Race/marketing/desire

June 26, 2006

A few weeks ago, I was on the phone with a friend of mine giving her a status update on my casting and telling her about the challenges of finding sexy and willing people who want to fuck on camera and have chemistry with one another. I made an offhand comment about the challenges of dealing with race: trying to hire people of color and asking potential scene partners if “race is an issue” – the universal tip-toeing sex industry phrase – which meant that I was giving them the space to say “yeah, I don’t do [fill in ethnic group of your choice.]”

She was a bit appalled, “Wait, you can do that? Isn’t that racism?”

Well, yes, but it’s cleverly described and disguised as personal preference. And this is where things get tricky. The question is – do you not find people of a certain race or ethnic background attractive simply because on the aesthetic level they don’t appeal to you, or does this preference belie ugly facts about race and beauty in this grand country of ours (something not at all “simple”)?

And then, throw some marketing into the whole thing and goodness me. A veritable minefield.

It is ignorant in that white liberal I-see-no-race-only-people way to assume that race is not an issue for performers and for consumers. It is and will continue to be. But the big question in my mind is how to acknowledge the desire for otherness or the desire to see interracial action – it is a real one – without pandering to that whole fetishization of the other thing (this is of course based don the perhaps faulty assumption that most porn buyers are white, though there is a an ethnic industry). And here’s the thing about “other” – in the world of sexuality but especially in the world of porn (which is much less nuanced than sexuality at large), the line between appreciation of difference and lecherous fetishizing of deviance is very, very thin.

Last week I was flipping through the Genesis Hot 100 Porn Stars special, and the girls of course are consistently thin and blonde – a few exceptions to the blonde thing, but the thinness is uniform. The exceptions are just that, and it’s a niche marketing thing in the business sense, not unlike alt porn. “But these are (brunette, black, asian, etc) people! Real people, not products!” you protest. Yes they are people – but this is a business of selling images of people and to pretend that packaging (race, size, etc) isn’t important is stupid. One of the things I constantly think about, hearkening back to when a few alt porn sites started having dudes model, is a question about porn: which is more powerful, the supply or the demand? Yes, porn companies make assumptions about what the market will bear and put out what they think people will buy, and people buy it in droves, while often also complaining about it. [An aside: seriously kids, if you don’t like it, don’t buy it, because if you keep buying the bad stuff, it will keep getting made, no matter how much you whine about it. Whine with your dollars, because that’s a protest that businesses understand.]

So what’s the answer? Is it not casting mixed races scenes in order to punish viewers who for whatever reason want to see interracial action (and thereby reward those who think interracial action is the worst thing ever)? Is it casting these scenes but not promoting them to people who might be interested in such a thing (again, for whatever reason) with box cover text that indicates interracial action? Or is it promoting the scenes judiciously because that market exists?

All around, it’s a tough call, and boils down to the complicated reality that possibly it’s racist to want to see ethnic content if you are not of that ethnicity or interracial content in general – and on the flip side of the coin, its possibly racist if you only want to see people of your race or ethnicity doing like-looking people.

Posted by Dacia at 06:22 PM | Comments (10)

Message of the medium

June 24, 2006

There’s a constant debate about The New Media, and its (it being the debate, but all the media itself) chock full of inflammatory and often technophobic remarks about the ways that blogs are taking over! with their bad pseudojournalism! There’s that, but then there’s the whole internet versus print media thing. One is realer than the other, because you can touch it and fold it.

Right, so one of the fears of course is that the internet will totally usurp print media, so the print media fights back by ignoring the internet - unless it is writing about the internet. And it’s interesting to see the ways that some press folks go along with this. For instance as Lex mentions, he and Viviane both emailed the press folks for the Exotic Erotic Expo and Ball and didn’t even get acknowledged. I on the other hand, coasted right in on the merits of my print magazine editor status. Maybe also boobs, but (I think) mostly print mag. Though there was a lot of print advertising for the EEB, there didn’t seem to be much of an online buzz generated around it, which seems to be a mistake. In the end though, it was written about online - though not so favorably, same as in print. There is definitely a flow from print into online media – that’s the stuff of plenty of blogs.

The other direction, from online to print – is a little slower. I’ve been thinking about this a lot recently in terms of my own career – it was really interesting to see this play out with Sex Worker Visions, which got crazy amounts of press online: Fleshbot, Wired, Suicide Girls, and plastered all over blogs, livejournals and myspace. My success in getting it written about in print, however, was minimal (except for that whole New York Times thing, which wasn’t really about the art show). Part of this is because I’ve cultivated a lot of relationships online (read: I show my boobies and blog a lot) while I am slowly but surely cultivating relationships with writers who do more print articles. Getting press, with lucky exceptions, is mostly about cultivating these relationships.

But it’s not just that – there is definitely a different value placed on online and print media. So maybe that’s a statement of the obvious. But I wonder: would my meteoric rise to infamy (or was it fall? these things are so confusing) and continued poverty (but poverty with a chaser of a quote in the New York Times, bitches!) have played out this way without being executive editor of a print magazine, or without pieces featuring me in Time Out New York and the Village Voice? There’s really no way to know, but its (at least mildly) interesting to think about.

Posted by Dacia at 09:11 AM | Comments (9)

Where the party's at

June 19, 2006

Two doses of party-like awesomeness this week:

Tuesday night @ Happy Valley (14 east 27th street) - my sexy friend and proud whore Houston Bernard will be performing, along with the Daisy Spurs. Its queer, slutty, dancey fun for all. Its kind of a late night thing… Houston goes on around midnight.

Wednesday night @ Happy Ending (302 Broome street) - the pride installment of Rachel Kramer Bussel’s (free) In the Flesh reading series, featuring my girl Jane Vincent, in from Texas for less than two days. Come say hi to her and listen to some dirty queer erotica. The reading runs from 8 to 10 pm.

That’s a lot of happy.

And let’s not forget that this coming weekend is the Mermaid Parade on Saturday and Gay Pride on Sunday.

Let the summer begin!

Posted by Dacia at 12:51 AM | Comments (0)

Exotic what?

June 18, 2006

This weekend I spent part of the day Friday at the Exotic Erotic Expo with the leading lady for my film (I am going to remain secretive about that for now), and then returned to Pier 94 last night to attend the ball portion of the festivities with my fellow $pread executive editor. I’m damn glad I went with her because we could share in our jadedness. It’s events like this that remind me how much I live (happily) in a little bubble, or even more accurately, a bubble within a bubble. The sex industry is a strange strange alternate universe, one that feels oddly like home. Well, sometimes.

Saturday morning, before the sex blogger’s tea and the ball, I did a photo shoot with Paul Sarkis. Before we started shooting, I asked him about how he ended up in the wild world of sex, and he said the thing I’ve heard echoed by many other people (or at least the ones I like and connect with) – it was a combination of intellectual and prurient interest, cemented by that feeling of homecoming. There are, to be sure, a lot of crazy and whacked out people in this industry – arguably more so than in other industries, perhaps because the sex industry is only recently becoming more professionalized, and so it attracts people who cannot function in any other part of the working world. However, the folks who are awesome are truly a step above your average awesome person.

But anyway – the Exotic Erotic Ball. Speaking of awesome – it really wasn’t. Being immersed in my little bubble of people who are highly critical of the sex industry while also loving and embracing parts of it in a rabidly idealistic way, I forgot that there are lots of people who aren’t totally jaded by it and are in awe of porn stars and whatnot. We call these people “civilians” in a slightly derisive tone – (the royal) we are not very nice. There wasn’t dress code to the evening, so people like me were dressed to the nines, but there were also many, many dudes wandering around in tank tops and shorts. Not to mention the high numbers of people in Halloween costumes – and not in a fetishy way, either. Peculiar and sort of amusing.

What was not sort of amusing, but probably something I’m going to have to get used to (diva-on-the-rise alert), was the way that said civilians acted around me and mine – there was lots of “stealthy” photo taking. Dude – I can see you, especially when you are dressed like a viking and the flash on your camera goes off when you are pointing it at me, and it is only polite to ask “Can I take a picture of you?” This is a little thing called objectification – and I felt it cut me like a creepy knife last night. There’s a self-kicking part of me that says – duh, of course involvement in this sex stuff begets creepiness and objectification. But but but, I say (to myself), I know what’s possible, and it can be beautiful and interesting - with depth and meaning and raunch without creepiness, and with the right kinds of objectification.

Because, like I said, I exist in this New York sexerati bubble, in which objectification exists with a tinge of heartfelt irony, in which the admiration of boobs doesn’t exclude the possibility of having a conversation with someone. I guess that’s the real kicker – of course last night I was putting my boobs on display in my lovely corset and I’m cool with being gawked at, revel in it even, but the boobs don’t make me less of a person, unapproachable, a photograph from a distance. Or not in my head – wait, that is the problem, the brains/boobs connection is not so easily made for everyone. Am I asking too much? Probably. Do I even know what I’m asking? Probably not.

Posted by Dacia at 10:36 PM | Comments (4)

They want your blood

June 16, 2006

Only - not really. You see, there are these restrictions on blood donation. You cannot donate blood if:
•You have ever tested positive for HIV,
•You have ever injected yourself with drugs or other substances not prescribed by a physician,
•You are a man and have had sex with another man, even once,
•You have hemophilia or another Blood clotting disorder and received clotting factor concentrate,
•You have engaged in sex for drugs or money since 1977,
•You have lived in western Europe since 1980,
•You have been held in a correctional facility (including jails, prisons and/or detention centers) for more than 72 hours in the last 12 months,
•You were born in, lived in or had sex with anyone who lived in, or received Blood products in Cameroon, Central African Republic, Chad, Congo, Equatorial Guinea, Gabon, Niger or Nigeria since 1977 (this list changes frequently; updates are very important) or,
•You are, or have been a sexual contact of someone in the above list.

There are also a whole lot of restrictions and deferrals (usually a year or so) with regards to certain medical conditions, medicines, and “other possible restrictions” – like if you’ve been raped you need to wait a year until you can donate blood. Likewise if you’ve had acupuncture.

Yes, it’s true that these days all incoming blood is tested – it’s also true that all these restrictions are based on the honor system. But the exclusion of high risk individuals is still a pretty loaded and interesting tactic.

Yesterday there was an editorial piece in the LA Times (free reg required, get a password from bugmenot.com) called, pointedly, Let gay men donate blood. This piece states that though 25 years ago it made sense to put this ban on gay men (when HIV was being called the “gay cancer”), today it does not, and the ban should be lifted. Though I agree, I also wonder about the long list of other bannable offences and how the editorial board feels about those.

But – wait for it – the best part is coming up. Perhaps to be less outlandish and radical and seem like their position has been more carefully considered, the editorial board suggests: “A temporary ban for gay men would still be needed. … So it’s necessary to exclude those who have recently had sex, even with condoms. But the new tests can detect the virus within 11 days, on average, after infection. A ban of several weeks or months should be sufficient.”

Oh yes, this is perfectly reasonable harm reduction.

Wait, no it isn’t. This is preposterous. In effect, this statement basically cancels out the “lift the ban” statement. While certainly there are men who have sex with men who go “several weeks or months” between sexual contacts, this is a pretty high bar to set for blood donors, especially because the general preference is for young, healthy, fit people. My unscientific conclusion is that people who match that are probably also sexually active. So – thanks for the empty gesture, LA Times, but think of a more realistic solution next time.

Posted by Dacia at 09:49 AM | Comments (5)

Post-everything

June 13, 2006

Via Fleshbot, I found myself procrastinating from writing while reading Am I Gay? - an advice website for people who write in with scenarios, thoughts and desires and want to know if this makes them gay.

I read a few but quickly lost interest (well, that’s not totally true – I was plenty interested in the act of procrastinating, so I kept reading, even though I was rolling my eyes). My reaction overall was – who cares?

Ok, yeah I know, this is a bit dismissive of people’s struggles with identity. I do have at least some respect for people and their personal journeys, but I can’t help but wonder why people are so keen on defining things, and why particular actions are what define identity.

The trend in risk reduction theory and education these days is to separate the act from the identity. Is AIDS a gay disease? Well, it’s possible to seroconvert through unprotected anal sex, which can unite semen with blood through tiny tears in the anus – and this is a kind of sex that many gay men like to have. But guess who else has anal sex involving penises and buttholes? Straight people. Cuz you know what? Everyone has an ass.

Ok, butthole diversions aside, the point is that acts don’t equal identity. This means that being a dude who likes anal sex doesn’t necessarily make you gay, and furthermore that even if you’re a dude who likes anal sex and one time tries it with a dude, that can’t make you gay either, because gay is an identity, not an act.

And furthermore (my, I’m soapboxy tonight) and back to my original point – what the fuck is the big deal anyway. What’s the concern over what “makes” someone gay or straight (or the amorphous realm of bisexual)? It’s all about what people think, probably. But seriously, who gives a shit? Sexuality is what happens between you and the people who you choose to experience it with, and it’s no one else’s to decide what it means and its really no one else’s business. (Unless you write about it on the internet. Doh!)

So is my thinking a sign of things to come? Well, I’m probably not THAT awesome, but I can hope. Maybe I should write a Letter To the Future about how I expect the concept of sexual identity to dissolve by year 2150 or some shit. And then pat myself on the back for a point well philosophized. But I think we’re starting to see a bit of this change in The Youths, where sexual identity is becoming more playground, less gospel.

Posted by Dacia at 11:51 PM | Comments (5)

Cast-o-rama

June 12, 2006

So one of the cool things about this whole porno director thing is that I get to hire people I jerk off to, and I can even tell them that and it’s a compliment, not sexual harassment. Seriously, there is really no other context in which a boss-type-person can, in an interview, say “You make me come when I look at you doing things. I would like to hire you.”

There are also many less awesome aspects of casting, like this thing where I have to try to hire people who will like to fuck each other. Coordinating other people’s chemistry is a fucking headache and a half. It is certainly a learning process, and I sure am learning. I hope not to mess shit up too badly, but I have had some interesting moments.

So the movie I’m making has a plot. In theory, I dig porno with a plot, but in practice I typically fast forward through that shit because seriously, I’m here for the fucking. So I’m attempting this delicate thing, where I want there to be just enough plot so that the viewer knows why these people are fucking each other, but not so much that it’s like, “dude, shut up and bone already.”

In one of my early casting sessions, I interviewed a dude who also has an off-off Broadway acting career, and he asked me a question I hadn’t thought about in any great detail: “What’s my character’s motivation?” It was pretty obvious that this had never occurred to me before, and I stammered, “Uhhh, he wants to do it?” in reply. I don’t think he was impressed.

I laughed to myself about it dismissively later – what, does he think this is a real movie or something? - but then I spent a day on Candida Royalle’s set in early April and I started to get it.

I don’t fancy myself any kind of master of method acting or whatever, but watching Candida prep her cast for their scenes, I saw how more developed characters could be a good thing and could give the movie an interesting texture. So as I’m sitting down to write my script, it’s something I’ll be thinking about an awful lot. Who are these people, and what drives them? Ok, maybe I won’t get too deep into it, but it should be kind of rad and hopefully a bit of that will come across on screen.

Posted by Dacia at 05:41 PM | Comments (4)

Porno non-pro

June 10, 2006

You know what’s hard? Porno casting.

I suddenly feel like I’m one of those dudes who wants to hire a “non-pro” hooker, because they want to see someone who doesn’t “need” the money, who likes sex (because apparently a pro can’t possibly dig her job), who doesn’t “do this” full time. These are the guys that ask, “so what do you do in real life?” during a session.

I want to hire performers who want to be in my movie, people who want to fuck for me. I want them to love what they do, and I want that to come through on screen. But I don’t want to be one of those annoying johns who demands something “real” or whatever, without respecting that this is a job.

But the thing is, there is a slightly different motivation for doing porn than for being an escort/call girl/hooker/prostitute (or “prosty” a word that the NY Post has used). Sure, it is and should be about the money, but it’s also about being seen. There is a certain glamour to porn that is less present in middle-range escorting, and porn performers certainly have their set of reasons for doing what they do, not the least of which is exhibitionism.

Sometimes when I read viewer’s criticisms of porn that ask for more authentic romance, the viewer part of me totally gets it, but the sex worker part of me - the part that understands that its a job, dammit - gets pissed. I would say that most people in the world aren’t capable of really shedding their inhibitions and being in the moment with a partner – while some porn performers are more capable of this than your average bear, it’s still a hell of a lot to ask. Do you have any idea how hard it is to fake romance? If you’re that good at acting or channeling your emotional energy, you might not be doing porno.

Point being, I feel like I’m dancing a careful dance – I want to hire people who get it and want to be in this particular movie for me personally, but I also want to make sure it’s not all about fun and games. Let’s face it, though I will make my best effort to make my performers happy and comfortable on set, having sex in a porno is different than having it in your own bedroom. And that’s work.

Posted by Dacia at 10:13 AM | Comments (2)

Comments

June 09, 2006

Yes, I know, my comments are fucked up. My aggressive anti-spam campaign seems to have made it difficult for real people to leave comments, while the spam comments are still coming through strong and nasty. I’m working on it.

Posted by Dacia at 09:17 PM | Comments (2)

Pornographic machinations, revealed!

This is a real serious post of awesomeness, let me tell you. As you know, I’ve been really busy, and I’ve been keeping some of it under my proverbial hat, being a lame ass, not blogging, et cetera.

And I can (finally) tell you why: I am making a porno movie. A real one, one that Adam & Eve is backing, one that I’m shooting here in New York City at the end of July, one that features boys doing boys, girls doing girls, strap-ons, and boys and girls doing each other, in all sorts of interesting combinations. Yeppers, it’s a bisexual feature movie (there’s even a plot!), and I’m hell damned excited about it. Ima gonna be a porno director.

Wild ride begin: now.

When I worked at the Museum of Sex, I did a lot of research on burlesque and I always found it hilarious when I’d run across these decadent advertisements for shows claiming “100 of the most beautiful girls in the world!” and at the very bottom of the ad, in small print, was another kind of ad: “wanted: 100 beautiful girls.” Well, I’m kinda doing that here – if you or anyone you know may be interested in doing it in my movie (especially if you are a bi dude), email me! I am especially looking for bisexual dudes who want to do it on camera.

Also: if anyone is interested in being my porno helper for the next two months, email me for details. I especially need help with pre-production details and you’ll get a good taste of the trials and tribulations of porno making. Locals preferred, but if you’re from elsewhere it’s still a possibility.

And for the rest of you, expect lots of ruminations on the process of being a first time director. Hijinks and hilarity, I tell ya!

Posted by Dacia at 11:10 AM | Comments (1)

BBB13: on stage

June 05, 2006

Dammit, I wrote a post and then deleted it like an idiot. Thats ok though, I can just default to showing more pictures of the black and Blue Ball. These are from the walking portion of the evening. I was assigned to walk (to the beat, which I think I roughly succeeded at) to the platform at the end of the stage bearing roses.

…then do a little playing around with our friendly corsted dancer/jester:

…then do some fellating of the roses, bite off the flowers and spit them at people:

And finally, throwing the remaining roses into the crowd:

And to answer the oh-so-many questions about the corset’s comfort: the ceramic corset was actually more comfortable than regular corsets because it can’t be tight laced. Corsets are good posture enforcers, and if they are correctly sized they realy aren’t at all excruciating. I wore this one for upwards of six hours and it really wasn’t a big deal - and its not that I’m insensitive to pain. You’ll notice that I’m wearing boots - I can only deal with foot pain for short stints, and that applies to other kinds of garment discomfort as well.

Photos in this post are all by kaitlyn tikkun.

Posted by Dacia at 03:51 PM | Comments (2)

BBB13: photo evidence

June 02, 2006

Me and the lovely Molly Crabapple, dresssed to kill.

Look how big my hair is! Wait, I bet you’re not even looking at my hair.

And who was the only model in the whole fashion show who was wearing glasses? Yeah, that would be me. Bespectacled babes represent!

Many more pictures to come, but for now… I’m out for the weekend.

Posted by Dacia at 10:31 AM | Comments (9)