Theo’s hands are sweaty. It smells of perfume and sweat. He is dressed in a black corset, high boots and mouse braids. The face is made up with a black star around the eye. Backstage, he poses in the mirror. Soon it will be his turn to be crushed or crowned. “Who’s that bitch in the back, ready to attack?” shouts the commentator. The audience whistles, claps and snaps. Blue light colors Club Backdoor in Stockholm. The biggest queer club in Scandinavia. The bass throbs like a heartbeat. You feel it under your skin. Spin, dip, flip, vogue. This is more than striking a pose. It’s a ballroom. A radical, queer culture full of dance, gender expression and fashion. A small hand gesture from five merciless judges signals whether Theo is good enough. One is Beyoncé’s dancer. Another barely bothers to look. On one side of the floor they stand victorious and smile, on the other someone stands in despair and cries. The first time Theo competed in a ballroom ball, he was “chopped”. The judges thought he wasn’t good enough. Now he wants revenge. “I’m ready,” he says softly and enters the stage. Rush and intoxication A few weeks before Stockholm. In Theo’s bed is a teddy bear, his stage name is Teddy Angels after all. A nickname he got from the Ethiopian side of the family. Today, he no longer has contact with them. He speaks calmly and reflectively when he talks about growing up in Bergen. There were drug addicts in the streets by the Theo shopping center and the friends were hanging out. It could have been him. As a 13-year-old, he started getting high. First hashish, then ecstasy and MDMA. It was urgent to feel grown up. – I think I struggled with a number of things, but instead of talking about it, I just got angry. Theo’s friends came from institutions or foster homes and had tough upbringings in common. There was something rebellious in them. Eventually, Theo realized that something had to change. He needed distance from the rough environment. It became too violent. – And it wasn’t really me. One by one, his friends disappeared, until he had none left. He fell into a deep and lonely depression. – It was my first experience of my mental health going straight to hell. I get a lump in my stomach thinking back on it. It was the dance and the culture that was to be the salvation. How do you vogue? One evening, Theo discovered the documentary film “Paris is Burning” from 1990. A film that has gained cult status for depicting the ballroom environment in New York. It started as a queer underground culture in the Harlem district. African and Latin American drag queens and trans people started organizing their own balls. The balls were a showdown against the racism and discrimination they experienced in the United States. A safe room. At the same time, there was fierce competition. Imagine a hipper version of Skal vi danse mixed with a fashion show. The most famous category is “vogueing”. A hyper-feminine dance form that imitates the models’ poses from the fashion magazine Vogue. Ballroom ball in Harlem, New York 1988. Photo: Catherine McGann / Getty Images Joining in? Good. Madonna made ballroom pop culture in the 90s with the hit song Vogue. In the music video, you can see an example of old way vogueing with ballroom legend Jose Gutierrez Xtravaganza. Clip from the Vogue music video by Madonna. The documentary hit Theo in the chest, who has always felt that he doesn’t quite fit in anywhere. He dreamed of becoming part of this culture. A culture where you can be yourself and express yourself freely. There was only one problem. There was no ballroom in Bergen. He had to leave his hometown. Starstruck in the church – What have I done, why am I here? That was what Theo thought in the first months after he moved to Oslo to start over. He didn’t know anyone. But he had heard rumors of a ballroom environment. Curiosity led him to Tøyen church. Up the two steps and into the doors of the church, a new world revealed itself to Theo. There were extravagant costumes, music, colors and queerness in full display. It was his first ballroom ball: “The Garden Mini Ball”. For the first time he felt like he was part of something bigger. And there, in the middle of the church floor, he began to cry. – Because it was so bloody fat. I sat with sunglasses on and was completely starstruck. In the ballroom, Theo got to know people who looked like himself. Suddenly he wasn’t the one who stood out so violently anymore. In the beginning it was a form of activism. A kind of dance against discrimination against minorities. But most of all: – A natural interest in what is queer and radical in expression. It’s a freedom to be on stage and be sexy. But that doesn’t mean it’s easy. Tough love The judges are tough. They represent how harshly society can judge you. A kind of tough love. We have come a long way as a society, but the figures show that we have a long way to go. A survey by Statistics Norway shows that non-heterosexuals have worse living conditions than the rest of the population. It’s even worse for transgender and non-binary people, according to Bufdir. – Ballroom is activist in itself. It is political because despite the negative things people may have to say, we are here and taking our place, says Theo. He himself is gay. A “butch queen” as they say in the ballroom. One that is both masculine and feminine. He often performs in drag (dressed as a girl). – I feel that there is some resistance in society. But I think a lot of it is about people not understanding, and I get that. If he hadn’t been queer, had queer friends and been exposed to different gender identities, then he would have been ignorant himself, believes Theo. – When I was 13-14-15 I could look at gay men who walked with make-up and high heels and think why do they walk like that, are they trying to be girls? Theo shakes his head now. Soon he is going to Stockholm himself to compete with make-up and high heels. Englehuset “Exclusive hot shit” says a voice over the facility. There is loud music and scantily clad dancers. Breasts, hips, skirts and buttocks in poetic movements. They are preparing for the big ball that is approaching in Stockholm. At Sentralen in Oslo, there is ballroom training every Sunday. It was here that Theo started taking dance lessons. They build each other up. Give each other long, hard hugs. But does not hesitate to throw “shade” when someone is too bad. That’s how you get better. – We are a small environment in Norway. Very intimate, says Theo. At the same time, several people from the environment notice that the culture is growing in several countries. Because what do you do when you are ostracized by your own family because of your identity? You find a new one. That’s what the early ballroom pioneers did. They formed their own, alternative families. So-called houses. They have a “mother” or “father” who leads the houses and acts as mentors. The members are called “children”. Theo has recently joined the Norwegian part of The Legendary Kiki House of Angels. – We are a bit like a football club, he says. They train together, travel together and compete together. We will go with you to the hotel in Stockholm. Now it’s just before the ball. – For example, I have faced opposition from my own father because of my identity. We haven’t had contact in over ten years. Theo has grown up with his mother and sister, in a white family where everyone is quarrelsome. – If I haven’t been thrown out of the house, it’s still very nice to feel the togetherness that you have in the ballroom. There is a lot of preparation before a ball. Needles, glue, dresses and make-up flow freely. The nerves are currently under control. For Theo, the ball is more than a competition or a show. It is his first ball as a member of the angel house. The first time he got chopped, it was an American referee who didn’t even look at him. He was sorry. But then he acted alone, or 007 as they say. This time it’s different. He has the angels at his back. Hallelujah To enter Club Backdoor in Stockholm you have to go through a long, narrow and dark corridor with red, pulsating light and a heart sign at the end. Theo has been walking through a dark corridor for a long time. Now he is ready to spread his wings. “Angels hallelujah, angels hallelujah” they shout from the House of Angels in time with the music. They support each other. Theo will go in the Shady European Runway with a Prop category. It’s about showing elegance, style and attitude. Like a supermodel. The vibe is sexy, and the room is fogged with oozing confidence. It’s like everyone gets into character when they enter the room. Theo puts on high heels and turns into Teddy Angels. The angels follow. Teddy moves his body up and down the runway, spins around and poses sexy in front of the five judges who sit on the stage and watch every little movement. A few nervous seconds pass. Suddenly a judge holds up his palm and nods. Then another, and another. Now all the judges hold up their palms to signal ten points. “10’s across the board” shouts the commentator. You have to get ten from all the judges to move on. This time Teddy doesn’t get chopped. “Anybody anybody walking? Anybody anybody walking?” No one from a competing house dares to challenge him in the Shady European Runway with a Prop category. Thus, Theo wins the grand prize trophy together with House of Angels. After the competition, the floor is filled with people. It’s a party, and there will be celebration and there will be dancing. We find Theo backstage. – I am happy when I feel that I have mastered something that has required a bit of me. Or only when I have moved my body. One of my dreams is to feel peace within myself. The victory means more than a trophy. He has found belonging.
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Theo found his way out of addiction and alienation through the ballroom environment – Documentary
