I quit pole dancing classes when it became clear that I would never be able to dance in high heels. Flip myself upside down, do handstands and spin, sure. But return to the floor and actually land on heels gracefully? Forget it. The pole dance classes were a personal challenge in order to gain insight into the histories of a number of women I had already met. For a number of years in both Havana and New York City, I spent a great deal of time interviewing older santeras, or women priests of Afro-Cuban religion, for my first book, Afro-Cuban Religious Arts. During those interviews, I shuffled through private photograph collections and, perhaps not so coincidently, I found that a significant number of these women had worked as a chorus girl or vedette—a variety show headliner—at one time or another. Now in their 70s, 80s or 90s, these women reflected on their past in Cuba and its diaspora, and their careers in the entertainment industry.
Sweet be Jesus, there was an emphatic lesson to take away: do not mistake cabaret as a career in cheap erotica, but rather one in gendered and cultural power. Just as the cameras flashed, these ladies danced in heels, balanced makeshift chandeliers on their heads and interpreted cultural histories for international audiences. Now, for a new book project, I am writing about these private photograph collections and their relationship with popular commercial images of cabaret. Here, I’d like to take a look at a few samples of the commercial erotica as the material that set standards for much of the twentieth century.
To be clear, there were international stereotypes already well in circulation concerning Cuban women with which entertainers had to contend. Around 1908, the British tobacconist Will’s printed a series of cigarette cards featuring international “flag girls” (see image above). These brightly colored lithographic drawings represented women of different nationalities. Virtually all of these ideal women are white, or depicted in as light a skin tone as possible. The Cuban girl, with her dark hair pulled back, extremely tight corseted waist, and resulting curves is arguably more provocative than other national women in the series. She shows the most skin. Her ankles, although shod, are in clear profile. In contrast, the ladies representing Russia and Korea are well-covered, head to toe. Perhaps unsurprisingly, Miss Belgium and Miss France do show a significant décolletage.
In the 1920s, the Cuban-based cigarette company Trinidad y Hno. trumped these more common lithographic cards with a series of erotic photographs. Many—if not all—of the subjects were professional entertainers. Trinidad y Hno. produced several hundred of these so-called erotic images. Today, it is a bit difficult to find a full collection of these cards. Presumably, these photographs were intended only for brief entertainment. However, in looking at these images, beyond the “risqué” displays of skin, two entangled trends emerge: many of the erotic photographs feature references to historical and foreign details. In most instances, the photographs portrayed an instructive as well as erotic version of Cuba’s recognizably international history.
Most of these erotic cards feature anonymous women, in varying states of undress. Here, the anonymous woman in cigarette card number 583 carries an important weight of history on her hips—the pannier, or oval hoop. Mind you, however, the muscle tone in her arms indicates that she was very strong. Arms outstretched, headgear in place, her actions suggest that she was likely a performer. Some of the cards do feature stage names. One woman identified as “Mme. Claude” wears a dramatic tortoise-shell comb in her hair. With one hand on her hip, and another stretched into the air, the reference to Spanish colonial heritage, particularly Flamenco, is clear.
Trinidad y Hno. featured a number of different images of well-known Mexican entertainer Lupe Rivas Cacho (1899-1975). This publicity image depicts both Rivas Cacho’s sensuality and her national history. A bit of her décolletage appears, but that fades into her embroidered peasant blouse. She looks out at the viewer with her velvet, embroidered mariachi sombrero tilted back. Rivas Cacho appropriated Mariachi dress—an identifiably Mexican movement of music performed by men. It is unclear if Rivas Cacho ever travelled to Cuba herself, but the films she starred in—distributed out of Mexico—were popular in Cuban theatres. Moreover, Lupe Rivas Cacho’s popularity in 1920s Cuba speaks of the significance of a larger, Pan-Latin American identity brewing in Cuba.
For much of the twentieth-century, the popular rhetoric was that these entertainers were exploited. However, there is a sense of empowerment in the images as well as successful interpretations of cultural histories. Moreover, erotic images guaranteed that these historical identities were unforgettable.
All images, property of Kris Juncker. All Rights Reserved.