
Photograph by Kevin A. Roberts
WEB EXCLUSIVE: CLICK HERE FOR A BEHIND-THE-SCENES LOOK AT ONE OF LOLA VAN ELLA'S BURLESQUE CLASSES.
Her real name is Leah Schumacher. And she’s not a morning person. She comes downstairs from her apartment to her Cherokee studio and plops down on the cream brocade chaise wearing her pajamas—leggings and an overshirt—with a coat thrown over them, and a fuzzy, shimmery cream scarf. No makeup—that will come later, with the rhinestones and feathers and tassels and fringe. Lola is St. Louis’ queen of burlesque. And she moves into and out of outfits as easily as you and I blink.
What’s the essence of classic burlesque?
An exaggerated femininity. It’s kind of like a female female impersonator—like being in drag, although obviously I’m a born woman. It’s taking all of your natural assets and amping them up.
It’s hip again, in a retro way, but what was its heyday?
The 1930s through the 1950s—the Gypsy Rose Lee aesthetic. The idea we have now came from that period. But burlesque started, of course, hundreds of years ago.
So is the body type retro, too?
Yeah, it’s that ’30s and ’40s ideal—more Rubenesque, more hourglass. In general, burlesque leans toward women with curves. I’m very small, but that’s just me naturally.
Could you have performed and taught burlesque in the ’60s, when women were burning bras for a different reason entirely?
We were just talking about that! We were in Nashville, and they have really strict laws on nudity. We said, “We fought long and hard to not have to take our clothes off. And now we want the right to do it!”
So what does Nashville law prohibit?
Certain parts of your body are considered obscene.
Like nipples?
Oh, nipples are obscene everywhere. No, like the sides of your boobs. It’s such a small little part of the body, just a couple more inches of flesh being shown, but it means huge fines. I do actually appreciate the idea of leaving something to the imagination. There is something great about having those laws in place and then seeing what people come up with. You have to costume very creatively, add things like feathers…
What’s illegal in St. Louis?
Apparently, there are some new laws on the books, but I’m going by the ones I’m aware of and acknowledging! As long as you are wearing pasties and covering your private area, it is legal. I mean, not walking down the street that way, but in a venue.
How is burlesque different than stripping?
With stripping, it’s just, “Get her naked.” With burlesque, you have costumed yourself thoughtfully, and you are trying to create a piece of theater. I’m trying to take those people on a journey with me, and I want them to believe it, not think halfway through, “Oh, that rhinestone isn’t attached properly.” I want the audience to be lost in the moment. I want to be blinding them with my sparkliness.
So you don’t believe this objectifies women?
Not at all. Burlesque is not in-your-face like stripping. It’s about the double-entendre, the wink and nudge. And even when I end up in my nethers and there’s nothing left but gorgeous Swarovski crystals and heels and jewels and makeup—to me, there’s nothing really naked about that. You are in this vulnerable position, but you have taken total control over it.
Half of your audiences are women. What about gay men?
Often, they love it. The cattiest will get mad and say things like, “I would look better in that!” Their reaction’s based in a different mind-set; they are not lusting. Although one guy did compliment me afterward—he said, “I got confused for just a minute.”
Is there male burlesque, too?
Oh, sure. Boylesque is more cheeky, theatrical, sometimes funny. Most people think it’s supposed to be cheesy and silly, but The Stage Door Johnnies from Chicago have really tight group choreography. They are trying to take the audience on a theatrical journey, too.
And at the end of that journey?
You strip everything away, but you are still left in this fantasy. It’s really beautiful to see the woman or man behind that costume, empowered—that word is tired, but there’s kind of a raw awesomeness.
Don’t you find it odd that there’s still interest in burlesque, when people get naked so readily on every screen?
I think that’s maybe why burlesque is succeeding, because people are sick of it, this whole in-your-face sexuality. The burlesque woman is intending to be glamorous and be a tease and be theatrical. The rest is just about sex, and it’s usually about sex to sell something else. Sex on a platter.
So instead of getting served up for quick consumption, burlesque is—?
Selling a moment. “Ah-ah-ah, you don’t get it until I say so.” Waiting until they peel off their glove. All these things are just delicious.
It’s a bit of a mind game, but it’s also spectacle.
Showgirls are just fascinating. There is something beautiful about the human body when it is presented a certain way. It’s knowing how to create beautiful shapes and lines with your body.
What moves work?
The old ones. The shimmy. The bump and grind—bumping hips and doing circles. Pinup poses—strike out a leg and arm. Any move where you are creating a silhouette. You don’t want to be physically mumbling. You don’t want the movement to be muddled; you want it exaggerated. You are going for specificity. I see messy burlesque—they don’t know how to put punctuation on the end of their sentences. You have to really control what your body is doing.
What else makes a performance good or bad?
Timing. So often I see bad performers who just aren’t listening to the music. The untrained eye doesn’t know why the act’s bad, but there’s a lack of attention to detail. Great performers hit all of the cymbal crashes, keep time with the drumbeats, match the emotion of the music.
And costumes seem to matter, while they’re on. What materials work best?
Things that are sexy are things that hang off of and are close to the skin, like beaded fringe. They are touching you, and they move. Things that sparkle. Rhinestones. Feathers. Satin. Silk. There’s a subconscious reaction—this need to touch it. And when you are wearing it, you want to touch it, too. With a satin glove, you are touching the glove and then as you slide it off, you are touching your skin. I don’t care about seeing T&A—if you can make me quiver by showing me your wrist, that’s an accomplishment.
Where do you start, when you’re developing an act?
You can start with a costume you want to build on or a piece of music or a role you have always wanted to play. One girl wanted to be a poodle. She also did Mr. Potato Head.
These are not sounding sexy.
That’s what makes them genius. Sometimes burlesque is really silly or ridiculous to start. She found this really adorable 1950s song about a potato, took off the potato glasses, the eyes, the lips; she made it flirty and funny and sexy. Great burlesque can be hilarious. The word literally means to parody or mock something.
What was burlesque in Shakespeare’s day?
Bawdy, working-class mockeries of traditional theater. Then it turned into gender play, with women wearing pants and spitting like men, and doing things that were not OK in society. And then it was just like vaudeville. The strippers kind of stole burlesque. Stripping didn’t happen until the late ’20s.
How did it start?
Rumor is, it started as an accident—“Oops! I just dropped my overskirt!” It worked so well, they kept doing it. Minsky’s kept getting raided, and burlesque dancers ended up in jail all the time for indecency.
How did you pick your stage name?
My signature song was “Whatever Lola Wants,” and right away they said, “You have to be Lola.” I didn’t want to be Lola—too cliché. There were too many Lolas. But…it fit. So I built the name from there: I’m German, I love Ella Fitzgerald, and Van Ella sounded like vanilla.
You have a troupe called The Bon-Bons. Where do you perform?
All over! And in St. Louis, we do a monthly show called The Beggar's Carnivale, a big gypsy carnival with burlesque in it. I produce it with a friend, Sammich the Tramp.
Who’s really…?
Kyla Webb. She does a Charlie Chaplin–style act. And every few months, I produce the St. Louis Burlesque Showcase at Off Broadway. It’s a recital for all of my students, and the local celebrities in the scene perform, too.
Just how many local burlesque celebrities are there?
At this point, probably half a dozen. The best are Gravity Plays Favorites—they get flown all over the world. One looks like Clara Bow, and the other like Bettie Page, and they do what they call polesque. They’ve challenged the idea of what a pole dancer is: the bubbleheaded skinny blonde that spins around but doesn’t really do anything. They look strong, and they’re graceful and acrobatic.
And how does one become a “burlesque queen”?
I never coined that for myself. But it’s been given to me. I’ve been called the “burlesque queen of St. Louis” many times, and I was first runner-up for Queen of Burlesque in the New Orleans pageant. It’s just a title, but titles are great for résumés.
How did you launch this career?
I’ve been singing and dancing and acting since I was a little girl. I was singing jazz cabaret when I joined up with the Alley Cat Revue, St. Louis’ first burlesque group. That was five years ago—I was 24. There was no one to teach us, so we learned by doing. We were probably awful!
Do you ever have wardrobe malfunctions?
Oh yeah, but they’re never disasters. They’re always funny. People want to see you handle it. You gracefully cover and go, “Whoops!” [she adds a cute giggle], but you never run off the stage, because then you have lost. Competing in New Orleans, I was doing this housekeeping act with a huge can of frosting and a spatula, very June Cleaver, and I’m singing, “If I Knew You Were Coming, I’d Have Baked a Cake,” and at the end I’m doing this big reveal where I’m supposed to turn around, and I’d lost a piece of my costume. So I just put the spatula there and stood, and people loved it. I’d come out covered in pink sparkly fabric, pearls, hair up, long gloves, so they thought I’d just be cutesy. That it went from the innocent ideal to the naked shocking thing made it a significant act. I’ve been asked to perform it in other cities.
What’s universally sexy?
Confidence. It’s less about a physical look than it is about an attitude. Some women walk in and command attention, and there’s a physicality about that confidence. Chest lifted, that arch in your back, your head held high, and there’s a grace in your presence. And honesty is sexy. Honesty in your intentions, in your movement, in your presentation. That, and a great pair of heels.
Lola Van Ella’s second annual Show-Me Burlesque Festival runs May 12 through 14. There will be five shows—the first at City Museum—and more than 50 performers, some of whom perform internationally. Find details at showmeburlesque.com.