Burlesque Yoga: Straight Article

Article in The Georgia Straight
Vancouver's Premiere Arts and Entertainment Newsmagazine Publish Date: 26-Jan-2006

Yoga a-go-go
By janet smith

The first clue we’re not at a standard yoga class is the 1920s bump-and-grind jazz playing as women enter the studio. The next is the pile of Hawaiian leis spilling out of an open vintage suitcase. And then there is Little Woo, the upbeat instructor greeting us at the door: she’s dressed in a polka-dot bikini top and grass skirt instead of the usual Lululemon wear.

Welcome to Burlesque Yoga, a new fusion that could only have been born in Vancouver—a city where the underground retro-striptease scene has evolved into regular club nights and where Ashtanga and Bikram studios are almost as ubiquitous as Starbucks outlets. Recently launched by Woo, a spiritual practitioner who dances at shows like last November’s Toy Box cabaret at the Red Room, it seems like a natural meld. But she recognizes that not all will see it that way.

“There are people who think burlesque is a profane thing and taboo. I wanted to do something that connected the two,” Woo says. It’s a couple of days before the class, and she’s relaxing in her exotic East Side den, decorated with silk lanterns, hot-orange walls, and a leopard-print lounger. “The vision is to teach workshops to help women feel more sensual and connected, and that there’s no shame in it. I’d even go so far as to say I consider it a spiritual practice.”

Finding transcendence through the bawdy world of fishnets and tasselled pasties? “I felt very spiritual when I did burlesque dancing,” insists Woo, who first started performing a few years ago and today looks every bit the part: a small bright-scarlet marabou feather sits in her long black hair, and she’s wearing matching matte lipstick and a little knit cardigan over a black-satin bustier. “Yoga really means ‘a connection with the divine’, yet now we associate it with breath work and positions. And to a burlesque dancer, her art is her connection to her divine self.”

Our one-hour Burlesque Yoga “teaser” session (a preview for people interested in Woo’s longer workshops) at the downtown Forufera Centre starts out with relaxing, meditative breathing. From there, participants are taught sequences of choreographed movements, which Woo compares to yoga’s vinyasas, or series of postures. But the class turns out to owe a lot more to Dita Von Teese than, say, Swami Vishnu-devananda.

About 20 women learn an entire Hawaiian-themed strip routine set to Bryan Hyland’s kitschy ’60s novelty tune “Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie Yellow Polka Dot Bikini”. No pole-dancing here: burlesque is all about the tease—the most you’d gear down to is a pair of pasties and your lace panties or bikini bottoms, but here you’re welcome to just pretend, too. Throughout the song, we playfully peel off our leis, untie our sarongs and rub them back and forth across our asses, and end up half-dressed with our hands in the air. Skills acquired: how to turn around while maintaining our coy gaze with the audience; how to knot our sarongs so they’ll neither fall down nor get stuck when we undo them; and, most importantly, how to add flourish to every move with fingers seductively posed into “Barbie hands”.

Woo is unapologetic. “No disrespect to yoga, but we’re playing here,” she says with a smile. Burlesque has a long, colourful history of parody and biting satire—a history that attracted Woo to the art form. It has its roots in the Victorian era, when the lower classes would lampoon the aristocracy through song-and-dance routines. “At first it was a form of comedy for the disenfranchised—they would go much further than what was acceptable at the time,” Woo explains. Later, growing out of the vaudeville circuit of the early 20th century and va-va-vooming into the 1950s, it gave way to sexy stripteases by Bettie Page look-alikes. “By performing, women were able to support themselves and to be financially independent, and that was considered scandalous in itself,” Woo says.
That old-style burlesque has seen a revival over the past decade in North America, with people like Von Teese (aka Mrs. Marilyn Manson), resurrecting the art form in contemporary, tongue-in-cheek ways. Where the scene has recently waned in other centres, it’s still thriving in Vancouver: local troupes like Sweet Soul Burlesque and the Neverland Burlesque Society continue to show that not all strippers have to work at the Cecil. Woo seizes upon the trend, but puts her own spin on it.

“For me it’s to lighten up spirituality, too—sometimes that field can be so serious,” says Woo, whose day job is doing energy work and sound therapy. “And I want to say you can wear fun costumes, listen to fun music, and shake your booty, and still be spiritual.”

In her longer workshops, the costumes and props become more elaborate. Expect boas and feathers at her Classic Set; there’s also an Exotica Set (drawing on belly dance, which Woo has also taught), a Mythos Set (think mermaids), a Rock Star Set (which is open to guys, too), and more.

As for Burlesque Yoga’s fitness and health benefits, Woo says: “The movements aren’t aggressive, so I wouldn’t call it a cardiovascular workout. Because it’s choreographed to music, there’s a rhythm and a flow. It’s exercise in that you’re definitely moving and stretching your body—but it’s for people who aren’t dancers, because it’s not complicated.

“There are benefits beyond the physical. I stress you really have to love your own body,” she adds. “Burlesque dancers come in all shapes and sizes, but the big thing you’ll find in common is they love themselves. My workshops are meant to help women accept their bodies and to be more lively and sassy, so that inner goddess can come out.”

Pasties and leis aside, the biggest difference between Woo’s campy new hybrid and standard yoga is the laughter—not something you hear a lot of with a studio full of people straining to stretch into a perfect extended-triangle pose. During our session, one woman busts a gut over the way her sarong caught her hair as she attempted to slip it off, and the house comes down every time we have to swing our butts out to the song’s ridiculous tin-bell cue. We’ve found a new religion, and its goddess wears tassels and fishnets.

The skinny on the bump-and-grind

Burlesque Yoga is holding a “teaser class” next Sunday (January 29, 3:30 to 4:30 p.m., $5), where women can try out the form. There’s also a Valentine’s Vavavoom Workshop on February 12 (2:30 p.m. to 4:30 p.m., $30, men and women) and a Classic Set workshop on February 19 (12:30 p.m. to 4:30 p.m., $50), all at Forufera (505 Hamilton Street, mezzanine level). Little Woo will also be teaching a course at the upcoming Vancouver International Burlesque Festival (February 9 to 12 at venues around town); check out www.vanburlesquefest.com , title and location to be announced.

Info on all the programs is at www.burlesqueyoga.com