Chatting With the Mx. Nobody V Finalists (Part 2)
Brooklyn's most outré drag competition concludes on July 10th! We're catching up with the winners of the prelims to see what's in store for the Grand Finale
Hugh Mann Race (left), Jay Kay (right)
Interview by Eric Shorey, photos by Jessye Herrell
The Mx. Nobody Pageant began the way that most good art does — as a kind of joke. In 2016, the idea of me, Ariel Italic, and Lady Bearica Andrews running a self-deprecating anti-beauty contest — in which competitors battled to be the next most-ignored nightlife star on the scene — was absolutely hilarious to us as a counterpoint to the glammed up, hyper-corporate beauty of RuPaul’s Drag Race.
Since then, the Mx. Nobody Pageant has evolved into something else entirely. Equal parts earnest, parodic, transgressive, and wholesome — the event has become a showcase of the grotesque, the bizarre, the unthinkable, and the poignantly poetic. Acts have ranged from drag queens extracting raw meat from their nether-regions, to carefully constructed burlesque strip teases, to the unfiltered, chaotic emotions of a public coming out.
This year’s Mx. Nobody Pageant — returning to the scene after a multi-year hiatus due to the pandemic — has evolved into something even more strange as a new generation of club kids, drag performers, and assorted nightlife miscreants battle for the cardboard crown and $500 from Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab.
In anticipation of the upcoming finale on July 10th, we’re chatting with the champions of each week of the preliminary rounds to get a better sense of the artistry and meaning behind their winning performances.
Hugh Mann Race
JUDGEMENT: Tell us about the number you competed with at Mx Nobody.
Hugh Mann Race: So, I was listening to Meat Loaf, the way that I do quite a lot. I was listening to the song, “You Took The Words Right Out Of My Mouth,” and I had the thought that this number would be great to do as a mime! So I came out to that beautiful Ratatouille theme and it transitioned to the Meat Loaf song, and [I’m playing] a happy little mime. But over the course of the number I realize, oh no, I’m not a happy little mime, I’ve been cursed! To be a mime! Forever!
The number is really about the horror of realizing this: I rip my shirt open and I’ve got all these scars on my chest, and there’s blood, and I’m screaming — mime-screaming, I guess — and it ends with the music fading out and me being cursed to silence forever.
Was there a message or meaning to it or was it kind of a silly idea? It obviously works either way! Were you trying to say something with it?
A lot of my numbers are about combining of humor and horror. I think those two things are so linked to each other. So a lot of my numbers start out humorous and then it turns into something terrifying. I think a lot about the terrifying nature of being a person: the risk of betrayal that comes with every relationship. I think about how scary and how beautiful that is.
Tell us about the Hugh Mann Race character.
I’m really inspired by sci-fi and the way that science fiction can be used to examine and critique society. That was the basis for creating Hugh as a character. And then the idea of him: he’s an alien who wants to be human so badly because the best things about humans are what he sees in the media. The big emotions. The drama. The excitement of it. He’s somebody who is trying to explore all that in disguise as a person — but he doesn’t quite get it.
You know how people who are really into anime go to Japan? And then they’re, like, surprised how Japan really is? That’s Hugh, but about Earth.
Maybe this is a reach but that sort of sounds like a metaphor for queerness or transness. Looking around you, seeing how all these people act, trying to imitate it, but never quite getting it right.
That’s so much of what growing up queer felt like, to me at least. I didn’t realize I was trans for a very long time. I was like, “Why doesn’t my experience fit in?” I was always the outsider trying to fit in, but I could never replicate what I was looking at.
The character works so well on both levels: just the goofiness of him but also on a more deeper, emotional level.
Yeah, well I’m glad it comes across!
Does your drag have a guiding philosophy?
The thing that I’m constantly getting at and trying to convey is like: How do we cope with the general horror of living, of being in this world? We’re always confronted with these scary, terrifying moments — how do we deal with it? Do we deal with it through humor? Do we give in? Do we give up? In all of my numbers that’s what I’m trying to explore.
You said that sci-fi is a major influence, are there specific writers who you take inspiration from?
I really love Anne Leckie, who did the Ancillary Justice series. I’m thinking of Arkady Martine, who did A Memory Called Empire. I know that N.K. Jemisin is in the liminal space between fantasy and sci fi, but anything that N.K. Jemisin is like, oh my god!
Who are your biggest drag influences? Who has influenced your drag the most?
Honestly, I’ve been so lucky to meet interesting and creative people who have supported me through drag. Truly, The Cake Boys have supported me. They deserve every shout out in the world. I would not be doing drag without them. I’m so deeply inspired by the way they create spaces for [drag] kings and [drag] things and they really put that at the forefront of everything that they do.
I’m also very deeply inspired by my good friend [and Mx. Nobody V Wild Card pick!] Lucky Pierre, someone who just shows up, does it — it’s always a really funny and impactful performance.
And I gotta say: [fellow Mx. Nobody Finalist] Esther! Whatever Esther is selling, I’m buying. I love the high concept thing. I love the biochemical algorithm thing! Love it!
I find that the people who you are closest with, the people in the community, that’s so much more inspiring to me than people who like exist on a bigger platform, who are more theoretical or far away.
This past year has really felt like a breaking point for drag kings, who are demanding to be booked and paid on an equal level with drag queens. Can you talk a little bit about that?
I so deeply remember when I first wanted to start drag, I sat on wanting to do drag for like a full year because I couldn’t find spaces that I wanted to perform in my king persona. Every open stage was looking for queens. And that certainly wasn’t me. And it wasn’t until I found The Cake Boys that I was able to perform. And now that I’m performing more, you can really see the disparity in the bookings. Kings are getting tip spots, we’re not getting booking fees. We’re showing up to open stages just because we love performing, not because people are paying us in the same way.
It’s really disheartening to see a scene that is in so many ways is built around rebellion and inclusivity — it feels like people are still going out of the way to not book drag kings. There’s so many of us, it shouldn’t be hard to throw a couple of us on your lineup.
Why do you think this is happening? What’s the reasoning behind the discrimination, do you think?
This one’s tough. I think it can live at the intersection of misogyny and transphobia. I don’t know if it’s always an intentional thing. I think we all have internal biases that we have to grapple with and work to unlearn. It doesn’t matter who you are or what your position is: there are things we all have to unlearn.
To see people say, “Women performing as men is inherently boring.” That’s the thing you hear, that’s the discourse that goes around Twitter every 3 or 4 months, that drag kings are boring. It sucks.
That refrain, which I feel like I’ve also seen sort of exploding on Twitter — I mean, it’s insane. Where does that even come from? Like, the fuck?
Right? Like, are the only people who are making interesting performance art men who are dressed as women? It just is mind blowing that you’d exclude an entire subset of performers and genders — like, “Oh, they’re all boring. I’ve never seen a good one.” Well, you haven’t seen one cause we don’t get booked.
It’s fucking stupid, honestly. Like that’s just a stupid opinion that seems like it’s coming from people who don’t actually know what they’re talking about.
A lot of us know we’re already marginalized on stage, so a lot of us are just going to come out with even weirder shit. It’s not like we have to worry about getting booked cause that’s not happening either way. So we might as well make the art we actually want to make! We might as well make something interesting and exciting!
What do you think the future holds for drag kings?
I am hopeful! I think we’re at the stage where people are starting to purposefully make more spaces for drag kings. Right now it still feels a bit separated: some places book a lot of kings and things, other places really only book queens. But hopefully with this expansion — especially in Brooklyn — this expansion of drag kings and things, that we’ll see more of a bleed over, with more kings getting booked in those other spaces.
I’m sure you saw that Vice article about drag kings needing to be on Drag Race. Obviously it was exciting to see some of our local icons in that article, but I wonder what you think about that.
[Laughs] I have a couple thoughts and feelings about that! On the one hand, of course, yes, increased visibility is important. Giving drag kings a platform on something that is so widely watched and consumed, like Drag Race — I think that is really important.
On the other hand, I’m one of those people who does not care for Drag Race. It creates a mass version of what drag is and what drag should be.
So, like, we should be there because it is what constructs what people think of as drag. And also: I don’t think it should be what constructs what people think of as drag.
Jay Kay
JUDGEMENT: Tell us about your winning Mx. Nobody number.
Jay Kay: My number for [Round 1 of] Mx. Nobody was really an amalgamation of my own exhaustion and imposter syndrome — especially in drag, and especially doing drag in the world we currently live in. Cause we know there’s a lot of bullshit going on with the government, climate change, reproductive rights, the list goes on. I mean, Covid! How could I forget that big girl.
As a drag artist and as someone who is relatively new to doing drag on a regular basis, it’s hard to maintain motivation to do it and still feel like you’re doing anything that matters. So I just threw all of those feelings into some spoken word — I would wake up every morning for two weeks and I would record my initial thoughts on the day. How I was feeling. I picked some nuggets from that and mixed it with a song from a Black punk band that I adore, Magnolia Park. The song’s called “Singing,” and it’s about like, well, sometimes life is shit and you just gotta keep on going cause what else can you do?
Is taking diary entries or personal material and working it into your drag a regular part of your act?
That was actually something I had never done before. My drag is usually either stupid or manic and punk rock. Like, running around a stage. Doing something that was slow and more thought out — not even thought out, just thoughtful, that was something very new to me. And I’m glad I took the risk. I’m glad it worked.
What was it like for you to do something that emotional? You had me in tears. I’d imagine it was something different from just being stupid and silly.
Thank god my entire face was painted red because I was also crying towards the end of it. I was like, I better not be in this last lip sync cause my entire face is running.
Afterwards, it felt very very therapeutic. A lot of people there did not know who I am. It was nice to be able to have the freedom to open up and say, “Hey, I get fucking sick of doing this sometimes” — while simultaneously doing it. By the end of it, it felt really good. And I felt more motivated than I had in a while to continue doing drag and know that I can do other things and that I’m allowed to be vulnerable in that space.
Anyway, long story short, I cried and then I felt better.
The question at the center of the number was sort of like: Why are we all doing this, it’s so hard! And the conclusion really was: Actually, this is the only thing that really gives me meaning. Do you still feel that way?
I definitely still do. I’m a nihilist at heart. I know constantly that there’s only so much I can do within my small bubble of friends. I can speak about injustice until I’m blue in the face and I try to whenever I think it’s a good opportunity and a venue for change. But I also know I’m not working in the government. I’m not a billionaire. I struggle to pay my rent every month. I have to work my day job so I can’t be on the front lines every day trying to enact meaningful change. What I can do — what is in my skillset to do — is continue doing drag. Continue going to shows. Continue giving fellow queer people in our queer spaces something to laugh at, something to cry at. I know who I am. I wish I could be on the front lines fighting, throwing money at every mutual aid fund, but we’re all just trying to do our best so I think one of the most badass things any of us can do is just enjoy our lives and I think that’s enough of a statement in and of itself.
Can you tell me a little bit about the development of Jay Kay as a character or persona? Is that person separate from yourself outside of drag?
It’s crazy, I was just talking about this the other day. Well, let me not mince words here. We were talking shit about someone. We were discussing about what feels off about the drag that this person does — I’m not gunna name names. My friend was saying it’s because they just look like someone that put on makeup and wanted to dance on a stage. There’s not a character there. There’s not a creation.
It got me thinking, well, sometimes I feel like that. I don’t regularly wear wigs. I’m not padding. I’m not creating an illusion of femininity, I’m not creating the illusion of a different body. I am, fundamentally, just a person in makeup and a fun little outfit.
And then that got me thinking: Well, no, that’s not really true. Even though Jay Kay and my day job person are not really that different, I like the little demon clown gremlin that I’ve created. I think, if anything, Jay Kay has become an even more unhinged and a more uninhibited version of who I am all the time. Because I will also scream and babble throughout a bar — I like to yell and have a good time. I get weird looks when I do that as a normal person, and rightfully so. At least when I’m painted fully blue and wearing a gown or some vinyl knee high boots, people are like: Oh, this is drag. This is a character. And it allows me the freedom to just be a fucking monster.
Does Jay Kay the character have a backstory or an origin story?
As far as origin stories go: I took a trip to LA cause I was photographing Drag Con. I used to be a photographer. I was with my drag mother, Mini Horrorwitz — this was before she was my drag mother, she was just a friend at this point.
Mini took me to a show with Meatball and Pinche, and there was another performer there — Tito Soto. If you don’t know who Tito is: they throw on a rhinestone mask over their face, full beard, bald ass head, and a fun little outfit. They would perform, like, Queen and all these old school rock songs.
I was like, wait, this is so cool! That’s not a woman! And it doesn’t matter! Cause they’re still lip-syncing and putting on a show.
And I was still new to the drag world at this point. I was, like, 22. My concept of drag had come a lot from Drag Race, so my understanding of it was very narrow. When I saw Tito perform, I was like, “OK, I can do this! I don’t know how to do makeup but I can figure something out!”
So I started getting ready with Mini. My makeup was bad. Not a lick of foundation in sight. I would draw on some tears. Keep my full brows — which I now shave down for a reason. And she’d give me spots at her weekly show, Cakes, at Metro. And I would just thrash around, doing very bad lip syncs to Panic! At The Disco songs.
So that was kind of the birth. I just needed to see someone else doing something. I think that’s where a lot of drag artists get it. They see someone they respect and aspire to, and they say, “Wait, I can do that!”
Does your drag have a central philosophy or something you’re trying to communicate?
I just had to answer this question in a pageant! You would think I would have this locked in but I don’t!
I think what I want my drag to communicate — regardless of whether or not it actually does — is that nothing we’re doing is that serious. And that there are no fucking rules. There are no rules to your drag, there’s nothing you should do or have to do. (Unless you’re doing a competition or something, where there’s a clear guideline — but otherwise….) There’s no rules! If you wanna get on stage and kick a drum stand over, if you want to get on stage and vomit, you can do whatever you want! If one day, you’re feeling sad and you want to talk about your feelings: do it! If one day you want to do a mix that is just the greatest love songs collection infomercial straight through: Do it!
I think coming out of the Mx. Juneteenth Pageant, and it being a Pageant Pageant — it was a lot of fun to have people pull me aside and be like, you’re a fucking a rock star. ‘Cause I really don’t give a shit. I’m not gunna wear a sequined gown and an updo. I think, no matter what I’m doing, I want to remember that there are no rules. Being non-binary, and my drag being non-feminine (but not always being inherently masculine either) — I just want to remember that I can do whatever the fuck I want.
And this has been the Jay Kay platform. Vote Jay Kay 2024.
Wait, so you just competed in a Pageant with a capital P? What was that like?
Oh, it was so much fun. I got invited to do it, and I saw the rest of the cast — there were like 3 people who did Pageant Drag. But also like, Paris L’Hommie was doing it — she does really good grungy, punk, but still pretty and feminine drag. So there was a nice blend of all of that. And then there was me!
We were doing the Q&A and I was listening backstage and there was a lot of, like, “Hello, esteemed panel of judges…” type stuff. Like still trying to be poised. You better believe I walked out and was like, “Hi fuckers!!!”
But I had fun! The other judges who were like, Honey Davenport and two very Pageant queens, they came up to me after and were like, “I’ve never seen anyone do it like you do. We see it. We appreciate it. You would have placed higher if you just cleaned up certain things.” And I will absolutely take that! You sat there and let me call you fuckers and scored me 4th! I’m not mad at it.
It’s cool to see the more traditional girls who would have, maybe a few years ago, been opposed to the more punk rock drag — I feel like they’re increasingly with the idea that newer generation is not about the same rules that they were about.
Right! I think it’s really cool that there’s a place to appreciate all kinds of drag. I love pageant drag. I love a good bitch with a backup dancer, a sequined body suit, hitting a 2-step into a dip. I love it!
But I also love Isaac Miss Isaac putting on a whole Powerpoint about how she just put this together ten seconds ago.
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Tickets to the Mx Nobody V Grand Finale on 7/10 at TV Eye are available now.