On a small, dark stage sits a lone black chair against the backdrop of a red velvet curtain. Off to the side, the bar bustles as patrons grab dirty martinis and glasses of whiskey before hustling to their tables. At a quarter past 8, the lights dim and the spotlight widens, and when the music kicks on, out walks a tall, thin woman wearing a tan trench coat and cherry-red heels. As the crowd erupts in applause, four of her friends stand in the back corner behind the bright lights, cheering her on and waiting their turns. The dances they are about to perform are stripped down and seductive, but this is not our city’s infamous stretch of East Baltimore Street known as The Block. That neighborhood’s glitter-infused glory days of feather boas and silken gloves lost its luster long ago, giving way to seedy strip clubs and boarded-up facades.

Instead, at The Windup Space in Station North, these women are part of the Gilded Lily Burlesque troupe, the local leader of a burgeoning movement that has blossomed across Baltimore. From Hampden to Highlandtown, the risqué revival takes the classic exotic dance form, full of fluid movements and fine lines, and transforms it into a modern-day art form—one that transcends body type and the male gaze. These femme fatales use the spotlight to take their bodies back, and with each pull of pantyhose or shake of a tasseled pasty, they embrace their own skins and expose their truest selves.

In Baltimore, this burlesque rebirth has been gracing the stages of dive bars and decorated theaters for the past 15 years, beginning with tantalizing trailblazer Trixie Little and her sidekick, Evil Hate Monkey. “At the time [in the early 2000s], I remember wanting the quaintness of a burlesque show in an intimate space,” recalls Trixie, who now lives in New York. “It seemed so romantic, but you couldn’t find it anywhere, so we started creating the work we wanted to see.” Through their own gigs and, eventually, a host of burlesque boot camp classes, the duo birthed a new generation of local performers, including Gilded Lily’s founder, Maria Bella. “I fell in love,” says Maria. “It was funny and theatrical. I knew I needed to start my own troupe.”

Now in its 10th year, Gilded Lily performs a wide variety of monthly shows at venues like The Windup Space and Creative Alliance. As the longest-running troupe in the city, they’ve witnessed the evolution of burlesque from a niche pastime to a national entertainment, as big-name performers such as Dita Von Teese pack playhouses and push the racy revue mainstream. Now known as neo-burlesque, it takes the old traditions of satin and skin and infuses them with theatrical story lines, variety show elements, and plenty of off-kilter humor.

Since its founding in 2007, Gilded Lily has undergone multiple iterations, finally finding the right formula in its current five performers (plus two honorary members who’ve since moved away). “Art is collaboration for us,” says Maria. “We have all become friends and a real sisterhood.”

Gilded Lily feels like a family, but each woman takes the stage with a unique set of styles and skills. Nona Narcisse is a classically trained dancer, while GiGi Holliday is a jazz singer. With her background in theater, Ruby Spruce, the troupe’s newest member and the woman on The Windup Space stage, does a mean Carol Burnett, while Mourna Handful brings a dose of dark comedy. For her part, Maria plays the trumpet.

The troupe also comes in all colors, shapes, and sizes. Gilded Lily is at once tall and short, skinny and full-bodied, Italian and black and Irish, with a dash of Native American and Jewish. It is brunette and redheaded, with a touch of fuchsia hair. It has a smattering of tattoos, and the occasional facial piercing. It is loud and proud and extroverted, and yet modest and introspective. “Separately, we are amazing,” says GiGi, “but when we come together, we are the Justice League, the A-Team—we are super heroes.”

Much like superheroes, they arrive in the spotlight under the guise of pseudonyms and alter egos, which, for many, are a fun form of escapism, though for others, they serve a purpose. Some women, like Ruby and Mourna, choose to keep their passion a secret from their employers for fear of being fired.

“There are still some people who are like, ‘What is it, stripping?’” mocks Maria. “First off, don’t denounce stripping. Those women are strong, and the brass ovaries they have to wear are impressive and inspiring.” Of course burlesque is a highly stylized art form, she explains, “but yes, we take our clothes off in bars—we are strippers—and we embrace that.”

Besides, burlesque performances rarely reveal it all. There’s always a pasty here or a panty there. But Gilded Lily is constantly working to break down those same-old stripper stereotypes. The audience sees a series of short sets—a song, a stocking pull, an exit shimmy—but what isn’t always apparent is all the time and dedication that went into those mere five minutes, from the costly creation of costumes sewn by the performers themselves to the countless hours of choreography and collaboration.

For many performers, burlesque is less of an outward exhibition than it is an outlet for creativity. “Burlesque can really be anything you deem interesting, weird, or beautiful,” says Nona, noting that acts can vary from classic striptease to avant-garde theater and dance. “It’s this wonderful adult art project.”

With artistic freedom comes female empowerment, and neo-burlesque has become synonymous with a sort of feminism, instilling its disciples with a unique brand of courage and confidence. “It’s a powerful decision to say I decide how my body is going to be displayed, and I decide that I get to display it,” says Ruby, “and it’s not something that I should feel ashamed of.”

In many ways, it is also a form of catharsis. For honorary troupe member Sophia Sunday, it helped her rebuild after an abusive relationship. For GiGi, it was a reminder that she was still beautiful after a broken engagement. “It teaches you how to walk taller, and gracefully, in a way that shows you’re a force to be reckoned with,” says Maria. “It teaches you to be comfortable in your own sexuality and sensuality. I love seeing people come out of their shells. They look at themselves like, I can be sexy, and I don’t have to look a certain way to do so. Sexy is how I feel.”

At its core, burlesque has always been a form of parody—a humorous and theatrical entertainment. By definition, it is “a literary or dramatic work that seeks to ridicule by means of grotesque exaggeration or comic imitation,” according to Merriam-Webster. In its early days during the Victorian era, burlesque was an outlet for the lowbrow satire of highbrow society. Even before that, it was associated with Shakespeare and ancient Greece.

Eventually, the art form evolved into the now-nostalgic “classic burlesque” of the late 19th through mid-20th centuries, with its high-glam, hyper-feminine performers draped in gorgeous costumes and decked in crystals and furs. Think of the scantily clad cabaret dancers of Folies Bergère or Moulin Rouge in Belle Époque Paris, or the big, bright-light marquees of 1950s Baltimore. But even then, famed performers such as Gypsy Rose Lee and The Block’s own Blaze Starr used comedy with their corsets. “I never tried to be sexy,” Starr told The Sun in 1989. “I always wore a mink coat and said, ‘Phew! It’s warm in here.’”

By the time the neo-burlesque scene arrived in the 1990s, classic burlesque had already devolved into neighborhoods like The Deuce in New York and the now-tattered Block in Charm City, having become almost interchangeable with striptease. Burdened by that stigma, neo-burlesque was relegated to subculture status. But in those unconventional corners, the community was able to flourish and quietly grow.

“Burlesque just means to turn things on their heads,” says Maria. Sure, birthday suits play a starring role, but it’s really about the tease, the build-up, the big reveal, she explains. “You can have so much fun with it. You don’t even have to show your body to make it burlesque.”

In many ways, it taunts the audience’s most basic desires while also breaking down old clichés. “Everyone in our troupe is completely unique,” says Maria, proudly declaring that no member of Gilded Lily is your typical blonde-haired, blue-eyed Barbie doll. “With us, you’re going to see that your perception of what is beautiful is not necessarily the epitome of beauty. There’s no body shaming here. No matter what style, size, age, race, orientation, or gender, everybody deserves a voice.”

For their part, Baltimoreans have long embraced creative forms of self-expression, especially those that are underdog and DIY, which, down to every last gemstone on a bedazzled bustier, burlesque undoubtedly is. “Baltimore is always looking for the weird and the authentic,” says Trixie Little. “It has always been a fantastic place to try things that are different.” From John Waters to the American Visionary Art Museum to the underground arts community, “there is a lot of risk-taking that happens in Baltimore,” says Josh Kohn, performance director of the Creative Alliance. “There’s this understanding that artists can get a little crazy here, and we take a point of pride in that.”

Burlesque audiences here are not your typical peep-show crowd, either. Attendees of both sexes range from young friends and old couples to regulars and newbies. “The highest compliment I’ve ever received was from a beautiful silver-haired lady who came up to me after a show and said, ‘You make me proud to be a woman,’” recalls Nona. “I love hearing the laughter,” adds Mourna with a smile. “That is a truly authentic emotional response, and it feels good to hear them think something is funny, too.”

Several venues from the early days of the local burlesque revival have since disappeared, but many supportive stages do live on—the Creative Alliance, The Windup Space, Ottobar, Mobtown Ballroom, Church & Company—and new places, including restaurants and bars, continue to crop up.

Troupes have come and gone, but with the help of these venues, a bevy of other performers have become headlining names: Tapitha Kix, Cherie Nuit, Ruby Rockafella, and Kay Sera, to name a few. Not everyone is best friends—it is a business, after all—but the competition is welcome. “Sometimes we joke that you can’t swing a cat without hitting a burlesque performer,” laughs Maria. “But all of our shows are very different and we’re mindful of not stepping on each other’s toes.”

In 2014, the Maryland Institute College of Art even celebrated the growing scene with an exhibition entitled “Workin’ the Tease,” featuring portraits, costumes, and an entire wall of pasties in the hallowed halls of the Lyric. “It was like A League of Their Own,” brims Maria. “It was wonderful. We all cried being up on that stage for the first time.”

Gilded Lily is doing its part to nurture the local community by including independent performers in their own group shows. During August’s “Fight the Power” performance at the Creative Alliance, they welcomed multiple guests, including beloved drag queen Betty O’Hellno, who dressed as a mermaidian Statue of Liberty and wafted about the stage to Lana Del Rey, and relative newcomer Jacqueline Boxx, who donned peacock feathers and fishnets and rocked out to Demi Lovato from the seat of her wheelchair. “It’s amazing to see these different worlds colliding and coming together,” says Betty, “and learning from each other.”

Gilded Lily’s goal for inclusivity also feeds into its newfound mission for diversity in Baltimore burlesque, where performers of color suffer from a lack of visibility. The troupe sees its medium as a ripe platform for social discourse, as well as advocacy and activism.

Inspired by the Baltimore Uprising and 2016 election, the Creative Alliance show tackled topical issues through both playful and poignant acts, and a portion of the proceeds went to the criminal justice reform nonprofit the Innocence Project. After a powerful performance set to Michael Jackson’s “They Don’t Care About Us,” during which GiGi, who is African American, wore a white bodysuit that read “Say Their Name,” she ran backstage and cried into Maria’s arms.

“Burlesque is my own protest,” she says. “To see a woman like myself—brown, thick, from a drug-ridden part of D.C. where I was told by society from the moment I was born that I would never amount to anything, that I would be a statistic, a teen parent, that I would never go to college, and that if I took off my clothes, my body would be disgusting, that I’m disgusting. Every time I step on that stage, it’s my chance to say, ‘No, you’re wrong.’”

Like many other creatives across the city and country, the women of Gilded Lily are starting to see the ways in which their art form can be used for a greater good. “We’re changing because society is changing,” says Maria. “We want to make a difference and be a bigger part of the community,” be it by fundraising, volunteering, or teaching classes.

In the next few years, she hopes to launch the city’s first-ever burlesque festival. They’re happening in other places—New Orleans, Toronto, London, New York—and it’s high time that Baltimore, so steeped in both eras of burlesque culture, has its own. “We need to,” says Maria, “and it’s going to be all-embracing to showcase all of the talents of our city. It’s going to show that we’re here. And we’re not going anywhere.”

JASON’S WOODS
OCT. 3-NOV. 8: Jason’s Woods, 99 Stehman Rd., Lancaster, PA. Fri-Sat. 7-10 p.m., Sun. 7-9 p.m. jasonswoods.com. Six attractions, including a Horrifying Hayride and a cursed corn maze.

MAKE-YOUR-OWN GLASS-BLOWN PUMPKIN
OCT. 23: Corradetti Glassblowing Studio & Gallery, 2010 Clipper Park Rd., Ste. 119. 6, 7, and 8 p.m. corradetti.com. Create your own four-inch pumpkin. Wine served!

ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE
OCT. 24: Cromwell Valley Park, 2002 Cromwell Bridge Rd., Parkville. 6:30-8 p.m. cromwellvalleypark.org. Learn wilderness survival skills you would need if modern technology fails. Ages 10 and up.

ZOMBIE HORDE SCAVENGER HUNT
OCT. 24: Robert E. Lee Park, 1000 Lakeside Dr. 7 p.m. relpnc.org. Escape zombies and win prizes for collecting items along the trail.  Ages 12 and up.

ZOOBOOO!
OCT. 24-26:The Maryland Zoo, 1876 Mansion House Dr. 10 a.m.-4 p.m. Free-$17.50 marylandzoo.org. Celebration full of trick-or-treating, fun carnival games, and live entertainment. 

ANNUAL HALLOWMARINE CELEBRATION
OCT. 25-26: National Aquarium, 501 E. Pratt St. 10 a.m.-3 p.m. aqua.org. Celebration with crafts, a costume parade, and animal encounters.

SPOOKY SCIENCE
OCT. 25: Maryland Science Center, 601 Light St. 12-4 p.m. mdsci.org. Enjoy creepy crafts, activities, and fang-tastic demonstrations.

HARRY POTTER HALLOWEEN
OCT. 25-26: Oregon Ridge Nature Center, 13555 Beaver Dam Rd., Cockeysville. 1 p.m. oregonridgenaturecenter.org. Enter the world of Harry Potter with wizard crafts and a visit from a magical creature. Ages 5 and up. 

15TH ANNUAL GREAT HALLOWEEN LANTERN PARADE & FESTIVAL: KALEIDOSCOPE
OCT. 25: Patterson Park, 3:30 p.m. creativealliance.org. Annual lantern parade and festival. Parade at 7 p.m.

GLOW BALL DANCE PARTY & COSTUME CONTEST
OCT. 25: Creative Alliance, 3134 Eastern Ave. 8:30 p.m. creativealliance.org. Adults-only Lantern Parade after-party.

HAUNTED HALLOWEEN HIKE
OCT. 25: Robert E. Lee Park, 1000 Lakeside Dr. 6:30-8:30 p.m. relpnc.org. Solve a Halloween mystery while encountering witches and wildlife along the way. Costumes welcome. Ages 5 to 12. 

15TH ANNUAL GOODWILL GRIDIRON HALLOWEEN PARTY
OCT. 27: Dave & Busters, 7000 Arundel Mills Cir., Hanover. 7 p.m. goodwillgridiron.com. Party with the Baltimore Ravens that includes food, open bar, a costume contest, dancing, games, and a silent auction.

TRICKS AND TREATS AT OREGON RIDGE
OCT. 31: Oregon Ridge Nature Center, 13555 Beaver Dam Rd., Cockeysville. 4:30 p.m. oregonridgenaturecenter.org. Wear your costume and discover the tricks and treats that plants and animals present along the way. Ages 5 and up. 

HALLOWEEN 2014
OCT. 31: Maryland Science Center, 601 Light St., 8 p.m.-1 a.m. $35-65. halloween-baltimore.com. In its third year, this Halloween extravaganza features craft beer, live music across four unique areas, a costume contest, all of the science exhibits open, and a new art gallery.

Sure, it’s convenient to stop at the Marquee Lounge for a beer and a
bite to eat before or after a show at Creative Alliance at the Patterson
in Highlandtown. But you don’t really need a performance as an excuse
to sidle up to the bar or take a seat at one of the restaurant’s bare
wood tables. The small, lively bistro is a destination unto itself. For a
short time, the Hamilton restaurant Clementine managed the space,
installing one of its former sous chefs in the kitchen. When the
restaurateurs pulled out of the Creative Alliance, chef Jeremy Price
stayed behind to oversee the seasonal, local offerings. And we’re glad
he did. He’s constructed a tight, interesting menu with several items
that have Asian influences. The food here is unfussy, yet exhilarating.
The banh-mi sandwich, for example, is a hearty version of the Vietnamese
staple with Berkshire pork belly, silky chicken-liver pâté, house-made
sausages, and kimchi vegetables stuffed into a crusty baguette that’s
been slathered with chili-lime mayo.

Light fare ranges from
wild-mushroom pancakes and sautéed kale to Korean Buffalo wings. We fell
in love with the “char-cu-te-rie,” an array of house-smoked duck
breast, more of that pâté, a house-made pork terrine, a dollop of
excellent blue cheese, house-made pickles, and enough toasted-bread
slices for all of the parts. The blackened chicken nachos are easily a
table snack: A pile of locally made Tortilleria Sinaloa nachos blanketed
with pickled-jalapeño cheese, pico de gallo, and crème fraîche.

The
night we visited, there were three entrees—chicken pot pie, a veggie
noodle bowl, and a grilled Creekstone Farms steak with chimichurri
sauce, mashed potatoes, and mixed vegetables. We’ll definitely go back
another night for a full dinner.

The desserts are as homey and
earnest as the savory choices. Though the flourless chocolate cake was a
temptation, we opted for a good-old-fashioned carrot cake that we’re
sure was baked with tender, lovin’ care.

The tiny room was packed
the night we visited. It’s a cozy environment with dark brick walls and
wood and a bar that basks in a painted mural’s reds, oranges, and
yellows—a gorgeous setting to enjoy cocktails, wine, or craft brews. And
the bartenders and servers are as congenial as the place.

The
restaurant entrance is off the Creative Alliance’s lobby. And while the
galleries and stage are a draw, the Marquee Lounge certainly deserves
its own starring role.

Velvet Elvis

December 15, 2013
E. Fort Avenue

The
slightly battered, retro, red-leather stools are filled, but turned
away from the bar as patrons peruse the rear “gallery” wall. At the end
of Idle Hour’s narrow corner bar, DJ Mike Yonko spins 45s, including
“Blue Christmas” and “Suspicious Minds,” in keeping with tonight’s
“Velvet Elvis Off”—a combination art competition and charity auction.

Bartender/curator
Jen Gallia explains that the 14 works (starting bids range from $2.99
to $250) will be sold to raise money for BARCS, the Baltimore animal
rescue shelter. Meanwhile, themes in the kitschy paintings swing wildly
across the pop-cultural spectrum.

“That’s Tebow-Elvis,” a customer
swilling a beer notes to his girlfriend, pointing to a painting of a
solemn Elvis in a pose made famous by the former NFL quarterback.
“That’s Jimi-Elvis,” he continues, gesturing to a psychedelic portrait
of the King, “and at the end is Hound Dog, Poker-Playing Elvis.”

Other
works include a glimmering, velvet-pompadoured Elvis next to a tray of
deep-fried peanut-butter-and-banana sandwiches and a surreal cutout
featuring Elvis’s face, Lou Rawls’s body, and Phil Ochs’s guitar with
Graceland in the background. Ultimately, Joe Glorioso, an ad agency art
director, wins Best Work—receiving a tiny cut of the canvases’ sales.

“Painting
on velvet is hard, like painting on a sock. Just absorbs everything,”
Glorioso says, referring to his silhouette of the icon, circa 1971, in
cape and faux rhinestones, spreading his arms beneath a spotlight
pouring down from above. Upon inspection, a crucifixion image of Jesus
is revealed on the King’s plastic, oversized belt buckle—reconfigured
from a dime-store bracelet. “Elvis is like a religious figure to
people,” says Glorioso, who grew up watching the singer’s movies with
his mom. “I just wanted to take it up a notch.”

---

Neo-Burlesque

December 20, 2013
Eastern Avenue

The
Creative Alliance is packed for the third show in a five-performance
burlesque run, and the tassels will be twirling soon enough, but first,
emcee Murray Hill—a tuxedoed “drag king” channeling a Catskills-era Don
Rickles—wants to get to know the crowd. “The woman in the ‘I Love Female
Orgasm’ T-shirt, are you with the guy on your left or the woman on your
right?” Hill asks of an audience member near the stage. “Both,” the
woman replies. “This is my husband and she’s my girlfriend. It’s a
polyamorous relationship.”

“You gotta love Baltimore,” Hill says,
smiling mischievously as the crowd breaks up. “A polyamorous . . . so
does he get to watch when you two . . . or join in?” The women, who’ve
had a few drinks, laugh nervously, and then stammer briefly before
responding.

“C’mon ladies,” Hill (real name: Betsey Gallagher) chides. “Get your story straight. He’s sitting right here.”

After
Hill’s opening shtick, the night’s first exotic dancer, Perle
Noire—shimmering red dress and feather boa—va-va-vooms down the runway,
leaving behind one long white glove at a time. She’s followed by a tap
dancing, bare-almost-all flapper named Gin Minsky.

Eventually the
show’s stars, 6-foot-6 inch “Mr. Gorgeous” and 5-foot, flame-haired
powerhouse Trixie Little, take the stage together, mixing acrobatics,
dance, and sex appeal like a pair of campy, X-rated figure skaters.

This
is the ninth year that Trixie, aka Keri Burneston, has brought the show
here, which Creative Alliance co-founder Megan Hamilton calls “a
bedrock of our holiday programming.” Asked how, exactly, burlesque
reflects the holiday season, Hamilton says many Baltimoreans have made a
tradition of bringing family members who return home this time of year.
“And,” she notes after a pause, “there are the twerking gingerbread
men.”

---

True Meaning

December 28, 2013
E. Lombard Street

“Habari
[How are you?],” Maulana Karenga booms in Swahili, greeting the
overflowing Kwanzaa crowd inside the Reginald F. Lewis Museum’s theater.
“Nzuri! [Good!]”

Born Ronald Everett, not far from the Eastern
Shore birthplaces of Frederick Douglass and Harriet Tubman, Karenga
founded the weeklong celebration of African culture 47 years ago. Active
in the Black Power movement and a scholar with two Ph.D.s, Karenga
explains Kwanzaa is a means for African-Americans to “reaffirm our
rootedness” in African culture and “reintroduce African communitarian
values.”

Karenga’s African-wisdom teaching is followed by
Baltimore’s Sankofa Dance troupe, local beatboxer Shodekeh, and Griot
storytelling. Throughout the day, “Mama” Sallah directs crafting
workshops, including weaving traditional red, black, and green Kwanzaa
mats.

“I’ve celebrated Kwanzaa since 1976,” Sallah says. “In West
Baltimore, in those days, you went house to house celebrating Kwanzaa
every night.

If you did it right, it took three days of cooking to
prepare—chicken, fish, collared greens, sweet potatoes, corn bread,
bread pudding, rice pudding, banana pudding, apple pie—150 people might
come by. At every house, there was one room to put the kids, and it
would be a party all night,” she continues with a laugh. “Now it’s too
commercial.”