From “Herstory: a Burlesque Retelling of History’s Greatest Women”. I performed a piece about “Anonymous”. Photo by Dahlia Strack
Sunday’s show was fantastic. A stellar cast and crew made it happen, with an amazing turnout of people who proved to be an excellent audience. The atmosphere was fun, sexy, thoughtful, and powerful. My performance made people cry, and I was shaking afterward. A lot of consideration and love went into the creation of this piece. I was thankful to be sharing a stage with other powerful performers that night. I hope another event with a similar focus is produced in the future. A huge congratulations to our producer, Frankie Stein!
Often I don’t share scripts from performances I’ve created. I do share them with my Patreon subscribers regularly. I’d like to share this one with everyone though. My patrons will still be the only ones privy to video of the performance.
The performance started out with me walking through the audience sharing famous historical quotes and the names of women, written on leaves taped to my body. I was plucked clean of my leaves by audience members, I then shared the names of the 14 (at my last count) names of trans people who have been killed this year as I walked back to stage. Most of those names belonging to trans women, and many of them women of color. This is the country we live in. We are not egalitarian finding targets for our hate crimes.
My performance was a tribute to “Anonymous”, the name assigned to so many women and queers historically, and who is very much still a part of our reality. Through misattributions, a general failure to highlight the work of women and minorities, and many other factors I represented Anonymous in iterations of her silent existence. At the end of the performance I disrobed completely, taking back narrative of my own body’s image. A celebration.
My audience gave me a standing ovation. It was an incredible moment to share with that room of people.
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Anonymous was a woman
by Creature/Karin Webb
Anonymous was a woman.
Anonymous was the girl who answered — in class, in the board room, on that panel — but no one heard her. That boy/man repeated her words louder, or to a bigger audience, or amongst other men with credentials and the power to publish.
Anonymous is also the shadow we named “woman” who famously stands behind “every great man”.
Anonymous took a man’s name — her lover’s father’s, grandfather’s, great-grandfather’s name — as she was “given away”, tagged as property, chattel, in marriage.
Anonymous was a lesbian.
Anonymous was a queer, a trans man, and many many trans women.
Anonymous was a person, a woman of color for sure.
Anonymous was a sex worker and an artist paying her own way.
Anonymous was trafficked.
Anonymous are the women, children, and sometimes men who didn’t press charges. The 7 in 10 rape cases which are never reported. Anonymous because they feared for their safety from those people who count on the erasable and unmemorable reality of Anonymous.
Anonymous was the woman without schooling, but not without dreams, the woman whose fingers made quilts and blankets to keep her children warm — her name, dreams, desires, and stories now forgotten as we look upon her life in stitches hanging in a museum. Called Americana.
Anonymous became our intuition instead of our canon when her name was never the answer on a test as part of our public school’s curriculum.
Anonymous is given a man’s name over and over again, even though her words, her wisdoms, and her knowledge was gleaned from the life she lived. She slides further from history’s spotlight into profoundly common obscurity.
Anonymous is the pregnant belly, the overweight body, the older woman’s physique, the hairy legs, arms, bikini line, and upper lip kept covered, ripped off, and secret. Sexualized. Carrying the weight of disgust, lust, judgment, and anything but peace in existence naturally.
Anonymous is the “female nipple” fighting for the same amount of vitamin D as it’s male counterpart on social media.
Anonymous was sexualized to sell something.
Anonymous couldn’t find an abortion clinic nearby.
Anonymous was arrested for dancing too close.
Anonymous committed suicide after being bullied and shamed.
Anonymous are the authors whose biographies aren’t written and the stories never published because “her-story” isn’t marketable to the masses.
Erased.
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Play On My Friends,
~ Creature
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~Thank you.
