Alpha Psi Ecdysia sounds like a college sorority. In fact, on most days you'd find its members wandering about the SUNY New Paltz campus. But the "Ecdysia" part comes from "ecdysiast," which (
according to ye olde Wiki) is the term humorist H. L. Mencken coined for a stripper acquaintance who wanted a more dignified name for her profession. (Both words are based on "
ecdysis", meaning "to molt" or "to shed.")
So yes, the girls (and guys) of A.P.E. are, in fact, strippers -- more precisely, burlesque performers, part of the neo-burlesque movement spearheaded by the likes of Dita von Teese, Angie Pontani, and the Suicide Girls. Alpha Psi is an on-campus burlesque club -- one of only three in the entire country, and the only one at a state-run college. It's old-school (pun
very much intended!) bump 'n' grind that stops at pasties and G-strings, shot through with a healthy dose of role playing, satire, social commentary, and
some serious polymorphous perversity.
Gypsy Rose Lee would heartily approve; so would
Germaine Greer. I'd say more, but their own press release pretty much encapsulates what makes this troupe so much fun:
Saucy coeds, funky themes, uncomfortable parents, and academic tomfoolery with a side of nudity!...Alpha Psi Ecdysia offers comedy, live music, circus, and the sexiest girls (and boys) to ever pursue a useless degree. See New York State taxpayer dollars put to good use as "America's Hottest Small State School" takes its title literally. Tip 'em well! College ain't cheap.
Last week, A.P.E. celebrated their one-year anniversary with a performance down the road from their alma mater, and a mutual friend suggested I check them out (thanks, Liz Savage!). There aren't a lot of things that'll make me drive seventy miles across state lines...on a Thursday...in the pouring rain...with the promise of not getting home until two in the morning. Turns out this is one of them. And here are some of the reasons why.
We start with the aptly-named Lady Legs, a classic fan dancer in the
Sally Rand tradition. Elegant, posed, and graceful, whether with ostrich-feather fans that covered her as thoroughly as her evening gown, or a tiny paper fan that barely covered anything. Burlesque has always been the rougher downtown cousin of vaudeville, but Legs reminded us there are always exceptions to that rule.
Gemma Stone, on the other hand, is the polar opposite of "elegant" -- and God (or Satan, or Johnny Rotten) bless her for it. All you need to know about Gemma is that her three favorite movies are TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE, Jenna Jameson's straight-to-DVD ZOMBIE STRIPPERS, and FASTER, PUSSYCAT! KILL! KILL! -- all three of which came into play over the course of the evening.
Even before the show started, she was entertaining the crowd as one of the more literal of A.P.E.'s "stage kittens" (go-go dancers-
cum-stagehands), and I dare say T. S. Eliot's
Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats, had it dared to include Gemma, would have joined
The Story of O in the banned-books category.
But wait -- you ain't seen
nothin' yet. Once the actual show began, Gemma hit the stage for her very own tribute to Tobe Hooper's splatterama: bloody smock, red heels and lingerie, and a glitter-encrusted cardboard chainsaw, set to an unholy medley of "Deep in the Heart of Texas" and the Misfits' JFK-in-Dallas classic "Bullet" (which is only one of the Best. Songs. Evah!). Texas twang meets New Jersey punk rock meets drive-in classic -- in a country 'n' western bar, no less. (The irony just writes itself.)
So how the hell do you top that? With the Godfather of Punk Rock, that's how. Cranking up the Stooge's "Search and Destroy," Stone proceeded to get in touch -- literally! -- with her inner Iggy Pop. And if you know ANYTHING about "the world's forgotten boy," it should come as no surprise that
a jar of peanut butter came into play.
(In an email to the author, A.P.E. founder/producer Lucida Sans wrote "Gemma is rather insane and brilliant; that girl has no idea how hugely badass she is." Oh, word word
word.)
Insanity of a different flavor (no pun intended!) was the domain of one Ginger Snap. "Good girl gone bad?" Rhianna, you don't know the half of it. How about we start with the nerdy, goody-two-shoes schoolgirl who -- after her Valentine's Day gift is spurned -- sheds her glasses and old school tie and gets in touch with her inner Clockwork Orange droog?
But that was chump change compared to the followup, in which Ginger's Virgin Mary has some rather...uh..."forceful" opinions about birthing the Son of God.
I dare say there won't be too many Catholic parishes booking this for the Christmas Pageant. And for those wondering: no, that is not sacramental wine she's hosing herself down with.
(Prior to the venue opening, I was chatting up Miss Absinthe, a junior member of the troupe, and she'd warned me that Alpha Psi's skits weren't particularly "plastic fetus friendly." To which I retorted, in my best Sawyer-from-LOST drawl, "Darlin', I saw Alice Cooper in concert not too long ago, and he was running doll babies through with a friggin' sword. Didn't faze me then, won't faze me now.")
And let's not forget the aforementioned Ms. Sans, who let a smile (and not much else) be her umbrella, and offered up a classic "seven veils" bellydance -- despite a gold lace bra which decided that "wardrobe malfunction" should be a way of life...
In our next installment: social satire, feminist commentary, overcoming body issues, and more gender bending than a Ru-Paul world tour. You'd be a fool NOT to return!
(In the meanwhile, you can peruse the entire Alpha Psi Ecdysia gallery here.)
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