Dr Duckie’s Magazine at the RVT, July 2021

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Dr Duckie’s Magazine at the Royal Vauxhall Tavern on 14 July 2021 was a celebration (hosted by myself in ‘Dr Duckie’ mode) of two of Duckie’s long-running community projects: The Posh Club, an afternoon cabaret tea dance for older people based in a handful of English locations; and The Slaughterhouse Club, a drop-in arts project based in Thames Reach homeless hostels in south London.

It was a good moment to champion these projects, which I participated in for my PhD studies but aren’t normally accessible to general audiences. Both have marvelous new pieces of public-facing documentation available – The Posh Book and a short Slaughterhouse Club film respectively – and the Slaughterhouse Club’s five-year run recently came to an end.

Here’s my semi-doppelganger, Dicky from Duckie, modeling The Posh Book, edited by Kathleen Bryson.

It was also a chance to share Dr Duckie’s Homemade Mutant Hope Machines – The Zine, which boils down into eight little pages my doctoral research about how projects like these work to routinely sustain belief in the possibility of better worlds.

Download the Homemade Mutant Hope Machines zine here.

The day had an unconventional schedule. In the afternoon, a celebration of The Posh Club ran for those already involved in the Club as guests, volunteers, producers or performers. Club regulars came in from Crawley on a coach and Hackney on an open-top double-decker bus, making a sensational arrival round the side of the Tavern.

There were so many present in the end that, given pandemic safety restrictions, the audience had to be divided into two: one group inside the pub and another in the outdoor seating area. So those of us in the spotlight found ourselves on a carousel, presenting material on-stage indoors then bounding outside to do it again.

As well as sharing highlights from the Posh Book, we had glorious turns from Club favourite Black Elvis and PC*DC (Posh Club*Dance Club), the in-house troupe comprising performers from the Club’s audience of over-60s. Choreographed by H. Plewis, they’ve played at Sadler’s Wells and Duckie’s Gay Shame events before. Resplendent in brightly-coloured bespoke boiler suits, they brought Vauxhall to a standstill performing in the shadow of the double-decker and the freshly painted nearby Pride-themed mural.

It was also very special chatting to Club co-founder (and Duckie co-founder Simon’s sister) Posh Annie. She shared the Club’s origins and the methods it found to keep its members connected during the pandemic (such as ‘doorstep’ theatre and online shows). Annie also described how the whole Club experience had boosted her own confidence – hence being able to stand in sequins and flowers off a busy interchange in broad daylight, cyclists and rush-hour traffic whizzing past, holding forth on a PA to a rapt audience.

It felt joyous for everyone to be able to come together, in whatever way, after such a tough year and half. The familiar Posh Club feeling of love, support, service and celebration came back in a flash. It’s always nourishing just to be at the RVT and the team were on great form. And one Posh Club guest told me about being a regular at the Tavern decades back, when the Gardens were still streets, making for a touching connection.

So in the afternoon we did all that twice, inside and out. Then in the evening, we did it a third time – this time for a more general Duckie crowd without much knowledge of either Club.

And after that, the evening continued with the section about The Slaughterhouse Club. It’s probably the least familiar Duckie project to those not directly involved though it was made and run by veteran regular Duckie collaborators, artist Robin Whitmore, photographer/filmmaker Tim Brunsden and director Mark Whitelaw.

It was an honour to share a bit more about the project with the RVT crowd. My sense was that, as with The Posh Club, many in the audience were deeply moved to hear how The Slaughterhouse Club helped many people living unusual and difficult lives to find new forms of expression, confidence, pleasure and solidarity. Insisting on homeless people’s right to fun is a radical act.

After we screened the subtle, raucous and moving short film created by the project’s makers, I spoke to Robin and Tim about the process of the whole project. The sensitivity and complexity of the work was evident in their descriptions of the sometimes glacial pace at which participants got involved, the depth and range of artistic expression unleashed in the group and the strangely mixed effects of the pandemic. On the one hand, only one person at the hostels was actually diagnosed with covid; on the other, the inevitable restrictions on in-person meetings left the project feeling somewhat like it fizzled out. For me, though, this seemed fitting for a project always distinguished by a queer interest in process over goals and valuing the ephemeral over the permanent.

The night was rounded off in sensational style by the incomparable performer and artist, and Duckie legend, David Hoyle. David gave a special guided tour of the fruits of The Slaughterhouse Club – a slideshow presentation combining reproductions of works made with some of Tim’s documentary photography. As well as looking exquisite in an aptly artsy Twenties-style bob and shift (with assistance from Darren Evans) and being on glitteringly sharp and charismatic form, David’s political identification with the project was beautiful and galvanising.

He strikingly rejected any inclination toward validating the Club’s work through reference to bourgeois art-history lineages or glib recovery narratives, championing it on its own terms and raising a glass to each of the artists shown. This was at once a celebration of the distinctive sensibilities, talents and rights of those left outside and a takedown of the forces leaving them there.

For me, the whole day was a huge privilege – what luck to be back among such wonderful people, on and off stage, in such a wonderful place, celebrating such wonderful work. (And once again to get to see Duckie producers Simon, Dicky and Azara keep the wheels turning with such aplomb.) It made me hopeful anyway.

Stay tuned for news on when you can get The Posh Book and watch The Slaughterhouse Club film.

Find out more about Dr Duckie’s research here.