Dimming the Lights

The loss of several great performing artists has worn heavily on the world in the past weeks.

The outpouring of grief on social media has been ablaze and media coverage has been more than enveloping.

At first glance, it struck me as odd and quite unnerving that we could pine so willingly for people we’ve never actually met.

I’ve never really been a fan girl of anyone much. 

But, weirdly, I too found myself this week listening to ‘9 to 5’ and searching for ‘Sweet Transvestite’ on Youtube.

And it made me question what it all means. Why do we idolise certain performers? What makes someone become one of these legends? And why does our society need them?

Nobody really ever treasures an asshole.

So I think it’s safe to say that the icons we cherish and mourn are predominantly good people. They contribute to charities and philanthropic endeavours, and are generally giving. They have worked with glamorous names who all have nice things to say about them, and often their private lives are just that, private.

But I don’t think being a good person or even being good at what you do necessarily lights the beacon of an icon.

We are drawn to these people.

As though we’re ships precariously close to shore, these people offer a guiding light in a storm of tyranny, trauma and unrelenting tragedy. Life can be hard. It can be tiring and, unfortunately, it can feel meaningless. 

More often than not, these luminescent beings come from dark places too. 

Whether it’s extreme poverty, the early death of a parent, or harsh criticism and rejection, we often see iconic performers rise from the ashes despite the terrible winds of their upbringings.

In fact, it is not despite these things, but rather because of them that they shine at all.

And that is inspiring. There’s something about the underdog that we all admire. 

But I think for the likes of Dolly Parton and Tim Curry, it goes beyond even this.

There is no question that even from a young age these two gleamed in a dazzling spotlight. 

And I think we have to connect that lustre to their innate ability to challenge norms and break down systemic boundaries.

A man, or a woman, in a corset and 6 inch heels, strutting around and commanding crowds of followers is always going to turn heads and start movements.

Parton herself famously said, “If you don’t like the road you’re walking, start paving another one.” Which is exactly what she did. And that road was incredibly sturdy, long lasting and influential.

It’s obvious that things don’t feel real or attainable until they are illuminated before us. 

Dolly lit that paved path for millions of people, particularly women. 

These iconic performers also allow us to embrace what is naughty or deemed ‘uncouth’ about ourselves. 

An enticing emanation.

As an actor, Curry said he greatly identified with “outsiders who behaved badly,” notably playing villains and oddballs throughout his career. He made these characters unforgettably fabulous and, in doing so, allowed whole generations of people to feel able to just be.

I think we need permission to be ourselves. And, particularly when we don’t get that from our parents, our community or society as a whole, we take the torchlight from these icons and run with it.

But I don’t think anyone can deny that there’s something really sexy about someone who is ‘different’  and ‘determined.’

In an interview with a middle aged Curry, journalist Meredith Vieira admitted that if he “were the devil”, she “would pay to go to hell.”

That shimmer of seduction is all important.

But I believe, unfortunately, it’s something in our world that’s beginning to fade.

When I thought about these two 80 year olds passing away, I tried to consider who would be next. What legends are in the making?

I’m not sure that in a world where your neighbour’s dog can have a million followers online we’re ever going to see the glint of another icon again. 

Being unique has now become expected and AI can spit out a song faster than you can say ‘rhine stone.’ 

I’m not sure a Youtuber playing pranks will become a household name or still be working and producing ‘art’ at 80.

So, I guess that’s why we’re so sad.

Because a powerful beam of light has dimmed in the world of performance this week.

And relighting it will take someone very special.