By Natalie Ristovski
Bernie Dieter is a consummate artiste. Channeling the long gone spirits of Weimar Berlin and dragging them screaming and crooning to life for new generations, Dieter cups them all in the palm of her crimson-clawed hands, shaping and molding her captive audience into exactly what and where she needs them to be throughout the rip-roaring feast that is her Club Kabarett.
As a spectacle, the show and its current home in the Melbourne Meat Market draw patrons unapologetically across the threshold into another world, where drag queens and circus performers mix it up with fetish-inspired fashionistas, queers and coquettes. Everyone is welcome in Dieter’s playground – would-be libertines and cabaret virgins, long term fans and aficionados rubbing shoulders with aging artistes and tourists in shimmering ensembles. You know it’s going to be a good night when most of the crowd look like extras from Moulin Rouge or Eyes Wide Shut respectively, and as the liquor flows and the freak flags fly (literally, well placed roving cast hand them out like candy to whomever they deign worthy with a kiss or a haughty sniff), the anticipatory tension in the room is palpable.
Any words used to describe the inimitable Bernie Dieter at work and play would seem trite, such is the magnitude of her incredible talent and charm. Stepping onto the stage with an almost terrifying grin, the reverence and sheer gravitas she embodies while on display both enraptures and unbalances onlookers, who don’t always seem entirely prepared for the emotions being drawn out of them at any given moment. Such is the power of a born performer, and the almost cosmic magnetic pull of their gravitational sphere, giving as much as they take in a symbiotic exchange with their patrons…and Dieter gives in spades. Her vocal talents, quick wit and innate warmth permeate the room – there is no doubt that she loves what she does, and the audience loves (and fears) her right back.
As a show, Club Kabarett is a good solid experience with a stellar lineup of ridiculously talented performers. Home-grown stars abound – Brisbane’s Jacqueline Furey sets the stage alight with some of the best pyro-play I’ve seen in a good long time, and Melbourne contortionist Soliana Ersie, who looks to be having an absolutely wonderful time onstage, is as amazingly talented as she is endearing, playing with her audience and revelling in their awe and well deserved raucous applause. The entire experience plays out like a well-practiced orchestra, with maestro Dieter at the helm hitting each beat of the emotional rollercoaster in perfect time and tempo, and the resident Vier band accompanying the host’s soaring vocals to perfection.
Of course it wouldn’t be Weimar, nor would it be cabaret without some poignancy and political activism thrown into the mix. Lest the more conservative libertarians in the audience get too comfortable, Dieter does not fail to remind everyone just who and what she stands for – her strategically pro-choice ensemble during one of the more resonating vocal pieces of the evening is a clear fuck-you to the status quo, met with resounding applause and a handful of sullen scowls from members of the audience, the latter of whom clearly believe that freedom of expression should begin and end with a velvet blazer and a fedora. Their discomfort is palpable, and Dieter makes sure to draw it out as long as possible so we all know it too.
The theme of the evening is, however, not about division but connection. From the outset of the anarchy when draping herself over a myriad of audience members, inviting them to stroke her body (and then carry her bodily onto the stage), to a song much later in the night where she pads barefoot through the crowd and holds their hands, Dieter’s message is primarily one of intimacy and kinship. In a world that is currently “fucked” (her word, though who could disagree?), the importance of human connection has never been greater. It is a message that underlies almost every part of Club Kabarett, and an apt one for our times. Why should we fear what is different and allow it to divide us, Dieter posits, when there is such a wonderful myriad of individualism in the world? Within the gin-soaked walls of Club Kabarett, with its beautifully casual nudity and defiance of gender norms, it is easy to imagine a better type of existence, where difference is celebrated and embraced by all.
Much like the underground cabarets of old, Club Kabarett is both a celebration and a call to arms, a decadent jewel in a swiftly tarnishing crown that shines as a stark reminder of the power of art and imagination in times of political and social unrest. Never has the world needed the fringe arts – burlesque, drag, cabaret – and the likes of Bernie Dieter, as much as it does now. The future may well be uncertain, but the beacons of our most treasured and subversive artistes will continue to shine on, guiding us ever onwards through the darkest nights of the soul.
Club Kabarett plays at the Meat Market until May 11. Do yourself a favour and imbibe.
