Dance Dance Revolution
Six SLC alumnae climb onto the burlesque stage, kick down old assumptions, and create a performance group that’s equal parts sexy and smart.
It’s almost midnight on a Thursday, but the club is packed. The opening strains of a familiar song swell through the dark, and some of the audience members titter as they recognize Neil Diamond’s “America.” Miss Aurora-BoobRealis climbs onto the stage, a hopeful immigrant in a magenta wig, suitcases in hand, American flag wrapped around her shoulders like a cape. She mugs in a slow-motion run, reveling in the anthemic song, then steps her high heels wide and sweeps her baggage-laden arms overhead triumphantly. On the boats and on the planes—they’re coming to America!
Aurora whips off the flag, unfurls it proudly, then mimes knocking on a door, showing off the flag with an eager smile. Then, disbelief. She knocks again. Frustration. Again. She looks at the flag like, You’re letting me down—why can’t I get in? Another knock, another rejection, and she throws the flag down, kicks it, and tears off her dress. The music cuts to Prince’s “America,” dark and driving. God shed his grace on theeee—something about a mushroom cloud—and Aurora dances around the stage rebelliously, flinging off her clothing until she’s wearing nothing but patriotic undies and red, glitter pasties. Finally she yanks off the candy-colored wig to reveal a curly Mohawk. She stalks off the stage. The music ends. The crowd claps and whoops and the feeling in the air is electric.
Is this performance art? Striptease? Political theatre? Close, but not quite. This is Brown Girls Burlesque.