Master drag queens show heightened awareness of opposite sex

In art, as in life, we enter dangerous territory as we compare the sexes and what each brings to the table.

Much of this danger enters when we begin to discuss what we perceive as the opposite sex’s shortcomings, and once the floodgates have been forced open down this train of thought, we smatter the opposite sex with what it can and can’t do when it comes to gender.

Even in the limitless world of art, this inability to see beyond sex is inescapable. There is, however, a timeless tradition in performance that not only entertains, but also raises the question of gender in a highly discursive manner: drag.

Drag, or the intentional veiling of one’s self in the demeanor or clothing associated with the opposite gender, has been used in comedy, theater and music performance for centuries.

Originally forced onto male actors in various cultures, as regulations existed prohibiting females from performing, drag is now used intentionally to highlight positive aspects, to comically point out the foibles of an opposite gender or to make a statement about someone’s identity.

Drag can vary from full costume to just physical or vocal imitation, according to whatever artistic format, capabilities or message is intended.

Aside from a performance technique, drag has also developed into its own independent form of art, with competitions crowning drag kings and queens for their abilities to cross into the other gender believably.

Following the Sexual Revolution of the 1960s and ’70s, drag became much more socially approved and incorporated into the mainstream, with iconic figures such as Divine, Boy George and RuPaul mastering the art in all its variety.

But with only these surface definitions and examples of drag, we are left asking, “Why is drag so important? Why did it persist after females were allowed to act on stage?
How can someone possibly portray another gender with the full capacity a performer of that gender could?”

Unfortunately, as we become culturally aware of sexuality, we also become defensive of it. No one wants their identity to be degraded, and oftentimes, gender criticism is seen as that. However, drag provides the veil of performance that makes sex a little less serious.

Drag not only allows audience members to see what a male performer might think about a female character’s shortcomings, but it also provides intriguing insight as to what that male performer might perceive as the basic nature of femininity. Thus, drag gives us the opportunity to air what we think about sex, with personal opinions just as comically fallible as the way we present them sans drag.

For example, a female in male drag might portray what she feels are the best aspects of masculinity with a shocking accuracy that would make an audience really consider how easy it might be to understand the opposite sex.

Until we can stop being so uptight about sex, drag remains crucial as one of life’s outlets that art as a whole constantly provides. The sheer precision needed to master this unique form exudes extreme skill and an above-average awareness of our everlasting sexual discourse.