The Inferno Dramaturgique: Lechedevirgen Trimegisto and Sorshamn Lara @ Buzzcut 2016

Inferno Varieté 
Lechedevirgen Trimegisto / Sorshamn Lara (México) 
International Performance Art Festival Buzzcut 2016 

Can you tell me a little bit about the work that you are bringing to Buzzcut?
We are bringing our performance project Inferno Varieté. This projects comes from the importance of creating  alternative and radical ways to fight against the system of oppression, violence and homophobia in Mexico and around the world, from the perspective of radical artivism and body art, the relation between violence and masculinity as a place of power relations, where the bodies and beings that don't fit in with the hegemonic image of “man” live a living hell, while those who enjoy the privileges of masculinity are conditioned by the bonds of virility, bravery, strength and the fear of being linked to the feminine, all in an environment of homophobia that subdues everyone equally. 

The concept of Inferno Varieté comes out as a critic compilation of popular Mexican culture, religious iconography, mass media stereotypes of Latino masculinity, gay ambient sceneries and aesthetics, as a hybrid space where the violence that follows traditional masculinity appears. 

This project is integrated by myself, as a performance artist, and the multimedia artist Sorshamn Lara, in which is combined video, sound, performance art and theatrical imaginary background. 

What is it about Buzzcut that attracted you to perform as part of it?
I think Buzzcut represents in a perfect way the type of performance and live art festival who cares about its artists, and also creates links between them, the audience and the organizers, making possible a strong sense of community. I also believe it's an international showcase for ones work as a live artist in the contemporary scene. 

Do you see your work within any tradition - and are there any artists (performance and beyond) whom you regard as a peer or an influence?
I see my work within the tradition of Mexican magic and spiritualism, among the theatrical background of the cabaret and variety shows. 

My influences are very different and eclectic, I take inspiration from Mexican horror cinema from 60's to 90's, writers and poets as Pedro Lemebel, Yosimar Reyes or Gloria Anzaldúa, icons of drag and trash culture as The Voluptuous Horror of Karen Black, Leigh Bowery or Pandemonia, artists like Ron Athey, Alejandro Jodorowsky, Mago Melchor or even holy figures like Sarita Colonia, Niño Compadrito or the lonely souls of the purgatory, but the figure that I find the most influential in my work is Fidencio Constantino "El Niño Fidencio" thaumaturgist and curandero from the north of Mexico who became famous between 1920-1930 by creating new and unusual methods of healing. 

He fully embodies what I understand as an "artist": someone who makes possible the miracle of transformation and healing, helping to create a better world. 

How 'typical' is this work compared to other pieces that you have made? Did the process follow a familiar or new pattern?
I've been working on this project about 2 years. Inferno Varieté is a complex artistic project that constantly keeps shifting and expanding, there are some actions that are held together inside the project among adding new strategies in the process of execution of the performance. Although it follows a familiar pattern, it always appears new things, making the work evolving. 

Buzzcut is concerned with the idea of 'community'. Does community have a special meaning for you, and what relationship do you feel your work has within wider communities?
I believe performance art has to create communities. Making strong bonds and connections, opens the radical possibility for change in a micro/macro collective, local/global groups, it depends on the trade-offs between the artist and the audience where the value of live art and performance art resides. 

It's something that goes deeper than it seems, it is rooted in the symbolic space of the ritual interchange for the construction of cultural, social and political structures and transactions, where the body becomes the gravity center. I believe in my work as an ephemeral space where community fears and hopes are embodied and exposed. 

What are you hoping that the audience will experience?
For me, a Mexican artist who has built most of his work from Latin American culture, it's a challenge capable of transporting my performance art work to other latitudes with other characteristics and qualities than my country, like, in this case, Scotland. I'm really hoping to carry out a connection between my work and the audience, and to deliver with more than words a powerful message.  

Are there any strategies which you used to direct the audience experience towards this?
I believe in the power of the body as a political and poetic space, where emotions and actions take place to bring metaphors and voices alive. 

My strategies are pondered by exposing the vulnerability of the body and the human conditions that are neglected by the margins and extreme situations, to generate a bond of empathy between the public and the issues that my work describes. I trust in the aptness of the audience and people to understand the pain and suffering of the others and to take a moment for social reflection. 

What is it about performance that enticed you - and kept you making it?
Performance Art is a space I found where I can create without any restrains, where I feel totally free to pull out new and strange ideas without the incumbency of any academic issue or discipline exigency. I truly believe that artists need to have all the possible liberty in our own creative process. 

Performance Art erases the lines between life and art, it’s something that gives me life and keeps me searching for new ways to transform my world. 

Are there any questions you feel that I ought to ask to understand how dramaturgy works for you?
I think I have answered most of the important and interesting questions, I’d just like to add what I consider art is very similar to what others consider "magic", been said that, I believe my work is located somewhere between dramaturgy and the spiritual practices, with a sharp teeth approaching in gender/sexuality themes.

Thank you so much for this interview. Lechedevirgen.

Man Dance

I've always been a little suspicious of choreographic attempts to define masculinity. They have become very popular in the last few years - the natural reaction, perhaps, of the dancer's ambiguity about their masculinity against more stereotypical male roles, like the sportsman. Personally, I got over any ideas that dancers weren't tough guys the first time I saw the Bolshoi Ballet, and read about Baryshinkov's sexual conquests.

There's inevitably plenty of fighting and peacocking, and the only reason that both The Chinaski Sessions and 12 Dancers don't annoy me beyond measure is that they both have good excuses for taking the male as subject. Between them, the two pieces employed most of the male dancers associated with Scotland and although there are those predictable play-fights (yes, you can lift each other. Well done), they manage to go a little deeper.

The Chinaski Sessions is choreographed by a woman, Kylie Walters, which at least means that this is an outsider's view of masculinity. It uses the avatar of Charles Bukowski to see whether all that pizza-eating, jockeying for position and showing off can be creative. The interaction between the five dancers, including Jack Webb, exhibiting a genuine charisma away from his solo pieces and pretend drunk lout Michael Sherin, and the band I Love Sarah is frequently boorish and thuggish but the climax, which pictures a lads' night out in hideous detail, reveals Walter's talent for exposing character through deft, precise movements.

12 Dancers is the result of Andy Howitt's campaign to bring together a gang of male dancers who represent the various stages of the dancer's career. He is not afraid to pull the older guys on stage - Ian Spink has been better known as a choreographer for the past thirty years, and Peter Royston, having once been with Scottish Ballet, has moved into dance development in Perth. The costumes - suits, these boys are a jury and in their court-room best - add to the cast's gravitas. It's a shock when Allan Irvine busts a few b-boy moves.

Despite the inevitable ruckus, which does look a bit like a primary school lunch-break, 12 Dancers does a good job of using the various scenes to illustrate conflict through dance without it turning into hand-bags at dawn. Telling the classic story about that one time the jury had its mind changed by one man, the narrative is simple and direct. The men argue, through dance, and eventually agree that the defendant is not guilty.

Howitt's ambitious choreography pulls together the various techniques of his 12 men. Daniel Aing brings Capoeira from Marseilles, Malcolm Shields seems to come from a more physical theatre place. Unsurprisingly, Matthew Hawkins is a constant presence, his balletic precision married to an arch enthusiasm. As the piece develops, the different techniques are thrust cheek by jowl and are merged into something approaching an integrated style. If the younger dancers tend to be more emphatic and showy, the seriousness of the older men lends the performance weight.

Masculinity is only half of the story - where Walters adds the idea of creativity, Howitt slams in justice. The narrative is simple enough not to get lost- despite it not always being clear who is arguing for what - and the spectacle of 12 skilled dancers piling around the stark set is frequently comic or impressive. Perhaps more than the content, or even the attempt to juxtapose different dance styles, 12 Dancers is a spectacle, and a one stop guide to Scotland's male dance community.

Except for Tony Mills, who is in Russia. And the cast of The Chinaski Sessions. And Tommy Small and Tom Pritchard, who are doing their show on Friday. There's quite a few male dancers in Scotland.

That might explain why masculinity tends to be a topic, but I haven't seen female choreographers feed a similar need to deconstruct the feminine. True, Curious Seed did have an entry in the Fringe called The Woman Who Wants To Be Funny but that was as much about comedy as it was about gender.

I did grow up around dancers, and the thing I remember most is not how they were compromised in their masculinity, but that they had loads of women flocking to them. I think I got picked on a bit at school, but that wasn't because I got caught wearing my ballet tights. I was an irritating egg-head who liked Latin.