When Judith Butler argued in their groundbreaking 1990 work Gender Trouble that gender is performance it came as a shock to many moored in a normatively proscriptive gender milieu. But in the years since, as Butler’s invocation morphed into the new hermeneutic standard, many began to argue that gender expression was not just performance, but art. All of this, of course, was old news to drag performers, who in the US had been engaging in the creative practice of gendered spectacle since at least the 1880s and 1890s when William Dorsey Swann, a former enslaved person, held lavish drag balls in Washington D.C..

The Art of Drag, a show curated by Jessica Rehfield-Griffith and lead consultant RiRi Calienté of the House of Calienté at the A.N.Bush Gallery, takes this legacy seriously (or at least as seriously as the boisterous entendres of drag allow). Ascending the stairs of the show one immediately enters a rich tapestry of drag innovation, from a long history of drag to its contemporary political and cultural touchstones. Here, the color and vibrancy of drag is on full display, a shimmering collection of wigs, gowns, and drag accoutrement juxtaposed with placards that serve to contextualize the larger history drag is a part of.

When asked about the impetus behind the show, Rehfield-Griffith opined that Salem Arts Association came to them seeking to do an exhibition centered on drag. And so, fresh off of a previous SAA exhibition titled Queer Love (February 2 – February 25, 2024) which was a first for the organization in terms of explicitly LGBT oriented shows, they agreed. Together, they note, these shows have highlighted a different existence for the SAA, both in terms of expanding diversity for their shows, while also using those new conceptual avenues to shine a light on the pedagogical potentials of artistic practice.

The Art of Drag, takes this to heart, expertly stressing the ways in which education can be most impactful when it is experienced interactively. One can trace the textures of robustly sequined drag queen dresses and even stand in front of a mirrored vanity that doubles as green room staging area for drag performances and art installation, placing eye shadow, mascara, and jewelry at your fingertips; highlighting the stakes of your own gendered performance amidst the shows other curios. This is also emphasized textually in the informative placards circulated throughout the show which chart the history of drag from the national to the local scale, grounding you in the resonant history of gender play.

According to Rehfield-Griffith, SAA had a title for the show and that was it, everything else was open to their curation. This was no singular endeavor, however, with about 30 people directly contributing to the show: donating clothes, performing, and providing background info on the local drag scene. In this, the interactivity for patrons of the show, mirrors that of its organization, a community event galvanized by community engagement.

While the artifacts and history lessons impart context, the real stars of the show are, of course, the drag performers themselves. They are extravagantly showcased in large photographic portraits, as well as appearing for several live performances over the show’s month-and-a-half long run. RiRi Calienté, in particular, has been central, hosting performances as well as contributing dresses, insights, and interviews to the show. As Rehfield-Griffith makes clear, this is “not just a show about, but a show by” drag performers.

To this end, they also made it clear how important it was that the show highlight the local flair of the Salem queer community. A sense of place is thus evident not only in the objects the show centralizes, from large wooden set pieces that once graced the walls of a local LGBT haunt, but with the performers themselves, all from the Willamette Valley, and many, including RiRi, staples of the Salem drag scene. Personal relevance, community engagement, and furthering education about drag come to the fore as the collective conceptual weight of the show. Here, the real power of artistic performance comes into full view: a meeting point of community engagement as an educative mechanism of joy with drag as its vehicle, Salem-style.

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There has been push back, however. The show has received numerous online comments falsely decrying drag as “indoctrination,” an indication of a political climate which has focused outsized energy on the demonization of transness and any perceived gender deviance. Trans scholar Julia Serrano recognizes this as a weaponization of “social contagion” theory, the means through which stigmatized minorities are viewed “as ‘contaminated’ and capable of ‘corrupting’ supposedly “pure” ingroup members (particularly women and children).”

During Rehfield-Griffith’s “My Own Flag to Raise” residency, at SAA in 2022, a Portland artist echoed to Rehfield-Griffith that same language of “indoctrination,” a dog whistle signaling, amongst other things, a false link between drag (and gender non-conformity more broadly) with grooming. This, in addition to hateful social media posts and some in-person offhand comments, stand in stark contrast to the messages of support most show patrons have given.

All of this, however, served to reinforce the need for further educational components for The Art of Drag. Both in the show itself, as well as behind the scenes, there was an impetus to preempt those antagonisms. While Rehfield-Griffith says “the national conversation has a way of misinforming people,” this show instead offers something much more robust, continuing, “this is creative work…we wanted to demystify drag.”

Part of that work necessitated unpacking the relationship between drag and transness, as all too often they can be made to be synonymous with one another, both by those supportive of the LGBT community, as well as by people with more nefarious intentions. To this end, while several of the performers in the show identify as trans, non-binary, or gender non-conforming, it is made apparent that drag is not reducible to latent trans identity, or vice-versa.

Instead, The Art of Drag manages to weave both stories together in their mutually constitutive storied history, understanding the vitriol that both groups face, as well as the solidarity that can emerge from an understanding of identarian expression that emphasizes the joy of personal autonomy; an imperative made especially pressing in a political climate so hostile to marginalized people of all ilks.

By providing this space, SAA has given the greater Salem community access to something special, something Rehfield-Griffith says is a “window into the world of drag artists themselves” and somewhere “people who know less can learn something and people who are part of the community can find out that there’s a deepness,” one you don’t have to have read Judith Butler to understand.    

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The Art of Drag was on view from July 5th – August 25th at the A.N. Bush Gallery in Salem. The A.N. Bush Gallery is located in the Bush Barn Art Center located at 600 Mission St. SE in Salem and is open from noon to 4 p.m. Wednesday through Sunday. The next exhibition at the A.N. Bush Gallery will be Indigenous Northwest curated by Steph Littlebird.