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If San Francisco's drag laureate can't make a drag club work in the city, who can?
If San Francisco's drag laureate can't make a drag club work in the city, who can?

San Francisco Chronicle​

time22-07-2025

  • Entertainment
  • San Francisco Chronicle​

If San Francisco's drag laureate can't make a drag club work in the city, who can?

If Oasis and its proprietor D'Arcy Drollinger are drag mothers to San Francisco's LGBTQ nightlife, the children are in mourning. 'D'Arcy has helped put Bay Area drag on the map and supported countless artists in the process,' said Oaklash drag festival and nonprofit co-founder Mama Celeste, who performed early in her career at Oasis' Daughter night. Now, with the nightclub and cabaret's closure at the end of the year, that map is losing its lodestar. It's 'a huge loss for the queer and trans community,' Mama Celeste said. The news, announced Monday, July 21, underscores a stark reality in this post-pandemic era: even the most beloved and high-profile landmarks of queer nightlife are not immune to the pressures threatening the city's cultural fabric. Drollinger, as San Francisco's Drag Laureate and the creative force behind community traditions like 'The Golden Girls: The Christmas Episodes,' brought star power, ingenuity and an unwavering following to the club. For performers and audiences alike it's not just a loss — it's a warning. 'If a great room with great live entertainment, and a strong, supportive, deeply connected community can find itself forced to shut down, we're all in danger,' said Jim Sweeney, founder and host of the Hubba Hubba Revue at the neighboring DNA Lounge. Drollinger founded the award-winning nightclub and performance venue with fellow drag entertainer Heklina and business partners Jason Beebout and Geoffrey Benjamin in 2014 at a time when 'we were desperately in need of something like Oasis,' said drag performer Peaches Christ. 'There really isn't anything like it,' she went on. The loss is especially painful, she added, because it also marks the end of a venue co-founded by her close friend Heklina, who died in London in 2023. (Peaches Christ is hosting a benefit for Heklina's archives at the club on Monday night.) Michael Phillis, whose 'Baloney' burlesque review (with Rory Davis) and 'Patty from HR' character both found cult followings at the club, said that he and many performers 'cut our teeth here, honed our craft here, made a name for ourselves here, celebrated wins and losses and the everyday struggle of being gay, being fabulous, being alive.' 'Running a business is so demanding and requires constant effort and attention, and then throw a wig on top of it — D'Arcy used the club to unify our community with open arms,' said drag queen and community activist Juanita More. Throughout its decade in operation, Oasis built a reputation for attracting queer celebrity clientele and in the last few years has become a destination for 'RuPaul's Drag Race' stars. It's also been known for creating programming with an emphasis on racial, ethnic and diversity such as 'Reparations,' which focuses on Black performers. Breonna McCree, the co-executive director of the Transgender Cultural District, called it 'a vibrant cultural hub for queer and trans artistry.' Drollinger, who became sole owner in 2020, guided Oasis through the COVID-19 pandemic by launching Oasis TV, which streams past performances at the venue, and 'Meals on Heels,' a food delivery service featuring drag performances that drew national attention. 'I know D'Arcy and the entire team at Oasis worked so hard to hang on through the pandemic,' acknowledged District 6 Supervisor Matt Dorsey. 'I obviously root for the success of all our LGBTQ+ community institutions, but we were especially rooting for Oasis in the District 6 office.' Dorsey said he's already contacted Anne Taupier, director of San Francisco's Office of Economic and Workforce Development, and plans to convene a meeting with all Oasis employees to ensure they're plugged into job placement and workforce services. Drollinger said the decision was painful but unavoidable. After two years of shrinking audiences and declining bar sales, the financial pressure became too great. Costs have continued to climb, especially for insurance and security following an armed robbery at the club in July 2024. He's holding on to the hope that a surge in support could carry Oasis to one last celebration on New Year's Eve, which would mark the venue's 11th anniversary. But even if Drollinger reaches that goal, the permanent closure of Oasis has broader implications. As Devlin Shand, founder of the community gallery Queer Arts Featured, noted on social media, it's 'a loss that will have reverberating consequences for our performance art scene.' Without the club, the South of Market's 11th Street corridor becomes 'less of a broader destination,' Sweeney said. The area has already suffered the loss of Slim's, its successor YOLO, Paradise Lounge and Studio Z. 'One of the best things about nightlife is that the more bars and venues in a neighborhood, the better we all do,' said the Stud Collective, the group behind neighboring South of Market queer bar the Stud, in a statement. Their own history is a testament to that resilience; after four years without a physical home, the Stud reopened in 2024 on Folsom Street. 'If there is one thing the Stud has learned in our 70 years is, it's not over till it's over,' the collective added. The Stud's revival serves as a reminder that queer spaces can bounce back— but only with sustained community support. 'We can't just talk about how much the arts matter, we have to be there. In the seats. At the shows,' said Shane Ray, founding artistic director of Ray of Light Theatre, which produces 'The Rocky Horror Show' at Oasis each fall. 'Showing up now, not just when something's at risk of disappearing.' To that end, drag performer and Stud Collective member Honey Mahogany issued a call to action: 'Oasis isn't closed yet! I hope to see many of you there over the next few months.'

Oakland eliminates top arts position to save $300K. Critics say it's a mistake
Oakland eliminates top arts position to save $300K. Critics say it's a mistake

San Francisco Chronicle​

time10-07-2025

  • Entertainment
  • San Francisco Chronicle​

Oakland eliminates top arts position to save $300K. Critics say it's a mistake

Oakland has the drag splendour of Oaklash, the sprawling art party of Oakland First Fridays, the form-breaking plays of Oakland Theater Project, the wall dancers of Bandaloop, the hip-hop extravaganza of Hiero Day, the fire-wielding performers of the Crucible and various community arts groups celebrating a medley of races and cultures. What it doesn't have is an arts leader in city government. The Oakland City Council passed a budget on June 11 that eliminated its Cultural Affairs Manager position, citing budgetary concerns. But critics say money-saving justifications haven't been made in good faith. Until autumn, Lex Leifheit will serve in the role in an interim capacity. Her predecessor, Roberto Bedoya, departed in October after seven years on the job. The fate of the department's four remaining staffers remains unclear. 'How can you have a city and not have an individual in charge of promoting its cultural assets?' Bedoya told the Chronicle, noting he had no indication of the city's plans when he retired at age 72. 'It burns me.' Oakland has used various arts leadership structures over the past 30 years, a representative for the city administrator's office told the Chronicle, noting that Bedoya's role gave the arts the highest position in the city's hierarchy since 2003. Oakland City Council Member Janani Ramachandran, the most senior member of the committee that revised the mayor's first draft of the budget, said the Cultural Affairs Manager position — which costs the city $300,000 annually in salary and benefits — was one of 300 open roles the council eliminated to close a $265 million budget deficit without laying off active employees. While Ramachandran said she had nothing against Bedoya, she described the position as a 'figurehead.' 'We don't have the luxury of having some of these roles that are morale-boosting to some people but don't serve the needs of the everyday struggling, starving artists that are in my community,' she explained, noting her artistic endeavors. (She sings with her partner in the R&B duo Wish U Were Us, in addition to producing events such as Oakland's Finest: Hip Hop Meets Gospel and Oakland's Diwali celebration, as well as performing with Woodminster Summer Musicals and the Laurel StreetFair World Music Festival.) But others revere Bedoya, including Archana Nagraj, executive director of Destiny Arts Center, a longtime Cultural Affairs Commission grantee. The notion that he was a mere figurehead is 'absolutely not true,' she contends, citing millions of dollars he raised for the city as well as the way he brought arts leaders together. Raquel Iglesias, who left her staff position in the Cultural Affairs Commission in May, also sang her former boss' praises. 'When I tell people I'm from Oakland, they're like, 'Oh my God, I have (Bedoya's) cultural plan on my desk. I look at it all the time,'' she said, referring to her experiences attending national convening on behalf of the city. When she accompanied him to these events, she added, 'I feel like I'm a celebrity's assistant.' Oakland reaped dividends from Bedoya's national renown, Iglesias continued, referring to outside money he brought to the city during his tenure: $7,775,000 from sources including the Mellon Foundation, the Surdna Foundation, the Bay Area Creative Corps, the National Endowment for the Arts and the CARES Act. 'Most private foundations do not want to give money directly to local municipalities,' Iglesias said, noting that Bedoya used his connections, expertise and creative problem solving to find pass-through intermediaries those foundations could accept. 'He had the relationships.' Vanessa Whang, who chairs the volunteer segment of the Cultural Affairs Commission, explained that other benefits of the manager's work, while less direct, are nonetheless meaningful. 'Anything that is positive about Oakland (in the national media) is about its culture,' she said. Ramachandran discounted those wins. Whang and Iglesias, in a joint interview with the Chronicle, expressed worry that Ramachandran might harbor longstanding ill feeling against the Cultural Affairs Commission, possibly leading her to target its leader. They cited a February 2024 city council meeting in which Ramachandran said, 'I have many concerns about what appears to be gatekeeping to all our commissions and boards in this city and those that use their power to quiet certain voices,' going on to name the Cultural Affairs Commission specifically. Ramachandran cited applicants to the advisory board whom she felt faced unnecessary barriers, including the DJ, consultant, entrepreneur and event and festival producer Ebodaghe Esoimeme, whose commission application was eventually accepted in March 2024 after an ethics review about his part-time employment with her. In a separate interview with the Chronicle, Esoimeme confirmed his frustration with the process. But Ramachandran firmly denied that her staffer's experience influenced her and fellow council members' decision to eliminate the cultural affairs position from the city budget. 'There's nothing personal,' she said, citing how the budget eliminates positions in sectors from the early childhood education program Head Start to efforts to combat homelessness. 'Everyone is mad at us for cutting something.' She argued that the alternative — keeping positions and services now only to run out of money midyear and axe them suddenly — is 'not fair to anyone.' She also noted that the role's elimination isn't permanent; Oakland can always reinstate it if finances improve. Whang, Iglesias and their allies are hoping they can persuade city leaders to amend the budget, possibly with funds from one of the areas that got an increase, to keep the Cultural Affairs Manager position. They hope to secure it before Leifheit, who most recently worked in San Francisco's Office of Economic & Workforce Development, departs in early November. (She told the Chronicle she's still considering her options for what's next but plans to stay local.) Yglesias and Whang homed in on a $1.4 million budget allocation for sideshow prevention. 'When you talk about public safety, a lot of the time, you need productive things for young people to do to keep them from getting into nonsense,' Whang said, positing art as a wonderful alternative. Nagraj, whose organization reaches 6,000 young people per year, agreed. 'If we are pitching fire stations versus the arts, that kind of an argument is really challenging,' she said. 'We need both.'

S.F. Pride is struggling. Here's why Oaklash is thriving
S.F. Pride is struggling. Here's why Oaklash is thriving

San Francisco Chronicle​

time13-05-2025

  • Entertainment
  • San Francisco Chronicle​

S.F. Pride is struggling. Here's why Oaklash is thriving

At a time when many LGBTQ organizations are struggling due to the elimination of government grants and sudden abandonment by corporate sponsors, the leadership at Oaklash is cautiously optimistic about the future. The nonprofit arts organization, which produces large-scale drag events year-round, is back with its signature Oaklash drag festival, from Friday-Sunday, May 16-18, and the lineup is stacked. The three-day queer celebration in Oakland will begin with the ApocaLipstick kickoff party at the downtown Oakland White Horse Inn, dubbed 'a party fit for the end of the world,' and book ended by Oaklash Kick Back, featuring workshops like queer calisenics and 'twerklates' (think pilates with twerking dance moves) and various performances. The centerpiece, its Saturday Block Party in old Oakland, boasts 60 performers and seven DJs over four blocks and two stages. They've even booked international drag performer Yvie Oddly, the winner of Season 11 of 'RuPaul's Drag Race,' as the headliner. But in spite of that marquee name, leaders said they're weathering the difficult climate for queer organizations because they've been focused on the Bay Area LGBTQ community. The organization has also been careful not to depend too much on any one type of funding and has made sure not to grow beyond its means. 'It's proof that something that we thought was sustainable — relying on corporations for our communities — is not a long-term solution,' said Mama Celeste, cofounder and executive director of Oaklash, referring to funding cuts organizations like San Francisco Pride have faced so far in 2025. Much of Oaklash's funding this year comes from individual donors and fundraising events, tactics that rely on community connections and goodwill rather than the whims of politics. This move by the now 8-year-old festival prepared them to navigate the current anti-Diversity, Equity and Inclusion moment the country is facing under the second Trump administration. Another pivotal decision that positioned the nonprofit for today's reality was launching year-round programming in 2023. While Oaklash was on a growth trajectory following a successful return to in-person programming in 2022, Mama Celeste said that now, 'the objective is stability and deepening our roots.' In keeping with Oaklash's mission, that means leaning 'more into the nonprofit sector and really think about the queer arts environment and queer nightlife economy as ecology-building,' explained Mama Celeste, who is also a drag performer. 'That's where my head is at as the executive director.' Although the organization lost a $14,000 festival grant from Oakland when the city cut their 2025 festival grants program, Oaklash Board President Charles Hawthorne describes the organization's finances as healthy. 'The thing we have learned repeatedly is we like to put our money into people who help create our events, and we also like to focus our efforts and our energy towards uplifting people and performers who are not uplifted in other areas of our community,' said Hawthorne. 'I think, in this moment when the resources are being taken away, what's been really beautiful to see is how much people are still excited about Oaklash.' Over the past two years, Oaklash has expanded beyond its signature festival into a year-round queer arts program, focused on producing large-scale drag events and mentoring emerging queer and trans leaders in nightlife. It's set up the Oaklash Disability Fund, offering unrestricted grants to disabled LGBTQ artists in the Bay Area. It's also made accessibility practices a cornerstone of its ethos, staffing events with ASL interpreters and exclusively presenting in ADA-compliant venues. Oaklash has also hosted a number of community workshops on issues ranging from arts funding and money management to makeup and wig artistry. In February, the organization even launched its first trio of artists-in-residence: performer and disability rights advocate Glamputee, performer and classical musician Obsidienne Obsurd and performer and visual artist Evian. Meanwhile, the organization has a long history of political and social advocacy, which Mama Celeste said the community 'demands of us.' That has included boycotting Israeli products due to the country's conflict in Gaza and resisting what co-founder Beatrix LaHaine has described as 'joy-washing' and the 'weaponization of kindness' as a way of avoiding addressing bigger issues beyond the LGBTQ community. 'It's not just joy for the sake of disassociating and coming together and forgetting about everything that's happening in the world,' said Mama Celeste. 'A big part of why we did this in Oakland to begin with is Oakland has always had that vibe where the community doesn't mess around out here.'

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