Resisting Passivity: Staging Active Female Sexuality In Weimer Era Inspire Cabaret –

An Analysis of Performance and Lyrics of Dresden Dolls, Bitter Ruin, and Marcella & the

Forget-Me-Nots In Kate McCarthy’s 2006 article, “Not Pretty Girls,” McCarthy highlights the intersection in theorization of women’s performance in rock music and Judith Butler’s deconstruction of gender/sex binaries. She conceives the female body as “not (only) a locus of oppression, but as a kind of performance site, where cultural expectations about gender are rehearsed but also, at least potentially, manipulated and resisted.” (McCarthy, 2006: 70) McCarthy reproduces as common thread in feminist scholarship on women in rock with the concept of ugliness as part of women rock musicians’ resistance to the images circulated in commercialized pop music. (2006: 75) By positioning the overwhelming critical response to Courtney Love (and symbolically extending to other 90’s female musicians Alanis Morissette, Ani DiFranco, and PJ Harvey) as reflecting the

“cultural anxiety about women’s acting out of their assigned demeanors, especially that of sexual passivity.” (2006: 77-78) In a similarly interesting exploration of women in pop music, Melanie

Lowe investigates the problematic reception of Britney Spears among “’tween” girls. (2003)

Lowe points out the contradictory relationship Spears has within her focus groups, attributing the acceptance and rejection of Spears due to the dichotomy of her performance as “good girl/bad girl, slag/drag, and virgin/whore” as these dichotomous identities were being performed concurrently and simultaneously. (2003: 139) Both McCarthy and Lowe highlight the importance pop music performers play in third-wave feminism, specifying that performers are becoming more important to communicating feminist politics than activists and academics.

(McCarthy, 2006: 75 and Lowe, 2003: 135-136) However, since the decline of the riot grrrl movement and the rise in both Spears style female musicians and the popularization of progressive women’s rock (such as Fiona Apple and Tori Amos) the overwhelming portrayal of female sexuality is aligned with hegemonic portrayals of female passiveness. (McCarthy, 2006:

89) Passive sexuality is constructed in the pop music sphere of Britney Spears by symbolic positioning of the female body as an object rather than a subject. (Lowe, 2003: 134-135) Even if we view Spears as an agent of her own sexual expression, her musical performance remains problematic in opposition to patriarchal oppression as she fulfills the image of the desirous female of a male gaze. Thus, even while playing the “slut” she remains dependent on a male subject for sexual fulfillment, begging the pursuit of the male rather than pursuing the male herself. (Lowe, 2003: 135) Conversely, the sexual passiveness of contemporary alternative women in rock is largely based on a disavowal of sexuality. Performers like Fiona Apple distance themselves from expressions of sexuality through recurrent themes of rape. Additional methods employed by some of the popular alternative female musicians rely on the performativity and presentation of the body. This concept, perhaps the most common trope, is highly common in post-punk and post-riot grrrl rock groups such as Wild Flag and le Tigre, both built from members of queercore and riot grrrl scenes. Their performances, rather than being sexualized, are more combative of gender rather than sexual expression. While gender and sexuality are inter-related and inseparable, they represent different strategies and focusing on gender performativity separates and ignores the performance of female sexuality in pop music.

For example, Wild Flag, described as a female super-group1, only subverts patriarchy by focusing on only their performative skill and ability to combat the stereotypical masculinism of rock performance.

The question then becomes whether female musicians can perform a counter-hegemonic sexuality that simultaneously subverts hegemonic representations of femininity and

1 Super-group refers to a musical group formed of members who achieved fame and recognition prior to their current group. , Rebecca Cole, , and of Wild Flag are all graduates of highly successful bands associated with queercore and riot grrrl movements. simultaneously empowers resistance in the audience. Within the historic continuum of subversive music, cabaret represents a site where music and counter-hegemonic sexualities met as evidenced in Mizejewski’s analysis of feminine sexuality in Fosse’s film adaptation of

Cabaret. (1987) While she problematizes the film’s portrayal of sexuality in terms of linking the rise of Nazism to the sexual excessiveness of the Weimer Republic. (1987: 7) The film, based on the musical of the same name, which was based on the book Goodbye to Berlin by Christopher

Isherwood, presents female sexuality as “distorted and threatening.” (Mizejewski, 1987: 5) The musical and film represent the closest visual presentation of Weimer Era cabaret, which ceased to exist following the end of World War II and the Allied occupation. Even with the problematic

Sally Bowles, it is no surprise that Weimer Era cabaret has become a stylistic symbol to a growing association of musical performers located on the fringes (and at Fringe Festivals) of pop music seeking a form and style that is marked by spontaneity and subversion. (Lidington, 1987:

107)

Mizejewski is not critical of the portrayal of [female] sexuality in Fosse’s film, but her observation of Fosse’s construction of the feminization of Nazism, symbolically allying Nazi’s with the “unimaginable Other” and femaleness. (1987: 15-16) If we purely deal with the expression, rather than the historic or filmic context with Nazism, then the sexuality, still grotesque and dangerous, can be recovered. In essence, contemporary female musicians performing in styles and aesthetics derived from Weimer Era cabaret, enact the dangerous and grotesque sexuality, that symbolizes their resistance to hegemonic female sexuality that does not focus on provide the sexual agency for female sexual pleasure. By utilizing both textual critiques of lyrics, music videos and live performances, I will provide evidence to the resistive power of performers symbolically associating themselves with the image of the femme fatale iconic of cabaret era art and literature. This paper will focus on a textual analysis of the lyrics and music of the Dresden Dolls’ “Missed Me,” a narrative analysis of Bitter Ruin’s video “Beware,” and an analysis of a live performance by Marcella and the Forget-Me-Nots.

missed me missed me now you've got to kiss me

if you kiss me mister you must think im pretty

if you think so mister you must want to fuck me

if you fuck me mister it must mean you love me

if you love me mister you would never leave me

it's as simple as can be!

(Amanda Palmer, 2002)

The story of the Dresden Dolls is told from the subject position of a girl, who entices, stalks, and traps an older man. From the onset, the danger of the female subject’s sexuality is represented in the opening stanza where the simple informing her sister of a kiss will result in the

“mister’s” arrest. Palmer constructs the female subject of the song as aware of her ability to be viewed by men as desirable, constructed by the cause and effect of the second stanza. The female subject extrapolates the meaning of her “mister” kissing her to “you must think I’m pretty” to

“you must want to fuck me” to “it must mean you love me” and ending in the obsessive “you would never leave me.” The descent in obsession and madness, and male oriented violence, follows with “if you trick me, Mister, I will make you suffer.” Here the typical masculine control of heterosexual relationships is parodied and recontextualized placing the often sexualized

“barely legal” female subject as the controller of the relationship. The female subject then goes on to demand the man “take responsibility” because “she is fragile… just like any girl would be.” The inevitable ending of the song, the female subject’s complete descent into obsessive madness and the male’s incarceration, is tinged with ironic ire with the entire blame resting on the male. This song represents several different criticism of the predisposed category of female sexuality in heteronormativity. Despite the enticement behind the repeated motif of “missed me, missed me, now you got to kiss me,” the only individual punished is the male. The symbolic position of the male in the song is emblematic the hegemonic construction of female passive sexuality that prevents women from inhabiting the position of sexual aggressor. In some ways this song bears some resemblance to Lowe’s discussion of her focus groups response to Spears’

“… Baby One More Time” in that the narrator is symbolically linked to the singer, is female, and the narrator is seeking a man to pursue her sexually. The point of divergence is on the nature of

“Missed Me’s” demand whereas Lowe’s focus group associates Spears’ song with “begging.”

(2003: 135) Palmer’s narrator is demanding and seductive, symbolized in the vocals and the piano. With each repeat of “missed me” the Palmer alternates between bass and treble chords focusing on staccato accents. Moving into the second part of the phrase, the “now you got to kiss me,” the staccato alternation is replaced by a muddied exaggerated turn in the treble clef. This symbolic associates a dichotomous identity to the narrator who simultaneously is built to percussive staccato beats and an ugly muddled turn. This is further developed during the shift in vocal pantomime from soft and innocent of “just like any girl would be” to anger and dangerous for “treat me delicately.”

The overall playfulness in the Palmer’s vocal style, echoing the dichotomy of the piano rhythm along with several screams and screeches symbolize the descent into madness as well as suggest a satirical reading of the song. “Mister’s” guilt hinges on the societal expectation that women remain objects of male desire, where women are refused the agency of their own sexuality. The female narrator is well aware of her ability to control the male subject through ironically presenting herself in terms of hegemonic constructions of femininity as “fragile” and deserving delicate treatment. By playing the naïve girl, the narrator seduces the object of her desirous obsession, and knowing of her incapability at keep him, gets him locked up where she can “kiss him through the window,” but only if he “misses” her. The issue at the heart of the song is the lack of agency afforded the narrator in terms of sexuality. She remains seen as passive and uses that to entrap the object of her obsessive desire.

Bitter Ruin is the project of Brighton residents Georgia Train and Benjamin Richards.

Richards plays acoustic guitar and both he and Train share vocal duty. Their sound is reminiscent of Fiona Apple, with predominant stylizations of jazz and Spanish guitar and jazz vocals. They provide an oeuvre featuring heterosexual relationship angst. Rather than developing their narratives along a one-way trajectory of angst and violence, by sharing vocal duty with interwoven lyrics they construct the relationships in their narratives as equally destructive. Thus,

Richards and Train are symbolically constructing equal agency to violence and victimhood between men and women.

Their debut album, “We’re Not Dancing,” released in 2008, which included the song

“Beware.” They released a music video of “Beware” in November 2009. The video constructed a narrative in which Train and Richards kill each other, the confrontation playing out in flashback form while the room is filled with forensic and police officers. As is common in Bitter

Ruin’s compositional style, it features verses song by each Richards and Train in turn. While the meaning of the lyrical text is rather obscured and unobvious, the video brings significant contextual narrative links to the story being told through the lyrics. The lyrics suggest a difficult relationship between two lovers, heterosexualized by the use of pronouns, but the experience is shared between Train and Richards. They both sing of the sharp defenses of the other that cause their own defenses to unravel. Similarly, they both vocalize warnings that “if you’re gonna get involved with him/her then tread with care.” Without the video, we can only assume a mutual break-up and both warning others from future relationships with the others. However, the video extends an interesting paradigm with which to understand and interpret the danger implicit with

Bitter Ruin’s portrayal of female sexuality.

Train’s femininity is highlighted in the all black flowery laced dress, her long hair, and make up. The first image we get of Train’s character alive, as she starts off in the video dead on the couch is of close up of her on the phone. Our eyes are drawn to the red nail polish, shiny red lipstick, blond hair, and black phone. The phone and lipstick provide a significant link to stereotypical portrayals of morally ambiguous women in film noir. This is compounded by the fact that the cut immediately preceding this shot is of Richards pouring poison into a glass of red wine. Immediately following the shot of Train on the phone the camera cuts to a shot further away, positioning Train in the far right of the frame so we can watch Richards walk up behind her to strangle her with the phone. This display of masculine strength is quickly destroyed as

Train first stabs his neck with scissors and then kills him with a fireplace shovel. Rather than killing Train with superior strength, Richards is overpowered and Train’s death only occurs because of the poisoned wine. On just about every procedural cop drama, poison is constructed as a feminine weapon. Richards only triumph over Train is poison.

“Beware” ultimately constructs a mutually destructive relationship. Lyrically and narratively, neither Richards nor Train are portrayed as justified. The role of the investigators establish the outcome as more tragic, which is aided by the appearance of Train and Richards as both innocently peaceful, without the grimaces or smirks that marked the appearances in the flashbacks. Furthermore, they are placed side by side on a white sheet and the camera focuses on their hands touching. Thus the overall image of the video and song is of mutual tragedy. The lyrics construct each of them as dangerous. However, by having Richards sing first, stating the danger of getting involved with Train’s character and how Train’s character physically overpowers him, we are presented with a compensated danger in Train’s performance of violence, which is necessary to fully equalize them in a societal context where women are largely withheld from the agency of physical violence. The question is the portrayal of sexuality. Within the oeuvre of Bitter Ruin, all of their songs feature some sort of construction of sexuality simply from the subject matter and the presence of the heterosexual pairing of Train and Richards. So while “Beware” privileges a portrayal of violence over sex, the failed relationship is always present. In the fantastically violent end of their heterosexual partnership, Train proves to be more powerful, an iconic symbol that is shared through femme fatale characters, and is also represented in the performance style of Marcella Puppini of Marcella and the Forget-Me-Nots.

Marcella and the Forget-Me-Nots are a five piece outfit made up of four women and one male. The instrumentation includes drums, guitar, bass, clarinet/bass clarinet, and occasionally piano. They are led by Marcella Puppini who sings lead vocals, writing, and arranging the songs.

Based in London, their first full length album “Born Beautiful” was released in 2011 and a previous EP “Monster Mae” in 2010. Puppini, who previously received accolades for her part in the Puppini Sisters, a close harmony trio singing standards and songs inspire by 1940’s style music. In communication with Puppini via Facebook, she revealed that she no longer saw herself within the cabaret scene, specifying her work with the Forget-Me-Nots, but still maintains ties to the scene.

They performed a brief half-hour sex at the Blues Kitchen, a BBQ based blues bar two blocks south of the Camden Town Tube Station in London. Two-thirds of the bar were dedicated to waited tables with the remaining third consisting of small bar tables near the small stage. The stage was smaller than most bar stages I have seen, however it is roughly the same size as the

Vic, a pub they played a week and a half after Blues Kitchen. They played third, following two single middle-age male blues guitarists and a crowd drawing ‘70’s acid rock style group, also male. The crowd density significantly emptied as Marcella and the Forget-Me-Nots took to the stage. Aside from musically Marcella and the FMN drew a significantly varied crowd by the end, distinct from the drunken shenanigans that marked their stage predecessors. The thirty odd individuals were roughly half male and half female, ranging age probably from eighteen to fifty.

On stage, Marcella and the FMN were all dressed differently, but managed a thematic cohesion of dark blacks, tight fits, leather, sequins, and militarist motifs. When they started playing, I really did not know what to expect. My first encounter with Marcella and the FMN was when I started research the dark cabaret scene acts in London. I had seen the work of the former FMN formation on YouTube, but there were not recent videos posted. This was also my first time attending a pub stage performance.

Performing, Puppini revealed her inability to remain still, even while latching on to the microphone stand. She alternates between compressed movements and explosive gestures. When she is not singing she is usually dancing. Alone on stage, her performance would still be seething with the morally ambiguous femme fatale allegiance. Here enters an interesting performative dynamic with the FMN’s bassist Pato Vidal. One of the understood goals of bass in music is to hold the group together. Vidal’s performance draws the whole of the group together (of those that can be reached). Ping Lee, the guitarist, was situated stage right, with Vidal in between him and Puppini, with Kati May, the clarinetist behind and between Puppini and Vidal. Due to the stage set up, Amy Kelly was mostly obscured for the whole of the performance behind the drums in the far back corner of the stage. Vidal’s stage travel united Puppini, Lee, and May in a highly ambiguous performance. She plays with an aggressive stance, playing the bass left handed resting the body on the side of her left hip, which pushes the neck perpendicular with the stage and pointed straight at us. The dark taboo of their clothing aesthetics construct this wonderfully intriguing construction of female sexuality, rejoicing in the grotesqueries of it all. The simply joy with Marcella and the FMN’s performance of “Monster Mae” is overwhelmingly subversive.

“Monster Mae” is the story of a country girl who moves to the city to achieve the big dream, seduces a man, but fails to achieve stardom and winds up killing her “sugar daddy.” The song essentially combines the playfulness of Amanda Palmer’s exaggerated turns of “Missed

Me” with the violent energy of Bitter Ruin’s “Beware,” firmly uniting the portrayal of obsessed desire, violence, and sexuality. However, “Monster Mae” is but one style of song and performance. The spontaneity of bizarre joy can quickly transfer to more subdued performances.

As Puppini attests to on the FMN’s website, the group is marked by spontaneity, moving from story to story and from inspiration to inspiration. This constant evolution prevents the reins of genre demand and identification from attempting to capitalize on any specific construction of sound or form. “The critical potential of music resides in the extent to which it resists commodification… Hence, critique of music’s commodity character occurs through musical resistance to material form.” (Dibben, 1999: 351) Not only do Marcella and the FMN actively resist form between songs, the original alliance and divorce from cabaret, represents a resistance to popular music forms.

Cabaret, particularly the reimaging of Weimer Era cabaret, has represented an exceedingly ideal site of inspiration for contemporary alternatives for feminine sexual performance in music. The role of the femme fatale, inhabited particularly in Amanda Palmer of the Dresden Dolls, Georgia Train of Bitter Ruin, and the whole of Marcella and the Forget-Me- Nots, represents a resistance to patriarchal constructions of acceptable female sexuality, which depends on the construction of either saint or slut, or simultaneously both. With the explicit nature of female sexuality in popular music, what Meredith Levande overwhelming linked to the proliferation of pornography, they actively serve to become passive objects of the male gaze and simultaneously provide role models for burgeoning third and fourth-wave feminists. (Levande,

2008) While women in alternative and independent rock bands remain significant and inherently subversive with their appropriation of typically masculine instruments and performances, there is little explicit links to sexuality, failing to engage alternative culture as critical of mainstream culture. They simply provide an alternative role model and future avenue. By performing as highly heterosexualized musicians the groups this paper analyzed, draw notice to the instabilities of heteronormativity in restricting feminine sexuality. While Palmer and Puppini’s performances are tinged with ambiguous sexuality, despite the text of the songs, Bitter Ruin engrains a heterosexual narrative. However, despite portrayal of heterosexuality, the sexuality of Bitter

Ruin is not of normative nature, but one that reveals and counteracts it. Train’s representation of sexuality as equally accessible to violent expression as Richards subverts both the passive sexuality of Spears and pop music performance and society’s withholding female sexual agency.

The question is whether, like the riot grrrls, the irony of their performances is read by their audiences. I believe it is. One of the aspects of counter-culture and sub-cultures is the people who know, know, and the people who do not know, will never know. The one weakness behind their performances is the nature of the genre as fringe, firmly outside of the frame of even most alternative musical expression. Many people have heard of Tori Amos, Alanis Morissette, and Fiona Apple, but very few are familiar with Amanda Palmer, even after her skyrocket in popularity following Coin-Operated Boy. The importance, however, is not in who knows, but in the mere existence of an alternative that is quickly accessible with the rise of internet, which ensures that these images of female sexuality outside of the typified frame of male objectification of women are always available.

Bibliography Beware. 2009. [Film] Directed by Mark Withers. s.l.: s.n.

Butler, J., 1988. Performative Acts and Gender Consitution: An Essay in Phenomenology and Feminist Theory. Theatre Journal, 40(4), pp. 519-531.

Dibben, N., 1999. Representations of femininity in popular music. Popular Music, 18(3), pp. 331-335.

Levande, M., 2008. Women, Pop Music, and Pornography. Meridians, 8(1), pp. 293-321.

Lidington, T., 1987. New Terms for Old Turns: the Rise of Alternative Cabaret. New

Theater Quarterly, 3(10), pp. 107-119.

Lowe, M., 2003. Colliding Feminisms: Britney Spears, "Tweens," and the Politics of

Reception. Popular Music and Society, 26(2), pp. 123-140.

McCarthy, K., 2006. Not Pretty Girls?: Sexuality, Spirituality, and Gender Construction in Women's Rock Music. The Journal of Popular Culture, 39(1), pp. 69-94.

Mizejewski, L., 1987. Women, Monsters, and the Masochistic Aesthetic in Fosse's

Cabaret. Journal of Film and Video, 39(4), pp. 5-17.

Palmer, A., 2002. Missed Me. Puppini, M., 2012. Marcella & the Forget Me Nots. [Online]

Available at: http://www.marcellaandtheforgetmenots.com/bios

[Accessed April 2012].