Not sure what prompted a recent re-watch of ‘Paris Is Burning’. Perhaps the relatively recent loss of featured house mother, Paris Dupree (whose ball the documentary title was named after). Or this post juxtaposing the outlaw element in New York City’s ballroom scene against the skater culture in Southern California.
Acting simultaneously as time capsule and timeless evidence that the more things change…well you know. As renewed interest in that time and place through new film works such as Leave It On The Floor I’m reminded of their legacy and that celluloid moment that continues to revisit this eternally fascinating scene.
Something that stood apart throughout this time around were the many unnamed participants. The ones pictured in this post in particular. The image is a screen capture because there’s no further identifying information (that I can suss anyway) to fine tune the search engine query enough to unearth much more.
I think now of nights roaming the Lower East Side and wonder if we crossed paths. In the years since it was first produced I’ve thought of these nameless youths and ask myself, who were they? Who are they now? Did they survive…thrive? Wherever they are, I hope they remain alive and present. They certainly are for me, if just as lost boys.