a&e features

Charles Busch reflects on the paths he didn’t take in new book

‘Leading Lady’ a riveting memoir from legendary entertainer

Published

3 years ago

August 31, 2023

'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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a&e features

Summer in D.C. brings sports, Restaurant Week, festivals, and more

Published

3 days ago

July 23, 2026

Evan Caplan

Washington Spirit CEO Kim Stone hosts Pride Night OUT on Sunday, Aug. 23. (Photo courtesy of Washington Spirit)

Summer in D.C. just hits different. Congress is out, school is out, the sun is out, thighs are out. With the skies clearing from Canadian smoke, here are a few ways to stay entertained.

Dining

Summer restaurant week: The Restaurant Association of Metropolitan Washington (RAMW) is once again hosting Summer Restaurant Week, Aug. 18-24. This weeklong dining experience showcases the dynamic dining scene of the DMV, including 2026 RAMMY Award-winning favorites (the annual D.C. food awards show that took place June 29). Participating restaurants will offer three-course brunch and lunch selections for $25 or $35 per person, and three-course dinners for $40, $55 and $65 per person.

New Restaurants: A handful of new spots have opened, so the summer is a great time to check them out:

Oribu: A new Mediterranean-Japanese restaurant in the Grand Hyatt hotel, which just underwent a remodeling effort. The sleek restaurant brings upscale charm, with dishes like Wagyu beef tartare with potato pavé and caviar.
The Oak Room: A snazzy old-school American grill has just opened in Georgetown, alongside its sister upstairs supper club (Bernadette’s) restaurant, in the old El Centro space.
Uchi: This showy Japanese sushi-forward chain has landed in Dupont with a chef’s tasting menu of favorites like fatty tuna.
Kathmandu: Recalling the capital of Nepal, this warm, buzzy subterranean restaurant right in the heart of U Street brings spice, flair, and rare ingredients to its dishes (see: buffalo burgers) and drinks.

Sports

Washington Spirit Pride Night OUT: On Sunday, Aug. 23, head to Audi Field for a massive, high-energy game following the exciting month of World Cup. The designated Pride Night OUT game promises boisterous crowds plus pre- and post-game community engagements.
Washington Tennis Open – Now called the Mubadala DC Open, this annual tournament is only combined mens’ and womens’ 500-level tennis tournament in the world. The open is one of D.C.’s longest-standing sports traditions, and will take place at the Rock Creek Park Tennis Center July 25-Aug. 2. Naomi Osaka, Venus Williams, Ben Shelton, Frances Tiafoe, and others are expected to play.

Festivals

Afro Plus Fest: This huge, three-day Afro-Caribbean Hip-Hop Festival brings together headliners Davido, Alkaline, and Wizkid, plus Tems and Ayra Starr. The event moves from RFK to the Northwest Stadium Complex for three days, Sept. 4-6.
Capital Fringe Festival: Running from July 11-21, this massive celebration features dozens of live theater, comedy, dance, and boundary-pushing nighttime performances across multiple DC neighborhoods.
The National Book Festival returns, with headliners like Cynthia Erivo, and Martin Scorsese. The one-day festival, Saturday, Aug. 22, brings together bookworms and word nerds under the theme “America 250: It’s Your Story.” There are talks, workshops, musical sessions and more.
All Things Go: A three-day festival Sept. 25-27 at Merriweather Post Pavilion featuring Mitski, Hayley Williams, Brandi Carlile, MUNA, Zara Larsson, Ethel Cain, and many, many more artists. There are single-day and three-day tickets. Featuring and highlighting female artists, the festival has turned into a must-see for many LGBTQ audience members.
Fuchsia Fest: The inaugural Fuchsia Fest is a new multi-day celebration created to celebrate LGBTQ community and expression, bringing together a mix of community gatherings, entertainment, and nightlife. The event takes place Sept. 18-20 and is hosted by Capital Pride.

Art and Music

United We Dance: A high-energy rave with house, techno, bass, and festival music, on Aug. 1 at the 9:30 Club.
The Fray. On Aug. 14, this American rock band famous for How To Save A Life is at Merriweather Post Pavilion.
Kesha: Kesha’s high-energy The Freedom Tour comes to the D.C. area on Aug. 14 at Jiffy Lube Live.
ALOK: On Sept. 3 at Lincoln Theater, ALOK (they/them) performs. The poet, comedian, and actor is putting on a new comedy show.
2charm, the emerging Australian electronic club-pop duo popular with the queer community, which blends hyperpop and dance music, comes to the Atlantis.
Sapphic Dance Party: a vibrant, inclusive nightlife and social event designed specifically for queer women, lesbians, bisexuals, trans individuals, and nonbinary folks, at Atlantis on Aug. 21.
Jazz in the Garden: The most quintessential of D.C. activities returns Friday evenings through Aug. 14. This season’s theme, “American Sounds,” is a nod to the nation’s 250th anniversary. Tunes themes range from Appalachian and Americana to Creole jazz, Hill Country blues, contemporary jazz, and more. Tickets are available through a lottery system a week before each event.

a&e features

Tickets on sale for chef Patrick O’Connell’s book launch event

Sept. 18 kickoff to feature José Andrés, Tom Sietsema

Published

5 days ago

July 21, 2026

Kevin Naff

Acclaimed chef Patrick O’Connell is preparing to publish his new memoir, “Main, Middle & Gay” in September and he’s launching the book with an event on Sept. 18 at 6 p.m. at Lisner Auditorium featuring Chef José Andrés and former Washington Post food critic Tom Sietsema.

Tickets for the event go on sale Tuesday, July 21 at Ticketmaster; prices start at $55.

O’Connell, who’s gay, is the pioneering Michelin-starred chef and longtime proprietor of the Inn at Little Washington. He spoke with the Blade about the September event and the launch of his first memoir.

“I’ve known [Andrés and Sietsema] for more than 25 years and I have great respect for them,” O’Connell said. “I felt that it would allow us to add a different dimension rather than just have an interviewer. The chemistry will be fun and lively and unpredictable and exciting. I think we’re all different personalities and we’ll compliment each other.”

O’Connell has published cookbooks but this is his first memoir. The event will feature a short film that will highlight his work and the Inn.

“What I hope to do with the event is bring the book to life visually,” he said. “So we’re producing a short film that will be part of it. Most of the audience will not have read the book so it’ll give them a visual flavor of the book. It parallels the evolution of American cuisine over 50 years. It’s a rare perspective to be in the trenches for that long.”

The book’s title refers to the location of the garage on the corner of Main, Middle, and Gay streets in Washington, Va., where he launched his restaurant that became an international culinary destination.

The Blade will publish the rest of its wide-ranging interview with O’Connell in September in conjunction with the book’s release.

a&e features

The queer Asian comics building collective joy in D.C.

Spotlighting chaotic ways family, romance, identity take shape in their lives

Published

1 week ago

July 16, 2026

Christina Lee

Alex Kim performs at the Pride Comedy Special in Washington, D.C., on June 18, 2026. (Photo by Christina Lee/VOICES)

Kevin Chen’s family tombstone has room for four: him, his parents and his boyfriend. The arrangement might prove to be a little awkward.

“My boyfriend is 100% white, and my parents are 100% disappointed,” Chen confessed.

Jokes about family traditions and the untraditional ways they’re practiced earned a burst of laughs at the bar where Chen was opening for the Pride Comedy Special. The D.C. stand-up event, produced by Comedy Bonfyre last month, spotlighted queer Asian comics who shared the chaotic ways family, romance and identity take shape in their lives.

From candid oral sex takes to top surgery hypotheticals like “Where do the boobs go?”, the night highlighted the loud camaraderie of the queer Asian experience — one that sounds like a cacophony of snorts, cackles and belly laughs. While the comics say they are not quite a community, there’s more than enough shared material to bring them together.

“It was such a magical experience. I loved performing in a queer API lineup. It feels so validating,” Chen said after the show. “I’m wondering, ‘Is this how white men feel all the time?’”

Each performance evoked queer Asian joy through a medium that could use more of its presence.

According to Chen, who is based in D.C., it’s hard to say whether there is a true queer Asian comedy presence in his city. There are only a scattered “handful” of Asian comics, and people of color are underrepresented in queer comic circles, he said.

When Tarunika Anand, a nonbinary lesbian comic, first entered the mainstream D.C. comedy scene, they mostly encountered straight white men, describing the experience as “a culture shock.”

“I feel like sometimes a lot of queer spaces are really white, and then a lot of Asian spaces are really straight,” Anand said. “I don’t feel like I fit into either.”

But feeling marginalized didn’t stop these comics from honing their craft and creating spaces for others like them. Alex Kim, who headlined the special and is based in Brooklyn, runs the queer Asian comedy group Boba Gays, which began on WhatsApp and has since made its way to Lincoln Center.

Every Wednesday, Anand co-produces a free comedy show called Funny Side Up. The queer-led group focuses on inclusivity and showcasing new talent.

“It’s really beautiful to speak about your experience and your existence in a way that’s uplifting,” Anand said.

Family is a major throughline of their comedic repertoires.

Chen, for instance, shared that he identifies with jokes about having Asian immigrant parents and the expectations they pass down.

“You see me, you know this part about me, you know this experience intimately, and I can see the truth that you’re trying to wrap a joke around,” he said. “That hits even harder because that’s my truth too. I think that’s what makes good comedy.”

Anand had the audience at the special howling when they explained that their parents’ be-more-like-them comparisons didn’t end when they came out. Instead, the expectations took on a new form.

“Now, my parents want me to be the best gay,” Anand said. “They’re like, ‘Do you know Ellen DeGeneres?’”

Kim said he’s been trying to unlearn things from his Christian Korean mom. Yet he described a moment when he was getting ready for the club and realized he looked just like his mother getting ready for church.

“I’ve been finding it hard to escape her,” Kim said.

Mutual recognition also radiates through the different ways queer love can take shape. From singlehood to death-do-us-part commitments, the comics cover just about every corner.

Anand is holding out hope for settling down with “a nice, pretty, Indian girl.” They recently went through a breakup and said they felt they dodged a bullet.

“As a person of color, I just don’t think I should be with a Swiftie,” they said.

Chen, touching on what it’s like to be in a queer interracial relationship, said that meeting his white boyfriend’s baby nephew for the first time felt like he was forced to participate in a diversity, equity and inclusion training.

“The dad was like, ‘Please welcome Kevin. Be curious about his culture, his history, his foods,’” Chen joked.

Laughter is not the only reward for the comics.

To Anand, comedy is a space where they can say whatever they want. “It gives me a voice,” they said.

Nik Narain, a North Carolina-based trans and nonbinary South Asian comic who performed at the special, said meeting older trans comedians and taking the stage helped him feel reassured in his identity during his transition.

“Stand-up was a really cool way to process that onstage,” he said. “[It] became a way for me to repackage my thoughts.”

Queer Asians are still figuring out their place in the greater D.C. comedy scene. The group is small in numbers and many are still working toward a full-time comedy career. But Narain feels he’s already made it.

Narain is reluctant to pin it all on one moment. He feels that success is already peeking through in milestones — opening for celebrities, traveling to performances and self-producing shows.

“As long as I can keep doing this, I’m super happy,” he said.

This story was produced as part of the AAJA VOICES fellowship program, a student journalism project of the Asian American Journalists Association (AAJA).