Interview No. III
Veronica Viper
Interview + Photos by Sophie Abeles
Edited by Ginny Keenan
Before I met Veronica, I had heard stories of her: as a burlesque performer, a Hotel Chelsea vet, a New York native. I saw her, too, sitting around the Lower East Side enveloped in clouds of smoke outside of coffee shops or pizza parlors, but it was not until recently that I found myself as close as I could get—Veronica seated across from me in her apartment on a rainy Sunday, a ripped garment laid between us.
Veronica wears a pair of loose-fitting overalls and a baby pink tee while her 10-pound bunny, Herby, dons a soft brown coat flecked with gray and white. Her kitchen table is covered with sparkling corsets and sequined gowns—the hallmark of a seasoned burlesque performer, no doubt. Throughout our hours-long conversation, Veronica never reveals too much or too little, but just enough for me to understand the power she wields. Introducing Veronica Viper, Engineer of Illusions.
How old do you think I am?
Late thirties, early forties?
I’m 44.
That’s not old!
I mean, for a stripping whore, it’s pretty old.
So, you’re from New York … ever thought about living anywhere else? What has kept you here all this time?
I feel like an elemental to New York. I couldn’t live or survive anywhere else. I don’t travel. I don’t do the fucking woods. I need concrete and steel and the Chelsea Hotel. The thing is that the hotel is not epic. It’s small. It feels like someone’s apartment but you also can’t replicate it. It’s kind of stuck in and authentic still to the time in which it was created.
That hotel seems to have a magic forcefield around it. I can’t fathom all the history that lives in those walls.
I feel really special to be a part of the community. I still don’t believe it sometimes. Think about the legends who passed through there – Janis Joplin, Hank Williams – all these super famous people who lived and died there.
“Underground burlesque, neo-burlesque, has this duty to be transgressive and to be deeply individualistic"
You perform underground burlesque at the Chelsea. What do you think the difference is between underground and mainstream burlesque?
Mainstream is going to be all about the male gaze; it will be cis or cis-passing, small, skinny, white, large-breasted women with sparkly outfits who will turn in a circle and take their dress off. And you know what? Great! I love to relax and look at beautiful women. And just the act of someone seeing a woman without their bra on is a moment of nonconformity.
Underground burlesque, neo-burlesque, has this duty to be transgressive and to be deeply individualistic and not only to be entertaining but also to evoke a reaction. It’s art. In mainstream, you want an amorous reaction and with underground, it can be fear-invoking and shocking. We’re allowed to do the kind of shit that needs to be done and sometimes artists just need the space to do their creative acts and to be themselves. It’s a great way to heal trauma and to join a collective. As you start to play to more general audiences, like me, you get to crack open skulls because those people don’t normally see someone like me. I am something they’ve never even conceived of before.
What are some of the most shocking stories from burlesque performances?
What’s ridiculous is when the audience’s line of reality blurs. When someone is out at a show and they get a couple of drinks in them and they see people behave in a way that normally wouldn’t be socially acceptable.
There are performers getting naked on-stage, and they’re like “holy shit what is going on?!” At the Chelsea shows, there is always a heavy element of circus and sideshow.
Anna Monoxide is the human pin cushion and she performs at the Chelsea. Her act is to take a sword or saber and stick it through an appendage of hers and then connect it to a chain and then she’ll pull someone by that chain who is sitting on a stuffed ducky – just insane shit, ya know?
How does Anna Monoxide not severely injure herself every show?
She does!
What does it take to be able to do that consistently? I can’t imagine how high her pain tolerance must be.
It’s training and discipline and a pinch of psychosis.
It’s interesting how so many incredible performers seem to be introverted.
I definitely feel introverted, which is weird, especially for a sex-working stripper. A lot of sex work is not actually conducive to my personality, so most of what I do in that realm is online.
How is it that sex work is not conducive to your personality?
Don’t get me wrong – I love it. I’ve been doing it since 2013. But it’s not the main gig because it’s very easy to lose yourself and your identity in it. You’re so focused on making everyone else feel good that you forget to prioritize your own needs.
I definitely spend a lot of time with other sex workers. They’re the only people who can fully understand what this is – how this line of work is almost adjacent to nursing. It’s caretaking and fulfilling deep needs that are physiological and psychological.
Do you feel like sex work is fulfilling a psychological need for you?
No, I don’t. Not always. Sometimes, some guy on the phone just wants to call me names. But when it is the other way around, the work can be miraculous and fulfilling.
Listen, life in New York is one where you might come in with “best laid plans” and this imagination of what your life will be like and then New York tells you what you’re actually going to do. That’s very much been my experience growing up here and working here my whole life.
It’s almost like New York lays out the blueprint and you just have to go with it.
Yea, it’s like that Buddhism idea: resistance is suffering. The more you fight it, the harder it’ll be, so just let the current take you.
2020 almost took me out. It was the perfect nightmare for me. I wanted to be on-stage and performing and sitting with the weirdos at the coffee shop because I hate to be alone in my house. But then, I went from the depths of my despair to doing a shoot with my good friend Kholood Eid for the New York Times. I was the most naked person ever to be in the New York Times and as a trans person … a fat trans person nonetheless! That’s life right? That’s New York. I’m so lucky to have some amazing friends who respect me and respect what I do and who want to share their skill and talents with me.
What was most special about working with Kholood and the NY Times?
Photographers are really important – you are the people who need to see and the trans community and underground performers need to be seen. Without these kinds of relationships, this life can feel pointless and our legacy would pass into nothingness. Working with photographers like Kholood allows me to feel like I’ve left a mark on others that will last.
Still, doing those shoots makes me think about the advantages I had and how hard it was to shirk off those advantages. I was born with white male privilege. That’s a hand of aces right there. But at a certain point, I realized I had to abdicate certain thrones to get to where I needed to go.
Evaluating your privilege is important and takes a lot of self-awareness.
Part of the conversation about privilege that gets ignored is that you have to use it, but in a way that acknowledges your privilege while also allowing access for others.
Being born in New York is another privilege that made me tough as nails. It gives me the strength to be in these performance spaces where I can deal with hecklers and people who make fun of me; I’m exposing myself to that type of intolerance and violence because I have the spoons, and I try to use those to support my trans, POC, femme performer community that shouldn’t have to muster any spoons just to be in those spaces.
I imagine having to be tough as nails all the time is tiring, even though this is the reality for so many people in our world right now. What keeps you going?
Living through this adversity is worth it. I have this fight in me that I need to exist as a non-conforming person because living as a gender-conforming person is not an option. So, I don’t feel courageous really. There’s just no alternate reality for me.
As I’ve had more success in understanding my identity and my place in the world, it has definitely felt more worth it to stick to what I think makes me special. What sets me apart from everyone else is what comes from within; it’s what drives me.
I really admire that perspective. Coming to a state of acceptance and pride within yourself is really difficult.
I can’t tell you how many company dancers come to burlesque because they are an inch too short or 3 pounds too heavy and it’s because they didn’t fit in the box. They’re trained within an inch of their lives with nowhere to go. Burlesque is where they go because it allows them to shed all that shit.
See now, you’re a weapon. You can take all that training and say “fuck what you want me to do, I’m going to do whatever I want with your training.” That’s the radical stuff there.
Veronica’s next show is on 10/6 at the Slipper Room.
Follow Veronica Viper on Instagram