Explore & Live
Search Articles
Back Issues
City Spotlight: Boston
City Spotlight: New Orleans
Mark Nelson’s Great Adventure
Party Review: Alegria Pride
Flagger Nation
Pre-History of the Circuit
Strike A Pose
Flagger Nation
Dallas’ Flagging Weekend V highlights the new state of fanners & flaggers
Written by Dan Tyler
I first encountered flagging during Boston Gay Pride, summer 2000. Boston’s gay ghetto, between Back Bay and the South End, was roped off for a street festival, and a bunch of muscle-boys had taken over the stage, twirling and fanning brightly-colored silk scarves in the most fascinating patterns and waves, musically flapping in the wind—and entrancing a certain green-behind-the-ears, newly out-of-the-closet kid from Montana: me.
I sidled up to the stage and shyly asked one of the guys if I could try out what he was doing with a pair of purple-sequined flags. He tried to show me how to hold the 3-by-4-foot pieces of fabric. I could feel the weights sewn into the hems along two of the edges, which he explained were designed to let the flags flare when whirled through the air.
I enthusiastically emulated the other flaggers, but my flags promptly tangled themselves into a knot. He patiently showed me how to shake out the knot and urged me to try again. I crisscrossed my arms frantically and nearly took out my boyfriend’s eye with the weighted tip of one of the flags.
At one time or another, all of us have been captivated by the UV-reactive glowing fabrics twirling above our heads like a cloud of benevolent nuclear radiation. Hypnotic and entrancing, for those onlookers in an “altered state,” gazing into the swirl of colors can be something akin to a holy—or at the least, highly sensory—experience that has become an integral part of what makes our party scene so special.
Alternately loved or hated, flaggers have taken their place on the dance floor. Some promoters actively discourage them; conversely, special stages and platforms at New York City’s Pier Dance and Black Party are built especially to accommodate them.
The history of flagging began with the first modern dancer, an American lesbian named Mary Louise Fuller, later dubbed “Loie.” Her techniques involving the manipulation of huge pieces of silk—sometimes as large as 100 yards—and bouncing kaleidoscopic imagery off it with her groundbreaking invention of the electric film projector single-handedly revolutionized theater and dance.
Today the flaggers that are smacking you in the head with their weighted strips of tie-dyed silk have been around at least as long as the first Circuit-type parties, which began in the early 1970s on Fire Island and in downtown Manhattan and San Francisco. But it really came into its own at the New York gay megaclub the Saint in the 1980s.
Flaggers are a secretive lot. Like Freemasons, they maintain an entire set of unwritten laws, traditions, and hierarchies. San Francisco bows to Xavier Caylor; New York City to George Jagatic; Eric Mitchell rules in Palm Springs; Rodger Belk in Long Beach; Derek Fowler in San Diego; and yours truly in Louisville.
Philip Bryan caused quite an upset within the flagging community when he blew open the doors to Flagdom via his website. The secrets of making flags have long been guarded as a sacred gift handed down from flagger to flagger.
Bryan’s website, http://www.flaggercentral.com, details everything and anything you ever wanted to know about making flags, as well as a flagging forum. His open-book policy raised something of a ruckus within this closed community.
Some flaggers who are especially handy with a sewing machine, such as Philadelphia’s Larry Reigel, have offered their flags for sale. But generally, it’s considered bad form to sell flags; rather, they’re passed along or traded or given as gifts.
Flagging Weekend in Dallas
This Independence Day Weekend marked the Fifth Annual Flagger’s Conference, organized by an eleven-man committee plus dozens of volunteers. “This year’s conference brought more than 70 participants from all over the United States and Canada,” according to Bryan, who also organized and choreographed the troupe of flaggers that opened the 2006 Gay Games in Chicago. Bryan has also performed with Kristine W and led crews of flaggers at events including White Party Palm Springs and San Francisco’s Folsom Street Fair.
The Dallas flagging weekend began with opening ceremonies and a meet-and-greet dinner. Over the next three days, participants and observers got the chance to tie-dye their own flags, sew in weights, and practice at various skill levels. Aerial artist Ben Zimmerman and Kundalini yoga instructor Amy Lam demonstrated how they have worked flagging into their other pursuits.
For Flagger Weekend V, Marco Roberts and his Houston Flyboys drove in to perform on Saturday and then headed to San Antonio the next day for that city’s Pride festival. Roberts, who with his troupe has been showcased at Southern Decadence, Bunnies on the Bayou, and Prides across the country, does it for love, not money: “Even though we get paid, and we performed ten times this year, we’re lucky to break even at the end of the day.”
Flagging and passing along its techniques and traditions is a labor of love for devotees. “I want to give flagging to the community,” said San Franciscan Xavier Caylor, who teaches flagging classes at a local Gold’s Gym. “It’s something we’ve owned for 130 years [referring to Loie Fuller]. It’s meditative, spiritual, and mind expanding—not to mention a great aerobic workout.”
For Caylor, it’s a mission to “demystify flagging,”, but, “It’s also about getting lost in the music.” Caylor moderates the Yahoo group Spintribe. He also brings flaggers together at the AIDS Memorial Grove in Golden Gate Park to commemorate absent friends.
Classically trained dancers like New York’s George Jagatic from New York City and L.A.’s Robin Olive are leading flagging into the 21st century by incorporating the art with their choreography. Jagatic’s company, Axis-Danz, has performed at corporate events like the opening of JPMorgan Chase’s headquarters in Manhattan and at the MTV Music Video Awards. Jagatic is no stranger to music videos, having performed in Mariah Carey’s single “Glitter.” Robin Olive and her troupe Placid Fluidity perform regularly at L.A.’s mixed nightclub Circus and the Gibson Theatre at Universal Studios CityWalk. She can also be seen twirling crimson flags in last year’s feature film, I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry.
Flagging is becoming a viable and potentially lucrative dance technique with performances in the Hollywood blockbusters Interview with the Vampire, Moulin Rouge, Vanity Fair, and Hedwig & the Angry Inch. It also has been incorporated into the choreography of modern dance troupes headed by Patrick Corbin and Hernando Cortez—both of them, not coincidentally, veterans of parties in New York City and on Fire Island.
Despite its newfound popularity in the wider world outside of Circuit parties, however, flagging will always have its detractors. Many a dancer has been bopped on the head by a runaway strip of weighted silk or has endured dodging a swirling mob of fabric. “Some people at the club come up to me and ask if I’m trying to grab attention,” complains David Gosbin, a former New Yorker now living in Palm Springs. “I tell them, ‘No, just the opposite; I don’t care if anyone else is watching or not,’ to which I might add, ‘Flagging is the music made visual; it’s how the DJ plays me.’”
Dan Tyler majored in ethnographic research at UCLA, has flagged for nine years, and now teaches in Louisville, Kentucky. He is also the director of a soon-to-be-released documentary titled FLAGGERS! Dan can be reached at
