the Scissors were bigger in the U.K. than the U.S.? Does the Hot 100 here just reflect more of the hetero, rednecky parts of the country?

SHEARS: Well I think it was just a narrative that took hold and I can pinpoint the top of that narrative. I talk about it in my book. We were over there working for like six months before we broke over there and at that time, album releases were staggered so we released in the U.K. in February and we didn’t come out in the U.S. until July so we broke in the U.K. in June. So when we put out our record, we were just getting started again and the New York Times wrote a little sidebar with the headline that said, “Scissor Sisters hot over there, cool over here” and I credit that one thing in the New York Times, that really snarky little piece to starting that narrative. I think that’s why I still get that question. I don’t think we entirely got a fighting chance over here but over the years, it kind of leveled out. By the time we put our our fourth record, we were at the Palladium two nights, we were at Terminal 5 two nights, so the whole thing leveled out. We had extraordinary success over there, the kind of success that barely anybody has anywhere, so I don’t necessarily — I just think it was an extraordinary moment and I’ve never ever felt we were less successful over here at all. … It doesn’t really bother me. But I think that’s the origins of it, this tale of the Scissor Sisters on both sides of the Atlantic.

BLADE: Any birthday plans? (Shears turns 40 Oct. 3)

SHEARS: I was going to Mexico City with a bunch of my friends and now they’re going but I had to cancel. Some work stuff came up so I’m heading to London tonight. I’m really excited about the work I’m doing, don’t get me wrong, but I’m kind of missing my own 40th birthday which is kind of sad. So no, I don’t really have any plans. Believe it or not, I think it might just be kind of a quiet, reflective one.

BLADE: Did you ever think about doing a solo album when the Scissors were together or was there just not really time? It’s not unheard of.

SHEARS: It never really crossed my mind as something I really wanted to do. I always thought a solo record would feel really sort of narcissistic. I never really thought of myself as a solo performer. I was always kind of shy about that. Even when I would do appearances without the band, I would always feel very much like, “Why am I here, I don’t really belong here.” I’ve always kind of had that self doubt thing when I was by myself. So no, I don’t really. But it’s been a little bit of a personal — I hate the word journey — but it’s been like a little bit of a road to get to the spot where I can, you know, feel like there’s a reason for me to be singing on my own.

BLADE: You’ve played a lot with genderfuck in photos and magazine shoots. Do you like to wear dresses or paint your nails in your regular life?

SHEARS: Oh, I love wearing big frilly dresses (laughs). Especially in New Orleans. Like for Decadence, I have a naughty nurse uniform. Everybody was in harnesses and I have my little candy striper outfit. So, I don’t know, it’s just that I have a good time wearing a dress sometimes. I don’t even really think about it. I’m just kind of drawn to what feels good.

BLADE: Do you think there will be deluxe reissues of the Scissor Sisters albums eventually? Are there many outtakes from those sessions? B-sides and alternate takes and stuff like that.

SHEARS: My dream for the 10th anniversary of “Night Work” is to do — there’s a whole album that’s attached to that that was scrapped. There’s this whole lost record to that that I would love to put out in 2020. I’m hoping Babydaddy and I can get together to do that. I would love for people to hear that stuff. Just great songs.

BLADE: This is all just sitting on a hard drive somewhere?

SHEARS: Yeah, yeah, yeah. Totally. And there’s a lot of it. There’s hundreds of songs.

BLADE: What was the longest or most arduous video shoot you ever did?

SHEARS: The “Comfortably Numb” video. It was two days in a big water tank in Devon, England and …. it was a very, very, very tough video to shoot. I got very sick afterwards.

BLADE: You’ve talked about enjoying the freedom the solo record has afforded you but it also seemed like you held an enormous amount of influence in Scissors. I know you dug in your heels about the controversial Mapplethorpe butt photo for “Night Work,” for example. So how strong was that itch really?

SHEARS: Well the thing about being a band is you just want everybody, yeah, you’ve got your vision and what not but also you want everybody to be happy and you want everybody to feel like they’re represented. I definitely had my own vision for the band that was implemented in many ways, but at the same time, the thing that’s nice about doing stuff by myself is that I don’t have to worry about making everybody happy. … All I have to worry about is making myself happy and that’s an amazing feeling creatively and it’s made me feel very liberated in a lot of ways.

BLADE: Are you seeing anybody now?

SHEARS: No, I’m not. I wish I could but I’m not physically in the same place enough now to really be able to spend enough time with anybody that it would really make sense. I don’t know if it’s gonna be possible for me for awhile because (of that) which is kind of a bummer. I’d love to be in a relationship. I’m definitely romantic and I get lonely and I would definitely love to have that connection with somebody. But it wouldn’t be fair to somebody else to not be around.

BLADE: Do you have a type?

SHEARS: I used to think I did but now I’m really only truly attracted to somebody when I spend a lot of time with someone and get to know them. Maybe it’s just a thing about getting older but it’s a lot more about personality to me now and I can get surprised by somebody. I’ll always realize that somebody can be right in front of you and you don’t even know it yet. So my thing is just about getting to know somebody and that’s what I’m into. It could be any kind of type, but it’s just more about who somebody is.

BLADE: Are you and your ex on speaking terms? Were you able to salvage any friendship out of that?

SHEARS: Oh yeah, absolutely. I love him very much and I’m proud of him and he’s an amazing person. He was actually just calling my phone a few minutes ago when we were talking. But yeah, absolutely. And we co-parent a little border terrier so we’re very much still connected.

BLADE: Were there any epiphanies about yourself that surprised you writing the book and album?

SHEARS: I think the main thing that I learned from all of it is I used to kind of think that there was always some kind of a deadline all the time and I think I just really learned, just as far as the work itself, I just want to make good stuff that I love and that’s totally satisfying to me. So whether it takes another five years for me to write another record now, I really don’t care just as long as it’s something that I love and that means something to me. That’s the most important thing about putting stuff out in the world. And by the way, that’s a lesson I keep learning over and over and over again since day one. It’s always something I keep realizing.

Jake Shears, gay news, Washington Blade

Jake Shears says it took time to find his creative footing after the Scissor Sisters parted ways six years ago. (Photo by Greg Gorman)

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Hip-Hop’s complicated history with queer representation

At 50, experts say the genre still doesn’t fully welcome LGBTQ inclusion

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Rapper Lil Nas X faced backlash for his music video ‘Montero,’ but it debuted atop the Billboard 100.

I didn’t really start listening to rap until my college years. Like many queer Black children who grow up in the closet, shielded by puritanical Christianity from the beauty of a diverse world, I longed to be myself. But the affirming references I could pull from — in moments of solitude away from the wrath and disdain of family and friends — were in theater and pop music.

The soundtrack to my teenage years was an endless playlist of pop divas like Lady Gaga and Beyoncé, whose lyrics encouraged me to sashay my hips anytime I strutted through a long stretch of corridor.

I was also obsessed with the consuming presence of powerful singers like Patti LaBelle, Whitney Houston, and the hypnosis that was Chaka Khan. My childhood, an extrapolation of Tuesdays, Thursdays, Saturdays and Sundays spent in church groups, choir practices, and worship services, necessitated that I be a fan of throaty, from-the-stomach singing. But something about the way these artists presented themselves warmed my queer little heart. LaBelle wore avant garde geometric hairdos paired with heavily shoulder-padded blazers. Houston loved an elegant slender gown. And Khan? It was the voluminous red mane that gently caressed her lower back for me. 

Listening to rap music in college was a political experience. My sociology classes politicized me and so it was only natural that I listened to rap music that expressed trauma, joy, and hope in the Black experience. However, I felt disconnected from the music because of a dearth of queer representation in the genre. 

Nevertheless, groups like Outkast felt nostalgic. While delivering hedonistic lyrics at lightning speed, André 3000 — one half of the rap duo — mesmerized with his sleek, shoulder-length silk pressed hair and colorful, flowing shirts and trousers — a style that could be translated as “gender-bending.” Despite the patriarchal presentation rampant in rap and Hip-Hop, Andr​​é 30000 represented to me, a kind of rebellious self-expression that I so badly wanted to emulate but couldn’t because of the psychological confines of my conservative upbringing. 

My discovery of Outkast was also sobering because it was a stark reminder of how queerness is also often used as an aesthetic in Hip-Hop while actual queer people are shunned, rebuked, and mocked. Queer people in Hip-Hop are like backstage wingmen, crucial to the development of the show but never important enough to make a curtain call. 

As Hip-Hop celebrates 50 years since its inception in New York City, I am filled with joy because it’s been half a century of Black people owning their narratives and driving the culture. But it’s fair to ask: At whose expense? 

A viral 2020 video shows rapper Boosie BadAzz, famed for hits like “Set It Off” and “Wipe Me Down,” rebuking NBA star Dwayne Wade and award-winning actress Gabrielle Union-Wade for publicly supporting their then-12-year-old daughter after she came out as transgender. 

“Don’t cut his dick off, bro,” said BadAzz with furrowed eyebrows and a gaze that kept turning away from the camera, revealing his tarnished diamond studs. “Don’t dress him as a woman dawg, he’s 12 years. He’s not up there yet.” 

The responses from both Wade and Union-Wade were a mixture of swift, sarcastically light-hearted, and hopeful.

“Sorry Boosie,” Union-Wade said to an audience during a live podcast appearance at Live Talks Los Angeles. “He’s so preoccupied, it’s almost like, ‘thou doth protest too much, Little Boos.’ You’ve got a lot of dick on your mind.”

Wade also appeared on an episode of podcast, “I AM ATHLETE,” and looked directly into the camera.

“Boosie, all the people who got something to say, J-Boogie who just came out with [something] recently, all the people who got something to say about my kids,” he said. “I thank you because you’re allowing the conversation to keep going forward because you know what? You might not have the answers today, I might not have the answers, but we’re growing from all these conversations.” 

This exchange between the Wades and BadAzz highlights the complicated relationship between Black LGBTQ individuals and allies and the greater Hip-Hop and rap genres and communities. While Black queer aesthetics have long informed self-expression in Hip-Hop, rappers have disparaged queerness through song lyrics and in interviews, or online rants like BadAzz, outside the recording studio. 

And despite LGBTQ rappers like Queen Latifah, Da Brat, Lil Nas X, and Saucy Santana achieving mainstream success, much work lies ahead to heal the trauma that persists from Hip-Hop’s history of  patriarchy and homophobia. 

“‘Progression’ will always be relative and subjective based on one’s positionality,” said Dr. Melvin Williams said in an email. Williams is an associate professor of communication and media studies at Pace University. “Hip-hop has traditionally been in conversation with queer and non-normative sexualities and included LGBTQ+ people in the shaping of its cultural signifiers behind the scenes as choreographers, songwriters, make-up artists, set designers, and other roles stereotypically attributed to queer culture.”

“Although Hip-Hop incorporates queerness in their ethos, ideas, and trends, it does not privilege the prospect of an out LGBTQ+ rapper. Such reservations position LGBTQ+ people as mere labor in Hip-Hop’s behind-the-scenes cultivation, but not as rap performers in its mainstream distribution,” he added. 

This is especially true for Queen Latifah and DaBrat who existed in the genre for decades but didn’t publicly come out until 2021. Still, both faced backlash from the Black community for daring to challenge gender roles and expectations. 

Queen Latifah dodged questions about her sexuality for years before acknowledging her partner and their son in 2021. (Photo by DFree via Bigstock)

Lil Nas X also faced backlash for his music video “Montero” with satanic references, including one in which he slides down a pole and gives a character representing the devil a lap dance. Conservatives such as South Dakota Gov. Kristi Noem accused him of trying to scandalize children. 

“You see this is very scary for me, people will be angry, they will say I’m pushing an agenda. But the truth is, I am,” Nas X said in a note that accompanied “Montero.” The agenda to make people stay the fuck out of other people’s lives and stop dictating who they should be.”

Regardless, “Montero” debuted atop the Billboard 100. 

In an article published in “Souls: A Critical Journal of Black Politics, Culture, and Society,” scholar C. Riley Snorton posited that celebrating queer visibility in mainstream media could be a problem as this kind of praise relies on artists presenting in acceptable forms of gender and sexuality expression and encourages representation that is “read alongside…perceptions of Hip-Hop as a site of Black misogyny and homophobia.” 

In the case of Frank Ocean, who came out in 2012 prior to the release of his album “Channel Orange,” his reception was warmer than most queer Hip-Hop artists because his style of music is singing, as opposed to rapping. Because of this, his music was viewed more as R’n’B or pop. 

“Frank Ocean ain’t no rapper. He’s a singer. It’s acceptable in the singing world, but in the rap world I don’t know if it will ever be acceptable because rap is so masculine,” rapper Snoop Dogg told the Guardian in 2013. “It’s like a football team. You can’t be in a locker room full of motherfucking tough-ass dudes, then all of a sudden say, ‘Hey, man, I like you.’ You know, that’s going to be tough.”

So what’s the solution for queer people in Hip-Hop? Digital media.

Williams, the Pace University professor, says that being divorced from record labels allows queer artists to be independent and distribute their music globally on their own terms. 

“We witnessed this fact with artists such as Azealia Banks, Cakes Da Killa, Fly Young Red, Kevin Abstract, iLoveMakonnen, Lil Nas X, Mykki Blanco, and Saucy Santana, as well as legacy LGBTQ Hip-Hop acts like Big Freeda, DeepDickCollective, and Le1f,” he said. “The music industry has experienced an increasingly mobilized market due to the rise of digital media, social networking platforms, and streaming services.”

“More importantly, Black queer Hip-Hop artists are historicizing LGBTQ+ contributions and perspectives in documentaries, films, news specials, public forums, and podcasts. Ultimately, queer people engaging in Hip-Hop is a revolutionary act, and it remains vital for LGBTQ+ Hip-Hoppers to highlight their cultural contributions and share their histories,” he added. 

(Hip-Hop pioneers Public Enemy and Ice-T will headline The National Celebration of Hip-Hop, free concerts at the West Potomac Park on the National Mall in D.C. on Oct. 6 and 7.)

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Cuisine and culture come together at The Square

D.C.’s newest food hall highlights Spanish flavors

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(Photo by Scott Suchman)

Downtown got a bit tastier when “the next generation of food halls” opened its doors on Tuesday near the Farragut West Metro stop. Dubbed The Square, its half-dozen debut stalls are a Spanish-flecked mix of D.C. favorites, new concepts, and vendor-collaborative spirit.

After two years of planning – and teasing some big-name chefs – the market is, according to the owners, “where cuisine, culture, and community are woven together.”

Behind this ambitious project with lofty aims are Richie Brandenburg, who had a hand in creating Union Market and Rubén García, a creative director of the José Andrés Group who also was part of the team of Mercado Little Spain, the fairly new Spanish-themed Andres food hall in Hudson Yards.

Food halls have come a long way since the new Union Market awakened the concept a decade ago. Instead of simply rows of vendors in parallel lines, The Square has a new business model and perspective. This food hall shares revenue between the owners and its chef partners. Vendors are encouraged to collaborate, using one software system, and purchasing raw materials and liquor at scale together.

“Our goal was two-fold: to create a best-in-class hospitality offering with delicious foods for our guests; and behind the scenes, create the strong, complex infrastructure needed to nurture both young chefs and seasoned professionals, startups, and innovation within our industry,” says Brandenburg.

The Square has embraced a more chef-forward methodology, given that the founders/owners themselves are chefs. They’re bringing together a diverse mix of new talent and longtime favorites to connect, offer guidance to each other, and make the market into a destination. 

(Photos by Scott Suchman)

The first phase of The Square premiered this week. This phase encapsulates a selection of original concepts from well-known local chefs and business owners, and includes:

• Cashion’s Rendezvous – Oysters, crab cakes, and cocktails, from the owners of D.C. institutions and now-closed Cashion’s Eat Place and Johnny’s Half-Shell (Ann Cashion and John Fulchino).

• Jamón Jamón – Flamenco-forward food with hand-cut jamón Iberico, queso, and croquetas, sourced by García himself.

• Brasa – Grilled sausages and veggies are the stars here. Chef García oversees this Spanish street-food stall as well.

 Taqueria Xochi – Birria, guisado, and other street tacos, plus margs. Named after the ruins of Xochitecatl in Central Mexico, and from a Jose Andres alum.

• Yaocho – Fried chicken, juices, sweets, and libations.

• Junge’s – Churros and soft serve ice cream. Brandenburg and García both have a hand in this stall.

• Atrium Bar – The central watering hole for drinks. Atrium Bar serves cocktails, wine, and beer curated by The Square’s Beverage Director Owen Thompson.

“Having been part of Jose Andres’s restaurant group and getting to know Ruben and Richie, it’s amazing to see how their values align with ours at Taqueria Xochi. Seeing all these incredible chefs heading into Square feels like a full-circle moment,” said Geraldine Mendoza of Taqueria Xochi.

Slated for fall 2023, the next round of openings includes Flora Pizzeria, Cebicheria Chalaca, KIYOMI Sushi by Uchi, Shoals Market (a retail hub), and more. Additionally, chef Rubén García’s Spanish restaurant, Casa Teresa, will soon open next door to The Square.

The Square is just one of a handful of new food halls blossoming in and around D.C. Up in Brentwood, Md., miXt Food Hall is an art-adjacent space with tacos, a year-round fresh market, coffee, and beer. Across from Union Market is La Cosecha, a Latin marketplace with everything from street food to a Michelin starred restaurant and a festive vibe. Closer to The Square is Western Market by GW University, which opened in late 2021 with a buzzy, relaxed style.

For now, the Square is open Monday through Friday, 11 a.m. to 3 p.m. The Square plans to open on weekends and extend hours to offer dinner service in the coming months. A few alfresco seats will accompany the hall.

(Photo by Scott Suchman)
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Charles Busch reflects on the paths he didn’t take in new book

‘Leading Lady’ a riveting memoir from legendary entertainer

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'Leading Lady: A Memoir of a Most Unusual Boy' comes out on Sept. 12.

“Charles, I’m telling you, I go to plays in rat-infested basements where I’m the only one who shows up,” the late queer icon Joan Rivers once told the queer, legendary playwright, actor, director, novelist, cabaret performer and drag icon, Charles Busch. “I can see the actors peeking through the curtain and groaning, ‘Oh God, that old bitch in the fur coat is here. Does that mean we’ve gotta go on?’”

Busch reminded Rivers that she’d seen him perform in a rat-infested basement.

This is just one of the many stories that Busch, born in 1954, tells in his riveting memoir, “Leading Lady: A Memoir of a Most Unusual Boy,” which comes out on Sept. 12.

“Leading Lady” is a page-turner. Some of its tales of Busch’s life and career, such as his account of a Christmas party with Rivers as a guest, are dishy. Others, like his memories of trying to care for his beloved Aunt Lil, when he knew she was dying, would make even the Wicked Witch in Oz tear up.

The memoir, is, as Busch says on his website (charlesbusch.com), the story of “a talented artist’s Oz-like journey.” 

“Leading Lady” isn’t linear. This isn’t a detriment. Busch deftly intertwines memories of his life and career from his mom dying when he was seven to being raised by his loving Aunt Lil to being the author and star of the cult classic “Vampire Lesbians of Sodom” to watching Kim Novak handle fans to being the Tony-nominated writer of “Tales of the Allergist’s Wife” to being creative during the pandemic.

“Storytelling is a huge part of my life,” Busch told the Blade in a lengthy phone interview, “I get into various adventures and, I think, this could be a good story to tell.”

Interviewing Busch is like chatting with a fab storyteller over coffee or a glass of wine. Except that you’re talking to a legend who’s entertained and inspired queers (and discerning hetero audiences) for decades. (I’m wearing my “Vampire” T-shirt as I write this.)  

As a playwright, Busch writes “linear” plays, with a beginning, middle and an end, he said. As a cabaret singer, “the way I sing songs is telling a story,” Busch said.

Since childhood, he’s been creating vivid scenes in his imagination. From early on, Busch has felt as if he’s both a spectator and star in the movie of his life.

It seemed inevitable that he’d write a memoir. It’s the ultimate form of storytelling. “You reach a certain point in your life,” Busch said, “where you’re more reflective and see your life as a whole.”

“You reflect on the paths you didn’t take,” he added.

Busch spent his childhood in Hartsdale, N.Y. He had two older sisters, Betsy and Margaret. His mother’s death was devastating for Busch. His Aunt Lil and Joan Rivers have been among the women who have been “mothers” to Busch since his mom died.

Once, Busch said he and Rivers dined with friends. “Joan Rivers said ‘I wish I had a gay son I could phone at midnight and discuss whatever movie was on TCM,’” he recalled.

Busch would have loved to have been Rivers’s “gay son.”

Life in Hartsdale was hard for Busch after his mother passed away. His father was often absent and showed little interest in his children.

Things were miserable for Busch when his grandmother, for a time, cared for the family. He knew, as a boy, that he was gay and hated going to school where a movie-and-theater-loving kid who liked to draw wasn’t one of the cool kids.

Yet Busch forgave his “father’s failings,” he writes in “Leading Lady, “because he gave me the theater.”

Busch became entranced with the theater when his father, an aspiring opera singer who performed in summer stock, took him to the old Metropolitan Opera House in New York City to hear Joan Sutherland sing the role of Amina in Bellini’s “La Sonnambula.”

Busch was saved from a life of boredom and bullying when Aunt Lil, his mother’s sister, took him to live with her in Manhattan. There, like Auntie Mame, she raised him. She prodded him into applying to the High School of Music and Art in New York City. He was accepted there.

After high school, Busch graduated with a bachelor’s degree in drama from Northwestern University in 1976.

“My Aunt Lil is the leading lady [of the title of his memoir],” Busch said, “she was the most influential person in my life.”

One of the reasons why Busch wrote “Leading Lady” was to paint a full portrait of her. “It was important that it not be this kind of gauzy, sentimental memory piece,” he said, “making her out to be a saint.”

Aunt Lil adopted Bush when he was 14. Her goal was that he would go to college, become independent, be a survivor – make a place for himself in the world.

“I don’t know what would have happened if she hadn’t stepped in,” Busch said.

“She was very intellectual,” he added, “I’ve never met anyone [else] with such a pure devotion to thinking. It was a little intimidating.”

Aunt Lil’s standards for caring – for giving of oneself – were so high that it was almost impossible to meet them. “She believed that you should anticipate what people would need,” Busch said, “before they told you.”

Looking back, Busch is most proud of himself when, “I’ve gone past my natural self-absorption,” he said, “when I’ve thought of someone else.”

Busch is being too hard on himself. In “Leading Lady,” and when interviewed, he’s caring and curious as well as witty, savvy, and as you’d expect, a bit campy.

His sister Margaret died recently. “She declined gradually over nine months,” Busch, said, choking up, “I gave her my bedroom and I slept on my sofa.”

Like many of her generation, Aunt Lil didn’t understand queerness or drag. But she loved Busch. She didn’t go to see his productions, he said. “She could have gone like other parents,” he said, “and been tight-lipped. And said something nice that she didn’t believe.”

But “she didn’t want to lie or be hurtful,” Busch added, “so, for her, it was: can’t I just love and support you, and not go?”

Aunt Lil didn’t get Busch’s sexuality. But she knew about secrecy. Busch learned of a terrifying secret that his aunt had long kept hidden. In the 1930s, during the Depression, Aunt Lil worked as a nurse. One day, when she worked overtime, one of the patients suffered a burn. She had to leave nursing. “Her sister in a nasty mood revealed this,” Busch said, “Aunt Lil never discussed it.”

In the 1970s, Busch had trouble getting into theater because there were only roles for actors playing straight male characters. “The only way I could get on stage was to write my own roles,” he said, “I have a rather androgynous nature.”

Busch found that the feminine within him was a place of authority and strength. “I’m fine when I play male characters,” he said, “but I’m better when I play female characters.”

Why this is so liberating for him is a bit of a mystery to Busch. “But I accept and love it,” he said.

Times have changed since Busch made his first big splash with “Vampire Lesbians of Sodom.” “In 1985, being a drag queen was considered a negative,” Busch said, “my generation of drag performers bristled at being referred to as drag queens.”

Busch no longer bristles. “I feel like the characters,” he said, “I enjoy costumes and getting the right wig.”

“But, I go from male to female not through trickery or anything visual, I transfer through my soul.”

In “Leading Lady,” Busch recalls AIDS and other dark moments from the past. Many of his friends and colleagues died from AIDS. “AIDS was the World War II of our generation,” he said.

But Busch, in his memoir and in his life, isn’t only looking back. He’s very much in the present. Busch is embarrassed to say he was lucky. During the pandemic, devastating to many, he made art. He did play readings on Zoom and finished writing “Leading Lady” which he’d worked on for 14 years.

During the pandemic, Busch with Carl Andress co-wrote and co-directed the movie “The Sixth Reel.” The film’s cast includes Busch, Julie Halston (Busch’s longtime muse), Margaret Cho and Tim Daly.

Busch describes the film, an homage to the Hollywood madcap movies of the 1930s, as “a comic, caper movie.” 

“I play a disreputable dealer in movie memorabilia,” Busch said, “a legendary lost film is found, and I see it as my ticket out of debt.”

The “Sixth Reel” is playing from Sept. 21 to Sept. 27 at the LOOK Dine-In Cinema West 57th Street in New York City.

“I hope the run in New York will encourage people to distribute this little movie,” Busch said.

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