Back to Black Burlesque

 

Burlesque dancer Raven recalls a time when, after a performance, an audience member wanted to take a photo with the cast. But she wasn’t in the picture — they handed her the camera so she could photograph her castmates instead. 

That’s just one example of how local Black dancers say they’ve felt excluded from the burlesque industry. Now, Raven and other dancers are doing something about it. 

Raven, Betty Vou Plaît, Lucee McFly, Rainy Galore and Remy Ryder have an eclectic mix of personalities, but are united by their melanated skin and passion for dance. The five women joined forces after discussing their similar experiences dealing with racism. They hoped that employing burlesque and nonhierarchical organizational structures would help elevate self-esteem of people of color and challenge Eurocentric beauty standards.  

“The company was born because we didn’t feel accepted,” says Raven. “So that’s one thing that we all have in common, not feeling accepted in a predominantly white scene. It’s a shared feeling each member has experienced, and that in particular is why we do what we do. … It was just an idea about the lack of diversity we noticed in the scene and decided to be that change we want to see.”  

Back to Black Burlesque made its debut in the dance scene at Kindling Arts Festival in 2017. From there, the troupe began producing shows to create performing opportunities that they previously lacked. Their April showcase at The Barbershop Theater featured a dozen dancers and drew a crowd. They’re creating an environment for Black men and women to feel safe and comfortable while showing off their talent.  

Prior to founding Back to Black, the artists say racial tension and tokenization were becoming more and more apparent in their field. Vou Plaît has questioned the motives of her employers. “I often wonder, am I being booked because I’m talented or because I was raised by members of the dominant culture and essentially bred to move between the two cultures?” she says.   

The group wants to make it possible for generations of Black men and women to be chosen because of their talent and not just to fill a diversity void. They hope companies learn that when they look past demographics, they open a door to a world full of talented people. “We want to create opportunities for Black bodies to perform and be showcased for their actual talents and not as a form of tokenism,” McFly says.  

Biased acts toward people of color in the dance industry contributed to one Back to Black member’s decision to relocate. Rainy Galore says she experienced discrimination over and over but didn’t allow it to hinder her passion for dance. In Nashville, she says she was completely ignored by producers — but since becoming a traveling showgirl, she’s been booked weekend after weekend. “Some producers think that certain skin colors don’t fit their aesthetic, or [they] believe that we should conform to what the ideal ‘look’ is for burlesque,” she says.  

Raven describes how racial discrimination has impacted her emotionally. She would feel insecure about being booked because she didn’t know if she was chosen based on merit or to fill a diversity quota. She would even question if the employers liked her performance. “Having the courage to dance in downtown Nashville is also something I’ve had to work on,” Raven says, “because there’ve been times that I knew I was dancing for people that didn’t come to see my Black body onstage.” However, she believes those experiences gave her thicker skin, a bonus within the industry.  

To dissolve the race barrier within the creative community and foster multicultural environments, Back to Black also wants to bridge the training gap. Being a dancer can be expensive, and not everyone has access to the same resources necessary to pursue the art form. The women offer low-cost classes to people who are interested in becoming students of creative dance. By encouraging other Black people to learn burlesque, they encourage them to embrace their talents even if some people in the world do not. At the April show at The Barbershop, audience members could choose to buy a “Wealth Privileged Allies” ticket for $40; the additional $25 provided free tickets for people who otherwise could not afford to attend. 

Each member feels they have been met with challenge after challenge — but they say it’s no different from the racial fight they’ve been in their entire lives. Fostering a judgment-free environment that prioritizes and celebrates Black femmes, regardless of someone’s gender, is finally happening. They hope to see the rest of Nashville push toward inclusion.  

“I’d love to see productions that highlight individuals from different cultural backgrounds, of different skill levels and disciplines,” Vou Plaît says. “I would love to see people in the audience who look like me and who don’t look like me. A lot is lost by segregation, and I would love to witness what increased cross-pollination could look like in the city’s underground creative scenes.”