38 minute read
COMMUNITY
from APRIL 2022
Love Remains
Kindred celebrates 100 years in Montrose.
By NEIL ELLIS ORTS
One hundred years ago, the Hyde Park community in Montrose was on the edge of Houston. That’s where Rev. John T. Gillison developed Grace Lutheran Church in 1922. Church members met for the first two decades on the corner of Westheimer and Waugh—most recently the site of Hay Market restaurant (whose building was formerly the longtime home of the lesbian bar Chances).
In 2016, Grace went through a reorganization and name change, and it’s now known as Kindred. It remains a congregation of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA) and proudly counts those first 94 years in Montrose as an important part of its history.
Elders and Ancestors
Now located at the corner of Waugh and Missouri Street, just blocks from their original site, the stone building that Kindred now occupies was built in 1949 when Rev. Nathaniel Kern pastored the growing Lutheran congregation. Church members persevered through the changes that many mainline congregations saw in the last century, having their heyday in the 1950s and 1960s and then regrouping as people moved to the suburbs. Along with those changes at Grace was the transformation of Montrose into the “gayborhood” of Houston.
As religious queer folk started attending Grace, attitudes about homosexuality changed among the membership. Rev. Kris Franke Hill (Grace’s pastor from 1991 to 2000) believes that transformation began when Rev. Harold Deal became the pastor in the late 1970s. He arrived at Grace with typically stereotyped beliefs about queer folk, but his eyes were opened when several members started coming out to him. As his understanding changed, he became more supportive of LGBTQ issues. Every pastor
PHOTOGRAPHY BY ALEX ROSA FOR OUTSMART Rev. Dellagiacoma
since that time has been a reliable advocate of Houston’s queer community.
Rev. Ashley Dellagiacoma, pastor of Kindred since the name change, tells the story of a woman who visited them a few years ago. She introduced herself as the daughter of Rev. Kern from the 1950s. Rev. Dellagiacoma told her about the LGBTQ outreach work that Kindred was doing in the neighborhood, particularly their work with homeless youth and queerrights advocacy. “She said her dad would be so happy to hear about the vibrant justice-oriented things we are doing,” Rev. Dellagiacoma recalls. “As organizations grow, you always wonder if who you are is who your elders and ancestors imagined you would become. To hear that affirmation was a beautiful moment.”
‘Reconciling in Christ’ Congregations
American church denominations all have their “code words” to identify their LGBTQaffirming congregations. ELCA Lutherans refer to “Reconciling in Christ” (or RIC) congregations, which are supported by the national Reconciling Works organization. That program offers resources and guidance to any ELCA congregation that commits to extending a public welcome to the queer community.
Grace became an RIC congregation while Rev. Franke Hill was the pastor, but she is quick to note that the work started with the two pastors who preceded her. When she arrived, there were already several LGBTQ members who were out in the congregation, even though it wasn’t much discussed. It was Karen O’Maila, the music director at the time, who first suggested that Grace should become an RIC congre➝gation, and Rev. Franke Hill agreed it was
good idea. After they carefully approached different groups in the congregation to explain what the RIC designation would mean, voting to approve the designation was not a terribly controversial decision. “Becoming ‘Reconciling in Christ’ was just putting a name on who Grace already was,” Rev. Franke Hill notes.
Also under Rev. Franke Hill, Grace held its first same-sex union blessing in the days before same-sex marriages were legal. After a member couple requested it, church leaders again talked to different groups in the congregation to build a consensus that it was the right thing to do. It was also done under the radar of the bishop’s office. “I thought it was better to ask for forgiveness than for permission,” Rev. Franke Hill admits. A month after the wedding, the bishop found out about it and had questions, but he ultimately did not bring any disciplinary action against the congregation.
That spirit of “ecclesiastical disobedience” came to the forefront again when in 2008 Grace called Rev. Lura Groen, who identified as queer. At the time, the ELCA did not allow for the ordination of openly queer pastors, and Grace was in danger of losing its affiliation with the denomination. (The ELCA eventually allowed for the ordination of queer pastors following decisions made at their 2009 Churchwide Assembly.) Rev. Groen remembers that particular moment in this way: “Grace was so bold and so clear that if rules were unjust, they didn’t have to follow them. If the right pastor for them was not a pastor that was acceptable to the ELCA for the particular reason of queerness, then they were still going to call the right pastor.”
Montrose Grace Place
Before calling Rev. Groen, the congregation had already started talking about developing a focused ministry that would lead to more direct engagement with their Montrose neighborhood. Barbara Carroll was on the Mission Discernment Team at the time, and the conversation kept circling around the homeless. She felt a particular connection to that outreach work since she had been homeless as a 16-year-old, and had spent time as a resident of Covenant House.
This was the first step in establishing Montrose Grace Place (MGP), an independent nonprofit organization that is still housed at Kindred.
With the arrival of Rev. Groen, the work continued with intentional conversations with community leaders as they tried to bring a tighter focus to their ministry. Both Rev. Groen and Carroll cite a meeting with Eva Thibaudeau, who at the time was with the Coalition for the Homeless. “We asked her if there was a group of people who were falling through the cracks,” Carroll remembers. “She said, ‘As a matter of fact, there is a group; it’s homeless LGBT youth.’”
After finding their focus, however, there was still work to be done. “Then there was a feeling that was so strong that they were ready to throw open the doors and order pizza the next week,” Rev. Groen recalls. “And I was the one who said, Whoa, if we’re going to do this, let’s do it right. Churches do this wrong all the time.” They took another year of study and conversations with neighborhood and community leaders. “I think that has a lot to do with the success of Montrose Grace Place,” Rev. Groen continues. “It meant the neighborhood really felt like we were taking things seriously and we had responded to what we had heard [from them], and they were invited into the process of creating it.”
Kinnon Falk is a current member of Kindred and serves on the MGP board. He talks excitedly about new projects under the MGP banner. In the next few months, they will begin a culinary training program for the youth. “We had a connection to food. Kindred is a dinner church. Grace Place has a connection with the family meals they serve. Montrose is a restaurant-dense neighborhood, so it seems like a good fit,” Falk says.
This program will focus on training with and for higher-end restaurants. The hope is that the work would be seen by the youth as a possible career, and not just a fast-food gig. They will also launch a food trailer and café within Kindred. MGP has received a grant to help fund this new social enterprise. Money will be available for a part-time case manager who will serve the youth by linking them to such things as housing, child care, and health care.
It’s not just youth whose lives are changed by MGP. Carroll says the establishment of MGP redirected her own life. She was working in the banking industry and not feeling it was right for her. One night, after an evening with the MGP kids, she felt a different fulfillment. She eventually quit her job, went back to school, and is now a licensed clinical social worker specializing in work with adolescents and their families.
A Place of Welcome
When Grace became Kindred, it was more than a name change. They restructured their worship by meeting on Sunday evenings rather than in the mornings. They removed all the pews from the nave, and they now gather around tables for dinner as part of their liturgy.
The thing that has remained, however, is the effort to provide a radical welcome to all people.
Falk and his wife came to Grace just before its transition to Kindred, after having been in Houston for a year without finding a church that felt right to them. They loved the socialjustice emphasis, especially among the local queer community that they had always felt strongly about. He says, “It’s an incredibly unique community that, to me, feels warm and loving and inviting.”
Carroll echoes the sentiment. “It’s a holy place, it’s a healing place,” she says. “It’s a place that just absolutely enveloped me during a time in my life when I needed it.”
A neighbor to Kindred, known to the congregation as Kris Hyde Park, participates in programs and has sometimes led them. “I love that the homeless are so welcome,” he says. “For the church to just welcome them in is amazing. They get arrested and fined if they take a leak on the street, but no one will open their door so they can use the restroom.”
When asked about the church’s current demographics, Rev. Dellagiacoma says “We’ve got young professionals and folks who just got their housing vouchers and folks who are retired and folks who are drag queens at the local bar.” She laughs and concludes, “It is a great smorgasbord of humanity.”
Kindred will host an online celebration of its 100th anniversary on April 24 at 4:00 p.m. For registration and a link for sharing memories, visit the Facebook event page at facebook.com/events/534899324589995.
Bunnies Is Back
Div Kumar and DJ Dan Slater preview Bunnies on the Bayou 43.
By JENNY BLOCK
After almost three years, Bunnies on the Bayou is finally back in full force at downtown Houston’s Sesquicentennial Park on April 17, with national entertainers DJ Tracy Young and DJ Dan Slater headlining this year’s event.
“We are back, bigger and better!” says Bunnies president Div Kumar. “The community is ready to get back to a sense of normalcy. Our beneficiaries, many of whom depend on the funding they receive from Bunnies, are also ready for us to be back.”
The local LGBTQ nonprofit was founded in 1979 to raise and distribute funds to other queer organizations. Every Easter Sunday, the group hosts its main fundraising event—Bunnies on the Bayou, the largest cocktail party in Texas. “Bunnies on the Bayou started as a party in someone’s garage to help COURTESY gather soup cans during the height of the HIV pandemic,” Kumar says. “That was in 1979. In 2019, the last time we were able to have Bunnies, we raised and donated $175,000 back to the community. We sure have come a long way.”
In the last 10 years alone, Bunnies has raised more than $1.5 million to assist local nonprofits—groups that provide critical healthcare services, support life-changing educational opportunities, and engage in community-outreach programs.
DJ Tracy Young
DJ Tracy Young—a producer, remixer, and composer, is the first woman and the first lesbian to be nominated and win the Grammy for Best Remixed Recording. She has “officially remixed” for over 100 artists, including 14 remixes exclusively for Madonna. She’s also had over 60 #1 hits on the U.S. Billboard Dance Club Chart since 2000. She is now living in Miami and does weekly residencies at Liquid, Club Space, Mansion Nightclub, and Cameo.
Young’s remix work for Madonna was instrumental in advancing her career in the mid-’90s. Madonna and Young’s most notable collaboration is the anthemic “I Rise,” which won a GRAMMY in 2020. Last year, the Recording Academy announced Young’s second nomination in the same category for “Constant Craving” with k.d. lang.
DJ Dan Slater
DJ Dan Slater is an Australian DJ and producer from Sydney who is currently based in Miami. While he was a student in Australia, he learned to DJ in Sydney at the DJ Warehouse. “After many setbacks and rejections, being persistent paid off and here I am in the U.S., DJing at some of the most incredibly special events around the world.”
Slater has always had a special connection with Houston, so when he was asked to perform at Bunnies, he said yes without hesitation. “Bunnies is very important be-Div Kumar
PHOTOGRAPHY BY DALTON DEHART
cause it brings the community together and raises funds and promotes awareness of human rights in the Houston LGBT community. It makes me feel good to be part of such a great cause.”
A Volunteer Effort
The charity funding provided by Bunnies on the Bayou would not be possible without its devoted member volunteers. Kumar’s volunteer journey with Bunnies on the Bayou began when he moved to Houston from D.C. in 2016 and started looking for ways to get to know the local community. He is currently a manager in data and analytics for a Houston-based Fortune 200 company.
“I attended a host-recruitment event and found that the mission and goals of Bunnies on the Bayou really resonated with me. We are a diverse group of individuals who are truly passionate about helping causes that impact the LGBTQIA+ community. We have been actively trying to grow the organization by expanding our brand all over the state, and even nationally. Many of our attendees visit from neighboring states,” Kumar notes.
His volunteer work has also allowed him to gain new skills, positive experiences, and meaningful connections. “It has DJ Dan Slater
helped me improve my sense of purpose and personal accomplishment.” Kumar says his organization is aware that this year’s event will reflect the “new normal” of a world still dealing with COVID. “Our event will be held outdoors and, although not required, we strongly encourage our attendees to be vaccinated. We will follow all local guidelines to ensure the safety of our attendees.” But the Bunnies organizers are happy to make the necessary accommodations, because coming back is imperative. Why? Well, “queer joy” is a big factor for Kumar. “I grew up not being comfortable in my own skin, in a culture that still doesn’t accept homosexuality. It was hard for me to just take pride and joy in who I was. Organizations and events like Bunnies helped me discover that inner joy, and I’ve learned to be proud and live my life my own way.”
As for the future of Bunnies, Kumar hopes it will become “a model organization for other LGBTQ nonprofits all over the country, so that they can continue to support the organizations that need our help.”
What: Bunnies on the Bayou When: Sunday, April 17, 1:00–6:00 p.m. Where: Sesquicentennial Park at the Wortham Theater Center
Tickets (general admission and VIP):
bunniesonthebayou.org
To volunteer, visit bunniesonthebayou. org/volunteer/. Individual Sponsorships are available for the Garden area.
Unleashing Bronco
Orville Peck talks his vulnerable sophomore album before bringing the new tunes to Houston.
By ZACH McKENZIE Photo by JULIA JOHNSON
Standing in front of bright stage lights in a dive bar filled with drunkards and despondent cowgirls (including queer comedienne Margaret Cho), Orville Peck sings “I don’t want you to be afraid / Let me see you cry” to a tattooed, teary-eyed cowboy. This scene from “C’mon Baby, Cry,” the first music video from Peck’s new album, Bronco, lays the foundation for the rest of the collection. It’s a celebration of Peck’s evolution as an artist, his embrace of personal and musical vulnerability, and his strength in moving on from the past and onto the metaphorical glitter-filled dance floor—much like the literal one in the final scenes of the video.
Ready to unleash Bronco and take his show on the road, the multi-talented artist will be stopping in Houston on May 10 to perform at White Oak Music Hall. He can’t wait to return to the Lone Star State, and reveals that he’s particularly excited to make a stop in Houston. “Last time I was in Texas, we had an after-party on some weird satellite tower—it felt very Friday Night Lights!” he laughs. “We were on some weird water tower or something and I can’t remember how we even got there, but it was very fun.”
Peck notes that Houston’s unique Gulf Coast location is what makes it so appealing to him. “The thing I love about Texas is that every region is so different. I love Houston because it’s swampy and it feels like Louisiana vibes. I love Houston, and I just think it has a very unique vibe that the rest of Texas definitely doesn’t have. It feels like its own place.”
Reminiscing about his previous works, he refers back to his 2019 debut album. “Pony was kind of a frightened confession, I suppose. I was still very nervous and trying to be vulnerable, when I had never been vulnerable in the art I made.” The singer, who dons intricate face masks with long tassels that veil much of his face when in public, explains how his 2020 EP, Show Pony, was another step toward gaining the self-confidence he’d sought for so long. “I built on my confidence with that album, but I was still nervous and worried what people would think at that point. I had built a fan base, so there were lots of expectations for that album.”
The release of his latest project coincides with a release of his artistic anxieties and hesitations. “With Bronco, I didn’t care what people thought of it. It was incredibly cathartic for me to write it at the time I wrote it.” Listing country legends such as Merle Haggard and Dolly Parton among his musical influences, it’s no wonder Peck followed their lead, dropped all of his defenses, and submitted to letting his heart lead his creative process. “I wrote from a place of total vulnerability, with no pretense or worry about what it should sound like or how it would be received.”
Bronco is being released in three chapters, leading up to when the entire album drops on April 8. Peck hints at his latest musical inspirations throughout the album, expertly walking a fine line and not devolving into what the artist refers to as “wedding-band throwback music.”
“Musically, my inspiration was ’60s and ’70s country and rock, like California country, and psychedelia music like The Mamas & The Papas and Jefferson Airplane,” the masked singer says. “I was listening to a lot of Beach Boys and exotica-tiki music. I like to take inspiration and evolve it to my own sound.”
The artist, who collaborated with country icon Shania Twain on 2020’s “Legends Never Die,” is twostepping into new territory with the creative direction of his music videos. “I do all of them with my good friend Austin Peters,” he says. “I have a very specific vision with everything I do, and I have my hands in all areas of it. With my previous albums, I worked with different directors and people. [The aesthetic was very much me], but I would hand over the [creative] reins to other people, because I thought that’s what I had to do and I wasn’t as secure in taking charge.”
Finding the right creative collaborator was key for Peck, who had five music videos for his new album in the can at the time of this interview. “I wanted to work with a director I get along with, who understands the project creatively and can collaborate with me. It’s been a beautiful thing working with Austin because we work so well together that we are finishing each other’s sentences!”
Being categorized within a genre that doesn’t necessarily scream “gay rights,” Peck explains that his sexuality was never a deterrent in his quest for country-music stardom. “I would love to say it was a difficult journey, but it truly wasn’t. I have always been out, I’ve always been myself. I played in bands before this project, and as a working musician and actor I’ve always been openly gay,” the artist explains. “My only agenda with this project was that I challenged myself to make really authentic art, because I’m not someone who is easily truly vulnerable and able to show the most embarrassing parts of myself. I think that rings true for gay people, because I think we carry a lot of shame.”
Peck deduces that his process as a songwriter, combined with his foray into a newfound emotional openness, turned out to be a match made in heaven. “To me, writing about men goes hand-in-hand with being vulnerable and authentic. I didn’t think I was flipping a script, I just thought that opening up about my sadness and disappointment in love [would challenge me to be] vulnerable. Of course, now I recognize how important the impact of [being a gay country singer] is, and I take on the responsibility proudly and happily.”
The deep-voiced crooner anticipates this tour will be a mixed bag of emotions. “I will always love [my previous albums], so we will probably play a lot of those songs. It’s the first time in over three years that we’re playing a lot of new music, and I’m so excited. The songs are so incredibly personal to me that I can’t wait to play them live,” he says. “I’ll probably get pretty emotional when I play them, because a lot of the songs hit close to home. It’s been about a year since I recorded the album, and I get really emotional performing them. I feel like I’ll get choked up a lot.” ➝
—Orville Peck
Along with some brand-new tunes, fans can also look forward to seeing a different physical side of Peck. “The whole spirit of Bronco is about me breaking free from a lot of negative things in my personal life, like depression, anxiety, and certain relationships. I felt like it was time for the look [of my masks] to also evolve slightly, because I believe in evolving as an artist.” The artist breaks out in boisterous laughter as he recalls the initial fan response to the new look of his masks. “[My team and I] were all laughing because my new masks reveal my ears, and we were joking that it was like I was doing Victorian-era porn. It was so salacious to people online that I would dare to show my ears!”
His entire touring team is more like a chosen family for Peck—a concept many queer folks are familiar with. These tightknit relationships come in handy when the rhinestone cowboy finds himself on long trips away from home. “My band and my crew are all so close. We are a big family of best friends and spend a lot of time with each other. We love to do things in the towns we are in together. We like to drink beer and laugh. It’s a lot like summer camp. I just try to kill time by being super-present and off my phone.” The gift of Bronco is one that Peck is excited to share with his fans. Just as he pleads with the character in the “C’mon Baby, Cry” music video to emotionally free himself and cry, Peck hopes his new album will allow listeners to embrace any emotions they might be harboring as well. “I would’ve never said this before this album, but I hope people feel inspired to open up and be themselves, show themselves, and be proud of themselves, for better or worse. I think I try to really expose myself on this album. At some points it even feels mortifying, to an extent. But that’s an important place to go to in the pursuit of authenticity, which is my main focus in my personal and musical life. I want people to be inspired and embarrassed with me.”
What: Orville Peck’s Bronco Tour When: 7 p.m. on May 10 Where: White Oak
Music Hall, 2915 N Main St.
Tickets:
whiteoakmusichall.com
Houston’s First Black LGBTQ Music Festival
Founder Ian L. Haddock previews the April 30 event.
By LILLIAN HOANG | Photo by PISCES 310
A groundbreaking new music festival is coming to Houston this month. Black Queer+ Advancement Music Festival—the first of its kind in Space City—takes place at Stampede Houston on April 30 from 3 to 7 p.m. Organized by The Normal Anomaly Initiative (TNA), the event features a full lineup of Black entertainers as well as the launch of 14 local Black businesses.
“As a Black, queer-led nonprofit, we are committed to providing authentic and safe spaces for our community to not only celebrate, but also to contribute to the culture,” says TNA founder and executive director Ian L. Haddock, adding that his organization’s festival will “bring together communities, creatives, corporations, and changemakers from Houston and beyond to engage in conversations and connections that will further empower our Black-queer-plus ecosystem.”
Haddock expects around 2,000 people to attend the festival, which is half of Stampede’s maximum occupancy limit. TNA will follow the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention’s COVID-19 safety guidelines by checking temperatures at the venue’s entrance and recommending that attendees get vaccinated before the event. The organization will also host a COVID-19 prevention town hall on the day before the event.
Kicked off by local drag performer Porsche Paris, the Black Queer+ Advancement Music Festival will be hosted by several local and national entertainers, including Krystal Smith, a local woman of trans experience and entertainer; Khaos Talks, a vlogger from New York City; and Brandon Sanders, a promoter from Miami.
The event’s musical acts include local and regional entertainers such as ShaunWes, Tré Ward, Vockah Redu, and Sissy Nobby, and national entertainers such as SevnDeep, Durand Bernarr, and Dawn Richard from Danity Kane.
The 14 businesses that will appear at the event are a part of TNA’s Project Liberate, a six-month program designed to help Black entrepreneurs learn how to develop and launch their businesses.
At the start of the festival, attendees will get to take part in different attractions on the first floor, including a mechanical bull, axe throwing, pool tables, and more. They can also interact with several immersive installations by Project Liberate participants.
While the organization and the festival focus on the needs of Black queer folk, Haddock wanted to make sure all are included and welcomed at the event. “I’ve been waiting for a moment that was created by us and for us, but didn’t exclude anybody,” he adds. TNA will give free tickets to the festival to anyone who joins TNA’s biweekly sex-ed classes. The event will provide HIV testing sites, PrEP referrals, Lyft codes to anyone who does not want to drive, and more. Due to grants and fundraisers, TNA will also be able to host the Black Queer+ Advancement Music Festival in 2023 and 2024. Haddock says the event is important because it is “a party with a purpose” and pays homage to Houston’s
LGBTQ history.
“The first gay Pride week here in Houston in the ’70s was full of events. Some were celebratory, and some were the start of political movements. We endeavor to merge those two worlds—celebration and advancement,” Haddock concludes.
What: Black Queer+ Advancement Music Festival When: April 30, 3–7 p.m. Where: Stampede Houston, 11925-B Eastex Fwy. Tickets: normalanomaly.org/BQAF $25–$75 (use code “Presale” for $10 off)
Black Queer+ Advancement Music Festival is sponsored by ViiV Healthcare accelerate Initiative, Gilead COMPASS Initiative, Impulse Group Houston, COVID-19 Prevention Network, Legacy Community Health, AIDS Foundation Houston, and OutSmart Magazine.
Performing with Purpose
Sevndeep is intentional with his sex-positive artistry.
By DAVID ODYSSEY
For the generation that watched music videos before the morning school bus and then raced home for afternoon TRL (Total Request Live), the dancing of Sevndeep feels like a welcome return to glory. Onstage, Sevn and his dancers whip it with the hard precision of Britney Spears, while his cavernous, seductive vocals evoke Ludacris and Lil’ Kim. “I like to think of my stage of coming out right now as what Kim would do,” Sevn explains when asked about his professed idol. “They wanted her to feel bad for her sexuality. When I was growing up, they didn’t want you to talk about queer sex, or queer anything. Now I do it as Kim would do it: This is me, take me for who I am, this is how it’s going to be.”
Outside of his music-video education, Sevn cultivated his talents in dance class while growing up in Virginia. “My dad signed me up when he knew I was going to be magical.” His music and videos now blend a vast array of influences, from Busta Rhymes to classic jazz choreography. “I added all the things I loved to my art, and I knew there’d be somebody that would connect with it.”
Sevn has kept his rigorous work ethic consistent as he pursues his craft in L.A., Atlanta, and now New York City. If his live performances are to be tight, his videos must be perfect. “Everyone wants to be an artist these days, and I don’t think they know what it is to put in the work. There’s not a lot of true intention behind what I see. I know, with what I do, there’s always intention: I’m doing this for a purpose
COURTESY
and a reason.” Videos like “Break My Back” are made with months of love, planning, and saving. “The money I would get for work, I’d invest. This isn’t my vacation money; I’m putting it into my creativity.”
With a consistent style and rigor behind all of his work, Sevn is now interested in expanding his audience. This spring, he was a standout on the OUT series Hot Haus, in which the reality-TV legend Tiffany Pollard gathered a crew of queer sex symbols together in one house. “I told myself that if I ever did reality TV it would be something positive that would push the conversation,” he says. “I wanted something that had a purpose. It’s about showing sex workers in a positive light.”
With his recent exposure from Hot Haus and new opportunities to meet audiences on the road at events like The Normal Anomaly’s Black Queer+ Advancement Music Festival, Sevn’s fiercest obstacles are his own high standards. “I don’t want to be ‘the next’ anyone. I’m the first and last Sevn. No one can do what I do, and the only person I want to be competing with is myself. That’ll be the most challenging thing.”
Keep up with Sevndeep on Instagram @officialsevndeep.
Unbounded Artist
Durand Bernarr doesn’t let labels limit his identity or his music.
By DAVID ODYSSEY Photo by LAQUANN DAWSON
For most of his life, Durand Bernarr had been too entrenched in his musical identity to put any thought into his sexual definition. “For the longest, I’ve just been me,” Bernarr says. “I wasn’t trying to hide anything. Other people had their own interpretation of who I was. I didn’t know until I heard other people call me these things.”
Tiny, wiry, and possessing the bombastic energy of a Ren & Stimpy character, Bernarr stands out. And once the camera is filming, whether for TikTok or the BET reality series The Next Big Thing, it’s on as this young virtuoso slides between vocal registers and genres within seconds. In Bernarr’s view, there’s no need to label the indelible.
Describing himself as “everybody’s favorite cousin,” Bernarr grew up in a family and community centered on one thing: music. His mother taught piano and voice, and led worship at their church in Cleveland. His father engineered sound for Earth, Wind & Fire, along with Jay Z, Jill Scott, Whitney Houston, and other legends. Bernarr has been tinkering with music since he was ten (by “pressing Record on the cassette tape”) and performing live since he was 16. He struck out on his own when he released a 2009 compilation on YouTube featuring vivid interpretations of Amy Winehouse, Kanye West, and other pop icons.
In 2010, Bernarr released an EP of Erykah Badu covers, and was soon welcomed to join her tour as a vocalist—a gig that’s still delivering. Since his casting on 2019’s Next Best Thing and his debut album DUR& in 2020, Bernarr has claimed his own distinctive voice, displaying not only vocal grace but a comedian’s deftness at making fun of himself. “I take a comedic approach, because there are certain vocal things that tickle me, so I know that’s going to translate to other people. And because I’ve been carving out my lane and [the ways that] I’m inspired, I’ve been seeing other people test that out.” Observing men of all gender definitions playing with their vocal registers has been a particular delight for Bernarr.
As his audience has developed, and as he participates in festivals like The Normal Anomaly’s Black Queer+ Advancement Music Festival and D.C.’s Honey Groove, he’s come to understand the meaning of claiming queerness. “I’ve been myself from the jump,” he notes, “but there are others that need to say ‘This is what I am.’ They want to represent for what it is they believe in. The word queer is a broad enough umbrella [term that I can] be a part of. [It’s] not confining me to just one thing.”
Bernarr promises a set in Houston that will “clear your skin and lower your cholesterol.” This far into a heavy pandemic, he’s pursuing an upbeat sound as he cuts his new album and tours around the country all summer. “I want to move, I want to dance; I don’t want to create sad, vibey music. I need something else.”
Keep up with Durand Bernarr on Instagram @durandbernarr.
Meaningful Mixes
DJ Rocabye unites listeners through her versatile tracks.
By RYAN M. LEACH
DJ Rocabye will be opening and closing The Normal Anomaly’s Black Queer+ Advancement Music Festival with her popular mixes and mash-ups that are sure to get the vibe right.
Rocabye, 47, says she is known for her mixes that combine different styles of music in unexpected and exciting ways.
“I am known for my versatile style and my mixing. I can take an R&B song and mix it with a pop song. Or a country song and mix it with hip hop. So basically I can play to audiences of all types,” she says.
Originally from Indianapolis, Rocabye always had a love for music. Luckily, she made an early connection with a local radio DJ who helped show her the ropes. She has been spinning since 2005, and moved to Houston in 2011.
“What I love about what I do is connecting people to music. I like introducing them to new songs, and with my mixes I can also bring back old songs that remind people of a time in their lives they may have forgotten about. Music has the ability to bring different cultures of people together in a way that nothing else can,” she emphasizes. Because her music can elevate some of the happiest days in people’s lives, she has found a great deal of success DJing on the wedding circuit.
DJ Rocabye doesn’t spin in clubs as much anymore, but she is the resident DJ for The Normal Anomaly and is excited to be providing music throughout their upcoming festival. Her goal is to elevate the experience for all festival attendees. This Black Queer AF Music Festival is the first of its kind in Houston, and DJ Rocabye promises to make it special.
Keep up with DJ Rocabye on Facebook at facebook.com/djrocabye1.
Lesbian Love in Three Acts
Robin Reagler debuts her latest collection of poetry.
By ANDREW EDMONSON
“A poem is a vehicle that takes you on a journey. It can take you anywhere, into anything, into language itself.” —Robin Reagler
For some, the COVID-19 pandemic created only chaos and confusion. For others, it revealed what was essential—with stark clarity.
For Houston writer Robin Reagler, it spurred the realization that she must leave her position as executive director of the highly regarded nonprofit Writers In The Schools (WITS) and devote herself single-mindedly to creating poetry.
For 22 years, she had helped WITS come to national prominence. Then in 2018, she took on another leadership role as the board of trustees chair for the Association of Writers & Writing Programs (AWP). Her work at WITS had been rewarding, but all-consuming. With the death of her parents and the realization that she was moving closer to the milestone of her 60th birthday, she recognized the need to focus more intently on her art.
The last two years have yielded two volumes of highly personal, deeply moving poetry, rich with powerful imagery and redolent with feeling.
In the spring of 2021, Reagler, 59, released Into The The, her first book-length collection of poetry. It was praised by queer Pulitzer Prize-winning poet Jericho Brown and won the Best Book Award from U.K.-based Backlash Press. “Reagler’s poetry shows us how language is a playground, high ground, and common ground for communicating what is most important about our human condition,” observed Gretchen Heffernan, publisher of Backlash Press.
Her second volume of poetry, Night Is This Anyway (Lilly Press), debuted at the end of March, arriving just in time for this month’s observance of National Poetry Month. A press release describes the book as “a play of lesbian love in three acts.” Acclaimed Houston artist Rachel Hecker created an abstract image entitled Burn for the book’s cover. Calling the writing “gorgeous” and “fierce,” poet Meredith Stricker observed, “Night Is This Anyway spills over with ‘an ocean of music.’ The forcefield throughout these poems is Eros—the strange attractors of planets, people, and story in ‘erotic communication.’” “The book is chronological in a certain way,” Reagler says. “The first act is really about a kind of euphoria of discovering my sexuality that comes at the beginning. It’s followed by a period in which it is very difficult, which was my experience. You hear people say, ‘You don’t come out once. You have to come out every day of your life.’ Just because you figure out
you’re queer doesn’t make being in a relationship any easier. Being in a relationship is work—truly a labor of love.
“The third part is the more joyous, harmonious part of being in love that happens later in life.”
Reagler opens with an epigraph from the book Tender Buttons by the great lesbian novelist and poet Gertrude Stein: “In the morning there is meaning, in the evening there is feeling.” The works range in tone from playful to rueful to erotic. In the poem Queer Theory, she humorously evokes two lesbian lovers being pursued by Godzilla— an apt metaphor for an era in which LGBTQ people and relationships seem increasingly under attack.
Reagler was born in 1962, the oldest child in the only Jewish family in Wynne, Arkansas, a small town in the Bible Belt. Growing up in the 1970s, she felt like an outsider. “I had no role model, as far as I knew, in terms of gay or lesbian or anything,” she recalls. “There was so much repression in the whole community.”
A turning point came at age 13 when she was given a journal by her mother, which spurred the first steps of creative selfexpression through language—a passion that has come to define her life. “My mother didn’t really know what was up with me,” Reagler admits, “but she thought that if I could write about it, it would make things better.”
“I was drawn to certain things without knowing why,” she adds. “As I was getting dressed in my bedroom as a teenager, my mom was watching The Today Show a couple of rooms down in the house. I heard the voice of Jodie Foster, and I ran out to see. ‘Who is that?’ I was so interested in her, but I didn’t know why. Gertrude Stein was another one. I was so interested in her. I didn’t really have a sense of why until later in my life.”
At age 20, she came out while completing her MFA at the University of Iowa’s famed Iowa Writers’ Workshop. “In a world of writers, it would be a lot more embarrassing to say something homophobic than to say, ‘I’m queer,’” she observes wryly. “Lots of writers are gay, so [coming out] was almost nothing.”
In the mid-1980s, she moved to New York City and began teaching high school.
“I remember going to the ACT UP protests, and I remember police wearing rubber gloves,” she states. “Some of those protests were scary. I can remember taking the bus several times from New York to D.C. to see the AIDS Quilt.
“I feel like protest was a big part of my life. It’s a way of being American, and saying what you want to say. The protest gets on TV or in the news, and it’s at the heart of being an American citizen,” she notes. “Even when our children were little, we started taking them to protests when they were babies. We took them to the Women’s March. It’s a critical form of and had many friends who were queer, we didn’t know people who’d had babies.”
She and Chamberlain connected with a lesbian couple in Pasadena who had had children, invited them over to dinner, and introduced them to their son. “And they told us about everything that they did, and that’s how we found out how to [create a family]. I wanted to have a blog so that people who were interested in having a family would read it and say, ‘We can do this, too.’ The blog brought to us a world of women who were interested in starting families and having children.”
In 2009, Nickelodeon selected it as the best Houston parenting blog. “It was a great experience,” she says of the period in which she maintained the blog. “There are still people today who get in touch.”
Now, with her 16- and 18-year-old children, Reagler lives in the Heights, co-parents with Chamberlain, and shops around her third book of poetry to potential publishers. She has also begun teaching at Houston Community College.
“It’s a very new adventure, and I’ve enjoyed it,” she says of her new HCC gig. “I love my students and I love the teaching. I’m at Northline, and years ago I taught at a middle school in that area. My students are earnest and serious, and want to do big things with their lives. I feel grateful to be a small part of it.
“The experience that people my age had as teenagers is very different from what I see young people today going through. Many young people today wonder: ‘What is my sexuality?’ They move through something fluid, and it can even change.
“For me, I didn’t feel that there were any choices in terms of sexuality. There was a tunnel that I was hurtling through, and I didn’t feel like anyone was there with me. I’m glad that things have changed, and that young people have the opportunity to discover who they are. “I don’t think [today’s youth] can understand the secrecy surrounding sexuality] that I experienced as a young person.
“The ‘night’ part of the title of my book Night Is This Anyway is about the kind of carefulness [surrounding] my sexuality that was lived at night. I didn’t go around holding hands with women 30 years ago. I would have been scared.
“It’s good to remember where we came from and where we started. It’s good to celebrate the good things.”
Lesbian Desire By Robin Reagler
My old mouth, my new mouth They both want to meet her And although she might expel Words filled with philosophy There would be otherables Of this I am quite sure I am talking about an economy Of erotic communication I am Talking about an unforgiveable Attraction, the double helix Made up of women entwined With bodies more naked each Night I am talking more than should The landscape is thrumming I am music Somebody has spilled sugar on The sidewalk where a new day Begins by lunching on sunrise And I (he/she/they) dictate A love letter to a woman A beautiful woman who reads Constantly who longs for love secretly Who pretends not to know I’m here
self-expression in our country.”
She moved to Houston in 1990 to complete a PhD in the University of Houston’s acclaimed Creative Writing Program. She expected to stay long enough to complete her degree and move on, but she ultimately ended up building a life and a family in Houston.
In the mid-2000s, with her then-wife Marcia Chamberlain, she created the blog The Other Mother: Letters from the Outpost of Lesbian Parenting. “The process of deciding to have a family and have children was very isolating,” she says. “Even though we lived in a huge city For more on Night Is This Anyway, visit amazon.com