Mister Right, a transmasculine drag performer who is also a person of color, has only been performing for about a year but emerging onto the Philly scene hasn’t been easy.
They had steady gigs at Tabu but lost income after boycotting the venue following the ban of Leila Delicious, a Palestinian performer who wanted to include a sign about Palestinian liberation in her act.
“It’s like apples to oranges,” Mister Right said about the opportunities afforded to drag queens versus kings. There’s a palpable divide between the two communities. “Which doesn’t make sense because, on the surface, we do the same things.”
Some attribute that lack of work to a lack of awareness — that venue owners and event producers might not even realize that drag kings exist. Others complained that producers often rely on a handful of popular performers and seem to be “checking a box” when including them — that they don’t get to know the individual characters kings present and wrongly assume that including more than one will create a monotone experience.
“When I started, there wasn’t really a place in Philly for drag kings,” said Hannibal Lickher, whose drag journey began over 20 years ago performing in Delaware.
They estimate that today there are over 30 active kings on the Philly scene — and another king believed there are over 50. Both agreed only a small number of kings are working regularly though.
“There’s just a feeling of being lucky and very humble,” said Hannibal Lickher about scoring major gigs where they’re the only king selected for the cast. “But then there’s moments when I realize they should be doing better,” they added about ensuring more kings get opportunities. They said colleges tend to have more diverse casts.
Drag was the primary source of income for Eugene Rideher, a trans-masc, Korean-American drag king, before he too stepped away from performing at Tabu. He now works a day job to make ends meet.
“In nightlife in Philly, there is a priority to diversify the casting of shows in terms of race, but it kind of stops there, and there’s not really any thought or regard in terms of intersectionality,” he added.
The effects of mainstream media
Some believe sexism is a major cause of the differing experiences between queens and kings — explaining that a consistent pattern of labor disputes, wage controversies, and a queered but staunch version of misogyny have become major challenges.
Many have dealt with feeling otherized in dressing rooms. Some have been treated like they’re there to support queens — even being asked to get them drinks or assist them in their pre-show process before getting ready themselves. Others feel a lack of camaraderie and a strong sense of competitiveness in queen-dominated spaces that they don’t believe exists within king culture.
The impact of mainstream media might be at play. Mainstream drag culture is caddy, sassy, and filled with drama, the kings explained, putting pressure on queens to behave and embody their characters in a specific way.
“The thing that I love most about [drag king culture] is that there’s not a box to get into,” said Mo Betta — a drag artist who has been performing since 2004, when they joined the well-known DC Kings. They noted mainstream drag queen culture can include hegemonic interpretations of femininity, which is “a really tiny box.”
Mainstream drag contrasts with the subversive critiques and commentary drag kings and nonbinary drag royals tend to embody. Some are more focused on conceptual artistry in a way that doesn’t show up in mainstream culture.
“I like creating an opportunity to get people to think more about what they know about gender,” said Deej Nutz, a nonbinary drag royal. Unlike other performers, Deej Nutz doesn’t wear a chest plate or bind their chest to create a flatter appearance and like to queer the lines of gender binaries.
“With a lot of kings, there is a desire to be the voice of the counterculture,” explained Henlo Bullfrog, who explores “the horror and debauchery of queerness and the ways in which being revolting could be celebrated” with his drag art. He’d initially developed a drag queen character but struggled with perfectionism given the expectations and pressure associated with queen culture.
“All of drag really used to be part of the voice of the counterculture,” he noted. “But as ‘Drag Race’ has really come to prominence and now drag is part of even the national conversation, drag queens have become more of a voice of culture — arguably even becoming mainstream.”
This difference in approach to drag performance, some believe, could cause producers to believe they’re less marketable. But kings underline that audiences enjoy their more subversive takes.
“I think when you see art, it’s a little too perfect. It’s not as accessible,” he said about drag shows that mimic “RuPaul’s Drag Race.” “I needed a place to be silly, to be disgusting, to be off-putting, to be messy — not messy professionally but literally messy.”
“You can do the medium any way you like and your fellow kings will be screaming, cheering, and rolling on the ground when you step out onto that stage,” he added.
A pervasive stigma
Ken U. Knott, who was the 2018 winner of Philly Dyke March’s Mr. Philly Drag King competition, said drag has taught them a lot about their subconscious expectations for masculinity and has helped them make intentional choices about how to personally define and represent masculinity as they’ve continued to grow their character.
Performing is more about self-expression than social commentary for them, and they don’t plan to take the role full-time — but that also creates challenges when trying to find connections and the know-how for participating in the scene at all. They’re a shy person who would prefer not to use social media, but they feel pressured to keep an active account in order to remain relevant.
They and other kings said there are more opportunities for emerging queens to find and participate in drag families and noted that newbies only receive respect as performers once they’ve demonstrated that they’re “good enough” at the craft.
But with fewer learning opportunities — including incidental encounters in the dressing rooms, where performers often learn tips and tricks among their stagemates, there might not be a second king in the room to trade skills with. There are also fewer ready-made costume providers, retailers selling chest plates in multiple skin tones, and wig creators and facial hair providers that cater to kings.
Henlo Bullfrog, who is one of Sapphira Cristál’s drag kids, said this negative stigma — that drag kings and royalty aren’t as polished or entertaining as queens — creates a barrier to both performing and honing the craft.
He explained that competition judges don’t always understand drag kings — which can make contests less fair and less accessible. Other kings noted that an increase in contests requiring entry fees creates another barrier, as many kings don’t earn enough money to continually cover these costs.
Being the change
Mo Betta won the 2016 Philly Dyke March Mr. Drag King competition and launched a troupe, Loveher Boys, with the previous year’s winner — aiming to provide some structure and support for some of today’s kings.
They’d attended monthly meetings with opportunities to develop characters, clean up acts, learn new techniques, and get feedback from their community when they were part of the DC Kings.
“That was so close to being a student in any other form,” they said, noting that Philly needs to look to other cities to find models to build community and share resources among kings.
More recently, Mo Betta co-founded the Painted Mug Cafe, a sober space that intends to give power back to the performers by offering more freedom to produce their own shows.
Eugene Rideher and other kings have hosted events in the space, including a monthly amateur night. Eugene is also hosting UNMAS(C)ED: “A Trans-masculine Performance Revue” — a variety show to celebrate Father’s Day and the trans men in the community. The event will take place at Cockatoo on June 12 from 7 to 11 p.m, featuring drag kings but also trans men and transmasc singers, poets and dancers.
Deej Nutz would like to see a coalition form that could develop standards for producing shows that would help increase pay and job opportunities. They’re participating in a semi-regular all ages, kings-only brunch with Hannibal Lickher and Mister Right at Triple Bottom Brewing on Sunday, June 23 from 12 p.m. to 3 p.m.
Mister Right co-developed a database of drag kings in the area so kings developing shows can hire diverse, rotating casts and support one another.
They’re thankful when non-kings ask for references in an effort to include more kings in their own lineups, but instead of sharing the spreadsheet directly with non-king producers, Mr. Right shares contact information and implores non-kings to take their own advice about making new connections in the industry.
“I want them to do the same work they’ve asked us to do,” Mister Right said. “I needed to go to shows, introduce myself to producers, [and] support their events. What we need more of in this scene is the same effort in return.”
Henlo Bullfrog, who will be performing on the youth stage and on the sober stage alongside Ken U. Knott at Philly Pride, said he would like to see more drag queens approach new kings and royals to become mentors. He also wants to see one king hired for every eight queens per cast — which he said would land one king in just about half of Philadelphia’s drag shows.
“Just because we’re speaking as kings does not mean we don’t see and love every queen that has gone against the grain in a lot of ways,” he said. “Because these changes wouldn’t be possible without our allies.”
“There’s so much reason to hope. There are more drag king performers and nonbinary royals than ever,” he said. “They have created more space and made those potential future artists in the audience feel safer.”