Pussy galore

Photo: Karl Giant

To witness the postmodern cabaret diva Meow Meow in concert is to risk emerging just a little bit scratched. No one is safe at her show, least of all the deliciously deranged performer herself. From the moment she enters—a vision of frazzled glamour, faintly annoyed—she is on the offensive: badgering the audience into applause, forcing men to carry her around as she awkwardly contorts above them, vamping the crowd with her magnetic jadedness.

“The point is not for people to have a harrowing time,” Meow insists by telephone from Australia, where she recently completed a run at the Sydney Opera House. “It should just be funny and joyous and sexy.” Meow’s parody of glitz is part of a package that also includes physical comedy, social commentary and a brilliantly eclectic repertoire, with a special affection for the songs of Bertolt Brecht and Kurt Weill. Meow also has—when she gets around to using it—a bona fide voice. (She performs modern opera music under her real name, which she asked us not to reveal.)

“You just use everything you possibly can,” Meow says. “And hopefully you throw some visual splendor and political mayhem into people’s lives.” Offstage, the subversive chanteuse is strikingly intelligent, and cagey about her national origins. “It’s so much more interesting when people aren’t sure where you come from,” she says. “People never know which bit’s real and which bit isn’t, so anything should be able to happen.”

Her shows usually incorporate many languages, and her appetite for international song is voracious. (Her current musical interests include “Shanghai jazz tunes from the ’20s and ’30s” and “songs from Serbia and Bosnia from the 16th century.”) While the world may be Meow Meow’s litter, her polyglot approach is about more than just showing off. “This is the beauty of globalization,” she says. “You can collect things and hurl them at an audience. I think it’s important that these pieces keep making their way into the groovy downtown scene.”

But if Meow’s intentions are serious, her performances are anything but—and that’s part of her strategy. “I know that what I do is very out-there for a lot of people, but it really is very loving about the history,” she maintains. “The things that I rip up are things that I treasure.” There’s a fine line, Meow says, between sexy-hilarious and grotesque, but it’s one she’s happy to straddle. “Some people get very disgruntled at the trail of sequins and feathers that I leave behind me,” she admits. “But it’s kind of my duty to shake things up a bit.”

Meow Meow “incited” by John Cameron Mitchell plays May 18 at Hiro Ballroom.

Plus:

• High fidelity: David Bowie curates the High Line Festival, recruiting pals Ricky Gervais, Arcade Fire and more to benefit the elevated park (which the fest isn’t on or, at times, even near). Our exclusive behind-the-scenes preview explains it all.
• Flipping the bird: Performance artist Laurie Anderson gets “weird” again, filling another show with feathered friends. A David Bowie interview.
• Pussy galore: The bizarre chanteuse Meow Meow gets ready to pounce.
• Cyberspace oddity: Exclusive! Bowie interviews Ricky Gervais by e-mail—sort of!
• Must sí: Ziggy zeroes in on ten Spanish-language flicks.
• Keeping track: More highlights of the High Line Festival.
• High Line: Behind the scenes: What does it takes to turn a stretch of land from overgrown weed patch to beautiful High Line? Adrian Benepe, commissioner of the Parks & Recreation Department, tells us.
• The Time Out New York High Line Guide: Your ultimate resource for swank eats, stylin' stores and everything under the trestle.
• High Line in progress: The developers of the High Line gave Time Out exclusive access to their bird’s-eye site photography. See how the construction zone stands today and a few details about what it will become.