David Bowie Is opening party, Fri, Sept 27 @ the AGO
If David Bowie can pass himself off as a gay/bi/crossdressing musician for the early part of his career, I should be able to pretend to be straight for the David Bowie Is opening-night party at the AGO. At least for the early part. With more than 300 pieces, the exhibit is massive. The crowd upstairs, eager and hyper to bear witness to Bowie’s creative genius, is too much for my artistic sensibilities. I decide to come back the next day to see it when it’s calmer and quieter. Tonight is about dancing to some classic Bowie, courtesy of DJ and artist Luis Jacob, mingling with an artistic crowd, including DJ Kris Steeves, and pretending to be a real rock star. From the “If I stand here long enough and pose like I don’t care, everyone can see how fabulous I am” stairs, I spot artist Andrew Zealey chatting with Steve Shon, of The Rivoli. Zealey donated some of his own Bowie memorabilia to the exhibit’s Toronto stop. “When Ziggy Stardust came out, I was a pale 16-year-old redhead living in Scarborough,” Zealey tells me over cocktails. “It changed my life. I wanted to go there, where Bowie was taking us. I started collecting in the early 1980s, when I worked at the Record Peddler and Art Metropole.” Zealey’s collection contains things like the official David Bowie zine, Bowie stamps and even bubble gum records. Put a little Bowie in my mouth? Yum.
Blood, Sweat & Queers, Sat, Sept 28 @ The Steady Café
If I travel all over the city every weekend to attend various parties, I should be able to attend a new night at a new bar in my own neck of the woods. At least for my first stop. While some gay nights outside the Village struggle to survive, The Steady (which looks deceivingly small from outside) is thriving. Tonight’s monthly edition of Blood, Sweat & Queers is balls-to-the-walls rammed with a too-kewl-for-cool crowd, including promoter/performer Matty Cameron, filmmaker Mark Pariselli, makeup artist Robert Weir and the cruelly outrageous Margot Keith. It’s so busy and so hot that my camera lens is fogging over and my pits are beginning to drip like a Melitta coffeemaker. All the more reason to shed unwanted articles of clothing. On decks, DJ (and Xtra arts editor) Phil V is spinning some classic Gaga as cute boys in nose rings and Value Village T-shirts jam the backroom dancefloor. Sticky good. All manner of booty-bouncing hell breaks loose as Devine Darlin takes over the floor, with dancers Brian and Curtis busting out of itty-bitty shorts that threaten to expose more meat and potatoes than my plate can handle. “I’ve never been out here before,” Devine says after, breathlessly. “Where am I again?” The Steady. Ossington and Bloor. It’s getting good and gay. Yum.