Confessions from the Velvet Ropes

2020: My year in jet-setting photos. By Glenn Belverio

The Rumor Mill: Did Ben Shields and Glenn Belverio really get lost for hours in Kinderdijk?

 

Dear Former Frequent Flyers,

Jet-setting, you say? Whaaat? Well, before the extent of the pandemic was officially acknowledged in the U.S. in March, I flew to the Netherlands in late January, and then Chicago in mid-February. I haven't been on a plane since, but I have such joyful memories from those two trips (plus a bonus train trip to Hudson in September) which, frankly, feel only like a dream now.

In late January, I flew to the design-y city of Rotterdam to attend their International Film Festival. The backstory: In 2019, my distributor in Chicago, Video Data Bank, digitized and preserved most of the episodes of my drag queen activist TV series from the '90s, The Brenda and Glennda Show and Glennda and Friends.

As a way of introducing our partnership to the film festival world, they edited my 1991 video Seize Control of the Taj Mahal to 14 minutes and submitted it for a program of work called "Bright Future," which consisted of previously un-screened shorts that were now represented by various distributors. What a thrill to have Glennda, Brenda and friends back on the big screen again! My friend Ben Shields flew over from Tel Aviv (or was it Jerusalem?) to attend the screening and enjoy the city of Rotterdam and its environs with me. 

"In this episode of The Brenda and Glennda Show, Brenda and Glennda lead a group of drag queens on a trip to Donald Trump’s Taj Mahal Hotel & Casino in Atlantic City. Intended to be a drag queen gambling getaway, the trip turns into a moment of protest."—IFFR

To view full screen, follow this link:

Seize Control of the Taj Mahal - excerpt from a 1991 episode of The Brenda and Glennda Show from Glenn Belverio on Vimeo.

 

KINO was one of the many screening venues at the festival and was where my video and the other shorts in Bright Future were shown—to a packed house!

My step-and-repeat moment in KINO's lobby. Photo: Ben Shields

I'm happy to report that Seize Control of the Taj Mahal was received very well, with peels of laughter and a hearty round of applause. It was lovely to meet some fans of the work in KINO's rather convivial bar after the screening. Another memorable work shown was a short film by Jack Smith, Song for Rent from 1969. It was also a lovely surprise to meet some fine folks from my other distributor, LUX in London.

 

Before the screening, Ben and I wandered around the city center. I can't quite remember where we are here....it was an eerily deserted mid-century modern office lobby, I think. We felt like we were in an Antonioni film. We met up with Video Data Bank's Distribution Manager, Zach Vanes, who took this photo.

Zach introduced and explained my Glennda video archives to the audience at KINO, including the one being screened: "This video from 1991 was filmed at a casino in Atlantic City owned by someone you may have heard of...[dramatic pause]...Donald Trump!"

 

Because we're fans of Brutalism, Ben and I also made a point of visiting de Bijenkorf, Marcel Breuer's cement honeycomb department store from 1957 which I dubbed "a Brutalist Bloomingdale's."





And of course, no visit to Rotterdam is complete without a gawk at this lovable buttplug-lovin' fellow: Paul McCarthy's Santa Clause (2001) on the Eendrachtsplein. I'm pretty sure the beignet kiosk, commandeered by a Mrs. Claus doppelgänger, was erected here as a sly addition to the artwork.

 

After our triumphant screening at KINO, Zach took me and Ben out to dinner at this Chinese restaurant I chose, which opened in 1963. I think it's terribly important to have a favorite Chinese restaurant in every European city one frequents, where the ambiance is more important than the food. For me, it's also that place in Paris's 5th arrondissment, where François Mitterand dined every evening (name escapes me but Diane Pernet introduced me to it) and also the celebrated Hang Zhou da Sonia in Rome, which features a Mao Room and is owned by former Gucci model Sonia, who appears in Abel Ferrara's documentary Piazza Vittorio.

 

We were not quite camera-ready, but this is the only photo I have of Zach from the trip. Our waiter, who I think was the owner, was very campy and entertaining.

I lingered in Rotterdam for about eight days total, and bunked down at the marvelous Citizen M Hotel, which is right next to the controversial Cube Houses.

No, Kinderdijk is not the name of a new lesbian dating app for cougar bulldaggers on the hunt for baby dykes...it's a tranquil area of marshlands punctuated by picturesque windmills that Ben and I visited. Well, you can't get any more "Holland" than this!

After a Koffee break, Ben and I made our way back to the ferry station so we could attend a dinner party at his host's home in Rotterdam...well, at least we thought we are heading back. Who gets lost in two straight paths of windmills? Ben and I, that's who. At one point, we passed a warehouse that had hundreds of jumbo wheels of Gouda cheese stacked up in front of it and I was like, I don't remember seeing that on our way here!

And then before we knew it, we were wandering around a quiet little village of low houses, each one with a pair of wooden shoes on its doormat. When we saw a teenager actually walking around wearing a pair of wooden shoes, we knew we were a far way off from the city. Eventually we made our way to some dock where we had to practically beg a salty old captain to take us on his ferry boat back to the city ("Well, it is getting rather late—almost dinner time!" he said as he glanced at his watch.) He was ready to leave us there with no way other way to get back!

 

After a wonderful dinner of boerenkool stamppot at the home of Ben's charming host, the writer and editor Matthew Stadler, I hopped into a cab and headed to WORM, the festival's event venue, to attend a party and catch up with Zach from VDB and some peeps from LUX. I had a long, lovely chat with Hong Kong animation filmmaker Wong Ping, who had work screened in the festival. Immediately after he left the party, he boarded a plane and headed to Sundance. Supernova!

 

The next day, Ben and I took a subway to the charming, canal-lined town of Delft. Most people visit Delft for its famous Delftware, but we had another agenda....

Delft is where Werner Herzog filmed his 1979 remake of Nosferatu. At once creepy and campy, his version sees the pale, chrome-domed vampire stowing away on a ship from Transylvania to the unnamed city of Delft. Much of the action takes place in the main square, Markt, including plague sufferers enjoying an outdoor dining experience with thousands of rats. Sounds like a typical 2020 dinner in the East Village! Pictured here is the spooky and imposing Nieuwe Kerk (New Church).

 

On the opposite end of the square is Stadhuis (Delft Town Hall) which is the backdrop for the moment when Nosferatu schleps his coffin across the square in the dead of night. Chills!

 

Another reason to visit Delft, of course, is to shop for wooden shoes. Here's Ben contemplating a lovely, lemony pair. Are wooden shoes easy to walk in? Let's go to the clip and find out:

 

After Ben went back to Israel, I spent some time seeing films at the festival. A highlight was the screening of Beth B's documentary about Lydia Lunch, The War Is Never Over. I've been a Lydia Lunch fan since the mid-'80s (her duet with Thurston Moore on "Death Valley '69" really sends me) and not long ago, I met her through my friend Bibbe Hansen, when the two of them were doing a Fluxus performance at HOWL! in the East Village.

After the screening, Lydia and Beth took questions from the audience. When my turn came, I told Lydia that an essay she had written about the Me Too movement was sent to me by my friend and collaborator, the guerrilla scholar and feminist Camille Paglia. Lydia's face lit up at the mention of Camille's name. "Tell Camille I would love to speak at her university!" I told Lydia that Camille was a fan of hers and Lydia was amazed that Camille knew who she was.

Camille and Lydia are both from upstate New York (Camille from Syracuse, Lydia from Rochester). "It’s interesting to think of Lydia Lunch and me as members of a feisty, nonconformist upstate cohort!" Camille told me.

 

Rotterdam lacks the annoying crowds of weed-huffing students one finds in Amsterdam. Modern and subtle, Rotterdam is full of delightful surprises.

I checked out a strange installation at Het Nieuwe Institut. I think it was a representation of an imaginary religion.

If you're a design aficionado, a visit to the Sonneveld House is mandatory. One of the best-preserved houses in the Dutch Functionalist style, this painfully stylish villa was designed in 1933 by architecture firm Brinkman and Van der Vlugt for Albertus Sonneveld, a director of the Van Nelle Factory. The architects designed a total concept in which architecture, interior and furnishings are perfectly coordinated and reinforce one another. 

I was absolutely over the moon for this divine staircase.

The dining room, with Bauhaus-influenced furniture, and a view of the spacious living room.

 

"Sonneveld House now contains various examples of Dutch design from the 1920s and 1930s that were not originally in the house. These objects, in particular glass items, have been added because they fit with the style of the house and the family’s taste. This chartreuse, pressed-glass service is one of the first examples of modernist industrial design in the Netherlands.

This service was originally designed for Glasfabriek Leerdam by architect H.P. Berlage (1856-1934). In 1924 it was adapted for mass production by Piet Zwart (1885-1977), who was then working in Berlage’s practice. The service proved difficult to produce in the desired material – graniver – a newly developed opaque form of glass with a granular structure."

Unfussy and spare, like the rest of the house's furniture, this vanity is in the master bedroom.

 

The Sonneveld House is currently closed because of the pandemic, but if you visit their site you can take a virtual tour.

My last night in Rotterdam: Enjoying a genever (Dutch gin) Negroni in the lobby of my terrific hotel, Citizen M, while waiting for my friend, the chic and mysterious Ilanga van Throo to arrive from Amsterdam. We dined at Kaat Mossel, on the port near Rotterdam's Yacht Club, famous for their extremely fresh mussels. An artist friend of Ilanga's joined us and we had a wonderful dinner with fascinating conversation and were so engaged, we didn't think to get any photos of ourselves. We're old-school, dolls!

(Unfortunately, I just read on Kaat Mossel's site that they had a devastating fire a few weeks after we dined there, but sounds like they've risen from the ashes and rebuilt.)

On my way to Delfshaven, I visited the Russiche Orthodoxe Kerk Rotterdam.

A moody afternoon in Delfshaven.

 

In February, when the pandemic still felt like just a rumor from China, I flew to snowy, sub-zero Chicago for a rather exciting life moment: the official launch of my newly digitized video archives by my distributor Video Data Bank!

 

To introduce my work from the 1990s to new audiences, VDB organized two events: an exhibition of their artists that included two of my videos, staged in the Sullivan Galleries at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, and an artist talk in the galleries.

 

Looking maybe a little too serious here, but I greatly enjoyed speaking to the audience of SAIC students, local artists, professors, academics and curators about my drag activist series The Brenda and Glennda Show (1990–1992) and Glennda and Friends (1993–1996). I showed and discussed clips from Takeover of the Empire State Building (1990), Gender Cruise on the Circle Line (1991) and On the Campaign Trail with Joan Jett Blakk (1992). Abina Manning, the Executive Director of Video Data Bank, gave me an amazing introduction and talked about how we met in London in 1996, when she curated my retrospective at the Institute of Contemporary Art.

(When I showed the photos from my lecture to Camille Paglia, she had this to say: "You look really European in those photos!!!—the discreet black ensemble and intellectual glasses as you coolly contemplate the flamboyant Glennda! You could be in an Antonioni movie!!")

Glennda Orgasm and Joan Jett Blakk.

Even though it was 20 below zero out, people showed up—it was a packed house! (Big thanks to David Getsy for urging students via the SAIC website to attend the lecture.)

There were some great questions for the audience at the end of the talk. I was really impressed when one student asked about the stapled condom piece in the queer 'zine I co-edited in the early '90s, Pussy Grazer. They did their research!

When I arrived in Chicago, I visited VDB's headquarters and Tom Colley, Archive and Collection Manager, in the room where the magic happens: This is where Tom digitized my video archives! I am eternally grateful to VDB for transferring all those videos!

After years of languishing in my closet and at the office of Stevin Michels, co-producer/editor of The Brenda and Glennda Show/Glennda and Friends, my 3/4" tapes are now carefully preserved and stored in the archives at VDB.

 

On the night before my lecture, we attended the opening of We Don't Want Your MTV, the exhibition curated by VDB at the Sullivan Galleries. My 1991 video Seize Control of the Taj Mahal was projected onto a large screen. Attack of the 50-Foot Glennda!

"We Don’t Want Your MTV combines video installation and a specially curated screening program to consider the influence of television on a generation of artists who came of age during the legendary TV station’s reign."

Artists in the show included Jenny Holzer, Sadie Benning, Miranda July, Sterling Ruby, Martine Syms and others.

Reunited! Abina Manning and I had not seen each other since 1996! What a delight to spend time with her again during my days in Chicago.

The exhibition also included my 1996 collaboration with Vaginal Davis, One Man Ladies.

"In One Man Ladies, Glennda Orgasm is joined by Vaginal Davis as they meet women on the streets of New York City to discuss Laura Schlessinger's book Ten Stupid Things Women Do to Mess Up Their Lives. The pair humorously explore the best ways modern women can find and secure a husband."

A still from the video. Camille Paglia remarked, "Looks like a procession of European royalty!"

As luck would have it, my friend the fashion scholar Ellen Sampson was also in town giving a lecture. (I think it was at the same time as mine!) She stopped by the opening and we gossiped while nibbling on Chicago-style hot dogs.

What a huge treat to be able to visit the Chicago Art Institute and take in their important collection! I had never seen this Georgia O'Keeffe.

And of course I nearly fainted when I feasted my eyes on this painting by Ivan Albright from one of my favorite films of all time, the 1945 adaptation of The Picture of Dorian Gray!

My hotel was one block away from this Bauhaus beauty: Mies van der Rohe's post office (1964).

 

And I was across the street from Art Deco landmark the Field Building (now Bank of America Building). It's open the public, so I did a little tour through the lobby...

In September, there was a relatively bright, if brief, moment during the pandemic when cases were much lower in New York State. A few counties had resumed indoor dining and NYC was no longer the epicenter. The weather was lovely during Labor Day Weekend, so took a train up to the laid-back, artsy town of Hudson to visit friends and to check out the Hudson Eye art festival.

I spent quality time with fashion legend Lauren Ezersky. One morning, we met up with Lauren's friends Julius James and the artist Tschabala Self for brunch at my hotel, the splendid Rivertown Lodge. Lauren and I really loved the frozen Negronis—they packed a punch!

Moi in "vacation mode" Agnès B. Hawaiian shirt, artist Tschabala Self, Lauren Ezersky and Julius James.

Poolside laughter: We visited Teresa, one of my colleagues from MoMA Design Store, at her beautifully decorated house for Rosé by the pool.

My friend Bibbe Hansen—Warhol Superstar, Fluxus artist, mom of pop star Beck—had a big presence at the Hudson Eye arts festival. She invited Lauren and I to the cavernous Second Ward art space (very conducive to social distancing) to hear her read her essay "How I Met Andy Warhol," project her Warhol screen tests, and answer questions and tell more stories (I asked her to relate the story of the film she made with Edie Sedgwick, Prison (1965). My feverish description from my Instagram:

'Last night we were treated to a special evening with my pal @bibbe.hansen who read from her roller-coaster of an essay (in her 14-yr-old former self’s voice) “How I Met Andy Warhol” which involved copious amounts of LSD, speed, a spaghetti orgy, her dad, the Fluxus artist Al Hansen, sending her to prison for 6 months and Bibbe’s fortuitous introduction to Andy Warhol (via Al) at Stark’s restaurant on the Upper East Side which resulted in 2 Warhol screen tests for Bibbe (screened last night) and a role in Warhol’s PRISON, co-starring Edie Sedgwick. There is also an exhibition of Bibbe and her dad’s work, organized by @newdiscretions.'

Bibbe signed posters and books afterwards.

One of her works in the exhibition.

Breakfast with Bibbe and her husband Sean Carrillo is always a tradition when I visit Hudson. We went to this very classic diner in a town near Hudson.

My adorable room at the Rivertown Lodge. My stay here was absolutely perfect. Highly recommended!

Lauren and I visited Art Omi, the outdoor sculpture park.

I loved my post-apocalyptic pandemic porch swing.

David Shrigley engraved his shopping list on a cement obelisk.

After Omi, Lauren I had a traditional end-of-summer lunch at Red Barn. It was the last day for fresh lobster! The lobster was heavenly but the real star was the mashed potatoes....they wouldn't tell me what the secret ingredient was.

Pink gin and social distancing. The Maker is an uber-posh hotel in Hudson (the room rates are astronomical) and they have have a very fancy cocktail bar. Lauren and I met her friend Julius there on my last day in Hudson.

Thank you for taking this virtual trip with me....here's hoping we can meet in Rome or Rio or Havana or Hong Kong in 2021.

Love,

Glenn Belverio

 

2019: My year in jet-setting photos. By Glenn Belverio

New gold dream: Fondazione Prada in Milan

 

Dear jet boys/jet girls,

From Italy to Great Britain, fashion weeks to exhibitions (with a few healthy dollops of holiday downtime), it was an eventful year of European travel.

In February, I was invited by the Italian Trade Commission to Milan to cover the MICAM shoe fair for A Shaded View on Fashion. Chinese designer Wang Ping sent his charming wife to represent the brand. I really liked her style!

 

I made the obligatory trip to Fondazione Prada which is located in a rather desolate area, replete with vast, dusty lots and melancholic, abandoned train tracks that provide an arresting juxtaposition to the various artworks. Indeed, the windows of the galleries in the Fondazione's tower are designed to make the landscape an important component of the exhibitions. Sure, Jeff Koons Tulips are quite lovely, but for certain viewers who have that seen-it-all jadedness associated with Koons’ work (that would be me via my exploits in NYC’s Soho art world of the ’90s), the lay of the land outside transformed my feelings about the piece into a totally new and satisfying experience. Take that, boring white gallery walls!

 

Milan's mysteries blossom at night.

 

After the shoe show folded, I made a beeline to Milan's majestic train station. Destination: Turin!

 

Referred to by some Italians disparagingly as "southern France" because of its far northwestern proximity and its decidedly un-Italian-ness, Turin is quiet, elegant and unbothered by tourists, especially in the winter.

 

Art Nouveau details abound in Turin.

 

I lodged at the splendid Hotel Victoria, centrally located. One evening while I was taking my aperitivo by the fireplace, this cozy cocktail den was invaded by gaggles of seriously chic ladies of a certain age, festooned in furs and leading their equally stylish canines on leashes through the lobby. They threw themselves on divans and overstuffed club chairs as they gossiped about their husbands and quaffed copious amounts of Moscato d’Asti.

I highly recommend this hotel. The affordable rooms are comfy, full of quirky character (mine had a golf theme), aperitivo is accompanied by a very generous array of freshly made complimentary canapes, and the breakfast, served in a bright, lemon-yellow room next to a garden, is indulgent. (Have the lemon cake—it goes with the decor.)

 

One of the reasons I made the jaunt to Turin was to once again commune with Lord Lucifer, who guards the Gates of Hell in the Piazza Statuto, which are located under a manhole cover (according to legend). This seriously sexy statue—who floats over a monument to the workers killed while building the Frejus rail tunnel linking Italy and France—was designed with the Sigil of Baphomet sprouting from his head. (This square is referred to as "the black heart of Turin," and indeed the city is a point in both urban triangles that represent the world centers of Black Magic and White Magic.)

Much to my dismay, the five-pointed star was missing from the statue's head. In a panic, I rushed into a nearby witchcraft store in search of an explanation. The proprietor, sighing with resignation, told me that the official story is the star fell from the statue during a storm. There should be a movement to have it replaced!

 

Diana the Huntress on a sport's store façade. Speaking of game, I was treated by my dear Turinese friend Barbara Papuzzi to a delicious, if unusual, dinner at Ristorante Consorzio, notorious for its experiments in all manner of offal. At one point, Barbara passed a bowl of spicy, ultra-velvety chunks of mystery meat to me which were quite delicious.

Our lesbianic waitperson hovered nearby, grinning broadly, and when I had finished every melt-in-your-mouth morsel, she approached the table and announced what I had just eaten: a cow's vagina! I rose to the occasion and fired back, "Well, this is the first time I've ever eaten pussy—and it was wonderful!"

 

Ristorante Consorzio in Turin

 

"Our lesbianic waitperson hovered nearby, grinning broadly, and when I had finished every melt-in-your-mouth morsel, she approached the table and announced what I had just eaten: a cow's vagina!"

 

All roads lead to Rome: After my Turinese idyll, I jetted down to the Città Eterna to visit friends.

 

As is my custom, I took a suite at the legendary Hotel Locarno.

I sprinted down to the Accademia di Costume e di Moda to visit my dear friend Adrien Yakimov Roberts (and his colleague Barbara) before he jetted off to a business trip in India.

 

My friend Alessio de' Navasques invited me to the opening of "Giardini Acquatici" by artist Giovanni Vetere (center in cobalt corduroy pantsuit) at The Orange Garden Gallery. Lupo Lanzara from the Accademia is on the right.

 

After the opening, Alessio and Clara Tosi Pamphili took me on an adventure at the Piazza Vittorio. Despite all my visits to Rome, I had never been to this area that's famous for its immigrant populations, and that was documented most excellently in Abel Ferrara's film Piazza Vittorio. We strolled through this arcade next to the piazza—unusual for Rome but common in Turin—and I was mad for the old tiles.

 

As in many multi-ethnic and working-class neighborhoods around the world, hipsters have swooped in, taken advantage of the lower rents and opened trendy bars and restaurants. Here's me and Alessio at one housed in what used to be either a haberdashery or jewelry shop (can't remember which) in the 1920s.

 

After drinks we had Chinese food at a place I've been dying to go to ever since I saw it featured in Abel's documentary, Hang Zhou da Sonia—and here's Sonia in action!

 

A glamorous Maoist and Gucci model, Sonia gave Abel's cameras a hair-raising, hilarious account, in Italian, of the time she was robbed at gunpoint in the restaurant. (The robber was Italian, not a migrant, btw.)

 

I loved the t-shirts of the waitstaff.

 

Turns out I'm not the only person in the world who has a Mao Room!

 

The Hotel Locarno is right behind the beautiful Piazza del Popolo.

 

Designer Hina John, a refugee from Pakistan, and A.I. co-curator Clara Tosi Pamphili.

In July, I was back in Rome again for AltaRoma fashion week. The highlight of the week was the summer edition of A.I. Artisanal Intelligence, "The Shape of the Water." Clara and Alessio de’ Navasques worked with Nation25, an open platform founded in 2015 by Elena Abbiatici, Sara Alberani and Caterina Pecchioli, to bring together a selection of immigrant-created designs.

During the two-day exhibition, we met migrants from African countries and Pakistan who have honed their skills to create beautiful clothing. Many of the migrants live in Italy’s detention camps (centered in Treviso) in the evening, while spending their days searching for fabrics in the Piazza Vittorio and designing clothes.

 

Journalist Rebecca Voight, designer Marianna Cimini and moi at AltaRoma's Showcase Roma.

 

Sylvio Giardina at his couture presentation MONOCROMO at Galleria 1/9unosunove arte contemporanea in the Palazzo Santacroce.

 

Moi, AltaRoma press agent Lavinia Caldani and Paulo Mariotti of Brazilian Vogue at Sylvio's presentation.

 

There was an al fresco sundowner each evening of AltaRoma, with guest DJs—and by far the best one was Enrico Palazzo!

 

After AltaRoma, I flew up to the northeastern city of Trieste, at the suggestion of my friend Anita Kravos, an actress who is originally from there. Peculiar and subtly beautiful, this seaport city is located between the Adriatic and Slovenia. Because of its Austrian history, the city has a Viennese vibe.

 

The headquarters of ITS, International Talent Support, is in Trieste, where they hold a yearly fashion competition every July. Rebecca Voight and I were invited for a private tour of their archives. This was a treat for me since I was not able to stay in Trieste for the event.

 

When visiting Trieste, a bus trip up the coastline to Miramare Castle is mandatory.

Built between 1856 and 1860 for Austrian Archduke Ferdinand Maximilian and his wife Charlotte of Belgium. Cursed and haunted, Miramare has a melancholy history—and bad things befell just about everyone who lived or stayed there. Jan Morris's excellent book Trieste and the Meaning of Nowhere is full of vivid tales about the castle. I read the book but seemed to have lost it (did I leave it on the plane?) but do remember a few fuzzy details of Maximilian's downward trajectory as related by the marvelous Morris.

 

As I remember it: Not long after Maximilian moved into this castle—which commands splendid views of the sea from just about every room—France offered him a gig as an Emperor in Mexico. (France was in the midst of colonizing Mexico to give Europe a toehold in the region.) He was hesitant at first, but realized he could do it for a few years and it would be something that looked good on his resume. Above is my photo of the marble-topped table, a gift from a pope, where Max signed the contract to accept the crown in Mexico. Also of note: when the castle was built, the windows were all tinted so that the sea's colors would appear more vivid.

So Max and Charlotte set sail for Mexico where they were crowned Emperor and Empress. Long story short, the French chickened out and withdrew their troops from Mexico not long after Max arrived. Max was captured by the Mexicans and executed immediately. Charlotte (now Empress Carlota of Mexico) fled back to Miramare Castle. Upon her arrival—I'm really improvising here, so correct me if you know the exact details—she discovered that their court had organized a giant cage of doves, awaiting the return of the Emperor and Empress as a token of their affection. Charlotte/Carlota opened the door of the cage and watched wistfully as the doves escaped and flew across the sea. She soon went mad and went back to Belgium where I think she committed suicide.

 

The sphinx and the sea.

 

I had a wonderful lunch of fish freshly caught from the Adriatic, near the castle.

 

My lunchtime view.

 

After Trieste, I returned to Rome and checked into the Villa Laetitia's Black & White Suite. Equipped with a kitchen, a spare bedroom, two bathrooms and a garden, this suite in the Fendi-owned hotel features a bed by Mies van der Rohe, and shelves, sconces and a writing desk by Ettore Sottsass.

 

After cocktails at the Hotel Locarno, Consuelo Aranyi and I went to one of our favorite trattorias (the name escapes me) where we had artichokes four ways: raw, steamed, sauteed and deep fried. Yum!

 

I was mad for this Brutalist apartment building near my hotel.

 

On another evening, I was blessed with the company of Adrien and Kamen Yakimov Roberts. They took me to Le Grotte, a pizza joint with an interior that looks like a Dean Martin movie on acid. We dined al fresco and I opted for a rather marvelous plate of pasta. And that wasn't the only dish that was served, if you catch my drift!

 

On my last day in Rome, I lunched with Samuel Beckett, and my close pal, screenplay writer and actor Rinaldo Rocco, at the prison-chic Fendi Hotel. Rinaldo is delightful company, so I barely noticed the sadistic experience of lunching here. First, we were roasted under Rome's merciless midday July sun as we waited, and waited, for a waitperson to appear from the seemingly deserted restaurant. After a few blistering moments, a blasé waitress sauntered out from seemingly nowhere—Waiting for Godot, waiting for the waitstaff—who didn't deign to open the roof's automated canopy until we begged her for mercy.

My entree, a mere wispy tangle of pasta small enough to fit inside a teaspoon, came with a Fendi price tag, and as soon as the plates were cleared, the impassive waitron cruelly retracted the canopy (vaguely citing a time constraint on roof access), leaving us once again exposed to the unrelenting Mediterranean sun. But as I mentioned, Rinaldo and I were so enjoying our conversation, I barely noticed any of these unpleasantries!

 

Rinaldo attempts a dialectical discussion with Signore Beckett.

 

After lunch, Rinaldo and I took a stroll around the charming Isola Tiberina, an island in the Tiber.

 

Fast-forward to September where I was once again in Vienna, covering MQ Vienna Fashion Week for A Shaded View on Fashion. I met up with my friend, the Austro-Egyptian editor and owner of Pashion Magazine, for dinner at the famed Zum Scharwzen Kameel, followed by cocktails in the Blue Room of the Hotel Sacher. Here we are afterwards in the Red Room. Redrum!

 

Fashion supernovas Elisabeth Muth and MQ Vienna Fashion Week co-founder Zigi Mueller-Matyas at the residence of the Thai Ambassador to Austria. We were invited there for a delicious Thai breakfast and a preview of collaborations between Thai and Austrian designers.

 

We loved the collab between Ek Thongprasert and Karin Oèbster of Kayiko.

 

Head games with Iris van Herpen at her Vienna boutique.

 

After Vienna, it was onto Bristol, UK to unchain unicorns and to attend the opening of Act 3 of Still I Rise: Feminisms, Gender, Resistance at the Arnolfini Centre for Contemporary Arts.

 

This groundbreaking feminist and queer art exhibition—previously staged in other iterations in Nottingham and Bexhill by Sea—featured two of my videos: Two Spirits Speak Out from 1992 (above) and Glennda and Camille Do Downtown (1993), my collaboration with Camille Paglia.

(If you missed this show in Bristol, you can catch Two Spirits Speak Out at the Museum of the City of New York, in the exhibition Urban Indian: Native New York Now, through March 8, 2020.)

 

Moi (center) with the Still I Rise curators—Cédric Fauq, Rosie Cooper and Irene Aristizábal—and Kieran Swann, Head of Programme at the Arnolfini.

 

Cute guy watching Glennda and Camille Do Downtown at the opening.

 

It was a thrill meeting punk feminist artist Rachael House, who was in from London for the opening.

 

Rachael's piece in the show celebrates punk icons Patti Smith, Ari Up and Poly Styrene.

 

My friends from the North, Mark & Mark Simpson, drove down to spend some quality time with me. We took a tour of Brunel's SS Great Britain.

 

First Class dining, 1850s style.

 

The two Marks and I also paid a visit to Bristol's breathtaking Suspension Bridge.

 

But perhaps the biggest thrill of all was discovering, quite by accident, this show-stopping Brutalist cathedral in Clifton, a serene, residential area of Bristol.

 

Designed by architect Ron Weeks, the Clifton Cathedral was completed in 1973.

 

After Mark&Mark returned to the North of England, I lied down on a grassy knoll in Castle Park, enjoying the last remnants of summer.

Thank you for taking this journey with me.

Love,

Glenn Belverio

My Saints Tree-Trimming Party, December 7, 2019. Photos by Drew Gardner. Text & additional photos by Glenn Belverio

Ellen Sampson & Alexis Romano

Photographer Catherine Talese, lesbian rock icon Carole Pope, Terry & writer Katie Degentesh as Saint Scholastica

Fashion designer Ela Erdogan, fashion icon Lauren Ezersky & your host, Glenn Belverio (wearing my John the Baptist tee)

Living saint Chay Costello, Swiss artist Nives Widauer & makeup artist Virna Smiraldi

Filmmaker Allison Berg & Catherine Talese

Filmmaker Allison Berg & Catherine Talese

 

Dear Saintly Sinners,

What do you get when you combine halos, Catholic accoutrements, a Biblical flood of prosecco, sacred and profane gossip, sanctified hors d'oeuvres, beautifully rendered ornaments and an international crowd par excellence (the most important ingredient)? Answer: a party far more interesting than the Met Gala for Heavenly Bodies—it's the latest edition of my annual tree-trimming bash!

The theme for this year's already-legendary fête, Saints, was chosen by my MoMA colleague Chay Costello. We collaborated on the dress code:

St. John the Baptist headless couture, sexy Saint Sebastian arrow accessories, Joan of Arc melting hearing aids, Buñuel surrealist saint and Jodorowsky Holy Mountain acid trips, Saint Nicholas and Krampus mud wrestling, Danny Kaye Saint Jude cocktail attire, nun looks a-go-go: Anita Ekberg killer nun, Sally Field flying nun, The Nuns punk-rock DIY ready-to-wear, Nina Hagen Nunsexmonkrock runway realness, Saint Dolly Parton real Christianity Opry glamour, Edna St. Vincent Millay boozy melees, Padre Pio stigmata realness, Saint Lucy eyeballs worn as earrings, brooches or pasties, Lili St. Cyr non-stop burlesque action, Vatican Swiss Guard uniforms for butch lesbians, reliquary zombie re-animations, 1980s S&M leather looks from The Saint club, halos, wings and harps for holier-than-thou attention whores, and Saint Teresa multiple spiritual orgasms.

Now, onto the party....

A mysterious flapper accompanied by her patron saints: writers and curators Ellen Sampson and Alexis Romano.

Chay Costello was inspired by the stigmata of Saint Padre Pio, a distant relative of hers.

Billy Miller of Straight to Hell fame.

Legendary East Village artists Peter Cramer and Jack Waters of Allied Productions and Naked Eye Cinema fame.

Louis Armstrong by Dana Schein

North West Kardashian by my MoMA colleague Miranda Lim. My prediction for the get-go has been that he will one day launch a fragrance called North by North West.

r

Virna Smiraldi's ornament was inspired by the Blood of the San Gennaro Miracle in Naples. On the feast day of San Gennaro, believers gather to pray and follow specific rituals, to bring about the miracle that is the liquefaction of the saint’s blood. The “miracle” of liquefaction takes place inside the Duomo, when the substance in the cruets dissolves into a vivid red liquid. The event is celebrated on the first Sunday of May, then again on the 19^th of September, and also in December.

Eerily, a few days after my party, Virna's ornament leapt from my tree and landed on the kitchen floor with a loud POP. The dark "blood" slowly spread across the shattered glass and glitter, forming a large viscous pool. It was very Dario Argento art direction.

A couture-clad Barbie with a Jesus brooch. Ornament by Kyle P. Wagner of the National Arts Club.

St. Elmo's Fire by my cousin Kathy Garrigan.

Saint Andy by Corey Sabourin.

My MoMA colleague Lisa Carr brought this owl ornament because "Glenn is wise." Aw, shucks!

Creator unknown. (Meaning, I can't remember!)

Another Saint Andy, this one by writer Janice Eidus and her husband John Kastan.

Creator unknown.

Two views of an ornament celebrating the 1960s TV series The Saint starring Roger Moore.

Another Roger Moore Saint ornament with a young Yves Saint Laurent on the flipside.

Ornament by Vienna-based Swiss artist Nives Widauer.

Two views of the Saint Catherine of Siena ornament created by my MoMA colleague Cathy Citarella. Yes, dolls, the severed, mummified head of St. Catherine is on public view at the Basilica San Domenico in Siena. I saw it with my own eyes during a day trip to Siena back in 2003, during a press trip in Tuscany which involved a multi-town tour of Chianti Classico vineyards, punctuated by a lavish dinner party at the 12th-century Castello di Brolio, to celebrate the 1000th anniversary of Brolio, land of the Ricasoli Barons.

"Next we are off to Castello di Cacchiano's wine tasting room that is housed in a former 18th-century prison," I wrote while living and working in Hong Kong as a guest editor for WestEast magazine. "As I noted the day-counting marks on the wall left behind by assorted criminals in 1781, we sampled Cacchiano's incomparable vin santo ('wine of Saints,' known also as 'wine for meditation'), a nectar so sublime that I would, if I could, bathe in it daily."

Creator unknown.

Which saint is this? "Whichever one you want to be," said this ornament's creator, fashion designer Ela Erdogan.

Creator unknown.

Another St. Elmo's Fire ornament, this one by Christy Nyiri. And now it's time for me to admit I have never seen St. Elmo's Fire—however, I did meet Judd Nelson (and Anthony Michael Hall) in the Michael Todd Room at Palladium in 1986.

Saint Elvis by Billy Miller.

That's gotta hurt! St. Loempius by painter Scott Neary.

Creator unknown.

More Catholic torture porn! Saint Agatha by Suzanne Batmanghelichi.

Santo Orgasm by Peter Cramer and Jack Waters.

Ornament by Alexis Romano. Apparently there's a pannettone inside there—I guess I better eat it soon before it descends into reliquary decrepitude!

Saint Nicholas Cage by MoMA colleague Nemtsov.

Saint Padre Pio by Chay Costello.

Creator unknown.

Another Saint Nicholas Cage ornament? How on earth does he get to be a saint? Snap out of it!

The following photos are by Drew Gardner (my official event photographer):

My MoMA colleague Audrey Gascho and Virna Smiraldi

Katie as Saint Scholastica looks on as Nives Widauer shows off her pussy tie.

Earth angels: Catherine Talese & Chay Costello

We are family: Carly Sommerstein chats with my paternal cousin Kathy Garrigan.

Terry telling tall tales to the gals.

It takes two: Rob & Chay

Saint Scholastica (Katie Degentesh) makes a beeline for the bar. I love the trompe l’oeil t-shirt!

We are living in the digital age (even if my apartment is a time warp of old New York…)

She’s into leather: Lauren Ezersky with Ela Erdogan.

Quaff, baby, quaff! Cathy celebrates the moment as Jack Kastan looks on.

The radiant Suzanne Batmanghelichi.

Moi delivering Saint Elvis to the tree.

As I am often happily marooned in the ’90s, I was a big fan of Allison’s Amanda de Cadenet look (remember that night she and Courtney Love went out in matching ensembles?)

Writers Corey Sabourin & Nancy Stout.

What is Christy Nyiri saying to Catherine Talese?! (We love Catherine’s pendant.)

Janice Eidus in a Warholian mood in my Mao Room.

Artist Dana Schein with graphic design guru Christy Nyiri.

Giddy-up, cowboy! Saul Arber & Catherine Talese.

Nancy having a rap session on my bed with painter Scott Neary.

Alexis Romano partaking in the holy sacrament that is my famed radis farcis au chèvre.

South American chanteuse Carlota Gurascier and her pal David.

Nives and Saul

Josh Casey of MoMA Design Store holds onto his makeshift crown.

Moi, Katie & Carlota

Alexis & Dana

Nives & Alenia

Katie & my MoMA colleague Lisa Carr

And a few more of my shots…

Chay's husband Rob channeled Saint Sebastian via Steve Martin's A Wild and Crazy Guy.

Glennda Orgasm archivist Stevin Michels and artist Dana Schein.

Alenia in—you guessed it—The Mao Room!

Josh Casey, king for a day? Almost!

The ever-ebullient Lisa Carr loved meeting Peter and Jack.

Found under my tree the next morning: an Eve Kitten Clock designed by Nancy Bacich!

Not sure who brought the beautiful Saint Ziggy candle...the Greek Orthodox icon of my favorite saint, John the Baptist, was picked up during my 2008 trip to a fashion week in Thessaloniki.

Merry Christmas,

Glenn Belverio

We have a signal...Glennda Orgasm videos are being digitized in London, Chicago & New York

Above: Are Fonda LaBruce (Bruce LaBruce’s drag persona) and Glennda Orgasm being re-animated in a mad scientist’s laboratory? (Spoiler alert: It’s actually Video Data Bank in Chicago.)

 

Glennda Orgasm is finally transitioning—from analog to digital! My friend Abina Manning, the Executive Director of Video Data Bank in Chicago, sent me these images of my video “Bad Grrl,” an episode of my 1990s TV series Glennda and Friends, being digitized in VDB’s video studio. Filmed in 1993, the video features filmmaker Bruce LaBruce (as Fonda LaBruce) and my drag persona Glennda Orgasm attending a Riot Grrrl conference at ABC No Rio on NYC’s Lower East Side. A real time capsule of girl punk rock power and the era’s grunge aesthetics.

In the above clip we’re interviewing video artist Sadie Benning, who during this time was known for her charmingly grainy Fisher Price camera videos. (She has of course moved on to more sophisticated media. I saw one of her videos at MUMOK in Vienna a few years ago.)

My work is also currently in the process of being digitized by my distributor in London, LUX. More details soon.

"One Man Ladies," co-starring Vaginal Davis resplendent in custom-made Rick Owens, is a 1996 episode of Glennda and Friends that's been recently digitized at Electronic Arts Intermix in NYC for my distributor in London, LUX.

Love,

Glenn Belverio

 

Johnny Rotten Talks Punk History at the "Too Fast to Live, Too Young to Die: Punk Graphics" Exhibition at the Museum of Arts & Design. Report by Glenn Belverio

 

On Monday afternoon I was invited to a special press event at The Museum of Arts and Design (MAD) for the recently opened Too Fast to Live, Too Young to Die: Punk Graphics, 1976–1986, an exhibition that explores the punk, new wave and post-punk movements through the lens of graphic design.

MAD invited "John Rotten Lydon" (nice name branding there, Johnny) to give some remarks and answer questions from the press (there was a panel discussion later in the day as well). Well, I'm sure you all saw the recent video of Johnny on a panel with Marky Ramone, Henry Rollins, Donita Sparks, et al at a screening for the new punk documentary, and all hell broke loose (especially between Johnny and Marky).

The scabs that seemed to have healed over the rifts between the NYC and British punk scenes were violently ripped open, old grudges were dragged out onto the stage like so many dead cats, and the contentious arguments regarding the origins and storyline of punk were flung through the air like 40 ouncers hurled onstage at a Pogues gig, or gobbers spit at a PiL concert (I was an eye witness to this at a very excellent Public Image Ltd. show in Allentown, PA in 1984).

At MAD, it was just Johnny alone asserting his positions (see the video I filmed, posted above) with no-one to contradict or correct him, but that's show business. I'm not going to pick a side in the NYC Punk vs. British Punk war, however it does seem like I've found my theme for my next tree-trimming party.

The exhibition, which takes up two floors of the museum, felt like a tour of my old, beloved record collection which I ended up selling for a pittance to the long-gone Adult Records on Avenue A in 1994 because I was six months behind on my rent and I needed the money. (I felt like Judas betraying Jesus for thirty pieces of silver, and I'm sure I spent that money on Glennda wigs and vodka instead of back rent.)

I took a bunch of snaps of some pieces in the show, posted below. The exhibition is up through August 18, 2019 and is well worth seeing. It includes rare concert  and documentary footage on big and small screens.

Love, Spit, Love,

Glenn Belverio

 

2018: My year in jet-setting photos. By Glenn Belverio

Yabba dabba doo! Moi at the Indian Canyons Hiking Trails in Palm Springs. Photo: Sameer Reddy

 

Dear jetsters,

Elsa Peretti said it best: "Travel is important for your mind." Art, architecture, nature, friends, fashion, food and the occasional dalliance—I had so many reasons to head to the airport in 2018. It began in the late winter with my return to relaxing Palm Springs.

 

For the first half of my trip, I stayed at my favorite hotel in Palm Springs, the Alcazar. Here, you won’t be bothered by cocktail waitrons or distracting raw-bar towers. Drinks are DIY from the petite lobby and the best breakfast spot in Palm Springs, Cheeky’s, is a 5-second walk away (the hotel owns it). Cheeky’s is the only place in the world where I will eat bacon, and once you’ve sampled the ever-changing bacon flight (Beeler’s apple cinnamon, anyone?), you’ll know why. After a beaker full of the red-purple lusciousness that is their blood-orange juice, you’ll stroll down North Palm Canyon Drive, throw your arms up to the Sun God while exclaiming “California!” and wonder why you continue your real life of stress and toxicity in New York City.

 

After an idyllic breakfast at Cheeky’s with the painter Scott Neary and his ex-NYC pal Diane, we piled into the convertible and drove to the “House of Tomorrow” aka Elvis and Priscilla’s honeymoon house.

 

Me and Scott stockpiling Vitamin D in preparation of the return to frozen New York.

 

Moving from the blinding-white austerity of the Alcazar to that kitsch riot known as The Parker Hotel is like being airlifted from a Zen monastery and dropped into a Long Island flea market.

 

Designed by Jonathan Adler, The Parker boasts a carpet sourced from the creators of the carpet in Kubrick's The Shining. It was fun staying here for for two nights, even if there was an eerie undertone of dystopian luxury.

 

My rather secluded room had a lovely view of the lush gardens.

 

It may have been 85F outside, but that didn't stop The Parker from having a roaring fire going at all times in the rear lounge. That's Michael and his twin brother Patrick McDonald, the Northern Hemisphere's most famous dandy, hanging out in the background before we headed out to their favorite Mexican restaurant in Palm Desert for lunch. 

Pity I didn't take more photos of the McDonalds but there were plenty of Facebook live videos, including our trip to tiki heaven Tropicale where we dined with our friend Carlos King before taking in a show by 1970s disco legend France Joli, of "Come to Me" fame, at the gay club next door.

 

During my stay at The Parker, I hung out with my (camera-shy) friend Sameer Reddy, visiting from LA. At his suggestion we took a long, invigorating hike through the Indian Canyons.

 

I absolutely adore desert flowers.

 

After the hike, Sameer and I repaired to The Parker's Lemonade Stand for frosty libations and hot gossip.

 

I'm always in Rome—at least that's what Nicholas, the head bartender at The Locarno Hotel, always says of me—and indeed, there I was again at the end of June for the summer edition of AltaRoma and to visit friends.

 

This edition of AltaRoma was held at the storied Cinecittà Studios. These recreations of the temples of Jupiter and Venus were built for HBO's Rome. (They made me chuckle because whenever anyone asks me if I was raised Catholic I tell them that my paternal Grandfather was not Christian—he preferred to commune with the pantheon of ancient Roman gods instead.)

 

On our first day at Cinecittà, Diane Pernet and I were taken by curator Clara Tosi Pamphili to Makinarium, the award-winning special visual effects studio, founded in 2014, that produces lifelike creations for TV and film, as well as those famous baby dragons and severed heads for Gucci’s Fall 2018 runway show.

 

During my first evening at Cinecittà Studios for this edition of AltaRoma, we were invited to the premiere of La Moda Proibita, a documentary about couturier Roberto Capucci, at Sala Fellini. During the cocktail I was thrilled to meet costume designer Milena Canonero, resplendent in stylish knots of ethereal white.

Canonero was born in Turin (where I'll be visiting this February) and grew up in Genoa, and designed the costumes for three of my favorite Stanley Kubrick films: Clockwork Orange, The Shining and Barry Lyndon (clip below for the scene that was naturally lit only with candles). She won an Academy Award for her work on Barry Lyndon and also picked up Oscars for Chariots of Fire, Marie Antoinette and The Grand Budapest Hotel. When my friend Susan Sabet (above left) from Pashion, a magazine based in Cairo, said to the designer, “I want to interview you for my magazine,” Canonero replied, “No, no…I want to interview YOU!”

 

Lebanese trans woman couture designer Robert Abi Nader showed ghostly glamour at the 17th-century Biblioteca Casanatense.

 

Lupo Lanzara, Deputy Chairman of the Accademia Costume e Moda, Diane, Paulo Mariotti of Brazilian Vogue, Rebecca Voight and Alessio de Navasques during a tour of the Accademia.

 

As humiliated Italian World Cup fans gathered in piazzas before wide-screen TVs, my friend Consuelo Aranyi and I enjoyed marinated zucchini, raw artichoke salad and rosé from Israel in the Jewish Ghetto.

 

My pal Rinaldo Rocco—the actor and screenwriter who was just back from walking the red carpet at the Shanghai International Film Festival—invited me to his rooftop terrace where we caught up on a full year’s worth of global anecdotes over a delicious dinner of figs, octopus and tomatoes the color of rubies.

 

On my last night in Rome, Nicholas made me a heroic martini at the Locarno, my favorite hotel in Italy where I always stay.

 

"Travel is important for your mind." —Elsa Peretti

 

Gold rush: It's always a thrill to return to Vienna where I'm invited to cover MQ Vienna Fashion Week for A Shaded View on Fashion every September.

 

The opening night extravaganza was a best-of Austrian designers.

 

The Queen of the Catwalks: MQVFW co-curator and my friend Zigi Mueller-Matyas!

 

A delightful lunch at the home and atelier of Vienna-based Swiss artist Nives Widauer: Moi avec Champagne, Nives, my publicist pal Elisabeth Muth, New York’s one-and-only Chip Duckett of Spin Cycle and Werner Greigertisch of Kracher Weinlaubenhof wines.

 

Nives' Syrian chef friend prepared a delightful vegetarian lunch for us, with wonderful Austrian breads.

 

Just about every day in Vienna, I had lunch at Glacis Beisl. Favored by locals, this garden patio restaurant is hiding in plain sight, tucked away in a corner of the Museumsquartier. On this day, I had an appetizer of Styrian pumpkin mousse, with squash salad, all dressed with Kürbiskernöl. I always eat meat here and my favorite dishes are beef goulash, blood sausage, wiener schnitzel and their famous dumplings stuffed with pork cracklings.

 

I was again blessed with a suite at my favorite hotel in Vienna, Le Méridien, where the illuminated headboard had me galloping off to dreamland.

 

No, it wasn't the legend of Robin Hood that drew me to Nottingham, England (even though Errol Flynn's tights loom large in my imagination): my 1993 video Glennda and Camille Do Downtown, co-starring feminist pugilist Camille Paglia, is featured in a major exhibition of women and queer artists—Still I Rise: Feminisms, Gender, Resistance—at Nottingham Contemporary, and I flew in to attend the opening.

 

Journalists view my video during the exhibition's press preview.

 

The wall text I wrote for my piece.

 

Moi on opening night sporting my very limited-edition Rick Owens x Vaginal Davis shirt, a gift from Lia Gangitano of Participant Gallery.

 

Yes, folks, that is the one-and-only Mark Simpson, author of Saint Morrissey, Anti-Gay, Male Impersonators et al, who drove down from northern England to attend the press preview and opening night party with me. We also did some sightseeing around Nottingham, including an amusing tour of 18th-century prison cells and gallows at the Justice Museum, and lots of pub visits (because the weather turned cold, rainy and miserable—in England, whaat?!—the day after the opening).

I hadn’t seen Mark since my 37th birthday dinner at Antica Pesa in Rome, in January 2016—an evening that shall live in economic infamy!

 

It was a delight meeting Matt Carter, who works for my London video distributor LUX, and curator Cédric Fauq at the opening night party!

 

The entrance to one of Nottingham’s most famous buildings, an Art Nouveau masterpiece from the early 1900s. (The ground floor houses a Zara—groan!—and I’m afraid that this magnificent building is now officially known as The Zara Building. The architect was Albert Nelson Bromley.)

 

"Travel is useful, it exercises the imagination." —Louis-Ferdinand Cèline

 

The Castle Rock

 

No visit to Nottingham is complete without a pint at Ye Olde Trip to Jerusalem, a pub—which purports to be England’s oldest —that’s carved into medieval caves. (Mark referred to it disparagingly as "The Medieval Times Restaurant.")

 

An outstanding venison pie, with bacon, red wine and shallots mixed in with the luscious chunks of deer meat, served with mash, mushy pies and gravy, at Pieminister.

 

Wollaton Hall: Grand on the outside, tatty on the inside (it houses a rather shop-worn natural history museum).

Thank you for taking this trip with me. See you somewhere, in some time zone, for cocktails and effervescent gossip in 2019, dolls.

Love,

Glenn Belverio

 

 

 

My Women Heroes, Villains, Vamps & Tramps Tree-Trimming Party, December 8, 2018, by Glenn Belverio. Photos by Glenn Belverio & Drew Gardner

Once again, New York City's most notable demimonde descended on my East Village apartment for the annual pagan ritual of decorating my Christmas tree, and to engage in tipsy debauchery, spirited debate, salacious gossip and mutual admiration. Like every year, the guest list was carefully assembled and vetted ( this time with consultation by committee) to bring together the most dynamic, intelligent and stylish creatures possible. (Or, as one guest quipped: "One timely bomb at this shindig would wipe out most of the extant counter culture.")

The theme I chose this year was Women Heroes, Villains, Vamps & Tramps, inspired partly by the  exhibition of feminist and queer art at Nottingham Contemporary,  Still I Rise (where my video "Glennda and Camille Do Downtown" is now on view), and partly by the current feminist zeitgeist.

A few guests rose to the challenge of my dress code, while others used it as inspiration for their ornaments:

Mary Shelley cold-shoulder duchess satin gowns, Jacqueline Susann savvy and Pucci dresses, Lucy Ricardo as “the Wicked City Woman,” live snakes worn as jewelry à la the Marchesa Casati, Angela Davis righteous radicalism, Vaginal Davis ferocious shrimping action, Celia Sanchez guerrilla chic, Jayne County punk rock glamour, Camille Paglia gender-bending Napoleon costumes, Ruth Bader Ginsburg chutzpah, P.I.G. (Politically Involved Girls) pandemonium, Madame Mao mayhem, Wendy O. Williams mohawks and chainsaws, Jane Fonda Viet Cong helmets, Kate Bush interpretive dancing, Yoko Ono cathartic wailing, Dorothy Parker dipsomania, Dorothy Height hats, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez Democratic Socialist solidarity, Marlene Dietrich anti-Nazi activism, Elizabeth Hawes radical ready-to-wear, Lina Wertmüller white eyeglasses, Grace Jones Haring body paint, Carole Pope lesbian rock ‘n roll runway realness, Ann Magnuson magnetism and Emma Goldman nonstop ecstatic revolutionary dancing.

And now on to the party....

When David Johansen of New York Dolls and Buster Poindexter fame showed up for my party with his uber-cool wife, my friend Mara Hennessey, I literally almost fainted. We chatted about his dinner at Jade Island—an early-1970s-era Polynesian kitsch mecca in Staten Island (where Johansen is from)—with Anthony Bourdain, on No Reservations. ("I'd never even been there before until Anthony invited me." Did you like it? I wanted to know.  "YOU'LL like it!" he replied after a dubious glance at the string of plastic tiki lights in my kitchen.)

Later, I handed David one of the homemade cheese puffs my friend Alenia made. "What do you think?" I asked hopefully. He took a bite, grimaced slightly and announced, "I think these are from the Perry Como cookbook!"

 

Mara Hennessey hand-made this ornament which depicts Leigh Bowery and Trojan at Taboo, Bowery's mid-'80s club in London. I told Mara and David the story about the night Bruce LaBruce and I met Leigh Bowery, in 1994 (a few months before he died) at a club night Michael Schmidt was doing in the old Boy Bar space on St. Mark's Place (I think Schmidt's party was called Cocksucker). Bowery was wearing a spiked German helmet and a crinoline ball gown, with camouflage makeup. After we shook Bowery's Lurex-gloved hand, LaBruce quipped, "We've just been introduced to a spectacle." (I still remember, quite vividly, Bowery spinning around the dance floor like a whirling dervish, raising his Pickelhelm heavenward, as the DJ blasted the Sex Pistols' "God Save the Queen.")

In my 2006 book Confessions from the Velvet Ropes, I recount the night, in 1987, when I witnessed Bowery causing a seismic shift at a club called Savage, where he debuted his lightbulbs-in-the-ears look and profoundly influenced the future ensembles of the Club Kids in attendance.

 

Fashion legend Lauren Ezersky was head-to-toe in Rick Owens.

 

Lauren's friend, the fashion designer Ela Erdogan made this couture-inspired ornament. Ela was a delightful party guest but somehow managed to elude our cameras.

 

Dan Callahan, author of many movie-star bios (Barbara Stanwyck, Vanessa Redgrave, The Art of American Screen Acting) came dressed as Joan of Arc, complete with REAL sword!

 

Dan's ornament was an homage to Ingrid Bergman's portrayal of Joan of Arc.

 

Glennda Orgasm archivist Stevin Azo Michels chatted with Mara Hennessey's daughter, Leah Hennessey, who only happens to be the hottest underground playwright and stage actress in New York City right now. Her brilliant play Slash, co-written and co-acted by Emily Allan, has a buzz that's getting louder and louder by the second. It features a brilliant satirical  reenactment of the early '90s catfight between Susan Sontag and my pal Camille Paglia.

 

 

The Paris Review’s Ben Shields (who came costumed as Camille Paglia as Napoleon at 8 years old) and artist Dana Schein.

 

Transgressive literary titan Bruce Benderson, Ben and fashion designer Nile Cymlo. Nile's private fashion presentations at her Chelsea Hotel salon are the high point of every New York Fashion Week.

 

Ben Shields' ornament depicted the medieval Brunhilde being torn asunder by galloping horses.

 

Dana Schein's ornament was an homage to the polarizing Judith Butler. (I'm not a fan!)

 

Fashion designer Lola Faturoti, performance-art legend Penny Arcade and Bruce Benderson.

 

Bruce Benderson's ornament celebrates Shirley Stoler as Martha Beck, the homicidal obese nurse in the 1970 midnight-movie cult classic The Honeymoon Killers.

 

Stoler and her co-star Tony Lo Bianco.

 

My friend the makeup artist Virna Smiraldi is recovering from surgery and could not make it up my stairs—but Virna's friend Penny Arcade delivered her ornament: a glittery rendition of gender terrorist Christeene Vale.

 

Legendary ladies Lauren Ezersky and Nile Cmylo.

 

My parties always have that small apartment/big party Breakfast at Tiffany's vibe and this year, Alenia completed it by coming as Holly Golightly.

 

A former colleague at MoMA Design Store, Christy Nyiri and Studio 54 legend Snoogy Brown. No party is complete without Snoogy!

 

International woman of mystery Isabel H. and Stevin Azo.

 

Stevin Azo's ornament: The First Lady of the Night, Melania! I did not vote for Donald Trump (I'm a Bernie Sanders supporter), however I do not approve of the slut-shaming that has proliferated since Melania's nude photos were released. I am pleased to have her among my ornaments.

 

Ben Shields and his friend, the writer and contrarian feminist Janet Stern Capron.

Janet's ornament: Betty Boop riding side saddle while sporting a cock ring scarf.

 

Investigative journalist Aaron Rasmussen and Katie Degentesh (as a lucha libre).

 

Christy, Dan, writer Johanna Lenander (alas, her promised Andrea Dworkin ornament never materialized), and one of my colleagues from MoMA Design Store, Cathy Citarella.

 

Cathy's ornament was a beautiful tribute to Katherine Hepburn...

…with Kate’s quote. (Because there’s nothing more tedious and annoying than a self-proclaimed “rules person.”)

 

Writer Corey Sabourin with Cuban Revolution documenter and author of One Day in December Nancy Stout.

 

Nancy's ornament was the subject of her biography One Day in December: Celia Sanchez, the most prominent woman in the Cuban Revolution.

 

MoMA collection artist Martirene Alcantara and Corey.

 

Martirene brought two beautiful gold show ornaments (the Liza tree above it is Carly Sommerstein's ornament from last year)....

Corey Sabourin's ornament looks ahead to the impending election.

 

Fashion writer and curator Alexis Romano and Martirene Alcantara.

 

Alexis' ornament was a sassy homage to Simone de Beauvoir!

 

Janet Stern Capron and me surveying Janet’s ornaments.

 

Product designer and Lucky Wang store owner Emily Wang discussed her love for Rick Owens with Lauren Ezersky.

 

Dan and Ben

 

Josh Casey of MoMA Design Store, Aaron, Martirene and Josh's friend Ben.

 

Dana and Alenia

 

Me feeling the effects of the bubbly with writer Janet Rosen.

 

Many of my guests dispensed with the saccharine tradition of twee ornaments and instead favored violent themes:

Janet's ornament celebrated Old Testament badass Judith and her beheading of Holofernes.

Artist Scott Neary's re-telling of the Salome tale with a beheaded Donald.

 

A felt tribute to Lorena Bobbitt as Katie Degentesh's serene angel looks on.

 

Harriet Tubman on a roll of $20 bills. There has been a movement in favor of replacing Andrew Jackson with Tubman on the bill and I say it's high time for that!

 

Thanks for reading, Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, good fortune in 2019..

xxx

Glenn Belverio

 

Rome & AltaRoma, Summer 2018

Above: Fornasetti at the Palazzo Altemps

 

Dear paisanos and Italophiles,

I was back in Rome at the end of June to visit friends, cover the summer edition of AltaRoma with Diane Pernet, check out the Fornasetti exhibition and relax at one of my favorite hotels in Europe, the Locarno. Here are the links to all my recent stories on A Shaded View on Fashion:

Sylvio Giardina's Haute Couture triumph

What to Wear to the Apocalypse: A.I. Re-action exhibition

Miahatami celebrates the power of Persian Women

We visited the workshops where Gucci's baby dragons were created

Touring the legendary backlots of Cinecittà Studios

A visit to the Accademia Costume e Moda

Fornasetti exhibition at the Palazzo Altemps

 

Susan Sabet of Pashion magazine, Oscar-winning costume designer Milena Canonero and yours truly at Sala Fellini.

 

 Who Is On Next? Italian Vogue competition winner MRZ.

 

Lupo Lanzara, Diane Pernet, Paulo Mariotti of Brazilian Vogue, Rebecca Voight and Alessio de Navasques at the Accademia Costume e Moda.

 

Lebanese trans woman couture designer Robert Abi Nader showed ghostly glamour at the 17th-century Biblioteca Casanatense.

 

My friend the actor and screenwriter Rinaldo Rocco invited me to a delightful dinner on his roof terrace in Monti.

 

Cinecittà Studios - the set of HBO's Rome.

 

 

Baci, baci,

Glenn Belverio

 

 

Patti Smith Surprise Performance at The Museum of Modern Art, December 21, 2017. Video & words by Glenn Belverio

 

Dear Barefoot Dancers,

Patti Smith and Lenny Kaye did a free Winter Solstice show at my place of work, MoMA, and it was something akin to a religious experience. She sang the last song that John Lennon wrote, for Yoko, and electrified us with her boundless optimism. ("2017 has been a year of great, unexpected strife...but it's also another year of being alive, and being a alive is the greatest thing we have, it's the greatest gift.")

She read poems she wrote for Robert Mappethorpe and Sam Shepard and sang a gorgeous rendition of "O Holy Night." Michael Stipe was there and joined her on stage (which I missed because I had a meeting to run to) but I videotaped most of it, four videos below, enjoy this lovely performance. (You'll need to turn on the sound in the lower right-hand corner of each video.)

Love,

Glenn Belverio

 

 

 

 

My Club 57 vs. Studio 54 Tree-Trimming Party. Photos & words by Glenn Belverio

Adam & Alenia

Nancy Stout, Sean Carrillo, Bibbe Hansen & Josh

Francesco, Rebecca, Chay & Rober

Patrick McDonald & Lauren Ezersky

Catherine Talese & Rebecca Goyette

Bruce Benderson. Adam, Ben Shields & Scott Neary

 

Dear club hoppers, hair hoppers & hopped-up homos,

This year marked the 10th anniversary of my annual Christmas tree-trimming party and it was a night for the ages. Each year I choose an ornament theme (Alfred Hitchcock, 1970s New York, Fellini vs. Pasolini, Oscar Niemeyer's 100th birthday) and draw up a guest list based on the strategy developed in My Way of Life by Joan Crawford (except that barefooted hippies are allowed to attend. You just don't find many of those in the winter).

This year, based on a wonderful exhibition at  my place of work, MoMA, (Club 57: Film, Performance, and Art in the East Village, 1978–1983) I chose the theme Club 57 and pitted it against its antithesis, Studio 54. The dress code:

Klaus Nomi otherworldliness, Bianca Jagger floor-length furs and Steve Rubell Norma Kamali sleeping bag coats, John Sex towering pompadours and nubile sensuality, amyl-nitrate-soaked hanky code hankies, Nomi-Bowie Tristan Tzara Dada dandyism, man-in-the-moon coke spoons, B-52s beehives and Kenny Scharf fluorescent body paint, Truman Capote catatonic stupors, Ann Magnuson magnetism, Liza-like ‘lude behavior, Wendy Wild Joey Heatherock runway realness, Halston ultrasuede jumpsuits and Victor Hugo jockstraps, James Chance skinny ties and No Wave attitude, Grace Jones Azzedine Alaïa femme fatale couture, Fleshtones paisley shirts and love beads, and partial or total nudity.

And now, onto the party....

Suzanne Batmanghelichi and Patrick McDonald

Writer Bruce Benderson tackled the ornament theme gamely by morphing John Sex with Liza Minnelli.

Susan, the photographer behind the project "I Am a Rent-Stabilized Tenant," made an ornament with the now-iconic photo of Keith Haring performing his Dada-esque TV piece at Club 57. You can see the video of this at MoMA's exhibition.

Designer Sylvia Heisel and her husband artist Scott Taylor (who was a bartender at Studio 54 in the late '70s) made this 3D-printed ornament representing Club 57's logo. The Liza Xmas tree is by Carly Sommerstein. I remember those Peretti cuffs from my dog days at Tiffany's!

The Club 57 ornament glows in the dark!

Sylvia and Scott also made a 3D-printed Studio 54 logo ornament.

Designer Nile Cmylo, Glennda Orgasm video archivist and art collector Stevin Azo, and Warhol Superstar Bibbe Hansen. Stevin is dressed as Bianca Jagger's white horse.

Nile Cmylo attempted to exorcise her Trump-news obsession by creating this sequined DT doll. Why such a glamorous costume for the fascist troll? It's a nod to the days Trump spent hanging out at Studio 54 with his arch-McCarthyist buddy, Roy Cohn!

Bibbe Hansen made this hand-sewn homage to Keith Haring's Exploding Head artwork.

 Like Batman's The Riddler, Stevin Azo riddled us this: What is the difference between Club 57 and Studio 54? Don't ask me about the chunky debris at the bottom....I am sure it is fake! And not the only "I wonder if these drugs are real" ornament on my tree....

Front and back view of the ornament brought by Catherine Talese: an early '80s party invite for the club Area. Catherine has an extensive and very impressive archive of club invites from the '80s. This one is famous—and rather notorious. Honored to have it on my tree!

Regarding that aforementioned white horse, Shawne Riley sent me her handmade wooden ornament all the way from sunny New Mexico: Bianca Jagger riding into Studio 54 on a white horse on her birthday.

Shawne sent this photo along for reference.

Hot stuff! Editor Carly Sommerstein, Studio 54 legend Snoogy Brown and writer Nancy Stout.

Nancy Stout's No Wave Disco meteorite.

Oh, I love this one! What seems like a random Dadaist gesture from Ben Shields is actually steeped in history: Before Studio 54 was the most famous disco in the world, it was CBS Studio 52, where The Jack Benny Show was filmed in the 1950s and 1960s. I always loved the conundrum of Benny being a faggy skirt chaser. Skirt chaser? Are we still allowed to say that?! TRIGGER WARNING.

The angel on top of the tree this year is performance artist Rebecca Goyette's homage to Club 57 manager, DJ and all-around ring leader, Ann Magnuson, here in Bongwater "Power of Pussy" mermaid mode.

The flip side has the lyrics to "The Power of Pussy."

Following in the footsteps of Mark Morgan Perez (who couldn't make it this year), my friend Dana turned one of her empty prescription bottles into a festive ornament.

Janet Rosen's tribute to Club 57's Bill Landis. Landis screened exploitation films for his Sleazoid Express film series at the club.

The flip side.

Girls’ Night Out by artist Scott Neary. I believe this was the night Elizabeth was photographed in her limo for the cover of Hollywood Babylon 2!

Fashion legend Lauren Ezersky came over early to help me with my equally legendary radis farcis au chèvre.

I love it when people make new friends at my parties! Snoogy and Rebecca from MoMA.

We were all WOWed by fashion curator Alexis Romano's trompe-l'œil dress!

My parties are a dictatorship at the door....and a democracy on the dance floor! Sometime past midnight we all did the Frug, the Watusi and the Mashed Potato to the B-52s "Quiche Lorraine" and continued on to Richard Hell and the Voidoids, the Ramones, The Jam and, of course, Blondie. It's true that my bedroom sees a lot of action but usually not this kind of action!

 

Kyle from the National Arts Club brought an Andy teddy bear from the Warhol Museum in Pittsburgh!

Klaus Nomi in my kitchen. I wore a Klaus Nomi t-shirt to the party and well, there are no photos of me from the party. Someone who shall remain nameless had to delete all the photos of me from their prehistoric phone before they boarded a Texas-bound WWII-era propeller plane. Oh mary, don't ask! And the rest of my friends were having way too much fun to stand around and take photos. They get drunk, converse, eat and dance—just like our flapper fore-mothers did! Even Snoogy refrained from taking selfies....

An image of John Sex from my invite.

My tree this morning: still holding up.

Happy holidaze, dolls.

xxx

Glenn Belverio