Photo by Ana Ferrandis
On a stage in Plaça de Catalunya in central Barcelona, a replica of the iconic Tatik-Papik monument split open. Like a metaphorical birth, Bala stepped through, adorned in Armenian fabric with sharp shoulder pads and silver jewelry. They held a long veil attached to a traditional headdress, and with a stately stroll lip synced to the dramatic opening lyrics of “PreGomesh” by Armenian pop star Sirusho.
“I was living my full Sirusho fantasy while paying tribute to one of my favorite monuments,” Bala later wrote on Instagram. “Just one year ago in 2023, Artsakh was occupied by Azerbaijan, forcing over 120,000 people to flee their homes, and now, they are trying to erase cultural symbols like this monument.”
In another performance intended to raise awareness of the Artsakh cause, Bala lip synced to folk ballad “Sareri Hovin Mernem.”
“I was doing a ritual for myself, but at the same time for the people, to represent the grief and the power of being Armenian,” Bala told Azad Archives.
Bala is one of many Armenian drag artists bringing unprecedented queer representation to international stages. With performances that celebrate Armenian heritage in ways that feel authentic to their gender identity and exploration, drag artists reimagine what it can look like to be Armenian. While acute challenges prevent wider acceptance and visibility, drag artists are creating a vibrant subculture across the Republic of Armenia and its global diaspora.
Gigi Aries is part of a group of artists building a budding drag scene in Armenia, “brick by brick,” in her words. Drag culture was dormant for years in Armenia until December 2022, when Gigi Aries and a few friends performed at a party hosted by Pink Armenia, a nonprofit that promotes LGBTQ+ rights.
“It created a magic,” Gigi said. “It’s like there was something inside of us waiting to be unleashed.”
A conservative strain of the Armenian community believes that LGBTQ+ visibility and expression in general, and drag in particular, violate cultural values and traditions. In the face of criticism, drag artists insist on their deep love of Armenian heritage and express it proudly with performances that integrate queer and Armenian imagery and themes.
It is not uncommon to see a drag artist lip sync to Armenian music, wave the Armenian flag, or advocate for Armenian causes. Many of these performances reflect research on the history and culture and deep introspection about carrying an intersectional identity.
Gigi Aries paid tribute to the classic film “The Color of Pomegranates” with a graceful dance set to music by Sayat Nova. Dressed in a 19th century taraz — a traditional dress borrowed from Yerevan’s Lusik Aguletsi House-Museum — with a deep red pomegranate in hand, she ended the dance by covering her eyes with black silk, recreating an iconic image from the film.
In another number inspired by drag artist Lypsinka, Gigi Aries picked up an imaginary phone and lip synced to sound bites from famous Armenian film and television moments that she grew up watching, including “Harsnatsun Hyusisits,” “Kargin Haghordum” and “Pahanjvum e Milionater,” as well as a historic speech by trans activist Lilit Martirosyan at the Armenian parliament.
This performance represented a triumphant return to Armenian culture.
“For the longest time, I had this self-hate phase,” Gigi Aries reflected. “I associated Armenianness with a lot of hate and negativity, so I naturally blocked everything associated with our culture and our country and tried to find something familiar in foreign cultures. I had to look inside and go back to those moments that inspired me when I was younger.”
In another number, Remi Gelathoe lip synced to “1944” by Ukrainian singer Jamala, drawing a parallel to Armenia’s history of conflict. In a red headdress and bodysuit overlayed with strips of patterned material, evoking an Armenian warrior, they gathered apricots, photos of their mother, and a stuffed toy from childhood — all symbolizing their history and heritage.
“This is something that gives me anxiety — being in your country and not knowing what’s going to happen to you, because your future relies on geopolitics and war,” Remi said.
For Lady Die, drag is also a platform to raise awareness of discrimination against women and LGBTQ+ people in Armenia. At one show, she lip synced to “Without You” by Mariah Carey then invited her partner to the stage for a surprise marriage proposal.
“In Armenia, no one has the opportunity to propose to their queer partner among 150 people publicly,” Lady Die said. “Only our drag events create a safe space where you can do what straight people do without thinking twice or feeling afraid.”
Gigi Aries wistfully recalled feeling free in public in Europe or the United States with “nobody paying attention to me, or the opposite of that, complimenting me.”
“We deserve a lot better living conditions than we are provided with when we’re born in this country,” Gigi Aries said.
Armenia’s drag artists have hosted several shows a month for the past few years, with each show attracting up to hundreds of people. But they have regularly changed venues due to the difficulty of finding places to perform. Yerevan does not have any openly identifiable gay or lesbian bars, and many club and bar owners refuse to consider proposals for drag events.
LGBTQ+ nightlife has also been threatened by a series of closures of the few queer-friendly venues. In one widely publicized case, Poligraf was violently stormed by police officers in the middle of the night in 2023. The club has since closed its doors. While city authorities cite alleged drug use to justify similar raids, members of Yerevan’s drag scene say they have a different intention — to shut down LGBTQ+ nightlife.
“It’s not normal that my main fear before every party is, I hope there won’t be a raid,” drag show organizer Leona Love said. “I’m not even fearing a homophobic attack. I’m fearing my own government, my own police who are supposed to protect me.”
Organizers take extensive precautions to keep artists and audiences safe. Taking photos is prohibited. There are several security guards at each show. Many performers arrive at the venue hours before the doors open to put on their costumes and makeup, since walking through the streets in drag could be dangerous. Still, police officers arrived at one show last year and detained and interrogated two audience members overnight.
“We are holding onto this drag culture with our teeth. If we’re not careful about protecting ourselves, we could face a hate crime,” Lady Die said. “It’s very fragile. It’s like it’s your child, and you fight constantly so that it can live and grow.”
In the diaspora, drag king VERA! often incorporates Armenian culture into their numbers. During a six-month residency called “Try, Hye!” at CounterPulse in San Francisco, VERA! learned traditional Armenian dances like the tamzara and kochari from instructors including drag queen Anoush Ellah and poet Hrayr Varaz, culminating in a show — “like a SWANA Step Up story,” VERA! joked.
“I’m pretty good as a dancer, to toot my own horn, but the Michigan Hop was humbling.”
VERA!, Anoush Ellah and Hrayr Varaz will join forces again, alongside comedian Mary Basmadjian, author Taleen Voskuni and drag king Rusty Hammer, for a show titled “Hye There” at Saint Joseph’s Art Society in March.
Learning the dances from queer instructors was an important part of the process for VERA! Many LGBTQ+ Armenians don’t get to learn the traditions that are passed down within families. When alienated from a biological family, queer Armenians turn to chosen family for knowledge about the culture.
“Being Armenian to me means being connected with my queer and trans Armenian family,” VERA! said. “It’s the things that we share without speaking. It’s the way we respond to music and food in the same way. It’s that sense of cultural longing.”
VERA! often performs to music by Armenian musicians, including “Believe” by Cher — a crowd pleaser they call “low-hanging pomegranate fruit” — “Armenian Girl” by Lilit Hovhannisyan and “Protect the Land” by System of a Down.
Integrating Armenian culture with fluid gender expression can also subvert strict gender norms. Anoush Ellah — a self-described “Armenian drag pop princess” — often performs in Toronto to Armenian music in a taraz and headdress with a full beard and visible chest hair.
“As Armenians, we are just very hairy people,” Anoush Ellah said. “Seeing what is naturally considered masculine paired with the femininity of long hair, makeup, lashes, nails, and dancing how a quote, unquote, girl would dance, automatically puts it at such a paradox for people. I can sometimes see it in people’s eyes when I’m performing, the gears shifting in their mind.”
While Anoush Ellah embraces the feminine elements of Armenian dance, costume and culture, VERA! does the same for the masculine ones.
“I enjoy having no gender in the dances and just doing whatever I want,” VERA! said. “If I want to dance like a ram, I can dance like a ram.”
Anoush Ellah has grown accustomed to facing backlash from within the Armenian community. In 2023, she performed in a taraz at a gala in honor of the GALAS LGBTQ+ Armenian Society’s 25th anniversary in Los Angeles. “The energy was incredible. It was a magical night,” Anoush recalled.
Yet before the night had even ended, a video of her taking off the taraz mid-performance for an outfit change went viral on social media, inundated with criticism that she had disrespected Armenian culture and womanhood.
For Anoush Ellah, that criticism is a question of whose Armenian identity is considered valid — and whose is not “Armenian enough.”
“It’s always the haters who are like, you’re not Armenian, and don’t call yourself Armenian, but by your own logic, I’m full-blooded Armenian. I can speak, read and write. I went to [Armenian] school growing up, so I’ve checked all your boxes,” she said. “We have the same love for our culture, yet because the way that I choose to express that love is different than yours, you have such hatred towards it.”
The queer community, meanwhile, is thrilled by Armenian drag. VERA! recounted “the best reception — crying hugs, a very deep connection, a very deep desire to have more, which is why I do more.”
“One queer Armenian person came up to me and was like, that was really meaningful for me. And we just held each other for a while. I’ll remember that hug forever.”
Drag artists are also often vocal advocates for Armenian issues. During the war in Artsakh, Bala would end their performances by sharing the news and history of the region. Bala’s drag characters are inspired in part by their longing for the homeland and a solid sense of home as an immigrant.
“It’s very Armenian to have this nostalgia,” Bala said.
When they started doing drag, Bala did not tell their audiences that they were Armenian, afraid of the backlash they might face from the Armenian community.
“For a while, I thought that it wasn’t possible to be queer and Armenian. It felt like if you’re queer, you’re going to be rejected from Armenian culture,” Bala said.
“But now they’re coming together more, after realizing that I can inspire more queer Armenians that it’s possible. It’s possible to be Armenian and queer and happy and thrive and be successful. It’s also owning it, because I deserve to be proud of being Armenian.”
