I heard a Cockette speak tonight.
I went to the opening of a new exhibition at the Scottsdale Museum of Contemporary Art (SMoCA) with my friend AJ.
Part of the exhibition was a retrospective on the 60s and 70s. They had a whole exhibit devoted to the San Francisco performance troupe, “The Cockettes”, who were a huge sensation in the 60s. They were serious hippies and all lived together and did a lot of drugs and daily lived out their fantasies. They became famous for blurring lines between art, life, gender identity, all sorts of of things.
One of the original Cockettes was there tonight to present a film from their heyday, and then to speak to us about what it was like back then, and about what it was like being a Cockette.
She was I’m guessing somewhere in her 60s. Dressed pretty wild, but looked very cool!
She showed a movie of this fantastic performance the Cockettes did one Halloween. As she showed the film she talked about the 60’s lifestyle in San Francisco, the abundance of drugs and sex everywhere.
The performances of the Cockettes in the movie were fantastic. So free, uninhibited, organic. I found myself romanticizing/fantasizing about how cool it must of all been, to have been part of that whole scene!
After the movie, she presented us with a monologue from her old diary, about a new lover she had just met and how they were writhing in sexual ecstacy, and then he got up and left her to do it with a painting, then he came back to her, then went back to do it some more with the painting, and she ended up I think stabbing him.
The monologue was sort of interesting, but I hope she didn’t really stab him.
Then after that, she sang a song to us about masturbation. Not as good as the monologue.
As we were exiting the room I turned to AJ and said, “She had me going for awhile, but she should’ve stopped before that song.”
AJ agreed, but thought she should’ve stopped before the monologue.