Rust Belt Burlesque: The Softer Side of a Heavy Metal Town

By Erin O’Brien, Bob Perkoski and Mike Olszewski

The performance art of burlesque, once a faded form, has made a comeback in the twenty-first century, and it has shimmied back to life with a vengeance in Cleveland. Thanks to fans and entrepreneurs, neo-burlesque has taken the stage—and it’s more inclusive, less seedy, and emphatically fun.

Rust Belt Burlesque traces the history of burlesque in Cleveland from the mid-1800s to the present day, while also telling the story of Bella Sin, a Mexican immigrant who largely drove Northeast Ohio’s neo-burlesque comeback. The historical center of Cleveland burlesque was the iconic Roxy Theater on East Ninth Street. Here, in its twentieth-century heyday, famed dancers like Blaze Starr and comics like Red Skelton and Abbott and Costello entertained both regulars and celebrity guests.

Erin O’Brien’s lively storytelling and Bob Perkoski’s color photos give readers a peek into the raucous Ohio Burlesque Festival that packs the house at the Beachland Ballroom every year. Today’s burlies come in all shapes, ethnicities, and orientations, drawing a legion of adoring fans. This is a show you won’t want to miss.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Swallow Press
• Release date: Jul 10, 2019
• ISBN: 9780804041010

Erin O’Brien

Erin O’Brien’s eclectic features and essays have appeared in a host of national and local publications, including the Los Angeles Times, the New York Times, the Plain Dealer, and others. She is also the author of The Irish Hungarian Guide to the Domestic Arts.

Book preview

RUST BELT BURLESQUE

RUST BELT BURLESQUE

THE SOFTER SIDE OF A HEAVY METAL TOWN

ERIN O’BRIEN BOB PERKOSKI

FOREWORD BY MIKE OLSZEWSKI

SWALLOW PRESS

OHIO UNIVERSITY PRESS

ATHENS

Swallow Press

An imprint of Ohio University Press

Athens, Ohio 45701

ohioswallow.com

© 2019 by Erin O’Brien and Bob Perkoski

Foreword © 2019 by Mike Olszewski

All rights reserved

To obtain permission to quote, reprint, or otherwise reproduce or distribute material from Swallow Press / Ohio University Press publications, please contact our rights and permissions department at [phone] or [phone] (fax).

Unless otherwise indicated, all photos are by Bob Perkoski, © Perkoski Photography 2019.

Section divider images by Bob Perkoski: ii, Ruby Sparkles; vi, Jo’Rie Tigerlily; viii, Lily von Matterhorn; xii, Autumn Flaunt ’Em; 20, Cherie Blondell; 52, Sydni Deveraux; 54, Siobhan Atomica; 186, Inga; 193, Mabel Syrup

Printed in the United States of America

Swallow Press / Ohio University Press books are printed on acid-free paper ™

29 28 27 26 25 24 23 22 21 20 19        5 4 3 2 1

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: O’Brien, Erin, 1965- author. | Perkoski, Bob (Photographer), author. | Olszewski, Mike, 1953- writer of foreword.

Title: Rust belt burlesque : the softer side of a heavy metal town / Erin O’Brien, Bob Perkoski ; foreword by Mike Olszewski.

Description: Athens : Swallow Press, Ohio University Press, [2019] | Includes bibliographical references.

Identifiers: LCCN 2019013943| ISBN 9780804012195 (pb : alk. paper) | ISBN 9780804041010 (pdf)

Subjects: LCSH: Burlesque (Theater)--Ohio--Cleveland.

Classification: LCC PN1942 .O27 2019 | DDC 792.7/0973--dc22

LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2019013943

To the legendary Bella Sin and all the burlies who show the world that possibilities are for everyone.

CONTENTS

Foreword

Photographer’s Note

PART ONE: A Sequined Resolve

PART TWO: Postcards from a Burly Past

PART THREE: Center Stage

The Hot Lights

Behind the Curtain

Rainbows and Stilettos

If These Walls Could Talk

FINALE

Sunday Morning

Shamus Dickinson (Veranda L’Ni)

Dottie Comma

CeCe Noir

Howard Kolodny (Samantha Echo)

Bella Sin

Notes

FOREWORD

It was a Friday night in January 1970. The white stuff was coming down so hard it was like walking through a snow globe, but three of us—two buddies and I—made it downtown and parked outside the Domino Lounge on Prospect Avenue next to the legendary Kay’s Bookstore. The streets were deserted and even a little scary, but that’s what made it cool. Somewhere an outdoor speaker was playing José Feliciano’s Light My Fire, and the sound echoed off the darkened buildings. A walk down Ninth Street past the Bond Clothing Store (which might have been designed by George Jetson) and there it was: that forbidden place announced by a series of large tinted photographs of shady ladies. Now, if we could just get past the door.

Nobody wanted to go first. Could they arrest us? What if they called our parents? I was the tallest, so I got pushed up front. I broke out in a sweat and my voice cracked as I asked, D-d-do you have to be eighteen to get in here? The tired old guy in the ticket booth looked me in the eye and said, Hurry up, kid. There’s a line. We each put down $1.50, and in we went.

The lobby was small, and the first thing that hit you was the smell of musty perfume. The rusted-out men’s room was on the left, with a sign in the lobby for coming attractions in the center of it all and a tiny concession stand on the right just before you walked into the theater. The audience was full of old men, teenage guys, and a lot of varsity jackets. We found seats up front just a few rows from the orchestra pit where a small band played. Then, in what sounded like a phony British accent, an offstage announcer said, Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to the Roxy Theater . . . This was going to be good.

That evening’s show had five strippers, a comedy team, and a singer. During intermission, guys hawked mysterious boxes for a dollar. The box held a chocolate bar, ads for weird magazines, and, if you were lucky, a gold watch. There was also the promise of a free ticket in each and every box. The ticket read, This is a free ticket. It’s not a ticket to anything. It’s just free. What a night.

That Monday I went back to Bedford High School and saw my locker partner, Paul Olah. I told him about the Roxy, and he gave me a half smile and a shrug.

Yeah, I responded, like you’ve been there, Paul.

Boy, was I wrong. He came from a showbiz family. His birth dad was a burlesque comic named Joe Bovian, but he was Joe Gerard onstage (and had been investigated after the JFK assassination because he played Jack Ruby’s Carousel Club in Dallas). Paul’s mom danced under the name Terry Mixon, and his grandmother, former dancer Maddie Mixon, helped manage the theater. Paul practically grew up at the Roxy. He’d go to class at a nearby Catholic elementary school and spend the rest of the day with his grandmother at the theater. The staff kept him busy, too. The comics taught him how to play cards, the guys in the orchestra pit gave him music lessons, and when he and his brother were really young they would spend hours unraveling a Gordian knot of tangled G-strings. Keep in mind that Paul’s grandmother was a highly respected member of her church community and that the family attended mass at St. Joseph’s every Sunday. They were the typical folks next door. They just had a long history in burlesque.

Once we knew there were no problems getting in, we kept going to the Roxy. It was usually two of us in the front, three in the back, and the smallest guy scrunched up in the wheel well of a VW bug. This was the classic burlesque, too. The dancers had names like Kissable Kutie Kim Kristie; Sheena the Snake Woman; the Devil’s Mistress, Patti Wayne; and Cleveland’s Barbie Doll, the Sweetheart of the West Side. Comedians included Scurvy Miller, Buddy O’Day, and Erby Wilson. We knew back then that classic burlesque probably wouldn’t last into the 1970s, but we enjoyed it while we could.

Some say Cleveland’s burlesque scene died with the Roxy when it shuttered in 1977. But the scene didn’t die; it just took a time-out. Now a new breed of entertainer carries on the tradition, rising from the ashes like a phoenix with a bump and a grind and a wink and a smile (and the occasional tattoo). I tip my hat to Erin O’Brien, Bob Perkoski, and the staff at Ohio University Press for their work telling the whole story. You’re in for a roller-coaster ride through history that deposits you before a smoldering modern show on Waterloo Road.

Now if I could only find that free ticket . . .

Mike Olszewski

PHOTOGRAPHER’S NOTE

Even before I met Bella Sin, before I ever shot a show, I was intrigued by burlesque. Being an artist and a photographer, I was inspired by the imagery. I had already bought the domain name Rust Belt Burlesque, knowing I wanted to do something photographically