xx Alix

Farewell then to the Head Lesbian, Alix Dobkin, who died on 19 May after an aneurysm. Our paths crossed a few times in the 1990s and she offered me some typically barbed quotes for my Deneuve article "From Womyn to Grrrls" in 1993, suggesting certain lyrics that might work as I sought to illustrate parallels between womyn's music and Riot Grrrl. I remember one I selected was "go stick it in some mud". 

The best line, though, was one that did not appear. I knew that Tribe 8, then considered a rather raucous dyke band, wanted to play the womyn's music festival circuit. I pondered how they would be perceived and wondered aloud whether the audience might see some "moshing on the green fields of Michigan". Sadly, this line was cut for space in editing, but I was obviously a seer, because later I heard that not only had Alix introduced the band personally when they played, donning a leather jacket for the occasion, but Ms. Dobkin had actually stage-dived during their set!! In vain have I searched for photos of this momentous event, but I like to imagine it. 

Alix gave them her blessing, I am given to understand, after doing some research on their feminist credentials, but also because she had first-hand experience of this younger generation of dyke. I arranged for her to meet with Jill Reiter, Selena Whang and Kathleen Hanna and they conducted a riotous, thoughtful and uproarious conversation over brunch at her apartment in NYC. I was not present but was sent the proceedings by cassette, along with a slightly out of focus Polaroid of the four of them, arms around each other, captured on the roof of the building. It remains a treasured possession, evidence of generations speaking together and learning from each other. The conversation appeared in edited form in Hot Wire in 1994. Rock on, Alix. 

More Moxie

Watching the Netflix drama Moxie*, I was piqued by feelings of nostalgia and bang up to date anger. Women banding together to protest male violence? Zines? Protests? Vigils? All quite relevant to the situation unfolding in the UK after the murder of Sarah Everard, a woman snatched from the streets of London and found dead a week later. #shewasonlywalkinghome was trending while I watched and I viewed the awful footage on Twitter of police, one of whose number is the suspect, attacking vigil attendees that night. It was shocking. And yet not. 

Moxie

Women fearing for our safety on the streets is nothing new. And sadly other cases of women disappearing and being found dead attracted next to no attention even recently, among them Blessing Olusegun.

But, it was still refreshing to watch a drama about high school students in which the main relationship is between female protagonists, in which a mother is able to pass on her love of Riot Grrrl to her daughter and in which difficult issues of race, class and sexual violence are raised, albeit briefly in the case of the two former. I do wish there had been a bit more diversity of desire as well. One kiss between teenaged girls at a gig was not quite the representation it could have been. Kudos to Amy Poehler for picking up a YA book to develop in this way. We await real action on male violence, as well. 

*force of character, determination, or nerve

Misnomers

How terribly excited was I a few hours ago when I took some time out for a laze and a listen to 6Music and discovered they were playing Riot Grrrl selections? And how annoyed and frustrated was I two hours later when Riot Grrrl turned out to be "Riot Grrrlz", some strange all-encompassing term for any woman who might have been in a band in the 1990s? Plus, forebears and current young 'uns.

I wouldn't mind, if only the presenter had made it clear that bands like L7 and Babes in Toyland were not actual Riot Grrrls, but were around at the same time as bands like Bikini Kill and had, in fact, formed before them. But, No. I gritted my teeth, frustrated at the lazy misnaming and associations.

It was great to hear airplay for punk and post-punk artists like The Slits and X-ray Spex who were certainly inspirations for Riot Grrrl. But, it fell apart with the last track--Hole. Courtney Love hated Riot Grrrl so much, she did a joke RG track called "Olympia". And she tried to burn Kathleen Hanna with a cigarette! How ahistorical can you get? Grrrrr!

Roll out the red carpet

Still from Totally Girl Powered by Val Phoenix

Making short films is not a glamourous exercise. There's none of the romance of the feature, of being recognised as a proper filmmaker with a cast and crew, although that can be a slog.

So, it's a rare pleasure to be able to say: "My film is having its world premiere next week at a cinema in London." OK. I've never been able to say that, but it is true. My film Totally Girl Powered is having its world premiere next week at the Rio in Dalston, as part of Fringe! festival.

This is great on two counts: it's showing in an actual cinema. Not only that, but it's a cinema I know well and have attended. It was my local when I lived in Dalston in the '90s. And it has a fabulous history as an Art Deco Hackney landmark, including hosting punk gigs in the '70s. Marlene Marder writes in her book about playing there. I can't remember if it was with Kleenex or LiLiPUT.

Anyway, TGP is the taster for Itty Bitty Titty Committee, which I have always felt is a bit of a Riot Grrrl throwback, although released in 2006. So, it'll be a bit of a RG afternoon, with fantastic music and fiery women on the silver screen.

There's loads of other great stuff at Fringe! this year, including art, performance, and plenty of features and shorts! It's pleasing to see work by Barbara Hammer, Rosa von Praunheim and Derek Jarman getting an airing alongside new filmmakers. And I am moderating a closing night Q&A, the world premiere of Julia Ostertag's documentary on Scream Club,  And You Belong.

Once TGP has had its premiere, I can put it back up on Vimeo. Until then, hope to see you in sunny Dalston or thereabouts.

Totally Girl Powered

I do love an anniversary and yesterday, in addition to being International Women's Day, was also the 20th anniversary of an eventful day in my life. See my new film for a full explanation.
13/3 edit Doing some housekeeping, so this video is offline for the moment.

This week: Yeastie Girls premiere

I've been busy in the darkroom, printing printing away some of my ancient negatives in anticipation of a film I would like to make (and which may still happen) on my visit to the UK 20 years ago, which happened to coincide with the Huggy Bear-Bikini Kill tour. I only wrote snippets about it at the time, some of which appeared in my newspaper column and some in an article for Deneuve. But, I have held onto the tape and negatives, hoping I would eventually put something more substantial together.

Well, this Thursday sees a tiny part of that realised, as I have some text and a photo in the Yeastie Girls exhibit on the idea of Riot Grrrl. A puzzling title, as the Yeastie Girlz had nowt to do with Riot Grrrl, but I guess the curators liked the name.

I am given to understand that Vyner Street is the hip new art street in ye old Hackney. Not my typical stomping ground. Nevertheless, it is timely to reconsider Riot Grrrl, and for some of us it never went away anyway!

Printing has been delightful. I have been experimenting with various methods of solarisation, with quite varying results (including one accident with a machine solution), and will be pursuing this in future with other subjects, I think.

The exhibit runs for two weeks.

Riot Grrrl is not dead compilation

It's good to start off the new year with a bounty of music, and Riot Grrrl Is Not Dead! comes courtesy of Riot Grrrl Berlin, who have collected bands from across Europe and North America (with a smattering from South America, the Antipodes and some place called Grrrlmany--look that up on Google Earth!) for a free download comp.

I only found out about it courtesy of Twitter (yes, about four years behind the times), but it's been available for a few weeks now and features a mix of old and new, including the US band Scarce, whom I've never heard described as Riot Grrrl, and several who've been associated with Ladyfest. There is no band info in the zip file. For that, you need to scroll down the website page to get the links. Enjoy!

LLGFF: Reclamation

Ladies and Gentlemen, the Fabulous Stains (dir Lou Adler)

Christopher Strong (dir Dorothy Arzner)


I'm all for reclaiming lost films and assessing them in the light of modernity. Certainly, last night, having viewed these two, I am full of thoughts, some contradictory. It's also sobering to think how little has changed, in some ways, since these two films were shot and released.

Ladies and Gentlemen, the Fabulous Stains was presented under the auspices of Unskinny Bop and is obviously one of their favourites and cited by many bloggers as proto-Riot Grrrl, so I was looking forward to my first viewing of it. Odd I have never seen it, as though it had a small release in 1982, apparently it has gained most of its cult status from repeated cable viewings in the '80s. I did have access to cable TV in the '80s but never caught it. Too busy watching Radio 1990, I guess.

Well, what to say? There is so much right about this film, from its portrayal of disaffected teenaged girls from small towns seeking escape, to its portrayal of a cynical and manipulative music industry, to its hilarious depiction of British bands taking to the road for their big breakthrough US tours becoming disillusioned. (How many times does Paul Simonon ask: "When do we get to California?")

But, feminist? Proto-Riot Grrrl? I don't think so. Diane Lane's Corinne Burns sets off with her sister and cousin as The Stains to make it out of Charlestown, PA. Her only concern is getting out, not connecting with other girls or making a statement. At no point in the film does she really have any contact with her audience, other than insulting one woman in the front row of the band's first gig. While legions of girls follow The Stains and dress like them, taking up their mantra of "We Don't Put Out", this is portrayed as some kind of herd-like fashion statement, not any kind of empowerment.

Crucially, for me, there is no indication any of these Skunks forms her own band or moves from being a consumer of culture to a creator. This was the important message of both first-wave punk and Riot Grrrl: DIY. That doesn't happen in the film. And as for The Stains' supposed triumph, becoming a fluffy MTV band and losing all their rough edges and anger? How is that a triumph? I think the film works brilliantly as a satire of the power of media and is quite prescient of reality TV. (I also think Spinal Tap took some pointers from it.) But, I can't see much of a feminist message.

As for the subtextfest that is Christopher Strong, crikey. Dorothy Arzner and Katharine Hepburn. Need I say more? Well, yes. Made in 1933, this period piece set in London features Hepburn in marvellous outfits (including a jaw-dropping shiny moth costume, complete with antennae) taking to the skies as a pioneering aviator locked in a quite ludicrous romance with dull aristo Colin Clive. Can't see it myself. But, Arzner and screenwriter Zoe Akins work in some marvellous mixed messages. To wit, saintly married lady and mother Billie Burke utters the immortal line: "Marriage and children make almost any woman old-fashioned and intolerant." How the audience roared at that one. But, of course Hepburn's transgressive, trouser-wearing character cannot possibly get away with her behaviour and dies a fiery crash landing death. Arrgh.

Typical Girls? The Story of the Slits

Zoë Street Howe
Omnibus Press
Legendary as first-wave punks and pioneering women, yet largely ignored by the myriad punk histories over the decades, The Slits finally get their bio as the 30th anniversary of their debut album, Cut, approaches.

Hanging her book on this peg, Street Howe (see pic) gives a very abridged back story to the album and also pretty much fast-forwards through everything after the band broke up, but the golden years of 1976-81 are given their due, with an array of funny, insightful anecdotes from a range of colourful characters such as Don Letts, Keith Levene and Vivien Goldman about what it was like being around the Slits in that heady time when the world was introduced to what would become known as punk.

This then branched off into the infinitely more interesting post-punk, with its reach into the diaspora of reggae, dub, experimental noise, art rock and all of the "waves". The Slits were there through all of it and were still evolving when they broke up at the end of '81. The book includes interviews with band members Viv Albertine, Ari Up, Tessa Pollitt and Palmolive, and also some of the ones who left early on, such as Kate Corris.

Told in a rather breathless, golly, gee-whiz style, the book lacks a solid social and political context for The Slits' story. It is also peppered with dismissive phrases such as "die-hard Women's Libbers", a phrase I haven't heard in about 25 years.

This anti-feminist thread is backed up by Street Howe's comment in The Quietus: "I loved their strange, funny, experimental sound and look, and was inspired by, from what I'd read in the odd interview, their refusal to label themselves 'feminist', or even 'punk'."

Why is this inspiring? What is wrong with aligning oneself to a group or movement? Surely this is exactly what the Slits did: they called themselves a gang or a tribe and were close-knit. Ari Up has long referred to being part of a "revolution". Surely one cannot have a revolution without acting in tandem.

Strange, really, because, when I met the author recently, she said she identifies as a feminist, but she was at pains to illustrate that The Slits didn't want to be categorised.

Ironic, then, because the memory of The Slits has largely been kept alive by underground women's movements such as Riot Grrrl and Ladyfest (the Manchester event hosted the re-formed band) which are avowedly feminist and see the value of standing together in the face of continuing misogyny.

But if The Slits baulked at being adherents to a movement, their sense of being independent and in control of their work has certainly been picked up by thoughtful and adventurous souls in the intervening years.

It is unfortunate that the book uses the word "seminal", a word whose etymology is linked to semen, to describe The Slits. But the band is extraordinary, their legacy impressive and their story well worth telling.

Riot Grrrl: Revolution Girl Style Now!

Black Dog Publishing
£19.95

There is much to be said about Riot Grrrl, the movement that spawned a phantom army of angry women and girls in the early 1990s and had a brief mainstream moment, before heading back underground. Its influence stretches from Ladyfest to the film Itty Bitty Titty Committee and it deserves proper consideration.

As it happens, this International Women's Day (8 March) is the 15th anniversary of a remarkable gig in Newport, Gwent by Huggy Bear and Bikini Kill, two bands closely associated with Riot Grrrl. I was there and it was a watershed moment for me, not just because I had conducted an intense interview with Kathleen Hanna, but also because I missed my train and ended up staying for the gig which almost became a riot. I watched open-mouthed as Hanna demanded men move to the back and girls and women come to the front by the stage. Despite my tiredness, I was energised and I thought: this is an extraordinary moment. What will happen next?

So to the book. In this long-overdue assessment, four authors give their views on various aspects of Riot Grrrl: writings, activism, punk and art. The intro by editor Nadine Monem promises that these are the authors' personal views, culled from their involvement and their research. But then no biographical information is offered about them, leaving the reader wondering: who are these people and why should I care what they think about Riot Grrrl? This is relevant, because, as is stated in the book, Riot Grrrl had no central committee. Every woman made it her own.

One might expect the information about the authors' backgrounds and, indeed, biases, to come in the actual essays. For example, Red Chidgey, in her assessment of Riot Grrrl writing, gives a brief account of her involvement before discussing the zine network that fuelled Riot Grrrl's spread.

However, the contributions of fellow writers Julia Downes and Cazz Blaze offer little personal perspective and their articles are largely cut-and-paste jobs from old sources.

In fact, the lack of original research in this book is glaringly disappointing. Most footnotes refer to published books and articles, many from the music press, which seems especially odd as the latter's hostility led to a media blackout by Riot Grrrl. Consequently, who cares what the NME said in 1993? Surely, a book coming so long afterward should be able to shed light on what was really going on, at ground level, not rehash old inaccurate material from a male-dominated press.

One bright spot, coming very late on, is Suzy Corrigan's contribution, a well-written, informative essay on the US backdrop to the formation of Riot Grrrl: the Reagan years, the AIDS crisis, the Guerilla Girls, etc. She gives a personal insight into how she felt growing up in this environment and also includes her involvement in the 1993 ICA Bad Girls conference. I take issue with her assertion that art will save us all (though I hope that it does), but I respect it as a strongly held viewpoint. A pity this is the last chapter, coming after so much dross.

The directories at the back give timelines and a list of zines, both selective, leaving one wondering: what is the point? Any novice reader coming to this would be given little to get her going.

And knowledgeable readers (hey, I'm a footnote!) will recognise the plethora of errors. I am dismayed by the shabbiness of the book's presentation: typos, mis-spellings, misnumbered footnotes, factual errors, and ink-smudged pages abound. One might think it was a deliberate attempt to echo the home-made style of zines, but I suspect not. The subject deserves better.

LLGFF IV

The Authorial Voice

Ticktock Lullaby
Fat Girls

Two films by writer/director/star triple threats premiered at the festival with Lisa Gornick's feature and the debut by 21-year-old Ash Christian. By chance, the two filmmakers ran into each other outside the screening of the latter [see photo] and chatted re: the perils of directing oneself. Both confessed to being control freaks. There is a touch of the Woody Allen about this approach, with a strong authorial voice appearing in both which can polarise opinion. One person's quirkiness is another's self-indulgence.

My responses to these two were certainly polarised. I warmed to Fat Girls' outsider triumphs over adversity portrayal of small-town America, while Tick Tock Lullaby left me cold as I waited for something to happen. Its tale of a self-obsessed lesbian couple trying to have a baby exhausted my patience when after 20 minutes the couple (played by Gornick and Raquel Cassidy) were still agonising over whether to go ahead. Some would be charmed by Gornick's interior monologues and recurring cartoons to depict her inner turmoil. I was annoyed.

Fat Girls featured a motley crew of geeky fat gay boy, fat straight girl and Cuban refugee all stranded in a dead-end Texas town full of rednecks and closet cases. The director takes the lead role of Rodney, called Chub by his devout Christian mother, who lusts after the cool English kid at school and gives secret blow jobs to the football captain in the closet. Much of it is played for laughs and the experience of being the uncool kid at school probably resonates with many people. It did for me. The film, shot on mini DV, is certainly rough around the edges, with unbeautiful cinematography and a few lapses in pace. However, Christian certainly has made his mark and the characters will apparently be reappearing in a new series for MTV.

Good Doc/Bad Doc

The Railroad All-Stars
Mirror Mirror

More sublime to ridiculousness in two feature-length documentaries. Railroad All-Stars is an astounding piece of film-making from Spanish director Chema Rodriguez, about a football team formed by prostitutes in Guatemala City to highlight the discrimination facing them. Rodriguez has a sympathetic eye and her camera always seems to be on hand when something eventful happens, which it does often, as they are kicked out of their league, argue among themselves and personal relationships deteriorate among the team. So many big personalities are on hand that it is difficult to follow sometimes and my only complaint was that the names were only shown onscreen once rather than repeated during the 90 minutes.

Among the teammates are Vilma and Lupe, who break up and reunite at least once during the story. Team captain Valeria visits her gang member boyfriend in jail. Mercy has left behind her children in El Salvador and Carol is being abused by her male partner. The team coach is the flamingly gay Kimberly, who has his own story, too. Rodriguez has a bounty of material and yet constructs a clear narrative as the team goes on a national tour and then heads for a match in El Salvador. I found myself rooting for them in their matches and willing them to succeed. Sadly, there is no Hollywood ending for these women as a coda informs us of what happened once the cameras stopped rolling. Life for sex workers is bleak and they are no exceptions.

Mirror Mirror, by contrast, takes a fascinating subject, the poly-gendered Wotever Club in London, and manages to make it extremely dull by using an interactive approach in which the subjects, including the club promoter Ingo and some of the performers, were invited to give their feedback on Zemirah Moffat's film as it was being made. This results in some of the most self-conscious, over analysed and processed filmmaking I've seen. All the life is squeezed out of this film and it drags badly. Patrick Stewart lookalike Lazlo Pearlman offers some unintentional comedy when he says he finds the project highly intellectual. Moffat says at one point in her voiceover that she finds that the characters are becoming aspects of her desire. But there is precious little desire on show.

Also viewed:

Itty Bitty Titty Committee

Finally, a Riot Grrrl film, if only 15 years late.

With Bikini Kill, Heavens to Betsy, Le Tigre and Sleater Kinney on the soundtrack and a plotline featuring an underground radical feminist group, it's not your usual fare. Baby dyke Anna hooks up with the feminist activist group CiA for actions, while falling for the alluring leader Sadie at the same time. But, there's a problem... Plenty of dyke drama ensues.

The cameos by famous dykes like Guin Turner, Jenny Shimizu and Daniela Sea are a bit inside joke, but it is a solid and enjoyable piece of work cleverly juxtaposing politics and comedy. And certainly, the arguments, the political bickering and the passion ring true. Almost like Dykes to Watch Out For come to life.

As with The Perfect Ones (see LLGFF II), the feel is very early nineties. Really, just the group's website and mention of the Iraq war place it in the late noughties, rather than the early nineties. I wonder if the screenwriters had the idea years ago and just gave it a slight tweak to bring it up to date.