The men behind the women of the Kinsey Sicks Dragapella Beautyshop Quartet explain their own special brand of ‘dragtivism,’ and their holiday show at the Rio
Before Irwin Keller served as an unordained rabbi to an alternative congregation in Sonoma, before he donned towering stilettos and sparkling eyeshadow, even before he went to a life-changing Bette Midler concert, he was a gay rights lawyer in Chicago. But 21 years ago, he decided he preferred polka dot skirts to pressed suits.
Keller plays Winnie in the Kinsey Sicks, a “dragapella beautyshop quartet” that returns to Santa Cruz next week for their holiday show “Oy Vey in a Manger.” He describes his past lives as “ancient history,” but the last two decades have seen the singing, dancing, wickedly funny a capella drag group rise from Castro-district street corners to national fame. Or infamy, depending on who you ask.
But while their live shows, DVDs, and albums have been described as ribald, raunchy and risqué—and are often dappled (or saturated) with delightfully profane and thinly veiled innuendo (“more like X-uendo,” says Keller)—their performances are not just empty schadenfreude.
“Sometimes the press will write about us and say that we’re equal opportunity offenders, but that’s not true,” says Keller. “We will make fun of politicians who try to take away people’s rights; we will make fun of people that try to make people feel bad about who they are.”
Founding members Keller and Ben Schatz know a thing or two about offending for a cause; both worked as lawyers fighting for gay rights legislation in the ’80s. After heading the Gay and Lesbian Medical Association and attending Harvard Law School, Schatz was an advisor to Bill Clinton, and authored the former president’s HIV policy during the 1992 campaign.
Keller, after studying Aramaic in Israel and going back to school for law, pushed through a gay rights ordinance in Chicago at a time when it was far from a popular cause—the AIDS epidemic was at its height, states didn’t recognize gay rights and Chicago was run by Mayor Richard J. Daley, who had held the post for 21 years until his death. The “machine politics” that ran the city kept it stagnant, says Keller. A bill had been sitting in the city council for years, he says, but no one was brave enough to touch it.
“Then in the early ’80s there was a change and Harold Washington became the first African-American mayor of Chicago. It was a moment when all of a sudden people on the margins felt like there was possibility and new coalitions were forming,” says Keller. “I remember going to hearings at city hall, and the evil alderman, the evil city council people, saying to the disability organization ‘We would be willing to pass this law if the gay part were taken out.’ And the disability people saying ‘We will walk out.’ All of a sudden there were other people fighting for our rights, it was shocking to us. We had never even imagined it.”
From the margins to the spotlight, the movement gained power and legitimacy as states began to get on board.
The Kinsey Sicks got their start when Keller and Schatz, with friends Maurice Kelly, Jerry Friedman and Abatto Avilez, went to a Bette Midler concert in 1993 dressed as the Andrews Sisters. From then on, their activism had a bit more flair.
“One of the things that we were really aware of was how hard our work was—and how rewarding it was—but really, it was not joyful,” says Keller. “It was hard and it was dispiriting sometimes, and it was also very respectable; we wore suits and said proper things. At the moment that the idea for the Kinsey Sicks arose, it was such a relief. It was a way to let off steam and be silly, but also to be able to say things—what we really thought about politics, what we really thought was happening in the gay community, things we couldn’t say in our professional positions”
“There is no better revenge than comedy,” adds Schatz.
Now with a bit more glitter, cleavage and a lot more sass, the dragapella group (a term coined by them), sing about sex, politics, body image issues, cultural expectations, sex, media exploitations … and more sex.
But while their parody song lyrics might make the best of us blush (“I Will Swallow Him” comes to mind), their critiques are never without a very deliberate bite.
Spencer Brown, who’s been with the group since 2008 and plays Trampolina, says that the goal is never to mock the undeserving.
“We want the audience to be in on the joke, and to be with us for the ride. We do try to push their comfort level,” Brown says. “We push boundaries, but when we do we want people to feel uncomfortable because we’re challenging them to think. We don’t want them to feel uncomfortable because were making somebody feel bad.”
The Kinsey Sicks—whose name is derived from the Kinsey scale category “Kinsey 6” defined as “exclusively homosexual”—have shock-value, sure, but there’s a very real point to it all. Let’s call it dragtivism.
“Something that people think is just a raunchy song has a point of view about sex positivity, say, or about not being ashamed of sex, or about being who you are,” says Keller.
Jeffrey Manabat designs the costumes for the group, and also performs the role of Trixie. He says that their “Oy Vey In A Manger” show, which comes to the Rio Dec. 11 and benefits the local Jewish Renewal community Chadeish Yameinu, features some of his favorite songs, like “Crystal Time” and “Jenny Craig Hear My Sorrow,” which he relishes for their underlying themes.
“The first song addresses an unfortunately prevalent drug problem in the gay community,” Manabat says, “while the other looks at our national obsession with weight and appearance. There are much lighter songs in Oy Vey, too, like the hilarious Jewish-flavored parody, ‘Don’t Be Happy, Worry,’ the Chanukah spa classic ‘I Had a Little Facial’ and, of course, the requisite and new Christmas cuisine standard, ‘Soylent Night.’”
Keller says that moonlighting as a “lay rabbi” had little to do with the holiday parody’s conception, but he admits that it’s still “a pretty Jewish show.”
“There’s a certain critique of the paper-thin Christmas spirit, a Christmas spirit that’s very commercial and doesn’t seem to have any lasting impact on people. Whatever people are told in TV commercials of peace does not get any traction in the real world,” Keller says. “It’s also about recognizing that Christmas is a religious holiday. We treat it in America as if it was a secular celebration and it’s not. Mail’s not delivered and nobody works, but it feels like it’s everybody’s holiday. But it’s not everybody’s holiday. And there are presumptions around that that can be aggravating, so we respond to that as well in the show—the predicament of being a religious minority around the all-consuming Christmas season that goes from Halloween to New Year’s.”
As well as being an alternative to the standard Christmas theater, the plotline itself is revamped every so often to reflect relevant tropes. The current “Oy Vey” begins with Trixie, Trampolina, Rachel and Winnie facing the very real conundrum of foreclosure—on their manger.
After 21 years as Winnie, Keller is retiring at the end of this show’s run to focus on family and his rabbinical work. But there’s still something unique, he says, about feathering up the stockings, painting the perfectly lacquered faces and constructing the performance-resistant ’dos which makes it possible to talk about very real issues.
“If you have audiences, then being in dialogue with them about things that they’re feeling, that they might not have words for yet is very valuable,” says Keller. “For a lot of us, engaging in serious debate all the time is really hard to do. To hear the message that reflects your values and your heart—but it’s delivered in a really funny way—is very empowering, I think. We also have the ability to do it because of the characters we are. Because we’re in drag, we’re these characters. I think if we were four guys saying this, no one would be interested at all.”
Fair enough, but since our job is to present all viewpoints, GT sat down with all four of the group’s alter egos—Trampolina, Rachel, Trixie, and Winnie—to acquaint the world with the fabulous women of the Kinsey Sicks.
After all, behind every great man is a woman …
Trampolina
You began your show business career with ham and cheese, and a fateful encounter with a piano. Can you tell me a bit about that?
That’s when I first realized that I had musical talents, when that piano fell on me. It wasn’t long before I met the other Kinsey Sicks—they were passing through the hospital and singing to all the people to make them feel better, and I just started singing with them from my hospital bed. They said, “Hey, you should join our group,” and I said, “Well, can I recover first?” I’m still taking the painkillers for the leg. It was probably about 20 years ago. The girls let me take them because they keep me calm during the show.
Your bio on the Kinsey Sicks website says you may or may not have a bastard child conceived in Cancun?
If its mine, that’s some good exposure because I’ve always wanted to be on Maury. He’s the one that says “You are the father, you are the mother of this child!” He’s kind of like Santa Claus, but he brings all the babies instead of toys.
Would you be happy if Maury called and said you had a baby somewhere?
Babies make for good props.
What’s your role in the Kinsey Sicks?
I am a singer, and I also get to iron the dresses. That’s really the only thing that the girls feel comfortable with me doing. They feel that it’s the safest, least risky thing for me to do, which is surprising because there’s a lot of heat involved. There was this one time that I was entrusted with the sound equipment, and then I forgot to bring it.
Who are some of your personal music icons?
Oooh, I love a lot. I like top artists like Britney Spears; they’re really deep. They provide a lot of good material—thought-provoking material. They’re so moving. That song “Toxic,” it really gets to my soul.
Who are some fashion icons that inspire your look?
On the stage, we do tend to savor a sort of retro style, which never goes out of fashion. Influences from the ’60s, like June Cleaver, Lucille Ball—they have style. They prove that you can still be brassy without giving it all away.
Are you single nowadays, are you seeing anyone—what’s the deal?
Very much single. But also very much seeing everybody that I can in as much time as possible. Some people call it being easy. I call it being flexible.
Why would you tell people to go see “Oy Vey In a Manger?”
For people who are questioning whether or not the show is for them, I’d say it’s the perfect medicine for anybody who is already tired of the the traditional holiday productions that they have to suffer—if they are tired of the “Nutcracker” and A Christmas Carol, then this is the show for them.
Rachel
Your biography says you made your big break after being John Travolta’s personal masseuse. What was it like to rub his back? Was he one of those people who makes a lot of awkward moaning noises during massages?
No, but I was. Although honestly, it didn’t make me feel awkward. Moaning is underrated. Why, you’d be amazed how many audience members moan during our performances. I take it as a great compliment.
After working for Travolta, you got your big break in Two Girls One Cup: The Musical, how did that feel?
Crappy.
Trixie recently released a makeup line. Do you have any thoughts on animal testing?
Does Trampolina count as an animal? If so, I am all in favor of animal testing, just as long as it does not involve IQ testing. Trampolina tends to get depressed afterwards and pees on the carpet.
You’ve written that desperation is underrated in dating. How so?
Desperation can be a wonderful turn-on if accompanied by relentless persistence.
What’s more fun, the legal work or dragapella?
Ah, for the joy and mirth of being a lawyer again! Maybe some day I will find the strength to give up the drudgery of music and laughter to once again pursue my legal career.
Trixie
What’s your earliest memory?
Singing along to old Diana Ross and the Supremes albums in momma’s heels while rifling through daddy’s wallet. Or was it momma’s wallet and daddy’s heels?
Your biography says you’ve worked as “a gorgeous Caucasian American, a really gorgeous African American, and a somewhat unbelievably gorgeous Asian American.” Do you have a favorite?
Ooh, this is like Sophie’s Choice! Every iteration has added much-needed gorgeousness to America’s Favorite Dragapella Beautyshop Quartet. Don’t make me choose just one; the girls must have at least three. Or four, to include my future self: impossibly gorgeous Android American.
What sparked your decision to get racial reassignment surgery? Did you get a surgery for each of the prior roles? Did it hurt?
It was a matter of necessity. Different looks to fit the occasion, like leather corsets under a smart jacket for work, or sensible heels for the bedroom. The transitions did hurt, and that’s the way I like it.
You own Vegas chapels and divorce courts; have past relationships inspired the drive-through divorce court idea? How did you develop such a shrewd business sense?
The business was not inspired at all by past relationships. It was inspired by my future relationships. Where else can I and like-minded career girls get speedy, no-fuss settlements with huge discounts for multiple visits, and all in glorious four-part harmony?
Your bio says you’re also a fitness fan; who are some of your fitness icons? What’s your workout regimen?
Jack LaLanne. Jane Fonda. Richard Simmons. My workout regimen consists of vigorous and enthusiastic nude, hot, partners yoga—with you, and you, and especially you!
Tell me about Spackletacular, what led to producing your own cosmetic line?
Sometimes we working girls need more powerful cosmetics to get us through the day, and with “Spackletacular!” we can at last spend less time covering up our hangovers, and more time looking for husbands.
Who are some of your style icons? Favorite singers?
My style icons include some of the greatest female stars of the stage and screen: Elizabeth Taylor, Eartha Kitt, Maria Callas. But I draw the greatest inspiration from the most graceful beauty of them all: Miss Piggy. My favorite singers of all time are the drag a cappella group called The Kinsey Sicks. You should have heard of them by now.
Winnie
What’s your earliest memory?
I remember doctors, nurses, bright light, swaddling blankets. Wait … they’re wrinkled. Does no one in this damn hospital own an iron?
Being abandoned at an Amway Convention as a young child must’ve been truly scarring, how did that affect you?
It left me with a life-long irrational fear of Christian-oriented multi-level marketing.
So the radical lesbian Tupperware ladies took you in as their own after finding you at the convention. Was that difficult in the beginning, adjusting to all those leftovers?
Pish tosh. It was a growthful experience. I now know a thousand ways to prepare and store millet.
Did the Tupperware affect you later in life?
It made me appreciate things that are airtight and watertight. In fact, “tight” has become one of my greatest personal values.
You worked as a governess when you were young, what were some of your favorite experiences?
I have no favorite experiences as a governess. Being a governess requires seriousness and focus. Appreciation is merely a distraction. I would say that the worst part of being a governess is that they expect you to spend time with children.
You enjoy cooking, do you cook often?
Why yes. I bring a collapsible Dutch oven and camp stove with me whenever the Kinsey Sicks tour. Nothing better than the smell of root vegetables roasting in your Motel 6 bathroom.
Macrame is a hobby of yours, what do you love about it?
Besides being decorative, it is surprisingly effective for bondage scenes. Not that I would know that personally.
Who are some of your fashion icons?
Best dressed of all time certainly goes to Miss Jane Hathaway on the Beverly Hillbillies. Those capri pants and shapeless sweaters were beyond alluring.
Favorite dance move?
I’m a sucker for the Watusi.
Any relationship advice for young women looking for love?
Shower daily.
What are some of your biggest flaws?
Flaws?
The Kinsey Sicks perform their holiday show at 7:30 p.m. on Thursday, Dec. 11, at the Rio in Santa Cruz, $25/$40.
