Beltane Bulletin: Life Is a Kabarette

For the past few Fridays, I've wanted to check out this Floating Kabarette at Galapagos Art Space in DUMBO, but something or other always got in the way despite its price being right ($0.00). Last night, however, apropos of May Day and Beltane, it all worked out beautifully and sexily, despite--or perhaps helped by--the rainy, swimming-pool humid weather that encouraged more people unwinding from a long week to stay home. I recruited two very dear, twisted friends who I knew would appreciate what promised to be an evening of salacious entertainment.

I always dig walking around in DUMBO. It's very easy to get lost on the winding cobblestone streets, but you can always get a whiff of sea air and stumble across a warehouse turned into a gallery, an upscale home-furnishing store, a bar, or a restaurant. I'm not sure what housed this space on Main Street before Galapagos moved down from its original digs in Williamsburg, where I read smutty fiction frequently, but several decades back it was most likely a warehouse. Inside there is two-level seating, very cozy and loungey with round tables and vinyl half-moon couches...and most impressive of all, the "floating" aspect of the main level: the reflecting pool bisected by a metal walkway.

We snagged a table right up front by the stage. The emcees of the Floating Kabarette were a hilarious duo named Olga and Bjorn, who suggested some highly suggestive activities they wanted to perform with various performers and audience members, but it was done in a smiling, iron-curtain accented, faux naïf style that made them endearing instead of ickily predatory. Best of all was when they managed to make each other "jealous" by leaving each other out of their respective fantasies, then broke into a full-fledged dance performance.

Also best of all was when my extroverted friend volunteered when Olga and Bjorn asked for one and, with a little help from yours truly, won a free drink and a free treat pulled from the ass of a piñata donkey. She knew there was vodka in a Greyhound, but I was a pinch-hitter for the grapefruit juice component. Fortunately the drink she won wasn't a Greyhound, possibly my least favorite mixed drink, but a Cosmo made with rose liqueur. Floating on top were actual rose petals. The treat from the piñata was a delicious Polish chocolate wafer bar. I had no idea they whip up such fine candy bars over there; they make Hershey's look sick.

I've been a fan of burlesque for about five years, and Harvest Moon did not disappoint, nor did Lisa Natoli, the aerialist whose long sheet hung down from the ceiling and gave everyone on both levels a great view as she wound and unwound herself in improbable ways, accompanied by a cool little song about a woman who announces she has no intention of falling in love. My favorite act, however, was Nicole Renaud, who played the accordion and sang hauntingly lovely French songs. Such a bewitching chanteuse she was. Now I want to listen to accordion music and Edith Piaf.

But during an intermission things got out of hand in the alleyway. Robert is a professional photographer, and Robin really should be in the movies. At first she and I just stood against the wall like dissolute party girls waiting on line for something important--concert tickets, or the loo--but then a mock catfight ensued; I "snatched" Robin's purse and she pulled my hair like we were B-movie chicks. Some dude crouching at the back end of the alleyway with his CrackBerry kept looking over. Maybe I'll suggest live B-movie women's prison yard tussles to Galapagos as new entertainment. It would have to be performed onstage, though, because the alleyway is only as wide as I am tall, and that is not saying very much.