The Darvish stands as a vibrant testament to the power of self-expression and the pursuit of authenticity in Berlin's rich tapestry of cultures and identities. A queer Syrian who has transcended the conventional binaries of gender, The Darvish's journey from his homeland to the bustling, open-minded streets of Berlin is a narrative of courage, discovery, and artistic flourish. At 20, he left his family behind, seeking not just education in Germany but a space where he could truly be himself—beyond being just a man or a woman. Berlin welcomed him with the promise of freedom and the opportunity to explore his identity further, both personally and through the expressive art of belly dancing.
Belly dancing became The Darvish's medium of choice almost serendipitously, evolving from dancing at clubs and queer parties into a public celebration of his heritage and identity, encouraged by friends who saw his potential. Now, he graces stages as a solo dancer, performer, and ensemble member, with notable appearances such as the Phoenix from a Strange World in the premiere of "New Songs from Earth" at the Neukölln Opera. For The Darvish, Raqs Sharqi is more than dance; it is a home for his artistic expression, where he can "look to be the person you are - and have a lot of fun with it." His performances, costumes, and makeup serve as both entertainment and a visible stand for the LGBTQI+ community's concerns, showcasing the complexity and diversity inherent in every individual.
The Darvish's approach to costume and appearance reflects his journey toward self-discovery and authenticity. Traditional gender-specific costumes felt restrictive, prompting him to explore and create outfits that resonated with his identity and artistic vision. Whether donning a classic Dervish plate skirt, a jumpsuit adorned with beads, or a belly dance costume with chest jewellery, The Darvish pairs his attire with makeup and tattoos, sometimes choosing glitter high heels or silver overknees, but always incorporating long earrings and a fez (Tarboush in Arabic) into his dance outfit. Through his art, he embraces and showcases the beauty and diversity of Middle Eastern and North African cultures, deliberately moving away from colonial terms and towards a celebration of his heritage.
Six years of dance and activism have not only bolstered The Darvish's confidence but have also positioned him as a beacon of hope for those without a voice. His commitment to visibility and advocacy extends beyond personal achievement to the broader concerns of the queer refugee community in Berlin. Performing at significant venues like the Berlin CSD, The Pergamon Museum and Institut Du Monde Arabe, and co-organizing the Queens Against Borders events for Trans/Queer Refugees, The Darvish remains dedicated to supporting and uplifting those who, like him, seek a place where they can unabashedly be themselves. His story is a powerful reminder of the transformative potential of art and the enduring strength of the human spirit in the face of adversity.
Stefan Gunnesch’s artistry is vividly showcased through his series of collages, which can be appreciated both as a cohesive collection and as individual masterpieces. These works are a harmonious blend of diverse materials, shapes, and colors, eloquently conveying the complexity of the human body, its abstraction, and the uniqueness of individual identity. Gunnesch employs abstraction to dismantle stereotypes and societal perceptions, guiding the viewer to recognize the intrinsic beauty and individuality of every body, irrespective of gender, sexual orientation, or skin color. His collages are a celebration of queerness and diversity, utilizing both soft and vibrant hues, fluid forms, and playful arrangements to exalt the queer experience. Meanwhile, the use of stark contrasts and pronounced fragmentation in some pieces poignantly addresses the challenges faced by the LGBTQIA+ community, making Gunnesch’s work a profound exploration of self-discovery and a reflective mirror on personal identity.
خيوط من الهوية: رحلة الفنانين الكويرين من منطقتي جنوب غرب آسيا وشمال أفريقيا في برشلونة
Despite Queerness always existing as an essential aspect of human identity, the experiences surrounding queerness differ depending on the geography and history in which a queer person is born. The challenges that come with being queer in the SWANA region (South-West Asia and North Africa), or what is often referred to as the Arab World, are endlessly webbed with threads constructed from a past rich with both glorious and disappointing events to a present limited by traditions, religion, politics, and socioeconomic chains. On these entangled threads, Queer artists from the SWANA region always joined the camp for individual liberties; each in their own way scratching and even tearing the web through their art. Here are mine and four stories of SWANA Artists in Barcelona out of many.
على الرغم من أن الكويرية كانت دائماً جزءاً أساسياً من الهوية البشرية إلا أن التجارب المحيطة بالهوية الكويرية تختلف باختلاف الجغرافيا والتاريخ الذي يولد فيها المغايرين جنسيًا، حيث تتشابك التحديات التي يواجهونها في منطقتي الشرق الأوسط وشمال أفريقيا بخيوط معقدة مصنوعة من ماضٍ غني بالأحداث المجيدة والمخيبة للآمال وحاضر محدود بالتقاليد والدين والقيود السياسية والاقتصادية. على هذه الشبكة دائماً ما ينضم المبدعين من الكويريين إلى معسكر الحريات الفردية لكسر هذه القيود من خلال أعمالهم. في هذا المقال سنتطرق إلى قصتي وقصص أربعة مبدعين من منطقتي الشرق الأوسط وشمال أفريقيا ومقيمين في مدينة برشلونة الإسبانية
Hadi is a filmmaker, photographer, and performer from Tripoli, Lebanon. His ultra persona is also a known figure for queer Arabs that live in Barcelona. However, before the birth of the famously face-covered Salma Zahore, Hadi co-founded the production company H7O7 for all kinds of film and photos where their work is either commercial for their clients or personal where he expresses himself artistically. He considers himself to be an Artivist against injustices, where he mixes art and activism to battle racism and queerphobia. In his hybrid films, as he refers to them, he blends genres such as documentary, fashion, dance, and experimental in order to talk about what’s happening today.
Hadi’s ethnic identity wasn’t expressed much up until arriving in France. “At the beginning of my life in the West, I tried to distance myself from my Lebanese and Arab culture to prove myself to Western society,” Hadi said before explaining how his mindset changed when he started accepting his identity and cherishing it before his queerness and culture took center stage in the fabulous belly-dance vogue performances of his persona Salma.
Hadi’s work is focused on visibility, especially on social media, to bring queer Arab representation under the spotlight and change how queer people see themselves and how hetero-normative societies view queerness.
In his words, “The world outside of one’s self or community can be both cruel and beautiful,” consequently elaborating on why a community that uplifts one another comes in handy for Hadi.
هادي؛ الناشط الفني
هادي هو مخرج أفلام ومصور فوتوغرافي ومؤدٍ من مدينة طرابلس في لبنان. الشخصية الفنية التي خلقها هادي، والمعروفة بسلمى زهور هي من مشاهير المجتمع الكويري العربي في مدينة برشلونة والمعروفة بوجهها المغطى ولباسها التقليدي. قبل ولادة سلمى، شارك هادي في تأسيس شركة H7O7 الإنتاجية حيث يتم صنع جميع أنواع الأفلام والصور إما لأسباب تجارية لزبائنه أو لأسبابٍ شخصية كوسيلةٍ للتعبير عن نفسه فنياً
يعتبر هادي نفسه فناناً ناشطاً ضد الظلم بجميع أشكاله، حيث يدمج الفن والنشاط السياسي لمحاربة العنصرية وفوبيا المجتمع ضد الكويرين. في أفلامه المختلطة كما يشير إليها، يمزج هادي بين الوثائقية والأزياء والرقص للحديث بشكل فني عمّا يحدث اليوم حول العالم. في حديثنا عن أهمية هويته العربية، أوضح هادي قائلاً "في بداية حياتي في الغرب، ظننت أني سأستطيع إثبات نفسي للمجتمع الفرنسي إذا ابعدت عن ثقافتي اللبنانية والعربية." وكان ذلك قبل أن يبدأ تفكيره بالتغير بعد البدء برحلته في حب الذات وجميع ما تشمله من هوية ثقافية، عرقية، أو جنسية والذي يظهر بوضوح في عروض شخصيته الفنية سلمى المشهورة بدمج الرقص الشرقي مع فن الفوغ.
يركز هادي في عمله على أهمية وسائل التواصل الاجتماعي في إلقاء الضوء على المجتمع الكويري العربي وتأثير هكذا تمثيل على كيفية تقبل الأفراد الكويرين أنفسهم وتغيير نظرة المجتمعات التقليدية لهؤلاء الأفراد. يقول هادي في أهمية دعم الكويرين لبعضهم البعض: "العالم خارج الذات والمجتمع يمكن أن يكون قاسياً وجميلاً في الوقت نفسه، ووقوفنا مع أخوتنا يرجح كفة السعادة في وجه قسوة الحياة."
Shame | عيب
In the 19th century, in the Levant region, Salma Zahore, along with her parents and neighbors, participated in a photoshoot using a long exposure technique. At the end of it, Salma decided to take off her coat, revealing her body. Unaware of the chaos this gesture could cause within her circle, she did not know it could lead to shame (عيب).
In this film, titled "عيب (Shame)", the complex concept of shame is explored within the context of Arab culture, specifically focusing on its impact on societal norms, gender roles, and expressions of identity. The word "Shame" (عيب) is commonly used in the Arab world to dictate a social norm not to be transgressed in various situations, so much so that shame is ever-present in our surroundings.
Set against a backdrop of recreated 19th-century scenes from the Levant region, the film is made in a vertical (9:16) format to respect the aspect ratio of photos from that era, adding authenticity to the narrative. It also introduces a modern and queer perspective, challenging traditional narratives and expectations.
The story revolves around Salma Zahore, who embodies different personas representing various societal roles and expectations. Through Salma's interactions with herself as well as with neighbors and family members, the film delves into the rigid boundaries dictated by the concept of "عيب" and the consequences of challenging these norms.
The use of AI-transformed voices adds a surreal and futuristic element to the narrative, emphasizing the timeless relevance of the themes explored. As Salma sheds layers, both metaphorically and literally, revealing her true self, societal reactions escalate into unnecessary drama, highlighting the tendency to amplify minor transgressions in the name of shame.
Through this artistic exploration, the film prompts viewers to reconsider their understanding of shame, societal expectations, and the evolving nature of cultural identities. It challenges the notion of shame as a tool for social control while celebrating individuality and the diverse expressions of human identity.
Awards & Festivals : Since it’s release in September 2024, already 2 awards « Best international dance film » in Choreoscope 2024 & « Honorable mention » in Bucharest dance film festival 2024. The film is also already selected in more than 10 festivals.
CACAO
Hadi is introducing his new short film project, Cacao, which follows the story of a captivating woman and her friend, both named Cacao. The film explores the unexpected turns in life—how we can feel fully in control, only to find ourselves in a challenging situation. As an independent artist, Hadi often faces budget constraints, so he has launched a fundraising campaign to support this project.
Ashtar is a motion designer and illustrator from Homs, Syria. I met her after she relocated to Barcelona from Russia where she lived for a few years after leaving Syria. When asked about the inspiration behind her work, she highlighted the concept of Sharaf, meaning honor in Arabic, as her main fight for the time being. “Women in our region are culturally imprisoned since birth due to the body in which they are born, on where the ‘honor’ of the family hangs,” Ashtar said. However, expressing queerness in her artwork seems like a wall to break in the future since her fight now is aimed at the liberation of women from societal chains.
Ashtar’s personal work also draws from her culture, influenced by Arabic poetry, including queer figures like Abu Al-Nawas, an ironic favorite of her parents. In our conversation, she also highlighted the misconception in our region that queerness is a Western import, despite its historical presence in that part of the world like any other.
Despite being in a safe space such as Barcelona where her asylum case is being processed, the burden of her family getting hurt, especially from their surroundings, still limits her from any public attempts to dismantle the societal taboos beyond the walls surrounding womanhood.
“I’m climbing the stairs step by step in order to reach the ultimate freedom I seek,” being the ability to express queerness freely through drawings or animation and being a visible role model for her community; something she lacked growing up as a queer woman in Syria.
عشتار؛ تالية القصص البصرية
عشتار هي مصممة حركة ورسامة من مدينة حمص السورية. التقيت بها بعد ما انتَقَلَت إلى برشلونة من روسيا حيث عاشت لبضع سنوات بعد مغادرتها سورية. عندما سُئلت عن الإلهام في عملها، أكدت عشتار على كون مفهوم "الشرف" معركتها الرئيسية في الوقت الحالي، قائلة "النساء في منطقتنا مسجونات اجتماعية وثقافياً بسبب الجسد الذي يولدن فيه، والذي لطالما يُربط بشرف عائلتهن." في حين أن التعبير عن الكويرية في عملها الفني هو حاجز يتوجب كسره لكن في المستقبل، نظراً لأولوية تحرير النساء من قيود المجتمع بالنسبة لها.
أعمال عشتار تستمد أيضا من ثقافتها وتأثرها بالشِعر العربي، بما في ذلك الشخصيات الكويرية من التاريخ العربي مثل أبو النواس. في حديثنا عنه، تعجبت عشتار من كون أبو النواس أحد الشعراء المفضلين عند والديها في حين تحفظهم على الكويرية بشكل عام، وأبرزت به المفهوم الخاطئ في منطقتنا عن كون الكويرية استيراد من الغرب على الرغم من وجودها التاريخي في تلك البقعة الجغرافية كباقي بقع العالم.
على الرغم من وجود عشتار في مكان آمن مثل برشلونة حيث تتم معالجة طلبها للجوء، لا يزال عبء إيذاء عائلتها، خاصة من محيطهم، يحد من محاولاتها لتفكيك التابوهات الاجتماعية خارج جدران النسوية، وقالت "أُحاول تسلق السلالم خطوةً خطوة حتى الوصول إلى الحرية التي أسعى إليها." في إشارة إلى الحرية للتعبير عن الكويرية والنسوية من خلال رسوماتها وفنها لتكون نموذجاً يحتذى به في مجتمعها، وهو الشيء الذي فقدته أثناء نشأتها كامرأة كويرية في سورية
KANO 4
Ashtar's journey of resilience and determination, from surviving a life-altering event to reclaiming her ability to walk and pursue her creative dreams, is a story of immense strength. Her latest project, KANO 4, is a powerful reflection of that journey. This documentary short film delves into her personal experiences and the obstacles she has overcome, offering a glimpse into the resilience of the human spirit.
Through KANO 4, Ashtar invites us into her world, where survival, art, and identity intertwine. To learn more about this inspiring story and watch the teaser, follow the link below and stay tuned to Ashtar’s social media for the full release.
Ash is a tattoo artist from Cairo, Egypt who blends queerness, culture, and activism into his unique designs. When asked about the impact of these three aspects on his art, he explained how viewing the world and its taboos through a queer lens significantly influences much of his creative work. He pointed out that one of his designs, featuring trans male and female bodies, was a fusion of his appreciation for the artistic beauty of trans bodies and his personal interest in the details of ancient Greek and Roman statues.
Another design we talked about, out of the many he has inked throughout his career, was the slur for Queer in Arabic. It was birthed out of his appreciation for Arabic calligraphy and the will to reclaim the power of such heavy and traumatizing words. “I grew up feeling alone as my queer peers in our region, and later being in a community that looks and feels like me made me realize how important representation is whether on personal or public levels,” Ash answered on where the urge to represent marginalized communities in his work comes from.
“When I moved to Europe, I felt how different it was to challenge societal norms here to back home and the impact of what we do back home or in the diaspora on our region. There’s a certain power to what we SWANA artists do that cannot be described in words. In a way, everything I do here is for my people back home.”
آش: الوشّام ذو العدسة الكويرية
آش هو فنان وشم من القاهرة في مصر، يمزج بين التعدد الجنسي والثقافة والنشاط السياسي في تصاميمه الفريدة. عندما سُئل عن تأثير هذه الجوانب الثلاثة على فنه، شرح كيف أن رؤية العالم وتابوهاته من خلال عدسة التعدد الجنسي تؤثر بشكل كبير على الكثير من أعماله الإبداعية. أشار إلى أن إحدى تصميماته كانت مزيجاً من تقديره للجمال الفني لأجساد الأشخاص العابرين جنسيا واهتمامه الشخصي بتفاصيل التماثيل اليونانية والرومانية القديمة.
ناقشنا تصميماً آخر، من بين العديد من التصاميم التي قام بوشمها طوال مسيرته، وهو تصميم عن كلمة تستخدم في المجتمعات العربية للإساءة للكويريين. وُلد هذا التصميم من تقديره لجمال الخط العربي ورغبته في استعادة القوة من هكذا كلمات ثقيلة ومؤلمة.
عند سؤاله، أجاب آش عن دافعه لتمثيل المجتمعات المهمشة في عمله: "شعرت بصغري بالوحدة كما جميعنا في منطقتنا لكن وجودي لاحقاً في مجتمع يشبهني جعلني أدرك مدى أهمية التمثيل سواء على المستوى الشخصي أو العام". "عندما انتقلت إلى أوروبا، شعرت بالفارق في التحدي للمعايير الاجتماعية هنا مقارنة بالوطن، وبتأثير ما نقوم به سواء في الوطن أو في الشتات على منطقتنا. هناك قوة معينة فيما نقوم به نحن فنانو الشرق الأوسط وشمال أفريقيا لا يمكن وصفها بالكلمات. بطريقة ما، كل ما أفعله هنا هو لأهلي في الوطن
Takhnis
⚲ Sala taro : Barcelona. Carrer de Rossend Arús, 9, Sants-Montjuïc, 08014 Barcelona, Spain
Queer Arab night aiming to provide safe space for individuals from the MENA region with nostalgic tunes from the late 90's / 2000's (millennials)
Music : Arab pop / shaabi / Mahraganat
Vibe : oriental cabaret
About Ash and Takhnis
Ash, also known as ashtattz, is a queer tattoo artist from Egypt. He recently began to DJ, debuting his sets at the ICONIQA art book launch events in both Barcelona and Berlin. He’s launching a new event called Takhnis, set to launch on October 25.
Ash's desire to create Takhnis stems from a journey of self-discovery that began in the Middle East. Music played a vital role in Ash's experience of queerness, serving as a cherished escape where they could express their true self. With this in mind, Ash aims to provide a queer-welcoming, safer space for Arabs to celebrate their identities through the same music they grew up listening to. The intention is to recreate that nostalgic feeling that many in the community miss from back home.
The word "Takhnis" has a rich yet uncommon history. It is derived from the older Arabic term “khanis,” which has historically described feminine behavior in a man, bearing a resemblance to the word "faggot." However, the queer community has reclaimed this term, now using it with pride. In this context, the literal meaning could be interpreted as “faggoting.”
As for whether Takhnis is exclusively for queer Arabs, Ash is clear: "Obviously not! Everyone is welcome here as long as they respect each other's spaces and understand that they are stepping into a queer environment." Ash emphasizes that Arabic music is meant to be enjoyed together; it’s all about celebrating with others. One of the most famous Arabic dance moves, “dabke,” illustrates this communal spirit, as it requires a minimum of three people to begin the dance. Ash invites everyone to join the celebration, reminding them that the dance floor is a healing space that deserves respect.
In the ever-evolving landscape of queer culture, there exists a performer who defies the traditional confines of gender norms with an audacious blend of artistry and activism. Born in Argentina and currently captivating audiences in Barcelona, Spain, Beltran stands as a beacon of self-expression and inclusivity. Through his work, both online and off, Beltran has become a vocal advocate for the LGBTQ+ community, using his platform to spotlight issues of diversity and acceptance. His activism extends beyond the digital domain, making tangible impacts through various initiatives and serving as a spokesperson for causes close to his heart.
Beltran's performance art is a mesmerizing spectacle, weaving together the dynamism of voguing, the allure of go-go dancing, and the transformative power of drag, all while cloaked in aesthetics that range from bubblegum and kawaii to sport fetish and kinkwear. Central to his persona is the color pink, a bold declaration of his nuanced embrace of femininity, alongside influences from space punk and cowboy aesthetics, and a fondness for teddy bears and Care Bears. This rich tapestry of influences serves not only as an artistic statement but as a profound challenge to the expectations traditionally associated with bodies like his.
At the core of Beltran's mission is a celebration of identity that transcends binary gender norms. His performances are acts of defiance, celebrating his fat, fabulous, and femme identity, particularly in spaces like bear events where he embodies a spirit of barrier-breaking joy. Through his art, Beltran engages in a dialogue with his audience about gender and societal norms, challenging them to rethink and reimagine what is possible. Beltran's story is a vivid reminder of the transformative power of self-expression in the quest for a more inclusive society, where every performance is a rebellion and every act of artistry is a step towards acceptance.
En el escenario de la escena drag española, Sagittaria emerge como una estrella cuyo resplandor va más allá de su espectáculo impactante. En nuestra exclusiva entrevista desde Barcelona, España, Sagittaria comparte sus reflexiones y experiencias desde su vida después de ser finalista en la primera temporada de RuPaul's Drag Race España, hasta su papel como headliner en la newest hit party in town: ICONIQA.
Sagittaria atribuye sus inicios en el drag al escenario internacional de Werq the World, donde divas como Alyssa Edwards y Valentina la cautivaron desde la audiencia. "Verlas en persona me hizo darme cuenta de su humanidad, y pensé, coño, tal vez yo también pueda hacerlo", comparte con una chispa de emoción en sus ojos. El nombre Sagittaria, un juego entre su ascendente en Sagitario, y Aquaria, la ganadora de RuPaul's Drag Race 2018, revela su búsqueda de singularidad basada en múltiples fuentes de inspiración y referencias que maneja y combina a su propio estilo.
Su conexión inspiracional con la moda europea (parisina, italiana, entre otras), compartida con las reinas estadounidenses, resalta su estética bastante única para la región. "No es que sea inspiración en la moda de las drag queens americanas, es que ellas y yo compartimos una fuente de inspiración en común", revela mientras explora la diversidad del drag en España, que tiene otras facciones o tendencias de mayor peso, pero para ella esta es la inspiración estética principal.
A medida que Sagittaria se transforma, su proceso drag se convierte en un viaje terapéutico. "Con cada paso, te sientes mejor, y tu alter ego, lo que no dejas salir en el día a día, emerge progresivamente", describe, destacando la liberación y la expresión personal que encuentra en su arte. “Te pones la base y dices ‘meh’, te pones las cejas y es un ‘OK, es drag’, luego la peluca y te ves y dices ‘WAO, se viene’”. A pesar de la intensidad de la profesión, Sagittaria celebra el drag como una forma de libertad. Si tuviera que definir su drag en una sola palabra, sería espectáculo.
“el drag es sorprender de alguna manera, ya sea visual o cualquiera. Sagittaria es mi hiperfeminización —no soy un chico masculino ni lo quiero ser pero lo que hago con el personaje de Sagittaria es llevarlo al mega extremo”.
Sagittaria aprovecha para destacar la falta de reconocimiento y pago para les artistas drag locales en España. "Le falta más impulso, no pagan suficiente a las locales", lamenta. Su participación en El Gran Hotel de las Reinas, una experiencia transformadora, reveló la demanda subestimada en la comunidad. Llenando un estadio en Madrid con alrededor de 4.000 personas, Sagittaria descubrió la importancia de la visibilidad y la subestimación de los números de la comunidad queer. "No sabíamos cuánta gente iba a moverse", comparte con asombro. Esta experiencia le mostró no solo la magnitud de la demanda, sino también la necesidad de reconocimiento y valoración para les artistas locales, y que “subestimamos nuestros propios números”. En este sentido, destaca el rol de la nueva fiesta ICONIQA en impulsar el talento local, dándoles un escenario compartido con estrellas globales como Gottmik y Violet Chachki.
Detrás del deslumbrante personaje de Sagittaria, se encuentra Iván, una persona que equilibra su vida drag con la realidad cotidiana. Con una carrera en óptica y una vida plena en Barcelona con su novio, padres y amigos, Iván demuestra que el drag es una faceta de su vida, y su pasión, pero no su totalidad. Es de notar que su carrera alterna es necesaria para subvencionar una profesión que exige tanta inversión como el drag, ya sea en vestuario, maquillaje, producción, etc.
Ambiciosa y visionaria, Sagittaria revela sus planes futuros de llegar a audiencias más amplias. "Quiero estar donde estoy pero tener la oportunidad de hacer cosas un poco más grandes", confiesa. Sueña con incursionar en anuncios y publicidad mainstream, expandiendo las fronteras del drag a nuevos horizontes.
Sagittaria cierra nuestra entrevista enviando un mensaje de apoyo a aquelles que pueden sentirse solitaries o confundides en su identidad:
“Me encantaría que, si pueden, tengan el valor y vengan a fiestas queers y se lo pasen bien. Incluso por un día, que lo intenten y entenderán que hay un mundo muy guay donde no tienes que depender de la opinión de la gente. Una vez conoces ese mundo y lo accepting que es, te da un impulso para alejarte de la heteronormatividad y acercarte a tu realidad plena”.
On the stage of the Spanish drag scene, Sagittaria emerges as a star whose radiance transcends her dazzling performance. In our exclusive interview from Barcelona, Spain, Sagittaria shares her reflections and experiences from life after being a finalist in the first season of RuPaul's Drag Race Spain, to her role as the headliner at the newest hit party in town: ICONIQA.
Sagittaria attributes her beginnings in drag to the international stage of Werq the World, where divas like Alyssa Edwards and Valentina captivated her from the audience. "Seeing them in person made me realize their humanity, and I thought, damn, maybe I can do this too," she shares with a spark of excitement in her eyes. The name Sagittaria, a play between her Sagittarius ascendant, and Aquaria, the winner of RuPaul's Drag Race 2018, reveals her quest for uniqueness based on multiple sources of inspiration and references that she handles and combines in her own style.
Her inspirational connection to European fashion (Parisian, Italian, among others), shared with American queens, highlights her rather unique aesthetic for the region. "It's not that it's inspiration from American drag queens; it's that they and I share a common source of inspiration," she reveals as she explores the diversity of drag in Spain, which has other prominent factions or trends, but for her, this is the primary aesthetic inspiration.
As Sagittaria transforms, her drag process becomes a therapeutic journey. "With each step, youfeel better, and your alter ego, what you don't let out in daily life, emerges progressively," she describes, emphasizing the liberation and personal expression she finds in her art. "You put on the foundation and say 'meh,' you put on the eyebrows and it's an 'OK, it's drag,' then the wig, and you see yourself and say 'WOW, here it comes.'" Despite the intensity of the profession, Sagittaria celebrates drag as a form of freedom. If she had to define her drag in one word, it would be spectacle.
"Drag is about surprising or shocking in some way, whether visually or otherwise. Sagittaria is my hyper-feminization — I'm not a masculine guy, and I don't want to be, but what I do with the Sagittaria character is take it to the ‘mega extreme.’"
Sagittaria takes the opportunity to highlight the lack of recognition and payment for local drag artists in Spain. "It lacks a stronger push; they don't pay enough, not even to the locals," she laments. Her participation in El Gran Hotel de las Reinas, a transformative experience, revealed the underestimated demand in the community. Filling a stadium in Madrid with around 4,000 people, Sagittaria discovered the importance of visibility and the underestimation of numbers in the queer community. "We didn't know how many people would move," she shares with astonishment. This experience showed her not only the magnitude of the demand but also the need for recognition and appreciation for local artists, stating that "we underestimate our own numbers." In this sense, she highlights the role of the new ICONIQA party in boosting local talent, giving them a stage shared with global stars like Gottmik and Violet Chachki.
Behind the dazzling character of Sagittaria, there is Iván, a person who balances his drag life with everyday reality. With a career as an optician and a fulfilling life in Barcelona with his boyfriend, parents, and friends, Iván demonstrates that drag is a facet of his life, and his passion, but not his totality. His alternate career is necessary to subsidize a profession that demands as much investment as drag does, whether in costumes, makeup, production, etc. Ambitious and visionary, Sagittaria reveals her future plans to reach broader audiences. "I want to be where I am but with the opportunity to do bigger things," she confesses. She dreams of venturing into mainstream advertisements and publicity, expanding the boundaries of drag to new horizons.
Sagittaria concludes our interview by sending a message of support to those who may feel lonely or confused in their identity:
"I would love for them, if they can, to muster the courage and come to queer arties, have a good time. Even for a day, try it, and you'll understand that there is a cool world where you don't have to worry about people's opinions. Once you know that world and how accepting it is, it gives you a boost to distance yourself from heteronormativity and approach your full reality."
Nat Vikitsreth, LCSW, DT, CEIM aka Crocodile Lightning (she/her) is a decolonized, licensed clinical and somatic psychotherapist, an international burlesque artist, transgender community organizer, and host of the Come Back to Care Podcast.
The future seems bleak.
Our history is actively being erased. Our existence criminalized. Our arts and healing co-opted. (And that’s just Tuesday.)
“Where do we go from here?” may be running through your mind on repeat.
This bleakness is real, and so this is my love letter to our despair and grief. But it’s also an invitation: an invitation for you and me to hope and heal together so we can stay in the struggle for liberation together a while longer.
Because the antidote to cynicism, heartbreak, and apathy may lie in “where we’ve been.”
Generations of LGBTQIA2S+ organizers have shown us that living and living fully is the best revenge against oppression from white supremacist, colonial, capitalist patriarchy.
The threats against our rights and liberation are real, and so I wholeheartedly honor what you’re doing to cope and survive. Yet, you and I both know that staying alive isn’t the same as living, let alone living fully. So, how do we live fully when we rarely feel safe?
In short, by tapping into our inner resources to step in and out of survival mode. We don’t have to be stuck in survival mode 100% of the time. It’s possible to both-and surviving and living so we can bring our whole fabulous selves to advocating for social change within our communities.
Simply put, when we fight for liberation, what we do to get to bed in one piece is as important as what we do to get out of bed the next morning.
And what gets me out of bed every morning are the inner resources I have to draw on. Some of these resources are coping strategies, like when I numb out my rage at all the anti-trans legislation by eating a bowl of ramen or watching five more reels of hamsters eating broccoli. And some of these resources are ancestral, specifically the love and support of my grandmother.
Since my mom and dad always worked day and night, my siblings and I grew up with our grandma in our family home in Bangkok, Thailand. I loved my grandma but I didn’t like her. I didn’t like a lot of people, to be honest…because I didn’t like myself. I was too deep in my head trying to figure out why my gender didn’t match my biological sex as a child. I felt so alone and angry trying to navigate my identity, my existence, and my purpose as a young adult. I was so busy not believing in myself that I believed no one believed in me. I had to hide my femininity until I told my parents in high school that I was transgender.But in the safety of my grandma’s room, I played dress up and did a runway walk for her in the 6th grade. I picked the outfits and she accessorized. Her slinky jersey blouse was the most luxurious thing on my skin. The drug store perfume she carefully spritzed on my wrists was heavenly.
In that room, I felt so free in my body when I closed my eyes and danced. My grandma clapped, heckled lovingly, and cheered me on. I felt so free because I didn’t have to hide my expressions or worry about being masculine or feminine.
I didn’t know at the time that she was witnessing all of who I was. It didn’t matter what I was gender-wise, I remember her loving gaze that told me I was the most beautiful thing in the world in her eyes.
Although remembering my grandmother’s unconditional love for me doesn’t make the anti-trans legislation disappear, drawing upon this inner ancestral resource helps me remember my own dignity which can never be legislated away. With an emotional cup that’s a little fuller and a nervous system that’s a bit more regulated, I can walk into the next school board meeting ready to advocate for and with the trans family I’m working with.
Similarly, drawing upon my inner ancestral resource doesn’t make my rage and heartbreak turn into “love and light.” Remembering my grandmother cheering me on during our private fashion show fills my cup enough for me to alchemize that rage and heartbreak into community organizing, healing, and action.
I can’t help but wonder: what is your inner ancestral resource? Whether from blood or chosen lineages, who gives you strength? An elder in your community? Marsha P. Johnson? Audre Lorde?
Along with inner ancestral resources, communal resources can be another nourishing balm for even the most tender wounds: grief and loss. As bell hooks wrote "rarely, if ever, are any of us healed in isolation. Healing is an act of communion." With my community, messy grief becomes manageable. I felt this so clearly last year as I was mourning the loss of my friend.
I felt a dull pain in my chest from grieving the loss of my beloved trans sister and fellow activist. She, along with too many of our transgender and gender nonconforming (TGNC) siblings, left us too soon to join the ancestors. The dull pain became heavier and heavier descending from my chest to my stomach as the moment when I had to take the mic and facilitate our community’s grief ceremony approached. I pressed my palms firmly into my lap to release the breath I had been holding. Somehow holding my breath kept the rest of it all - the heartbreak, grief, and rage- in, and holding it in was safer than feeling it all. Gradually exhaling, I noticed the suppleness of my silk trousers on my palms. The silk’s softness gently nudged me to roll my shoulders down and back after a full exhalation. Without the tension between my shoulder blades, I could notice how the ground was rising up to support the bottom of my feet. That dull pain was a little lighter. Then, I heard the chatter around the firepit. I looked up and noticed the TGNC community members passing out pens and papers for the fire ceremony. The heartbreak still lingered but I was no longer feeling it alone. I felt re-centered enough to facilitate our ceremony, holding space for the community to come together and grieve.
While anchoring in communal resources doesn’t make grief feel plush and pleasant, it helps me remember our collective strength and solidarity. When white supremacist, colonial, capitalist patriarchy fails to squeeze the totality of our fabulous humanity into tiny gender binary boxes of male and female, it banishes us to the margins. The oppressors thought they could erase us. However, at the margins, we find one another. From banishment we find belonging. We build our chosen families where we (re)learn how to give and receive love despite hurt, harm, and discomfort. The oppressors thought they could make us invisible at the margins. But we are indivisible when we honor our unique differences as we mobilize towards injustice in community, in solidarity, and in sass.
Tapping into inner resources -- whether they’re ancestral or communal – is one way to sustain our struggles for liberation and re-ignite hope. While it may seem like a “nice and cute” thing to do when the world is literally on fire, taking sips of resources during this long marathon towards liberation is essential for us to stay in the fight. Taking sips of resources (pinky up optional) along the way - instead of drinking from the fire hose when it’s a little too late- keeps burnout at bay.
Living fully while surviving is a tactic. It’s a tactic that begins with reclaiming pleasure, joy, beauty, and dignity from the most ordinary moments, even something as small as noticing the suppleness of the silk on your pants.
If you’re currently enraged, numbed out, or if you can’t let yourself feel anything because it’s too painful to feel, please do what you need to do. Please keep that “armor of protection” (or if you prefer, that “corset or Spanx of protection”) aka your coping behaviors on. Drawing on your inner resources isn’t about controlling your feelings for the sake of being calm or “regulated.” However, whenever you feel safe-ish or connected-ish, please remember that you can take the armor off if you’d like. Perhaps, when your chosen family arrives or you’re hugging your cat, you take the armor off so you can melt into that connection, receive compassion and support, and draw on those resources to fill your emotional cup.
“Girl, I know we’re hungry. But we can always take a moment to powder our nose and touch up on the lip gloss.”
In survival, I savor the smallest moments of safety. I cocoon in the smallest moments of connection, even if it’s just for three breaths. I tell my inner critics lovingly yet firmly that I’m not being lazy; I’m filling my cup with these three breaths…then I can hit resume on survival with a bit more vitality and grace. As one of my trans sex worker colleagues put it “Girl, I know we’re hungry. But we can always take a moment to powder our nose and touch up on the lip gloss.”
How might you reclaim pleasure, joy, beauty, and dignity in your day, even just for three breaths? How might you re-member to come back home to who you are, whatever that looks like to you?
For me it’s burlesque. This sensual art gradually teaches (or teases) me that being sensual- regardless of gender- means sensing the body. When my silk ribbons glide between my inner thighs, time slows down. I luxuriate in the feel of the ribbon’s smooth fabric against my skin. Sensations- sight, sound, touch- come alive in the moment on stage. As I give myself permission to feel, I’m lovingly inviting the audience to do the same. Each performance is a ceremony co-created between the audience and me. Each movement on stage is a ritual…a ritual of resistance. Because taking each piece of clothing off is an invitation for the audience to shed layers of social norms that confine and constrain the fullness of our humanity. Bare and in my flesh, it doesn’t matter how many James Baldwin books I’ve read or if you can see through my cis-passing privilege and clock me. Bare and in my flesh, I’m human with blood and ancestral strength coursing through my veins. And our humanity is greater than the sum of socially constructed labels that got assigned to us- Asian, immigrant, trans, able bodied, etc. Bare and in my flesh, you see my humanity as I see your divinity.
Offstage and out of the spotlight- on days that I can get out of bed- I choose self-expression as a ritual of resistance. I adorn my body with colors and textures that feel nourishing (I can’t have my beloved grandmother side-eye me from heaven for rolling up to my laptop in my pjs). I anoint my neck and wrists with perfume. I marvel in the sublime beauty of the eight squirrels I feed every morning. These inner resources fill my cup enough to move through the day’s rage, heartbreak, and cynicism.
“We are divinity defined.”
When we’re rooted in our beloved communities and tapped into our ancestral or other inner resources, life can be a ceremony. Doing the dishes can be a ritual. Saying “I’m here with you” can be an incantation.
Survival and safety both co-exist. In fact, one fuels the other and together they build what Nick Montgomery and carla bergman call “joyful militancy” of “thriving resistance in toxic times.” When we’re resourced, we have the agility we need to weave in and out of survival and safety instead of being stuck in survival all the time. I’ve witnessed this agility in the Black, Indigenous, and youth organizers of color, and in the parents, caregivers, and educators I work with every day.
I know how protected you might feel when you keep your armor of protection on in your survival mode. I also know that just by existing alone your brilliance and beauty enrich the world. So here I am scared and wounded, yet hopeful, inviting you to draw upon your inner resources and anchor yourself in your community. So that when you feel safe-ish, you can take your armor off, unfurl your full humanity, and as my Chinese Medicine teacher said, “offer yourself as a gift to the world.” And when you resume your survival mode and eat another bowl of ramen or watch another hamster reel, that armor will be there for you, right where you left it.
It’s scary to resist the status quo that keeps us small, to dare to both-and surviving and living. Yet, “scared” and “sacred” are only one letter apart. You are sacred.
We got this. You got me. I got you.
To wrap up this unfinished business of living fully while surviving, may I offer a spell for nurturing hope at the edge of the world?
We are warriors. We are divinity defined. For we are made of Earth and born of stars. As we take each step and our feet kiss the earth gently. We remember again that we are the universe unfolding.
We are the harmony of heaven and earth embodied.
As we take each breath, we remember again the oppression that cuts our soul and dehumanizes our ancestors. Yet we choose to caress our pain and rage with gratitude. Yet we choose to burn away shame, stigma, and self-doubt with the divine fire of compassion within our heart.
Because we’re warriors, Boddhisatva, sovereign beings of light. Because we vow to meet every moment of suffering with compassion and action. Not because we’re stronger or more superior. Rather because we know what’s true to our heart.
We are warriors who are rooted in our truths so we can blossom. We are warriors who create only what’s aligned with the divine beauty in our heart. We are warriors who know deep in our bones that we are possibilities. That we are abundance even amid oppression.
We are warriors. We are divinity defined. For we are made of Earth and born of stars.
At 18, this young artist began an exploration of gender identity through the vibrant world of drag, uncovering a deep sense of euphoria that would shape their future endeavours. This discovery was not just a personal milestone but a stepping stone into a career that defies the conventional boundaries of drag. Through their lens, they craft more than mere images; they invite us into alternate realms where every detail is a deliberate stroke in a larger painting of self-expression and defiance.
Stella Leah's work is a meticulous blend of makeup, fashion, lighting, and art direction, all harmoniously integrated to bring each concept to life. She designs and sews her own clothing, carefully selects images for post-production, and fills each photograph with elements that elevate it beyond the ordinary. The resulting images are not just visual treats; they are invitations to witness the creation of parallel realities, offering a glimpse into worlds that challenge our perceptions of normalcy and beauty.
In a bold move against the enduring scourge of queer hate—a plague that seems to recur with relentless persistence—Stella produced a photoshoot that sought to show how the glamour, boldness and self-expression that comes from queerness can triumph over dark times, and stand out even in the most hidden alleys.
Inspired by the historic events of Catalunya during the plague of the Black Death, she aimed to showcase the resilience and brilliance of queer self-expression. For this, photographer Sara Vernedas shot the images of Stella against the backdrop of the historic Cathedral of Girona, which saw the coming and passing of the plague.
The choice of location was as symbolic as it was strategic, with the ancient cathedral and its surroundings serving as the canvas for this narrative of triumph and visibility. During the shoot, the reactions of passersby, ranging from intrigue to fascination, highlighted the impact of this project. In bringing queerness into the light in such a historically charged setting, this artist not only challenges prevailing norms but also sows seeds of change, however small, in people’s consciousness.
This journey from self-discovery in drag to the creation of impactful art is a testament to the transformative power of personal and artistic evolution. It's a reminder that the act of self-expression, especially in the face of adversity, is both a personal liberation and a public statement. Through her art, Stella Leah not only navigates her own identity but also illuminates a path toward greater understanding and acceptance for all. In a world often darkened by hate and misunderstanding, their work shines as a beacon of hope, resilience, and beauty.
*Disclaimer: Some of the following links contain explicit sexual content and are intended for mature audiences only. Viewer discretion is advised. By clicking the links, you confirm that you are of legal age in your country to view adult content.
At IAMICONIQA, we’re all about creativity and pushing boundaries, and when we come across artists like Bruno Tarrius, we can’t help but get excited. Based in Barcelona, Bruno is a multidisciplinary artist—filmmaker, screenwriter, photographer—who has made waves with his provocative and thought-provoking work. His latest project, a documentary series titled "A Duras Penas, Penes Duros?", dives deep into themes that are both raw and revealing, and we couldn’t be more intrigued.
What’s the Series About?
"A Duras Penas, Penes Duros?" is a docuporno series that sheds light on sex as a coping mechanism. Bruno, known for his bold, no-holds-barred approach, captures intimate stories with a lens that’s unapologetically real. In this first episode, he sits down with former studio porn star Rogan Richards, exploring topics such as body worship, gender expression, sex addiction, the porn industry, and sex work.
Bruno goes beyond just capturing the surface stories. He even opens up about his personal past, sharing a story of abuse he suffered, creating a dialogue that blends vulnerability and sexuality. The docuporn alternates between the intimate conversation and their sexual encounter, all shot in an amateur, POV style using vintage 2000s handycam and 35mm photography. It’s a powerful exploration of human emotions and how sexuality and trauma intersect.
With his distinct visual style, Bruno brings the audience into the private worlds of his subjects, allowing us to witness their struggles, desires, and transformations. If you’ve ever been captivated by stories that go beyond the surface, this series is something you won’t want to miss.
As Bruno says, “This project has been incredibly healing and cathartic for me. It’s allowed me to materialize my concerns, obsessions, and fantasies, bringing vulnerability and care back to the forefront in a world where these topics are often overlooked."
The series, with four of the nine episodes already filmed, takes place in Barcelona, but Bruno has plans to expand to cities like Berlin and Paris for future seasons. The interviews that follow each sexual encounter, according to Bruno, are "more pornographic than the sex itself" shedding light on deeper conversations about the collective experiences within LGBTQ+ culture, such as apps, chemsex, and the importance of real emotional connection.
For those unfamiliar with Bruno Tarrius, his work spans a variety of genres—from gritty documentaries to high-fashion photography. He’s a storyteller at heart, always looking for ways to express the often-overlooked facets of human experience. In projects like Le Silence des Pierresand El Desamparo, Bruno’s commitment to authenticity shines through, making him a standout voice in both the European and global creative scenes. Currently you can find him running the door of the recently opened trans and queer owned bar Fluid in Barcelona.
With "A Duras Penas, Penes Duros?", Bruno is pushing his boundaries even further, exploring topics that not only provoke thought but also create space for important conversations around gender, desire, and the human condition.
Join Us for the Presentation in Barcelona!
If you’re in Barcelona, you’re in luck! You can meet Bruno Tarrius and get a firsthand look at "A Duras Penas, Penes Duros?" on Thursday, October 17th, at 18:00 hrs at the Ateneu del Raval (check the locationhere). It’s going to be an evening filled with insight, conversation, and art that speaks to the heart of contemporary culture.
Check out theflyer hereand make sure to mark your calendars— this is an event you don’t want to miss!
Looking forward to seeing you there! and if you can’t make it to Barcelona you can see the documentary in his fan page.
For years, queer culture has been an undercurrent—its influence undeniable but often uncredited in mainstream art. Now, the tide has turned. Queer voices are no longer whispering from the edges; they’re reshaping the entire conversation, bringing fresh perspectives that challenge conventions and celebrate difference. What was once marginalized is now celebrated openly, creating a creative explosion that reverberates across fashion, music, dance, and beyond.
