486. Joyous Queerdom

                            Joyous Queerdom

                                                                  #cliffbrowderbooks

Consider this scene, which has just come to my attention:

• Aerialists swinging upside down in the neon-colored air high above hundreds of enthralled partygoers;
• Glittering go-go dancers spinning in cages high above a crowded dance floor that pulsates to booming disco;
• Drag queens with flaring pink or platinum blond hair performing as pole dancers, fire breathers, stilt walkers, and clowns;
• A chaotic energy infusing performers and audience alike and proclaiming to the world that this scene of total freedom welcomes everyone.

Coney Island and the circus slammed together in a gay discotheque?  No, not really.  Or Bedlam mixed with Bellevue on a dance floor?  Wrong again.

So what is -- or was -- it?  The House of Yes, an evolved hippie/punk scene that became, pre-pandemic, a hugely successful slice of queer New York nightlife in a hangar-like space in a former industrial stretch of Bushwick, Brooklyn.  It was wild, it was crazy, it was stupendously and noisily creative, as only New York can be.

And today?  Zilch.  It was closed down by the city in March, as COVID-19 spread.  In July it reopened as a ghost of itself, serving food and drinks outside.  Then in August it was closed again because of violations of the state's mandate that food be served with every drink order.  Since then its creators have offered virtual dance parties and remote classes taught by resident performers, but whether it will ever be revived as the chaotic pre-pandemic scene of yore is problematic.

The House of Yes: the title intrigues me.  The word "no" in English has far more resonance than "yes," with its tail-end sibilant, but this "yes" was surely saying to the world that in this precious space everyone was welcome, and the weirder and wilder the better.  It reminds me of the triumphant "yes" of Mollie Bloom at the end of Joyce's Ulysses, a yea-saying that is far more than an acceptance of Leopold Bloom's proposal of marriage.  Mollie is saying "yes" to life, to the world: an upbeat ending to a masterpiece that might otherwise, in its totality,  seem depressing.

So if the House of Yes ever revives, will I go there?  Of course not.  My taste for wildness dates back to my younger days; I'm in a mood now for sanity and serenity, for reflection and calm.  Did I ever dance wildly?  You bet!  Long ago at the Goldbug in the West Village, where you had to get past a Mafia gatekeeper to immerse yourself in the deafening music and crowded strobe-lit dance floor where conversation was unthinkable; all you could do was dance, and believe me, it wasn't a waltz.  Long, long ago.

But I hope the House of Yes does in time revive, with all the wildness and weirdness of its former days.  They were an explosion of creativity and a fountain of joy.  I wish them vast success.

Source note: This post was inspired by Julia Carmel's article "Pining for a Brooklyn Club's Comeback," in the Metropolitan section of the  New York Times of Sunday, November 8, 2020.  The article is richly illustrated.

©  2020  Clifford Browder