For the Daughters of Athena

Our position remains the same: any policy or

legislative framework should aim to challenge and reduce sexual exploitation and the objectification of women.

When the Scottish Government open a consultation on 'the regulation of sexual entertainment venues' in 2013, the Woman's Support Project issued an articulate and reasoned briefing paper. It clarified the position of the WSP on lap-dancing, and explained its opinions on the ten questions put up by the government, encouraging people to contribute. This document provides a strong analysis of the current situation, from a particular perspective, and makes a case for the necessity of legislation despite, notwithstanding the later question in the Scottish Parliament by MSP Lara Hilton, the possibility of banning lap-dance venues having been made almost impossible following previous attempts.

Above all, the WSP insists that activities such as stripping, lap dancing, pole dancing, and table dancing or “sexual entertainment” are forms of commercial sexual exploitation and so we are opposed to their existence. These activities are incompatible with work on gender equality and on violence against women.This position is followed by a belief that that the current situation is not sustainable and leaves women very much at risk.

This is followed by reference to a series of reports describing the impact of lap-dancing on women working in the industry. The analyses of Giga, Hoel and Cooper and independent testimonies point to the industry as dangerous and exploitative. 

It is this that the argument against lap-dancing rests upon, and any serious legislation would be concerned with protecting vulnerable women. However, the ten questions that follow  - those asked by the consultation - are frequently concerned with matters of licensing, definition and community decision making. There are no questions that home in on matters of staff exploitation. 

As part of a broader conversation, the WSP clearly have an important voice (their intention to increase understanding of the myths and realities surrounding commercial sexual exploitation reflects a sensitivity to the public perception of sex work and a desire to expose the truth): their a priori assumptions about sex work are based in a rigorous sociological feminism. And that they begin their briefing with direct references to exploitation emphasises that they are privileging a compassionate rather than moralistic approach to the topic.

Where I disagree with the WSP is in accepting this:

local authorities, through consultation and

input from community members and service providers, should have the powers to not only set the amount of venues to be licensed but also to determine the types of activities that can take place if a venue is granted a license. This need to be supported through a clear regime of checks and monitoring by the appropriate staff who have been trained in Violence Against Women and Gender Equality. 

These kind of powers are not aimed at reducing exploitation, but handing power to local authorities to licence venues.  

For the Daughters of Ishtar

Here's a difficult position to defend: the celebration that 'theatre with nudity is exempt from sex license law' is a depressing example of how people within the arts regard themselves as somehow above the law, but also how they flagrantly fail to apply their hope for 'freedom of expression' to anyone outside their sacred circle.

I've been following the 'air weapons and licensing bill' with increasing alarm for the past six months. My main complaint has been that a bill designed to control scrap metal and guns does not do justice to the complexity of licensing issues around 'venues designed for sexual entertainment'. It reads like a tacked-on clause, making this bill a general moral grand-standing rather than a serious attempt to consider the role and consequences of lap-dancing on society. 

This isn't a defence of lap-dancing clubs, nor is it a condemnation of a political body simultaneously expanding its power to define entertainment without taking moral responsibility (I'll get to that elsewhere). 

This is a short expression of irritation at the way that theatre has begged for special exemptions from a law, rather than considering the law's implications.

Jon Morgan, director of the Federation of Scottish Theatre, told the committee last month that this could affect performances at the Edinburgh Festival which contain nudity or explore issues such as pornography.

And The Scotsman's article goes on to describe how Mr Matheson recognised this danger and would include provisions to protect performances.

Interestingly, one of the examples Morgan gave was Sister, a well-received show which, among other issues, attempted to justify sex-work and present sex-workers (including lap-dancers) in a more positive light. It was described as a legitimate work of art (which it is) that might be censored by the legislation. 

However, Morgan's example reveals the problem. During the show, the sisters are naked and perform two lap dances on audience members, presumably of the same sort seen in 'sexual entertainment venues'. The work, which was designed to open up the conversation about how lap-dancers are regarded has become a totem for the defence of 'high-art' and an argument for a division between what happens in the club and the theatre. 

In other words, art that intended to defend lap-dancers has become a weapon to reduce them to a lower level in a moral hierarchy.

Over the past few years, there have been a rash of plays in the Edinburgh Fringe which take lap-dancing as their subject - some have been thoughtful reflections on the industry, others have had a voyeuristic delight in appropriating a community that justifies flashing some tits on stage. These, presumably, will not be bothered by the new bill: their framing as performance presumably gives them credibility and value. Equally, Nic Green's Fatherland, which has her doing a highland strip, will get a pass. 

Well, good for freedom of expression, but if that freedom comes with a price of 'aesthetic or moral value', it isn't freedom. As seems to be the refrain of activists for freedom of speech, it's no good allowing freedom just for things that you like, even though that pretty much seems to be as far as theatre community's pleasure at their exemption reaches. 

New licensing regime to ensure robust controls on air weapons.

New legislation to tighten access to air weapons in Scotland and other measures to improve public safety has been announced today.

The Air Weapons and Licensing (Scotland) Bill, brought forward by Justice Secretary Kenny MacAskill and published today in Parliament, sets out new proposals for a range of licensing issues including air weapons.

Alongside air weapons, the Licensing Bill also includes provisions covering:


Scrap metal dealers - clamping down on metal thef through a tighter licensing regime for scrap metal dealers, including new rules that will prevent payments in cash
Alcohol creation of new offences of giving, or making available, alcohol to a child or young person for consumption in a public place
Sexual entertainment venues – a new licensing regime for lap dancing venues that will allow greater local control over the number and operation of these venues
Civic – introduction of a new role of Civic Licensing Standards Officer to help enforce civic licensing regimes.

The Dramaturgy of Sex Work

There is quite a bit of theatre about 'sex work' in the Fringe this year. Actually. this is a consistent trend - I've been pondering a feature about 'sex work on stage' since 2010, when I wrote a piece about lap dancing. Since many of the subsequent performances on the subject cover similar ground to my review (the gender and economic politics of stripping for the male gaze), I think I deserve a cut of any profits.

I admit an interest: I recently abandoned an essay on 'The Dramaturgy of the Lap Dance,' when I realised that the ethics proposal would be a nightmare and that it would cost me a couple of grand to see the performers (no press pass at the Rhino Club, gentlemen).

In line with my general attitude - that theatre ought to be politically engaged, right up until the point where I have to make difficult moral choices - shows about 'sex work' challenge me. Notice that I put sex work in inverted commas: not because I think it is a vague euphemism for prostitution, but because it covers such a wide range of activities, and I don't think that the continuity between them (sex) is sufficient to make them all part of the same genre.

Let's have a look at what we have this year, off hand.

This one is about those lines that I phone up when I am drunk and am hoping for a bit of human connection, only to end up feeling guilty and frustrated, because it costs too much on my mobile and... I am sorry. I meant to say 'about those lines that one phones up when one is drunk.'

I don't think phone sex and lap dancing are that similar: there are entirely different methodologies behind them, and while both are about getting the green, they provide different aesthetic products (and the commodity, despite being sexual, is different...)


Then there is Sister, which I reviewed here. It does deserve the sex work tag, because it covers quite a few topics (but, contrary to the various reviews, it does not begin with a 'full-on' lap dance. There is a lap-dance, but calling it full-on is exaggerating).

The range of topics within sex work make it very difficult to make the sort of vapid generalisations I like,so I am dividing and subdividing as I go... and thinking about where the lines are drawn, and at what point sex work itself becomes performance.

To be continued.

Lapdancing @ The Western Bar

Borgesian conundrum

FEATURE BY PIERRE MENARD AND GARETH K VILE.

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED IN THE SKINNY 18 AUGUST 2010

Plugging into the fashion for both site-responsive and intimate theatre, Lapdancing is yet another experience that juggles multiple platforms in an attempt to question the nature of theatre and the audience's complicity. It throws about questions about the fundamental nature of gender relations and commodification of the body, even as it maintains an almost Buddhist suspension of judgement.

The Western Bar itself is evocative of a decaying past, a proletarian decadence far from the bohemian stereotypes of Nietzsche and Wilde. Its rich history has seeped into the wooden panels, conjuring a vision of hidden pleasures lost and forgotten moralities. 

Within this, the rotating cast eschew narrative for monologues that threaten to become dialogues, a steady stream of questions that literally ask the audience what they want. Lacking narrative, Lapdancing has a circular structure, returning to the themes of the male gaze and erotic connection.

Where liberal theatre identifies consumerism as a negative force within sexual relations, Lapdancing bravely refuses to make judgements. In a critique of art that relies on state funding, the performance continues until the money runs out, at which point, the nature of audience-performer relationship is made explicit. The short one-to-ones happening in the small booths reflect The Arches' famous Spend a Penny season, where expectation is denied by giving the punter exactly what they expected.

Lapdancing has a provocative approach to the left's assumption that consumerism is destructive: it also stresses that, despite feminism and post-modernism, it is impossible to explain away desire. It asks whether male-female heteronormative relations have ever changed, explores the boundaries of where theatre is located, and collides into theories about the fourth wall with a direct physicality. 

Ultimately, however, it challenges ideas of objectivity and morality, insisting, in the manner of St Paul, that perception defines an experience: to the pure of heart, all things seem pure.