As a final bow, Oso will celebrate with "Yoko Oso: The Farewell Show" at Hair Circus in Fort Lauderdale on Saturday, August 17. Flamboyantly described as a "one final show" before "crossing the river Styx into the beyond," the one-night-only celebration is a funeral-tinged capstone to Oso's career thus far. Join Oso for a madcap medley of songs and stories, along with special guests ready to eulogize one of South Florida's premiere drag performers.
Before gracing South Florida with her talents, Oso was born in the welcoming atmosphere of Brooklyn nightlife while studying graphic design during the day. Oso hoped to find or re-create that kind of ethos here in Florida. In a way, she's done both. Oso made a name for herself during a renaissance of drag with a new crop of performers who were transgressively testing the limits of the art form at the groundbreaking monthly party Counter Corner. Since those early days, Oso has performed throughout South Florida, from Gender Blender and Double Stubble to the Pérez Art Museum Miami, where she created a video piece to accompany a Flaming Classics screening of Maya Deren's Meshes of the Afternoon.
The juxtaposition of those delightfully gritty parties and the pristine walls of art institutions personifies Oso's unique brand of drag. Oso exudes a heady amalgamation of glam and grunge that mixes avant-garde art with punk aesthetics and a touch of musical theater. A breakthrough performance at Black Market at Churchill's Pub led to Oso producing a weekly show, Dollhouse Presents, with artist Panther Cordts. Performing and producing proved to be both exhilarating and exhausting.
Oso's retirement from club performances cannot be separated from the ever-evolving and difficult landscape of Miami nightlife. It is not lost on Oso or the community that many of the spaces that saw some of her earlier performances are no longer operational. Now at a new inflection point, Oso is giving a final bow on the nightlife stage to focus on other aspects of her art.
Ahead of Oso's funeral parade, New Times had a deathbed-side chat with the eclectic woman herself.
"My very first bar show was at Macri Park in Brooklyn at 3 a.m. on a Monday night," says Oso.
Yoko Oso photo
Yoko Oso: Yoko is a character I created when I was finishing my BFA program to have a place to put all my creative energy into and live an authentic life outside of the quiet resignation of suburbia. As I embraced more of my femininity, the character evolved from this art-punk party clown to a grand dame of the stage and screen who was fearless, loved to be the center of attention, and was as crass as possible to get a laugh — everything that in my day-to-day life I am not.
What are your influences and references?
This is an ever-changing question. Initially, Yoko was inspired by Kate Bush, Marina Abramović, and, of course, Sasha Velour, the first queen I saw who merged drag with performance art. Nowadays, what truly drives my creative spirit are the complex women in the musicals of Kander and Ebb, the video art of Nam June Paik, and the absolute low-brow, weirdo humor of Adult Swim shows.
Considering that this is your final bar show, can you describe your first performance?
My very first bar show was at Macri Park in Brooklyn at 3 a.m. on a Monday night. Absolutely unthinkable now that I work for a living. I had never even stepped on a stage without an instrument or a choir book in hand, so it felt truly vulnerable. I was dancing to my rendition of Kate Bush's "Wuthering Heights" choreography in a bad white wig I haggled from a vendor in Astor Place, a thrift store kimono, donning a glitter beard and deluding myself that I was the image of Leigh Bowery meets Chita Rivera. With only liquid courage keeping my heart from pounding out of my ribcage, it was simultaneously the most frightening and exhilarating thing I had experienced up until that point.
How has your drag and your relationship with drag changed in the time since?
On a micro level, I always said I'd stop doing drag when it stopped being fun. At a certain point, I realized I had done everything I wanted to in drag, and dealing with all the little personalities made it, well, not fun anymore.
On a macro level, the economy and the industry of drag are not at all what it was seven years ago before COVID and the consumerism of drag culture thanks to RuPaul's Drag Race. When I began in Miami, you had more mainstream drag at venues like the Palace Bar and Lips, and if you wanted to cut your teeth in a more avant-garde direction, there were parties like Counter Corner, where I did my first Miami gig, unpaid.
As the cost of living has gone up in South Florida and as arts funding has become harder and harder to come by, alongside this ongoing culture war against drag, the rugged individualism of late-stage capitalism has left everyone fending for themselves. The community that was once here is not what it was. We aren't supported or looking out for each other the way we were, and it feels extremely isolating.
Meanwhile, on television, drag queens have to take out the equivalent of small business loans to afford a designer package to be on RuPaul's show, and in turn, it's conditioned audiences to expect a more cookie-cutter version of drag that's even affected the local drag scene that is already oversaturated. Drag Race hasn't even featured a drag king or drag thing on their show, so local showrunners are giving fewer and fewer opportunities to those deeply talented artists in favor of those who fit the mold of Drag Race.
It is a sad state when the shows that used to promote alternative art now fixate on the bottom line of bar sales. It's not about artistry anymore; it's about looking like a Las Vegas lighting fixture.
Your retirement coincided with being named "Best Drag Performer" by New Times. What led to the decision to retire from bar shows?
In these past few months, I've spent working on my visual art again, auditioning and performing in shows as an actor, a singer, or a musician. I have been so deeply excited about these upcoming projects in the future. When I think of doing drag in bars, I don't think of the future. I think of the past when I spent years trying to challenge audiences and create a community based on the values that I held — equity, artistic integrity, and just putting on a good show. Instead, I felt like I was trying to do public relations most of the time and escape a narrative in the pseudo-meritocracy that is the drag scene that chased me for years.
Performing in bars is also so draining. Midnight show times on a Monday, inebriated audiences that only see you as room ambiance, investing thousands of dollars into costumes for a $75 booking fee, and egotistical showrunners with their own agendas. Underneath the spangled costumes and eyeliner was just an exhausted soul trying to express something.
"Underneath the spangled costumes and eyeliner was just an exhausted soul trying to express something," Oso explains.
Yoko Oso photo
The farewell show is partially a one-woman BFA thesis show and another a Cher-well tour with special guests. I chose a venue where I had more control over the lighting, the production, and the promotion with a space that was far more intimate to really make the audience feel immersed in this world I once held dear.
There is a structure to the show going through some of my "greatest hits" performances, but also an interactive bit where the audience can pick a song from the hat for me to lip-synch to. There's more of an incorporation of my projection design and artistry that I wanted to involve since, during the pandemic, I had such a great time creating these digital drag performances that incorporate my own career as a video artist.
Since this is not a full retirement from drag, what areas are you looking to focus on now and into the future?
I'm working on recording demos with my band project, Ursa Arcana, where I sing and play all the instruments. Working with a vocal and acting coach to get auditions in community and professional musicals. I just wrapped up playing bass in a community theater musical again, and it felt like a complete reset on my psyche. My friends from Flaming Classics have a few film projects that I may or may not be involved in. More than anything, I'm just looking to be less online and connect with people in real life again.
Where can fans see you next?
Que sera sera. I'm back in the rigamarole of auditioning, getting my name out there again on my terms, aside from all the glitz and glamor. Perhaps you'll see me in community or professional theater, probably some small-press fairs since I have zines I'm working on in my spare time, and, more realistically, as Ursa Arcana. The future is wide open.
What advice would you have for anyone wanting to start drag?
Get the money upfront. Just kidding.
I think my advice is to find what makes you want to do drag. Don't be afraid to experiment. You will fail at times, but you can find what works for you. Find your community and make your own spaces. Improve on your craft if it feels right; don't change yourself to fit someone else's expectations. If it stops being fun, get your Scrum master certification or something. Anyone can do drag, but not everyone has to do drag.
What advice would you have for anyone wanting to quit drag?
Never be afraid to start over. No matter how much time, money, or effort you spend doing drag, the lessons you take away from drag will mean more than trying to pickle your liver at some dive bar, running yourself into financial ruin and exhaustion. Take those lessons with you and find what makes you happy again.
Yoko Oso: The Farewell Show. 7 p.m. Saturday, August 17, at Hair Circus, 501 SW Second Ave., Fort Lauderdale; 954-822-9246; haircircussalon.com. Tickets cost $20 to $25 via shotgun.live.
