Dear Constant Reader,
We have lost another Legend. April March, The First Lady of Burlesque, has died.
I was once very close to April and worked with her to create a tribute act that debuted at The Great Burlesque Expo of 2011.
Nil nisi bonum.
In Memoriam: April March
Review: Tempest Storm
Dear Constant Reader,
I first saw this documentary in 2018 at a local theatre, but it took me this long to write up my thoughts. I know Tempest never would have seen this little blog, but I didn’t feel comfortable writing this while she was alive. The audience at the screening was sparse and I though that was sad. Harvey Robbins, Tempest’s manger, who I can’t stand (let’s just leave it at that) introduced the film and did a Q &A at the end, all of which I remember thinking we could have done without.
Tempest Storm directed by Nimisha Mukerji, 2016.
I won’t rehash Tempest’s amazing career here. Read The Lady is a Vamp if you want to know more. The film covers some of her glory days and some of her personal life, with interviews with Tempest, her family members, manager, and people in the neo-burlesque scene. There’s archival images and footage of Tempest, but also some artsy, mood-setting scenes, like actresses playing younger Tempest and little girl Tempest that I didn’t think was so necessary.
Throughout Tempest is glamorous. They focus on a number of her triumphs: headlining at a burlesque festival, a photoshoot, signing her clothing line deal with Tatyana, greeting her adoring fans at conventions, performing at BHoF.
The documentary follows Tempest as she attempts to reconnect with her family. She calls her daughter and leaves messages several times without response. Her father abandoned Tempest when she was a baby and she never knew him or why he left. After a genealogist traces him, Tempest goes back to Georgia to visit his grave. It feels a bit like a farewell tour as she sees her siblings and their families. She continues by going to Los Angeles to see her ex-husband Herb Jeffries (who died not long after their reunion). Marrying Herb, a Black singing cowboy, caused damage to her career and to her relationship with her family. Ultimately she chose her career over the marriage and their daughter.
Then she flew to met with her estranged daughter. Who refused to see her. The film maker clearly had this plan for a redemption arc, with a mother-daughter reunion, which was foiled by people not acting like characters in a script.
She never seems to realize that she repeated history by leaving her daughter and husband, like her father abandoned her. When her daughter challenges Tempest over the phone for not being there for her and her granddaughter, Tempest tries to explain how busy she’s been with festivals and appearances, but never apologizes for her absence in their lives. It’s sad and I feel like her sorrow is exploited.
The film ends (not a spoiler) with footage of Tempest in a diaphanous white gown at dusk, dancing in a field of Georgia cotton, the kind she had to pick as a little girl. She worked so hard to get away and yet much of this film is about her return.
The documentary is a chance to hear her story from her and that is absolutely worth it. You can watch the entire film on YouTube.
These writings and other creative projects are supported by my 19 Patrons. Thank you so much! To become a Patron, go to my Patreon page. Or you can just tip me if you liked this.
From ABC to BHoF: Honoring Kitten Natividad
Dear Constant Reader,
In April the American Burlesque Collection was contacted by the Burlesque Hall of Fame about a loan for their new exhibit Let’s Get Loud! The Heritage of Latin Burlesque. They needed something to represent Kitten Natividad and ABC has one of her costumes, among other items which were featured in the 2021 exhibit, ¡Viva Estriptís!. The costume was made by Sue Nice for Kitten’s Australian tour. Kitten sold the costume to Lili VonSchtupp, who wore it for her Jack of Hearts photo in The Burlesque Deck. From Lili, it came to ABC.
We were happy to honor Kitten in this way. The catch was that the exhibit was opening within days of the request. They would need the costume right away.
Now, if you or I want to lend something we own to someone we know, it’s easy. We just do it. Maybe there’s a little conversation about who’s going to pick it up or when the thing needs to be returned, but there aren’t a lot of details and the ones that do pop up can usually be settled with a quick text. Things are very different when the loan is from one museum to another.
Every museum has their own version of a “standard” agreement. And, as you can guess, none of them are the same! The loan agreements cover every detail: insurance, shipping, mounting and display, security, how the loaning institution is to be acknowledged…down to minutiae like the lighting and humidity. It took a long time of back and forth until there was an agreement both museums found acceptable. It took weeks and weeks before it was settled and in the meantime the exhibit had opened to the public.
After the agreement was signed, Scratch prepared a Condition Report, which recorded the condition of each item at the time it left A.B.C.’s custody. The condition report includes photos and notes on any pre-existing damage like missing rhinestones, loose threads, or stains.
Then we had to get it there in the same shape it left our care. We knew we wanted to individually package each of the six elements of the costume before putting them all in the shipping box. I created some envelopes out of unbleached muslin. It’s lightweight, breathable, and doesn’t have any dyes or chemical treatment which might affect the costume. Some of the costume pieces could be folded mostly flat without risk of damage, but if you know Kitten, you can figure out which items had to be shipped with padding inside them to keep them from being crushed. Then each element was wrapped in acid-free tissue and slipped into its own custom envelope.
Scratch packed it all in a box, and then packed that box securely in another box before shipping the costume off. We breathed a little easier when word came that it had been received safe and sound. Many museums send their artifacts by courier, but we’re a touch small for that.
The costume was mounted in time for The Burlesque Hall of Fame Weekender in early June.
and here it is!
(All exhibit photos by Scratch)
Because they had limited exhibit space, BHoF decided only to display the robe and Scratch hand-carried the other pieces back with him.
Let’s Get Loud! The Heritage of Latin Burlesque runs until October. If you get the chance to see it, I want to hear all about it!
(with input from Scratch)
These writings and other creative projects are supported by my 20 Patrons. Thank you so much! To become a Patron, go to my Patreon page. Or you can just tip me if you liked this.
In Memoriam: Toni Elling
Dear Constant Reader,
I hate writing these. This one more than most. And it’s taken me so long to figure out what to say.
Toni Elling was the first Legend I met. It was at Miss Exotic World 2006, the first time the event was held in Las Vegas (and the only time I’ve been.) I was sitting by the registration desk, chatting, and this graceful woman came over and said “You look like what we would call an ‘exotic’.” then complimented my outfit and apologized for interrupting. I believe I was speechless beyond “thank you”.
To paraphrase Scratch, when she walked into a room, you looked; when she spoke, you listened (if you were smart). I learned many nuggets of wisdom from her that I still use and gift to my students. At The Expo I was escorting her back to her room after her class on panels. I was planning to head to Willy Barrett’s Delsarte class — I never miss one if I can help it — after I dropped her off. But she she invited me in and started talking. I stayed, of course, delighted for the honor of a private conversation.
I had the fortune and pleasure to see her several times and each time, no matter the circumstances, she always remembered where we had last seen each other and had something kind to say. The last time we spoke, a big group Zoom call for her 92nd birthday, I was sure she wouldn’t remember who I was, but she thanked me for my latest letter, apologized for not writing back, and said she hoped to come to Boston again. Later, it was so painful to learn that her sharp mind was failing her.
She was gracious and graceful and the epitome of class. Recently Scratch shared this story with me. I think it demonstrates well those virtues of hers. When she was the Guest of Honor at The Expo, on Sunday morning, Scratch took her out for a quiet breakfast at a diner not far from our house. Albert had been in our life for just about a year and I think this was the longest we’d been away from him. Scratch was talking about him and Miss Toni must have picked up on the love and worry because she said “I think I’d like to meet this cat of yours.” Scratch brought her to The Manor where I’m sure she and Albert charmed one another.
My heart goes out to all those who are mourning their Mama Toni, especially GiGi Holiday and Lottie Ellington who took such good care of her.
There’s a lovely article about Miss Toni and her legacy in the Detroit Metro Times.
Farewell, Satin Doll.
In Memoriam: Kitten Natividad
Dear Constant Reader,
I hate writing these missives. The death of every Legend is a tragedy. We lose so much of our history with them. But this one cuts very deep.
Photo by John Bilotti at The Great Burlesque Expo.
I saw her for the first time at Miss Exotic World in Las Vegas in 2006. In a voice I never heard before from him, tinged with awe and delight, Scratch said, almost reverently, “That’s Kitten Natividad!” I replied “Who?”
I learned who she was — Russ Meyer’s muse, burlesque Legend, Miss Nude Universe, porn star. And eventually our friend.
I’m usually more than a little intimidated by Legends, but she was so open and friendly that all my apprehensions just melted away. We got along very well, which surprised me sometimes. She was so exuberant and unapologetic, where I am reserved and demure. One year for my birthday she gave me fishnet bodystockings, saying how good I’d look. It took me a little while to get used to the idea, but she was right.
Photo by Altar Boy Photography
Whenever Scratch and I went to Los Angeles we would visit her and take her out (and she would take my leftovers home). The last trip was the best. She insisted we stay in her guest suite and Scratch made her breakfast every morning. We would sit in her courtyard and watch her crazy kittens race around. The night we left, we took her to dinner at Musso & Frank, our favorite L.A. restaurant and hers too. I think this is the only picture I have of us together.
Photo by a waiter at Musso and Frank
Then the pandemic came. We would call her from time to time and check in. We always talked about visiting as soon as we could. She would say “And you’ll stay with meeee!” We would assure her we would and Scratch would cook for her. And then we would tell her we loved her. That’s not something I say casually.
She told such wonderful stories about her time in burlesque, in porn, with Russ, but she was just as interested and enthusiastic about we were doing. When Scratch opened the American Burlesque Collection, she was so supportive. One of the exhibits was dedicated to Latina burlesque performers and a big part was devoted to her. I know Scratch did a little video tour for her, but I wish she could have seen it in person.
The last time we were in touch, she told us the cancer had come back. I said I would drop everything and come see her. She said “I’m not going anywhere” so we talked about going out for Scratch’s birthday in November or mine in February.
I wish I had known how sick she really was. Even if she couldn’t have had visitors, I wish we’d called her one more time.
I’m devastated. I can’t believe I’ll never see her again, never hear her wonderful laugh or feel her infectious delight for everything. I hope she knew how much I love her.
She touched and inspired so many of us. Lili VonSchtupp wrote a lovely tribute on her Patreon. Last year Angie Pontani interviewed Kitten for her podcast, The Bump ‘n Grind.
The thing I loved most about Kitten was the unbridled joy she took in life. She regretted nothing that she had done. I cannot think of a better tribute to her than to live life on those terms.
In Memoriam: Tempest Storm
Dear Constant Reader,
Last night I got the sad news that Tempest Storm had died at 93*. In some way I thought she’d outlive us all.
She was probably the most famous of our Living Legends and I don’t need to rehash her life and career here (you can read her memoir or see Teaserama or the 2016 documentary Tempest Storm).
I first saw Tempest at Miss Exotic World in 2006. She strutted on stage in a purple evening gown and boa to the beat of an actual drummer. She was every inch a queen and owned that room. She had the audience in the palm of her hand her entire act (I think it was about 3 songs; definitely more time than anyone else got). This was a true connection between or past and our present, right there on stage in front of me. Even in her late 70s, she was gorgeous and graceful.
A couple of years later I was overwhelmed to learn we** would be performing in Tempest Storm’s Las Vegas Burlesque Revue for its New England dates. Tempest wasn’t performing, since she had recently broken her hip, but she introduced the show with her charming accent and gave the audience a good look at her famous figure and trademark flaming hair. She was so kind and gracious, posing for pictures and signing autographs afterwards. After the show at the Merrill Auditorium in Portland, Maine (easily the biggest venue I’ve ever played), the cast went out for a late-night seafood feast. At a long table packed with performers, there were oysters and wine and lots of loud conversation and laughter. I think we were celebrating Angie Pontani’s birthday. Tempest sat quietly at the end of the table, with a soft smile. I wish I had known what to say to draw her out, convince her to tell some stories of her amazing life, but I was too awestruck.
I’m grateful for those small brushes with greatness. Tempest was not just a Legend; she was Legendary. Her death is the end of an era. Our world is a little duller without her sparkle.
These writings and other creative projects are supported by my 14 Patrons. Thank you so much! To become a Patron, go to my Patreon page. Or you can just tip me if you liked this.
*or 23 — she was born on February 29.
**Betty and I were performing; Scratch ended up, as usual, supplying vital tech expertise and backstage support, including providing a chaise for Kitten DeVille to hump.
Review: Marinka: From Havana To Burlesque
Dear Constant Reader,
Like the rest of the burlesque world, I was saddened to hear of the death of Marinka, Queen of the Amazons and grateful that she shared the story of her life.
Marinka: From Havana to Burlesque by Marinka Melanie Hunter and Lily Star, 2020.
In this memoir, Marinka is honest about her life, particularly her big secret, which she kept for so long. In her introduction she says “If I had done this when I was 30, it would have been a sensation instead of my story.” I’m certainly glad times and attitudes have changed enough that she felt she could finally be completely honest and tell her whole story without it being lost behind the sensational nature.
Growing up in Havana, as the thirteenth child of wealthy Spanish immigrants, Marinka was different from other children. A fortune teller declared the five-year-old was born under a “different star”. Marinka’s parents were worried by their youngest’s effeminate behavior. In 1959, when Castro took power in Cuba, Marinka’s parents thought New York City, where Marinka’s godparents lived, would be a safer place for their flamboyant teenager.
Once in New York, Marinka could finally live as she truly was, as a woman. She became acquainted with the underground gay and drag scene. After being declared “the most beautiful drag queen in New York City” at a ball, she was hired as a female impersonator at The Powderpuff Revue and also learned to belly dance. At this time she used the stage name “Sully”.
Very soon she became an exotic dancer. Her agent had dubbed her “Tina Darling”, but she wasn’t comfortable with it. She heard the name “Marinka” and knew that was who she was. She began working in “mixing clubs” (including the Teddy Bare Lounge and Two O’Clock in Boston), where the dancers would sit and drink with the patrons between acts.
One of her tours took her to Ohio and the Toledo burlesque theatre run by legendary performer and impresario Rose La Rose. Rose took one look at the striking beauty and asked why she wasn’t a feature. Marinka didn’t think she had the act or the experience to become a feature, but Rose La Rose thought otherwise. First, Marinka had to return to New York for something very important.
In December 1969, Marinka entered a hospital for the moment she had been dreaming of — gender affirmation surgery, or as she called it then, a sex change operation. A warning here: she describes her surgery and recovery from it in a fair bit of detail. After jumping through a few legal hoops, she was able to update all her official paperwork to reflect who she really was and chose the name Maria Arias. I’m unclear when she started using the name Melanie Hunter.
Marinka’s burlesque career was taking off. She returned to Toledo and Rose La Rose helped her create a feature act and gave her the move that became her signature — “fucking the curtains”. I loved this chapter because it detailed the different sections of a feature’s act.
From there she became a much sought after headliner. She was a regular at the resorts in the Catskills for many years as well as performing overseas. Bob Fosse cast her in All That Jazz — you can see her in the burlesque club flashback and in the finale — and that led to an appearance in Playboy. More movie work followed, but only as an extra. Unfortunately, Hollywood was uncomfortable with a trans actress and she never could land a larger role. But burlesque loved her and she continued performing.
Marinka had many loves and marriages and her share of heartbreak. Like so many burlesque Legends, she fell in love with some charming men who spent her hard-earned money and resented her work in burlesque. She’s not bitter about them, just sad at how things turned out. She had happier relationships too, including at least one with a celebrity.
The pacing of the book is a little uneven. She’ll spend one chapter on a particular incident and then cover a longer span of time in the next. The last chapter of the book compresses a couple of decades into a few pages, as she moved from Switzerland to Florida to Las Vegas and began to have health issues.
There are many sections of photos, from early headshots (when she was known as Sully) to her appearances at The Burlesque Hall of Fame. There are also candid shots with her friends and family, plus a few press clippings.
As always, I recommend the memoirs of Legends, because it is so important to know our past. This book is useful as a look back to burlesque history, but it also happens to be enjoyable and entertaining. The tone is very conversational and her story moves along smoothly. Most importantly, it’s the very personal story of a woman who always knew who she was.
These writings and other creative projects are supported by my 14 Patrons. Thank you so much! To become a Patron, go to my Patreon page. Or you can just tip me if you liked this.
Friday Tip
Dear Constant Reader,
It’s a very sad day in the burlesque world. Last night, we lost one of our Legends, Satan’s Angel, The Devil’s Own Mistress, Queen of the Fire Tassels. She was a force of nature and an inspiration to many performers.
I was fortunate enough to meet her a couple of times, most notably at The Great Burlesque Expo in 2008, where she impressed everyone by twirling her fire tassels. “Tatas Flambé”, she called them. Now, she’d been told the venue didn’t allow fire, but that was Angel — she did exactly what she wanted, damn the consequences. Her energy on stage belied her age and years of hard living. I still have not seen anyone work a duster like she did.
Despite her intimidating stage presence, she was quite approachable. She spoke her mind, bluntly and completely unfiltered, and if you were smart, you listened.
Today I want to share some wise words from Mr. Scratch, from when we first learned that Angel was ill:
If you are in the world of burlesque, figure out the legend who is closest to you (I don’t mean geographically; the one who speaks to you as a performer) and reach out to them. Listen to them; learn from them.
We did not invent Burlesque. We inherited it. We cannot keep its flame alive if we do not know what that flame is.
Our Legends are a precious link to our history, and a dwindling resource. Cherish them.
Yours in sorrow,
Friday Tip
Dear Constant Reader,
Happy Friday! This week’s tip comes from the wisdom of burlesque Legend Toni Elling, The Duke’s Delight. I first met Miss Elling at Miss Exotic World in 2006, but received this pearl from her at the very first BurlyCon.
Keep your head up.
Toni said never to drop your head on stage. You’re not ashamed of what you do, so never look like it. She also said not to take a bow, but to receive the audience’s appreciation upright. I’ve taken this advice to heart ever since.
Keeping your head up is about more than just pride in your chosen art. It also keeps your connection to and interest in the audience. Dropping your head breaks that connection. If you want to direct the audience’s attention to something low on the stage, like your leg, lower your eyes, but not your whole head. Similarly if you need to pick something up, bend from the hips or sink down into a squat while looking out, rather than just bending over from the waist.
As always there are exceptions: since lowering your head signals defeat or shame, these are emotions you may want to project for a specific character or moment.
Chin up!
Like this tip? There are lots more in Miss Mina Murray’s Little Book of Better Burlesque.
These writings and other creative projects are supported by my Patrons. Thank you so much! To become a Patron, go to my Patreon page.
In Memoriam: Blaze Starr
Dear Constant Reader,
The world has lost a burlesque legend. Blaze Starr, famed for her flaming couch, black panther, affair with the governor of Louisiana, and unrepentant attitude, died last week. You can read her obituary in the New York Times, if you like.
I’m not going to recap her fascinating life story here, for that you should read Blaze Starr: My Life as Told to Huey Perry, which I reviewed here some years ago.
At that time The Boston Babydolls were creating Madame Burlesque: An Evening of Tributes, a show inspired by the stars of burlesque’s Golden Age. For the most part, we weren’t doing tributes as most burlesquers use the term, meaning a re-creation of a legend’s signature act, but new acts that were inspired by those legendary performers.
Betty Blaize was creating a Blaze Starr-inspired act for one of her numbers and Scratch wanted permission before bringing it to the stage. Miss Starr generously granted it, via email, requesting that the act be “in good taste”. Betty performed a slinky, sultry striptease climaxing with the famed flames.
I was told that when Blaze’s couch burst into flames, sometimes she would holler “barbecue tonight, boys!”. Every time Betty’s flames ignited, she really, really wanted to follow suit, but it would have wrecked the mood she was creating and therfore violated the good taste request.
We’re really honored that we were allowed to present a piece in Miss Starr’s name and with her blessing.
Recently Scratch acquired this fabulous piece of Blaze Starr memorabilia:
It means a lot to us because of the Boston connection. The Pilgrim Theater was in the Combat Zone, where burlesque fled after the redevelopment of Scollay Square, and was probably the last true burlesque house in Boston. A number of big names performed there in the mid 1970’s and I suspect this handbill was from 1974.
Bold, brash, larger than life, and a good businesswoman, Blaze Starr made a huge impact on the world of burlesque (and politics!). She will not be forgotten.
Oh, The Glamourous Life! 