Lypsinka, a self-proclaimed glamour goddess, is touring in a
solo appearance called Lypsinka! The Boxed Set. Towards the end of this 70
minute show she brandishes an oversize box of Life cereal to remind us of the show's title
and her ironic take on life. When she is not on stage (is this possible?), she is
John Epperson, a very unconventional drag artist who, since creating Lypsinka some 15
years ago, has attracted a cult gay following. She first came to San Francisco
around 1990, if memory serves, appearing at the late Josie's Juice Joint and Cabaret in
her first show that had already been a success in New York.
Today's Lypsinka is surrounded by superior production values:
good lighting and projections by Mark Simpson, an effective set by Jim Boutin, and
clever costumes by Bryant Hoven. Experience has given the diva a finesse and control
that any performer would envy. Her timing is sharp, her expressions are almost
electrifying, and she puts on a good show, aided by director Kevin Malony's rapid pace.
This is not a conventional drag act. There is no Judy Garland or
Barbra Streisand impersonation (although Bette Davis and Gloria Swanson, among others,
make appearances). Very few musical numbers are performed to completion.
Instead of taking the familiar route (gay man impersonates strong woman who is
idolized for her resilience and fortitude) to give us cameo appearances of stars in song
and attitude, Epperson has something much more complex in mind. Lypsinka is a
conceptual artist, kaleidoscopic (even phantasmagoric) in her reach. The evening, in which
Epperson never utters a word, is entirely lip-synched. He has put together an
extraordinary collage of female voices (some recognizable, others not, to these ears)
taken from film sound tracks and other recordings. If you have never before been in
the presence of Lypsinka, prepare to be confounded.
Just as most drag acts glorify the woman who is determined to
rise above her circumstances, Epperson tries to get to the essence of female
"personalities" who are desperate to be loved and seek your approval while
also admitting they are "bad." Both approaches resonate with a gay
sensibility. There are echoes of the women portrayed on screen by the likes of Joan
Crawford. However Epperson uses less material from the 40s and more of 60s and 70s
vintage, such as Faye Dunaway as she was in Chinatown. The show opens with
Lypsinka's signature--a ringing telephone, moving swiftly into a number appropriately
titled "An Opening Song" and then segues into a Swanson pose from Sunset Boulevardto the
spoken dialogue "I'm losing my mind."
The sound collage moves rapidly from one snippet to another, using
ironic juxtaposition together with thematic repetition ("I'm going to sing a song--if
you don't love it I hope at least you'll love me." "I'm a monster.
Get me out of this cage!" "I'm a bad bad bad bad bad woman, but I'm good
good good company."). This is performance art and Epperson is an allusionist
more than an illusionist. The selections go by so quickly, it becomes impossible to
identify all the source material. A lot of it is obscure. How many people
remember the musical The Apple Tree and its wild third act version of Jules
Feiffer's "Passionella" where a subway bag lady is transformed into a voluptuous
Marilyn Monroe figure to a song "I'm Gorgeous!"? Part of the song is in
this show.
Obviously Epperson has put a lot of work into assembling his material.
Ten years ago, expecting to see the likes of Charles Pierce, an encounter with
Lypsinka was confusing. Epperson has sharpened the focus of his message over time.
The audience was filled with adoring fans, but there were puzzled faces as well.
To one degree or another, drag has always been political theater. He adds a
psychological element as well. It gives you something to think about after the fun
is over.
