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Letting it all hang out at Pride — did it help us in the long run?

We asked a veteran bike dyke, drag queen, leather daddy and go-go dancer to share their first-hand experiences

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The images LGBT people project at Pride gatherings vs. marriage cases has historically been vastly different. (Washington Blade file photos by Michael Key)

Capital Pride and all Pride events have always been — historically and to this day — a place to let one’s hair down and for LGBT folks to be unabashedly themselves. 

Washington, widely seen as a more “buttoned-up” town than, say, New York or Los Angeles, was perhaps not as freewheeling as other cities, especially in the early years of Pride here when it was a one-day block party just off Dupont Circle beginning in 1975, but it’s grown hugely over the decades and for many years we’ve had all the revelers one would expect — scantily clad dancers gyrating around on parade floats, drag queens, leather daddies (sometimes in ass-less chaps), dykes on bikes (some topless) and more. 

Conversely, the image the movement presented in the marriage wars and with LGBT people seeking elected office, was much different. Barney Frank and Tammy Baldwin dressed as conservatively as their counterparts on Capitol Hill, there was never anything outré about plaintiffs like Edith Windsor and Jim Obergefell and not-so-surprisingly, current “it” boy wonder, presidential hopeful Pete Buttigieg, is a young, heteronormative-type white gay guy who’s from the Midwest and goes to church. 

The dichotomy has always existed as far back as the late Frank Kameny and the late Barbara Gittings demonstrating (pre-Stonewall) at the White House in skirts (for women) and suits (for men) while the gay masses — practically none out pre-’69 — tended to glom on more to the hippies than the Ozzie and Harriets. One of the organizers of the 1993 Gay March on Washington drew criticism from within LGBT circles for wearing leather to the White House to meet Bill Clinton. 

But given the mainstream media’s penchant for televising more flamboyant factions in its Pride coverage and political enemies on the right painting Pride gatherings as dens of debauchery, what kind of tension existed between the two extremes? And now 50-some years down the road, did any of it matter? Might we have gotten further faster if we’d somehow reined in our Pride season excesses?

Many folks say either no, it’s a self-hating query or it’s irrelevant. 

Or perhaps we needed both? 

That’s what Cathy Renna, a long-time PR and media LGBT expert formerly of GLAAD, says. 

“We need all of it. Why? Because we are all of it,” Renna says. “Our community is all of it and I think it’s disingenuous to even try to divide people over this. Why are we always trying to divide each other all the time? There are always gonna be folks out there going to Pride because they just want for that one day or one week out of the year, to let their hair down and celebrate, and when I say celebrate, I don’t mean just have a party and get drunk. I mean celebrate our community, celebrate our diversity, celebrate our resilience for goodness sake, celebrate the progress that, in some ways, we’re still hanging on to by a thread in the time we live in. Then get back to work the next day.”

Renna, GLAAD’s national news media director from ’95-’02 and a volunteer for several years prior, says the issue has ramifications in how it plays out among LGBT people and outside that sphere. 

As for the latter, Renna says historically it wasn’t so much about the media playing up “debauchery,” so much as it was looking for the most visual, arresting images.

“It was as much about their need to take a photo or shoot video of something different and interesting and highly visual than it was about homophobia or transphobia or wanting to find the more quote-unquote — and please include that because I don’t consider this to be true — but extreme parts of our community. Yes, drag queens and leather people are far more interesting than me and … what we fought for and I think eventually successfully achieved was a diversity of representation without diminishing, demeaning, minimizing or criticizing the parts of our community that are, to use the word of the day, flamboyant.” 

Renna says drag queens and leather daddies at Pride deserve respect.

1993 Gay Pride Day in D.C. (Washington Blade archive photo by Doug Hinckle)

“They were the ones who were brave enough to be themselves and who were raising money for VD clinics before AIDS was even an issue,” she says. “People used to say, ‘But that doesn’t represent me.’ Well guess what — you don’t represent them. We’re a diverse community and this is really about two things — the media’s role and how the media works, which a lot of people don’t understand, and how we within our own community have our own isms — our own internalized homophobia, racism, sexism and transphobia and how it plays out.”

But look at the plaintiffs in the marriage cases and various successful LGBT elected officials, the images they project and it’s not a huge leap to imagine there was some vetting and grooming going on behind the scenes. Sure, those arenas are much different than a Pride event, but even so, one imagines movement gatekeepers would have only been doing their due diligence in monitoring plaintiff or candidate deportment at critical times.

Mayor Pete Buttigieg (D-South Bend, Ind.) speaks at a campaign rally at City Winery in Washington, D.C. on April 4, 2019. (Washington Blade file photo by Michael Key)

Chuck Wolfe, former president/CEO of the Victory Fund from 2003-2015, says not really.

“I never participated in any conversation like that,” he says. “We had kind of an operating opinion at Victory when I was there that all is fair and it takes every part of our community moving the ball forward and one of the reasons we were successful as fast as we were is because there was no one controlling entity saying, ‘You have to do this,’ or, ‘You can’t do this,’ or, ‘You can’t do that.’ Everybody was doing their part whether it was at a Pride event, testifying on Capitol Hill — all of it mattered, every bit of it.”

Patrick Wojahn, out mayor of College Park, Md., who with his partner Dave Kolesar was one of the couples in the 2006 ACLU/Equality Maryland state marriage case, says it was made clear to him and other plaintiffs to be mindful of their status as representatives.

“One thing we were cognizant of and they made sure we understood was that we were representing the entire LGBT community and we were kind of the face of that,” Wojahn says. “We weren’t supposed to stand in for every single LGBT person out there, but when people saw us, it was understood that how LGBT act, for better or worse, and the political success or failure of what we were doing had a lot to do with how people perceived the LGBT community. It’s true in politics as well. It’s great to have places like Pride where people can act like freaks and do whatever comes upon them to do, but that’s a very different world than say politics where you have to come across as relatable to the people you’re trying to advocate for. It’s best in political situations if you don’t have to overcome that barrier of relatability. If you’re trying to sell people on the idea that we’re entitled to respect, it’s first helpful if they can relate to you on a personal level.”   

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Patrick Wojahn, on right, with his husband, Dave Kolesar in Annapolis, Md. at a celebration for marriage equality being signed into Maryland state law on March 1, 2012. (Washington Blade file photo by Michael Key)

Wojahn says he doubts there was ever much hand-wringing behind the scenes about Pride behavior, but says it’s become less and less of an issue over the years if it ever was one.

“Maybe this is just my skewed perspective of living in the D.C. metro area, but I think there’s been a growing recognition that not all gay people who live next to you are necessarily like the ones out dancing on the floats,” he says. “We’re just as diverse as straight and cisgender people. We have a lot of different things we’re interested in and do a lot of different things. Not all straight people do crazy things. … It’s important to have all different types of people out there being visible.” 

Not everyone sees it that way, however. Lloyd Shipley, a longtime 17th Street, N.W. resident, is 70, speaks with a deliciously gravelly voice and prides himself on being a sort of D.C. gay resident curmudgeon type. He’s been attending Capital Pride for 21 years since coming out of straight life (he was married twice to women) and says both Pride and LGBT people in general have gone increasingly downhill over the years. 

“This is just my opinion — I believe in opinions and we can have different ones — but I’m so tired of everything being so sexualized in the gay community,” Shipley says. “I feel like Pride has forgotten what Pride is about. You ask nine out of 10 people on Sunday what the theme is this year, they won’t know. But ask them what the best party was, they’ll all know that. I remember my first Pride, I was in Dupont Circle by myself because I didn’t know anybody and I saw float after float and I just cried because they were so meaningful. We should be proud of our accomplishments. Can we knock off the sex shit? Make the floats something to remember. Honor Frank Kameny. Honor Stonewall — not a bunch of guys walking around with their asses hanging out with squirt guns.”

Shipley says it’s not just a Pride problem, but overarching issues he considers rampant among D.C. gays just end up getting writ large there because of the size of the gathering. He says friends in his age bracket are equally fed up.

“I know a lot of older people who say, ‘You know what? I’m done with it. We haven’t been in 15 years.’”

He used to open his home to friends to watch the parade but got tired of ending up with a houseful of 50 people half of whom he says he didn’t know. It took the cake the year he says he found two guys he didn’t know having sex in his bed. This year he’s just inviting a few friends over. They may or may not watch the parade.

“It’s so disorganized,” he says. “It goes on and on, there are huge gaps in the flow, you’ll see float after float after float and none of them reflect the theme whatsoever. It’s gotta mean something. It can’t just be a bunch of half-naked guys throwing beads and squirting people. … I’m gonna write a book someday called ‘Thine Own Worst Enemy.’ We moan and groan about how things are but how much of it is our own damn fault?”

Renna says sensationalizing or using Pride footage as a scare tactic for Middle America may have worked in the short term here and there, but ultimately wasn’t successful.

“I think it did us a favor in that it pushed our visibility,” Renna says. “We pushed through it and it taught us that we need to be better at showing the full diversity of our community. It’s not about don’t show drag queens and leather people, it’s about don’t just show drag queens and leather people.”

Renna says the issue came up constantly in her years of media training. LGBT activists, especially, she says, in smaller markets, lamented the attention the drag queens and go-go boys would get.

“It’s because they’re interesting,” she says. “Be creative, do something interesting. I used to tell GLSEN chapters, rent a school bus, fill it with people, get creative, dress as crossing guards, be fun, be visible. People walking down the street in khakis and T-shirts? Not interesting!”

Wojahn says the whole thing can be touchy.

“If you’re trying to sell people on the idea that we’re entitled to respect, it’s first helpful to relate to them on a personal level,” he says. “You may be taking on a bit more than you can chew when you say, ‘I want you to accept that I’m LGBT, am in a committed relationship and want legal representation with this person, but I also want you to deal with the fact that I’m standing here topless with piercings.” 

We asked some early Capital Pride participants for their thoughts. 

Ella Fitzgerald, drag queen

Ella Fitzgerald at Gay Pride Day in 2003. (Washington Blade file photo)

Being a drag queen decade after decade ain’t easy. Just ask Ella Fitzgerald (aka Donnell Robinson), arguably Washington’s most veteran and highly regarded queen.

She remembers her first Capital Pride in 1986 and says it was a much different experience than it is today. Riding with a contingent of Academy of Washington queens in a convertible through Adams Morgan, she remembers being harassed.

“There were straight Latinos giving us the sign language of death signs,” she says. “They harassed the girls on the bikes with their tits out and all that. We’ve definitely come a long way since ’86. It’s much more accepted now. People understand the whole drag thing, the leather community. It’s very diverse now and I remember back in the ‘80s, even in our own community, there was so much discrimination between the drag, the leather and the lesbians. Yes, we still have a long way to go, but we have become much more accommodating of each other’s differences.”

Fitzgerald, 64 and a hairdresser by day, says she was never concerned about being filmed in an early Pride parade or festival. She says she was the first drag queen featured in Washingtonian magazine in 1984 and was happy for the coverage. 

She says things have, in her opinion, gotten a bit unnecessarily wild at times over the years.

“The gays who are more flamboyant and make it very obvious, I feel at times that has put a damper on everything we’re trying to achieve,” Fitzgerald says. “How do I say this? There are gays out there on a different level. More class, more sophistication and the younger kids, they’re like wild kids that have been let of a cage and they just act like, ‘I’m gonna do and say whatever I feel at the moment,’ going around in shorts and a T-shirt, ‘cause I want to be seen and I don’t care, this is me and if I want to marry a woman or a man — it’s a lot.”

On the other hand, she doesn’t believe in reining anything in just to be more palatable to straight people.

“Of course not,” she says. “We absolutely need all aspects of the rainbow. I grew up in the ‘70s and it’s amazing to see how far we’ve come in 40-some years. It makes me wonder what the future’s gonna be.”

JOEY DiGUGLIELMO

Margaret McCarthy, Outriders

Margaret McCarthy says she was never shy about being seen at Pride parades even 30 years ago. (Photo courtesy McCarthy)

Margaret McCarthy’s Capital Pride experience has evolved over the years.

She came out in the mid-‘80s and has been going to Capital Pride since about ’86 or ’87. She was a member of Open Door Metropolitan Community Church, a sister parish of sorts to MCC-D.C., and participated for years with other parishioners in the Pride parade. 

She got into motorcycles around 2009 through a former girlfriend and started riding in Pride with Dykes on Bikes around 2013. A break-off group called Outriders kind of took over a year or so later and eventually McCarthy joined their contingent. They usually have between 40-60 riders each year. Most are members but some join them just for the day. 

She agrees with Cathy Renna that a diversity of representation is needed at Pride and in the world in general.

“There are all kinds of people that are part of the gay community — the fairies, the drag queens and all that and that’s part of my community,” says the 54-year-old Montgomery County Police service aide for the 6th District Station in Gaithersburg. “I don’t have to necessarily get it or understand it. I love them and they are part of my community.”

McCarthy says sometimes PDAs get a bit much but it’s not really an LGBT thing.

“I’ve done it. I’ve been walking at Pride and grabbed my girlfriend for a kiss or whatever,” she says. “If you see a couple making out on the Metro or Pride or wherever, I don’t care if they’re gay or straight, I don’t think that’s appropriate. But at a Pride festival, absolutely, it’s about letting go. It’s the one day you can really let your hair down and be totally who you are.”

As for Pride images getting manipulated by political enemies, McCarthy agrees it happens but says LGBT revelers shouldn’t let it dampen their spirits.

“They make it look like it’s all about depravity and sex and stuff and yeah, it makes me mad because that’s not who we are and unfortunately, there are people who may not know gay people and think that’s the whole spectrum. They see that and say, ‘Well look at those faggots and dykes, they’re scum,’ so yeah, it makes me mad. But it’s just one part of our community, it’s not the whole community.” 

How has it changed?

McCarthy says she remembers getting harassed at early D.C. Pride events. 

“They would see we were with a church and they’d say, ‘How can you be Christian and gay, you’re totally violating the Bible.’ I don’t know if it was Westboro Baptist or who it was, but yeah, there was some of that in the early years.”

McCarthy had protections in writing at her job so she was never worried about being recognized at Pride. She was fully out by her mid-20s.

She says a few Outriders go topless or cover just their nipples.

“I just kind of shake my head and go, ‘Whatever.’ It doesn’t offend me. I don’t really get it — they must get horrible sunburn, but yeah, not many of us do it.” 

JOEY DiGUGLIELMO

Kenneth, go-go dancer

Our scantily clad dancer of yore, Kenneth, declined to give his last name. He danced nude at Secrets starting at age 18 from 1996-1999 but is in business now and says he prefers his clients today not know of his past work. 

He participated in several Pride parades on the Ziegfeld’s/Secrets float with Ella. The dancers would typically wear matching short shorts and Secrets tank tops.

“I don’t know what the rules are now, I think it’s relaxed a little, but we weren’t ever in thongs or bikinis or things like that,” he says. “We kept it a little more covered back then.”

He was fully out at the time and not fearful of being seen. He says most of the dancers then who were gay were out and not fearful of being seen. A few dancers were straight, he says, but “didn’t seem concerned about” being in a Pride parade.

Now 40, he remembers those years fondly.

“It was a very interesting thing to do when I was 19 or 20. I got to sew my wild oats and it was good experience overall. I learned a lot.”

Kenneth says it’s probably a non-issue today but he suspects more scandalous Pride behavior probably did work against LGBT rights in years past.

“There was a lack of exposure then so if all you saw through the ‘70s to the ‘90s was how they televised it, then you only knew part of the story. I think once there was more exposure, people understood that was only one aspect of the community.” 

He says Pride was a much different experience for everyone 20-30 years ago.

“For a lot of people, that was the only time they could be gay,” he says. “They weren’t able to dress and behave the way they wanted to the other 364 days of the year, it was back to their normal attire and behavior, so I would say it’s died down some because we can be ourselves more year round now. If you could only do that during Pride, people tended to go more over the top.” 

JOEY DiGUGLIELMO

John Watson, leather enthusiast

John Watson (Photo courtesy of Watson)

Gay leather enthusiast John Watson says he first got into the D.C. leather scene at age 16 when he and two male friends his age, who lived in Arlington, began going to the D.C. Eagle, the city’s only leather bar, around 1974.

It was a time when the city’s bars and nightclubs, both gay and straight, didn’t consistently require ID checks for young-looking customers, Watson says.

About one year later, in June 1975, shortly after he turned 17, Watson and his two gay friends attended D.C.’s first Gay Pride event, which consisted of a block party on 20th Street, N.W., near Dupont Circle.

Although the three were getting more and more into the leather scene and drove into D.C. nearly every weekend to go to the Eagle, neither of them wore leather at that first Pride block party, Watson says.

“We had on shorts and tank tops, which of course we took off and were shirtless,” he says. “But with the leather scene back then, people didn’t want to appear out in public in it. And thinking back, I don’t remember seeing anybody that first time in leather. There may have been, but I don’t remember seeing anybody in leather.”

It wasn’t until around 1980, Watson thinks, when the D.C. Pride festival had moved from 20th Street to the grounds of Francis School next to P Street Beach Park, that leather enthusiasts began attending Pride wearing leather clothes and gear.

“As it progressed more and more you saw more leather,” he says. “It was when people got to the point where they really weren’t scared, more or less around 1980. People got tired of being in the closet.”

Watson recalls that in the earlier years he and his friends, along with many others in the leather scene, were fearful of the possible repercussions of being publicly identified as leather guys. Being so identified would automatically out you as being gay, he says, as well as out you — even among gays — as being weird or odd.

“It was what you would call an underground community,” he says. “A lot of people felt it was not only strange but perverted, to be honest. If you were into that, you kept your mouth shut most of the time because you didn’t want anyone to know. Even the regular gay people were, ‘Oh, wow, that’s perverted.’ It wasn’t until the 1990s that I began to wear leather in public. Before that I would take it with me and put it on inside the clubs.”

Thankfully, Watson said, attitudes began to change as the LGBT rights movement became more visible and assertive in the 1980s and 1990s. He recalls seeing far more leather folks at D.C. Pride events in those years, possibly even more than what is seen in more recent years as the Pride events have become more “corporatized.”

Watson, who works in insurance, says he managed to keep his interest in leather separate from his work other than times he has worked at the Eagle. Among his most interesting “day work” jobs, he said was a stint from 1983-1988 as an assistant clerk at the U.S. Supreme Court.

Among other things, he gave private tours at the court to gay rights pioneer Frank Kameny and then-Washington Blade News Editor Lisa Keen.

LOU CHIBBARO, Jr.

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Rehoboth author’s new book tackles love, loss, and the allure of P-town

Will Freshwater’s series concludes with ‘The Dark Horse’

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Author Will Freshwater’s new book ‘The Dark Horse’ is out now.

For those of us who have experienced the allure of Provincetown, there’s no mystery about why author Will Freshwater set his series of three books there. 

It’s not just about the scenic, remote location, or the many fine restaurants and spirited bars and nightclubs and theme weekends. Not just the picturesque harbor and its famed magical light. It’s about a shared sense of community unique among LGBTQ destinations.

Freshwater, whose latest book “The Dark Horse” is out now, lives in Rehoboth Beach, Del., with his husband Stephen Cremen. And although Rehoboth became home after Freshwater retired from a career as a corporate attorney at Verizon in 2021, P-town always beckons. He first visited during the height of the AIDS crisis.

“I don’t think we’ll ever experience anything like that again,” he said. “The community welcomed anyone who showed up on the ferry looking for love and support; it was a transformative experience.”

Freshwater’s parents worried that he’d never find a “normal,” happy life as a gay man, but P-town put those fears to rest.

“I saw people who were plenty happy and living lives that were what they wanted to be,” he recalls. “I had never been able to hold my boyfriend’s hand and walk down the street; young people can’t conceptualize that. It felt like home for me … it felt welcoming, a warm place where I could be myself.” 

So, naturally, the protagonist in his series of books, John Wells, travels to P-town from D.C. to find himself. 

The first book in the Provincetown series, “Favorite Son,” is a familiar read to any gay man of a certain age who worked on the Hill in the 1990s — the sting of the closet, the need to be the best at work, and the chance meetings of romantic partners while riding the Metro. The story of John Wells, a senior Hill staffer, takes a turn after tragedy sends him reeling to P-town to heal. 

The second book in the series, a prequel titled “The Light Reflected,” takes readers back in time when the main characters — all gay men — are in their 20s. Freshwater says it wasn’t a conscious decision to write a prequel, but that it evolved out of wanting to show younger readers what life was like for gays at that time.

“We did stupid stuff and made stupid mistakes and ran away,” he said. “As a reader I often want to know what made a character a certain way. I was aware of my audience and in my generation I had the older mentors that shared our history and they died; I wanted readers to see what it’s like for these characters to be in their 20s not just their 30s. I wanted to give that perspective to younger readers because I don’t know how they’re going to experience that if not through books.” 

The new book, “The Dark Horse,” finds the characters Danny and Peter/John in domestic life in Boston where Danny runs the family business. Everyone is feeling restless and a bit miserable. 

“It’s about what happens after the fairy tale,” Freshwater said. 

The book also confronts the issue of unresolved feelings for past boyfriends, which takes the characters back to Provincetown. There’s a shocking plot twist at the end of the second book, an unexpected ending for the romance genre, that is resolved to satisfaction in the final book. 

“You won’t know until the final four pages of the book how it resolves,” he notes.

This is the shortest book in the series and Freshwater says it took just 11 months to complete, compared to six years for the first book and eight years for the second book.

“There’s a great sense of closure and I can always visit these characters but I’m excited to move on and do new things.” 

Indeed, Freshwater is working on several new projects, including a book set in Rehoboth that he’s co-writing with a friend, the gay romance author B.J. Irons. Freshwater is writing one character, a Rehoboth local who manages an inn on Baltimore Avenue and wants to “break out of his shell.” Irons is writing the other main character, a developer from Los Angeles who moves to Rehoboth to open a large resort across the street from the inn. The book explores their friendship and business rivalry. 

Rehoboth became home for Freshwater and Cremen thanks largely to the pandemic.

“I’d been coming here since age 3 because it was the closest beach to Pittsburgh,” he said. “When I was in law school I got introduced to a guy who had a house on the beach between Rehoboth and Dewey so I used to come down a lot in the mid-1990s and became hooked.” 

The couple bought a house in Rehoboth in 2018 and split their time between there and a home in New Jersey. 

“When the pandemic started, we went to Rehoboth for two weeks thinking it would all blow over quickly and then never went back.”

 The couple began questioning their stressful lifestyle of maintaining two homes and corporate jobs. So they sold the New Jersey house and moved full time to Rehoboth in 2021. 

In addition to the new book, Freshwater is writing a children’s book using the classic “Velvet Rage” as inspiration. It features a puppy with a pink spot on his cheek while all the others in the litter have a black spot. The dog wears a mask to conceal his difference, but when it comes out everyone accepts him.

“It thematically speaks to not hiding who you are,” he said.

Freshwater offers sound advice to aspiring writers struggling to find their voice and overcome writer’s block.

“It always starts with an idea or character or theme and then you develop a broad outline and then work your butt off,” he said. “Decide when you’re going to write and make a commitment that you’re going to do it, like an athlete who commits to practice every day from 3:30-5:30. Don’t wait for inspiration, just commit to writing every day, and then edit, edit, edit until it feels like what’s inside your head.”

 The new book is self published because Freshwater craved creative freedom. 

“I’m not sure what traditional publishers have to offer anymore,” he said, “like YouTube for musicians, if you’ve got what you think is a high quality manuscript, put it out there and it will generate a following.” 

Freshwater will read from “The Dark Horse” at an event on Saturday, March 23, 5-7 p.m. at Top of the Pines (56 Baltimore Ave., Rehoboth Beach). His books are available at Amazon and anywhere books are sold. 

(Amazon screenshot)
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‘Tiger’ burning bright: an interview with Mary Timony

Today’s female-driven music scene wouldn’t be the same without her

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Mary Timony is back with a new album. (Photo by Chris Grady)

It’s hard to imagine what the current female-driven music scene would be like without Mary Timony. From Sleater-Kinney to Haim, from Angel Olsen to Mitski, the influence of Mary Timony is in every note being played, every word being sung. On her new solo album, “Untame The Tiger” (Merge), with its sly nod to Joni Mitchell, Timony has brought her many years of musical experience to the fore, resulting in what is easily her most accessible release. Beginning with the incredible six-plus minute opener “No Thirds” and continuing through the first single, “Dominoes,” and gorgeous numbers including “The Guest,” “The Dream,” and “Not The Only One,” Timony is assured to keep listeners purring along. Timony made time for an interview shortly before the album was released.

BLADE: Mary, I’d like to begin by talking to you about your musical lives in D.C. and Boston. I went to college in Boston in the early 1980s and was constantly amazed by the bands of the era such as Mission of Burma, Human Sexual Response, and ‘Til Tuesday. I moved to D.C. in the mid-1980s to go to grad school, and at the time, the music scene there was dominated by go-go music, and a smaller indie music featuring BETTY and the late Tommy Keene, among others. What do you remember about the music in D.C. as someone who grew up there?

MARY TIMONY: That’s interesting. We kind of did a switcheroo. I’m from D.C. and I moved to Boston. (In D.C.) I learned, as a teenager, about rock shows and rock music from being involved in the punk scene, the post-hardcore scene of kids here. Those are the shows I went to in high school. Basically, the Dischord (Records) bands and stuff. I saw every single Fugazi show from when they started in ’87. Before that, whatever was happening in 1985, hardcore shows by Swiz and Soulside and Kingface and I loved Ignition. Other than that, I would go see bluegrass out in Virginia and I loved go-go. I would go to see (go-go bands) Rare Essence and Trouble Funk. I was very into that stuff; that was really exciting. I think I liked go-go the most out of all of it, actually [laughs]. I would go to DC Space and 9:30 (Club), mostly for local (acts). I don’t think I ever saw BETTY, but I was a teenager then.

BLADE: Was the active music scene in Boston in the early 1990s part of the appeal for you when it came to relocating to Boston to attend Boston University?

TIMONY: The reason why I went there was because I wanted to go to a music program that was in a big university, in case I didn’t wanna study music the whole time, which is exactly what happened. I studied classical guitar for a year and then I didn’t really like the program much, so I transferred to study English. I found out about the (Boston) music scene from friends. We went to The Middle East (nightclub) and TT’s (T.T. The Bear’s nightclub). Then after college, I ended up living right down the street from The Middle East and I was there constantly.

BLADE: Good old Central Square! As a performer playing in bands including Autoclave, Helium, and Ex Hex, and as a solo artist with her own band, it’s not unreasonable to say that Mary, you are someone who plays well with others. 

TIMONY: [Big laugh.]

BLADE: What makes you such a good team player?

TIMONY: I didn’t know I was [laughs]. I’ve gone back and forth between doing solo stuff and being in bands. Mostly, I’ve done projects where I’ve written a bunch of songs and I’m trying to…I haven’t done a ton of collaborative stuff really. Ex Hex was fun because it was more collaborative. Wild Flag, the same thing, totally 100% collaborative in every way. But Helium was really my thing, but I got some great people that totally influenced it. I’ve always been doing my own thing but tried to find really good people. Music really is about connection. It’s never as good if it’s only one person’s vision. Usually, if it’s good it’s good because of the connection between the musicians. Music is a social art form, I think.

BLADE: “Untame The Tiger” is the title of your new album. In 1999, Joni Mitchell titled her album “Taming The Tiger.” Are you, in any way, making a nod to Joni?

TIMONY: A little bit because I am a huge fan. I have been since I was 18. But, it sort of came to me because I have a song called that on the record and I’m sure that probably came from ripping off Joni Mitchell. Then I just thought that’s a cool name for a record. Then I thought, “Oh, shit!” [Laughs] It’s already been taken! Then I thought about it and then I forgot about it. Then I thought about it again and finally, I was like, “It’s OK. It’s a little bit different.” And I love her!

BLADE: I’m currently reading Ann Powers’ book “Traveling: On the Path of Joni Mitchell,” which comes out in June.

TIMONY: Oh, I’m definitely going to have to read.

BLADE: Yes, please add that to your reading list. “Untame The Tiger” is your first new solo studio album in 15 years. Are there things you write and sing about on your solo records that might be out of place on an album you would record with another one of your musical outfits?

TIMONY: Yes. That’s why this ended up being a solo record. I guess it was because of the tuning of my guitar. They were more or less finished songs. I wanted the songs to sound kind of acoustic. I also wanted to play with a bunch of musicians who I really love. All those things just made it seem like a solo record. If I’m writing for a band, like Ex Hex, which is basically the other band that I do right now, they’re not finished. I bring them in (to the band members) with that band in mind.

BLADE: I love the lush instrumental section on “Thirds” and the psychedelic sounds of “Looking For The Sun” and “The Guest.” Were there things you were listening to while writing the songs for “Untame The Tiger” that were inspiring to you?

TIMONY: I was listening to a lot of music, a ton of stuff. I don’t ever try to purposely emulate anything very often, but I can’t help it. I’d rather be influenced by stuff without really thinking about it too consciously. I always have loved listening to The Left Banke’s instrumentation and The Moody Blues’ string parts. Most of the string parts come from trying to emulate The Moody Blues [laughs] or The Left Banke. I’m obsessed with The Left Banke.

BLADE: “Walk Away Renée,” right?

TIMONY: Yes. This guy, Michael Brown, was such a genius. He wrote so much stuff as a teenager. His dad was a string arranger. Anyway, I love those string parts. I was listening to this prog-rock band The Strawbs and this early (Ronnie) Dio band Elf. (The Flying) Burrito Brothers and The Byrds, too. I love Fairport Convention and Steeleye Span. Richard Thompson and I was really obsessed with Gerry Rafferty’s early solo record called “Can I Have My Money Back?” I love that record. I was listening to it a ton when I was arranging the songs.

BLADE: Why was the song “Dominoes” selected as the first single from “Untame The Tiger?”

TIMONY: I don’t know. I let other people tell me [laughs]. I really hate sequencing records and I hate choosing singles. I’m just too close to it. I can’t tell what people are going to like or not. A lot of times, the ones that I like are not the ones that other people like. I asked (the people at) the label and they suggested that. I think it’s more poppy sounding. Dave Fridmann mixed that one and “Don’t Disappear” and he’s a genius mixer. and these mixers are always very pleasing and accessible sounding. I think that has something to do with it, too.

BLADE: Earlier, we talked about your long history of playing music with others, which reminded me of your guest spot singing “All Dressed Up In Dreams,” written by gay singer/songwriter Stephin Merritt for his band The 6ths’ “Wasps’ Nest” album. 

TIMONY: He’s such a genius!

BLADE: How did that come about?

TIMONY: When I moved to Boston, for a year I lived with Claudia (Gonson of Merritt’s band The Magnetic Fields), who is his drummer. I lived in a group house in Cambridge. I was friends with Claudia, and Stephin lived a few blocks away. She told me he was making this record with guest singers they wanted to go over and sing on it. I went over there one day and he taught me the song and I sang on it.  I think he’s one of the best songwriters of the last 50 years or whatever.

BLADE: I completely agree. As someone who has collaborated with Stephin, are you aware of an LGBTQ+ following for your own music?

TIMONY: I don’t know. I think maybe a little bit. I’d love that. I love everybody who can connect with it, because all I’m trying to do is connect with people.

Mary Timony (Photo by Chris Grady)
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Sherry Vine is turning 60 — and she’s not quitting anytime soon

Legendary drag queen coming to D.C. for new show, ‘Smoke and Mirrors’

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Sherry Vine performs in D.C. on March 9. (Photo courtesy of Sherry Vine)

There are many things Sherry Vine is proud of. Throughout her 33-year-long career, the drag queen has accomplished so much — she’s released music, launched her own variety show and toured across the United States and Europe. 

But what she loves the most about her career is making people laugh. 

This calling to be a comedy queen started before her formal drag career. In high school, she remembers taking part in the musicals, and Vine would find joy in making people laugh by wittily changing song lyrics. 

“Then it just evolved into doing that as the act,” Vine said in an interview with the Blade. 

From the beginning of her career, she’s made singing live parodies a central part of her performance as a drag queen. And for her 60th birthday, she knew she wanted to put on an extravaganza. 

Vine is coming to the Woolly Mammoth on March 9 while on tour for her new show “Smoke and Mirrors,” performed and written by her. It’ll include new parodies, from Bruce Springsteen to ABBA. The D.C.-based drag queen Tara Hoot will be a special guest at the show. 

There’s a lot that led up to this milestone year for Vine. It all started with developing her character more than 30 years ago. 

Developing Sherry Vine

Vine describes her persona as a down-on-her-luck showgirl from Las Vegas with a heart of gold. 

She was always obsessed with stars like Joey Heatherton and Stella Stevens. Not to suggest those stars are down-on-their-luck showgirls, Vine said, but she wanted to evoke a sex kitten mentality. Her character eventually morphed into what it is today from these inspirations. 

But at first, Vine said she thought she had to look funny to be funny. 

“I didn’t care about the makeup. I didn’t wear big breasts. I just thought I had to look like a clown,” Vine said. 

When she moved to New York City in 1992, she was surrounded by queens who balanced being funny and gorgeous simultaneously. That was eye-opening for her, she said. 

Now, she relishes surprising people, she said. She’s been told she looks “too pretty” to be taken for a comedy queen, but that’s OK with her. 

“I want to walk out on stage, and anyone who’s never seen me, maybe they’re like, ‘Oh, she looks good,’” Vine said. “And then I started singing about poop and penis and they’re like, ‘Oh my gosh, she’s so stupid.’”

When she was starting out as a drag queen, Vine reflected that she didn’t envision doing drag as a career. She remembers not wanting to commit to it. She wanted to be a movie star, she said. 

“I kind of fought it. I loved it,” Vine said. “But I was like, I’m not doing this as a career.’”

But once she let go of fighting it, her career exploded. She got connected with RuPaul and was on two television specials in the 1990s. That support was crucial, Vine said, and helped her believe in herself more. 

“I was like, ‘Oh, OK. If this person thinks that I have something, then maybe I do,’” Vine said. 

Drag has changed — a lot 

(Photo courtesy of Sherry Vine)

The drag scene has changed drastically. Vine credits a lot of this transformation to “RuPaul’s Drag Race.” 

“When we started doing drag 30 years ago, no one in their right mind would have been like, ‘I’m going to do drag so I can make a lot of money and be famous,’” Vine said. 

Before RuPaul’s iconic single “Supermodel (You Better Work),” one of the only examples of drag the average consumer saw was “Mrs. Doubtfire,” Vine said.  

“You had to have a passion for it,” Vine said. “You had to have a calling.”

When Vine started, drag was a fringe art form that had an audience of mostly gay men. 

Nowadays, it’s mainstream. Drag is enjoyed by a much wider audience, and is more of a way to become famous. When Vine was coming up in the industry, there were few ways to get on TV and in films as a drag queen, short of playing a character that was murdered on “Law & Order,” she said. 

But even though drag has evolved and grown in popularity, Vine’s advice to drag queens has stayed the same over the years. 

“Don’t try to do something because you think someone else is doing it successfully,” Vine said. “Find what you do, and then exploit and explore that.”

Looking back, looking ahead 

Out of her multi-decade run as a drag queen, Vine said she’s most proud of the longevity of her career. There are a few people who have been in it as long as she has — Lady Bunny and Miss Coco Peru, for example. Few others have made it as long as Vine, she said.  

She stresses that she can’t take credit for creating things, but she takes pride in being one of the first drag queens to go viral on YouTube in the 2000s. Her “Bad Romance” parody, released in 2009, racked up more than 6 million views over the years. 

In the next few years, she’s looking into doing more television and film projects. Her latest show, “The Sherry Vine Variety Show,” just wrapped filming its third season. Creating this show is fulfilling a childhood dream of hers, she said. It’s an homage to “The Carol Burnett Show,” which Vine grew up watching. 

Whether it’s performing on camera or onstage, Vine doesn’t see herself quitting anytime soon. 

“I love performing and drag as much now as I did 33 years ago,” Vine said. “So I don’t see ever stopping.”

To get details on how to buy tickets to “Smoke and Mirrors,” visit woollymammoth.net/productions/sherry-vine.

(Image courtesy of Sherry Vine)
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