DO IT FOR YOU: CIRQUE DE TAROT AND NURTURING THE SELF

In a punk house in Kentucky, surrounded by graffiti, empty bottles, and a collective of trans energy…

I’m staying with my coworker’s friends. We’re sat around a big table, my legs swung over the armrest of a rickety bench, talking about the future of our existences. It feels almost like culture shock to be trans in the south, or what some call “south adjacent. I am only about 6 hours from home, but I’m safe. These strangers are my family for the weekend, or maybe forever.

Here, everyone sticks together. They have to.

My computer has been charging on the other side of the room, beeping back and forth from the basement’s shotty electricity. I retire to the mattress, thinking of Pittsburgh, the old homes, shitty plumbing, and shocked outlets. I’m meeting with Malacunt LaFoole and Luci Dreams, the parental figures of a family that, much like myself on this journey, crosses county lines and breaks through the barriers in their path.

Tonight, however, they speak to me from their bedroom. Luci actually started drag in their room, coming from a sheltered background, but still attending house parties in drag and filming lip syncs from behind their walls. “My family wasn’t really an open unit. [They were] very supportive but didn’t understand drag.” Often, families don’t understand, or at least not fully. There seems to be a belief in older generations that artistic expression must lead to a skewed concept of success, but without introspection, can that truly exist? Both Mal and Luci are incredibly dedicated to their craft in a way that transcends the work itself. Their identities are blatantly spiritual, no longer confined but universal. They have not just stepped outside of the box but destroyed it entirely.

That effort, though partially unnurtured by their initial origin, was formed by a new sense of attachment. Luci describes Mal as their “partner in crime,” having been friends for years, dating by 21, performing together, and subsequently creating Cirque De Tarot, a haus built off of their beliefs and relation to the universe. However, their duoship in drag is not only as a romantic couple, but within the cards. “It’s also the story of the lovers [tarot] cards…the high priestess and the fool.” All of Cirque reflects a card, Baby Pearl representing strength, Lucy Goosey as the empress, Tucker Dickens the magician, Avvet Dream under the moon, Thiqqi Nikki bright as the star, and AndroNTT encompassing the lovers. “LaFoole” explains itself, but each member of Cirque has had many iterations, Luci starting under the moniker “Apple Eden” before discovering an entertainer by the same name, and applying their development to their own self. Luci Dreams is, quite literally, a lucid dreamer. They describe their drag persona within the realm of “dark feminine energy,” the name “Luci” also doubling as short for Lucifer.

Femininity, in terms of drag, can be a difficult topic to approach, in trans and especially AFAB bodies, but Cirque blur the societal vision of gender all together. Both Mal and Luci began as clowns, Luci specializing in haunt, SFX, and multiple aspects of theatre, and putting Mal in drag for the first time. “Every time I’ve tried to do experimental makeup in the past…it would come out a clown.” And as they say, “The rest was history.”

The characterization of a clown, to me, blurs the line of gender already. That kind of expression revolves around entertainment, it lends itself to the need to perform rather than an inherent identity at play. In the same breath, the energy in that performance stems from the self to begin with. Returning to the point of the “divine feminine,” divine masculinity also plays a role. Every piece of identity, as well as your own humanity, is shaping what you produce, whether that image formed is intentional or not. Mal, Luci, and all of Cirque, fall under the trans umbrella. Each of them has their own unique form of gender presentation, but combine their identities to tell a story that is deeply personal. Mal says, “It’s admirable when people are in touch with both/all sides of their gender...Tell me you’re two-spirit without telling me you’re two-spirit.” We laugh at this for a moment, but we agree that that is the point. “The end goal, as a human, is to be okay with that. Call me crazy, but we should all love ourselves.”

It wasn’t their point to adopt children that are “all gender-fucking,” but it suits Cirque incredibly well. Cirque began as an “apartment,” but soon formed itself into a “collective of artists,” leveling itself beyond family, all while encouraging the exploration of the self. After all, both Mal and Luci developed their transness through drag. Malacunt’s alternate persona, Delta 8, highlights their femininity without the need to BE a woman, though the entirety of having a persona in the drag scene at all creates another characterization through socialization. “You code switch so hard that you convince yourself you’ve become something else entirely… “ Drag is meant to be authentic, but it’s easy to fall into becoming the opposite in an attempt to understand what that authenticity really means. You want to appeal to the crowd, but you need to appeal to yourself.

One of the biggest things Mal intends to teach the members of Cirque is that “you are not digestible for everyone, and that’s okay.” While drag, as all entertainment careers are, is incredibly social, Cirque carries the belief that popularity is not definitive. It can feel like a contest, but it’s important not to only view art as such. The lesson that Mal themselves learned is that “it’s okay to not win, to not get booked, to not take pictures, to only have one person...” but being in the space at all is an opportunity to grow, to “be appreciative.” Luci furthers this sentiment in saying that their own lesson is, “Do it for you. Do not do it to post, for a booking, [or] to impress...Make yourself happy. That’s what matters.” Though at the same time, Luci notes the importance of “knowing your worth.”

Luci says, “I don’t think mentioning AFAB drag is enough,” and I couldn’t agree more. The statement is made over and over again, to book more kings, to book trans people, to book everyone who is outside of the conceived norm of drag, but why does that norm exist to begin with? Most members of Cirque De Tarot are AFAB, but why does the body itself seem to define the quality of the performance? Tucker Dickens is an excellent example of artistry under the haus name. His drag encompasses Cirque’s journey, mugged as a mime with elements of comedy that are both feminine, masculine, and create a sense of beauty in between. Thiqqi Nikki, while being a feminine persona, also lends herself to her remarkable comedic timing. Even Lucy Goosey, a newer entertainer and addition to the haus, has been discovering himself through feminine drag. His drag is intimate in a way that defies traditonalism and continues to further Cirque’s narrative.

Drag was created to attack gender norms, so why does it also seem to enforce them? “We are so used to seeing what is produced.” Production is often what I would call, for lack of a better term, covered. Cirque, however, highlights, as Luci says, “cringe,” a term I would normally wouldn’t choose to use, but when discussing an outsider’s perception feels formative. From the audience to the art, specifically, “draglesque,” is commonly misconceived. A “real body” can be frowned upon to such an extent that the art loses meaning to those in positions of power. The pay is unequal. The bookings are touch and go. The crowds don’t carry the same energy. Mal and I agree, let’s call it what it is, “The honest to god reason you’re not getting booked? It’s the vagina.”

The physical bodies themselves aren’t the only thing deterring the community. Mal’s goal in drag is to do performances that are “in your face, black as fuck.” People of color, specifically black individuals, are often “hidden” when they do not seem to fit a certain standard. “Unless you whitewash yourself, they won’t book you...I just want to be a beacon of light for the black alternative people in the scene.” Mal references a newer entertainer, Mama Gravy, as someone to watch for and as someone who deserves their flowers. Within Cirque, Avvet Dream is also on the rise, but the community around black entertainers is already slim as is. Cirque, as a unit, aims to be political. We can all agree that drag already IS inherently political, but Mal states that they prioritize their platform. “If I have [it,] I’m going to use it...All of my kids will be on the front lines.” The content of their art is not only explorative, but a powerful statement in and of itself. “Not everything can be a kiki,” Luci says, “sometimes we need to actually work.” In the current state of America, the drag entertainers uphold the work.

While we are mainly attacking the issues within the city of Pittsburgh, these topics follow throughout the country. Mal and Luci have been “bouncing between Ohio and Pittsburgh, [and it] has been whiplash-level jarring.” Mal deems Pittsburgh drag as “high level,” and incredibly conceptual in a way that other cities cannot compare to. Despite this beauty in creation, the troubles don’t disappear. That is what makes dynamics like Cirque De Tarot so vital to the community. Their ability to conjoin and uplift as not only a family but an entire community of themselves is more than just admirable. Queer support, no matter where or how it is found, is what keeps us all here. The cheers that come from Cirque are the loudest of all, and they should be. Malacunt Lafoole and Luci Dreams have created a haus that exists at a volume that everyone, within drag or otherwise, can hear.

The only silence comes in closure. My laptop shuts, the sun has fallen, and as nightlife suggests, it’s time to leave. I’m headed to the show at Play: Louisville to see our hometown lover girl, Lydia B. Kollins, and the emotion of Cirque’s interconnection follows me through the bigoted billboards and illuminated skyline. In a city that is not mine, queerness is a constant home away from home.

In the act of nurturing the self, you can take love anywhere.