What can we expect when Dita Von Teese performs without her legendary martini glass? What surprise will she bring us this time? What more can we anticipate from her, not only as the ultimate queen of burlesque, but also as the creator and director of the entire spectacle?
Residing at the West End’s latest renovated venue, the Emerald Theatre, Diamond and Dust is a refreshingly cool option in heatwave-stricken London, alongside other burlesque-infused offerings such as Burlesque The Musical at the Savoy and Moulin Rouge! at the Piccadilly. Conceived and directed by Tosca Rivola and Dita Von Teese (co-written by Careena Melia and Emma Henley), Diamond and Dust unfolds through a loose yet well-constructed narrative: Miss Kitty LeRoy (Faye Tozer) warmly welcomes us as guests, singing songs and sharing tales with us of her (mis)adventures entangled with cards, gambling, manipulative marriages, and gunfights – very much like a Western cowgirl version of New Dragon Gate Inn.
Though we all know these plots merely serve as the framework upon which LeRoy’s girls can dazzle us with their routines, this cowboy setting works well, balancing masculine and feminine, as the softness and grace of the female body play against a hard-edged, macho world of guns and cigarettes. Bathed in Philip Gladwell’s moody lighting, we’re treated to a series of breathtaking performances, including solo acts, aerial work, fire eating, and teasing audience interaction. Many audience members seated at the counter are wearing eye-catching and ingenious outfits, but they are still effortlessly upstaged by Jenny Quirk’s glamorous, novel costumes that consistently blow us away.
When Von Teese finally enters this lavish, even slightly decadent stage (also designed by Gladwell), the entire venue holds its breath for a moment before erupting into cheers loud enough to raise the roof. We’re all spellbound by her presence. There’s no pretentious or cheap posturing, no flattering or pandering to the crowd. Riding a giant, luxuriously tufted mattress shaped like a rodeo bull, her sheer presence demands both admiration and reverence. To some extent, what moves me most is that Von Teese conjures a space where femininity can still be represented without being confined by the male gaze; instead, she plays with counter-gaze, irony, fetish, and glamour in ways that subvert male subjectivity and complicate easy moral readings.
There’s a certain moment in the narrative that manifests girl power and female awakening, with a vignette featuring the guys that almost feels like an uninvited cameo from Magic Mike! However, ultimately, with not only Von Teese but an equally formidable female-led ensemble, this production already stands as a sound showcase of female power all on its own.
