Two queer people sit on an inflatable bed. A metal basin flipped upside down is used as a table.
Photo: Paule Turner and Dane Eissler

My Pussy Hurts Too

Anito Gavino

In an apartment, a dialogue between two actors is set in a disarrayed bedroom. Crumpled tissues on the floor, half-emptied soda bottles, and a raggedy wig tossed on the floor tell stories of sadness, various states of shambles, or even a night out gone wrong. In My Pussy Hurts Too, Paule Turner and Dane Eissler discuss this search for “nasty” intimacy amidst a society suffocating with rigidity. Through dance theater modes, they investigate a crossbreed of text and movement in an unapologetic display of sexy in queer performance, countering our Western heteronormative culture void of intimacy. Ironically, this display was set at a church space – Christ King Church, one of Cannonball Philadelphia Fringe Festival’s Venues.

My Pussy Hurts Too is a permission to say, “My name is Didi, and I’m a whore” or “My pussy is a voodoo.” It is permission to be nasty. It is a story of deep friendship between two gay men, Didi and Gogo. The work is a display of queer identities and a statement of one’s marginalization story that can be viewed as a privilege to someone else.

The piece begins with Paule Turner’s monologue, a “nasty” solo performance characterization of Didi and their interaction with a pink dildo. Didi does all the “nasty” with this pink dildo, shamelessly licking it and using it as a microphone. A dialogue between Didi and Gogo follows this monologue, showing a comparative analysis of nuanced experiences between many identities within queerness. When Didi says, “Blackness is a State of frustration,” she/they tell it how it is – their struggles are not only defined by their queerness but also by another layer of societal barrier, the navigation of their complex identities as a Black human in a White supremacist USA, which adds to this “pussy hurting.”

Dane Eissler continues her/their narrative as Gogo through another monologue. They reminisce on their coming-out story as a teen struggling for acceptance and retell a memory of tying necktie laces into nooses to end their struggles. Later, a shadowed figure holding a light source enters the scene. Gogo and Didi refer to this figure as the Gloryhole. Gogo’s reaction, “That is the gloriest gloryhole I have ever seen, and I think it wants us to repent for our sins!” gave me the impression that Gogo grapples with the conservative values of Catholicism.

The physical theater piece is quite wordy, but in hindsight, the text frames an important dichotomy within gay culture. My favorite part of the piece is the back-and-forth exclamation of their questioning dialogue, each question showing the stark difference between each identity, illustrating the two paradigms. As a queer Filipina, this resonates deeply with me and my understanding of another nuanced form of intersectionality that is often invisibilized.

The physical theater piece is quite wordy, but in hindsight, the text frames an important dichotomy within gay culture. My favorite part of the piece is the back-and-forth exclamation of their questioning dialogue, each question showing the stark difference between each identity, illustrating the two paradigms. As a queer Filipina, this resonates deeply with me and my understanding of another nuanced form of intersectionality that is often invisibilized.

My Pussy Hurts Too, Christ Church Neighborhood House, Sept 1-15.

Homepage Image Description:  A white gay man lies on the floor, almost fully naked. A Black gay man dressed in a tropical dress with a hair scarf, sunglasses, and a floral bag stands next to them, extending their arms as if asking, “What’s the matter?”

Article Page Image Description:  Two queer people sit on an inflatable bed. A metal basin flipped upside down is used as a table.

 

Share this article

Anito Gavino

Anito Gavino (formerly known as Annielille ANI Gavino) is a Filipinx movement artist, choreographer, teaching artist, and cultural worker whose life work centers on decolonial art activism through a research-to-movement performance practice. She is a staff writer with thINKingDANCE.

PARTNER CONTENT

Keep Reading

On Language Learning

Emilee Lord

A reading of Ways to Move: Black Insurgent Grammars by Jonathan González

Green-toned book cover featuring the silhouette of a forest and leaping figure with the title “Ways to Move: Black Insurgent Grammars by Jonathan González” on the right, and poetic text on the left reading: “i want to be with you in the ways with you of vertigo seas,” “i want to be with you in the ways with you of smashing monuments,” and “i want to be with you in the ways with you of these lonely trees.”
Photo: Courtesy of Jonathan González and Ugly Duckling Presse

Zooming Out and Weighing In

Jennifer Passios

Thirty-three writers shape Contact Improvisation’s next chapter.

A flat image of the front cover of "Resistance and Support: CI @ 50" appears centered on a dark maroon background. From top to bottom, the cover descends through sunset – muted burnt orange, carrot, creamsicle, golden rod, pale yellow, into a black and white photo of two dancers partnering in the ocean. One dancer is on his ass in the water. The other stands, both knees bent, reaching out for her comrade in the waves. They hold hands at the wrists, arms fully extended. The title “Resistance and Support,” each word on its own line, spans the top third of the cover page in a burgundy, serif font. Below, the subtitle “CI @ 50” slants in smaller white italics. The text “EDITED BY: Ann Cooper Albright,” back to the burgundy with no italics, sits about one thumbs width above the dancers in the ocean.
Photo: Courtesy of Ann Cooper Albright, includes photo by Lasse Lychnell