Photos by Jen Rosenstien 

Last week I went to see Geneva Jacuzzi’s show at Elsewhere in Bushwick.

I haven’t been to Elsewhere sober (ever) or a concert alone (in probably the last decade) and felt so awkward that I sat next to the water station eavesdropping on drunk people in platform boots until the lights dimmed and Geneva was ready to come on. I pushed my way through the crowd and within 10 minutes felt like I had three vodka sodas and lots of glitter covered friends to dance with. Geneva, perched on a platform carried by four toga-clad men, descended on the crowd and made her way around the venue. The show follows her character as she transforms from ethereal goddess to the queen of Hades, a story inspired by Geneva’s journey from the strict Jehova’s Witness community to LA’s early 2000’s art and party scene. It was a performance you couldn’t take your eyes off of, so mesmerizing that you (maybe just me) will risk getting a UTI because you don’t want to pull yourself away to use the bathroom. The next day, I caught up with Geneva and we talked about the importance of staying flexible, the controlled chaos of her shows, and how the themes of transformation and self discovery influenced her performance. 

Tell me about the show last night. It’s three acts.

Three acts.

Can you tell me a little bit about the story behind it?

What’s funny is it’s sort of a Greek myth that came together while I was making the show, which is kind of how all of my live shows come together. I have an idea, and then I start building it—putting together different props, costumes, and characters—but I don’t really know the meaning or the arc or whatever until I get started, which is gnarly because I had a deadline. I knew I wanted it to be a Greek play. I wanted columns, I wanted pillars, I wanted that whole Clash of the Titans kind of vibe. But I didn’t know where it was going to go because, for me, I don’t play live instruments. I need to create some sort of arc or story. There has to be some kind of meaning behind it. I ended up writing multiple other characters. There was the kind of white, clean goddess—sort of white wig, weird, otherworldly character at the beginning. And then there was this queen of the underground kind of character down in Hades. And then there was some sort of mesh between the two at the end. As I was writing and putting the show together, it started making sense. I was like, "Oh my God, the flow of this is mirroring my own life."

Okay, I was actually going to ask you about that. Without knowing you or too much of your story I kind of had a feeling that’s what was going on.

Yeah, and I wasn’t aware of it. It was this unconscious thing. The play started writing itself. It basically starts off pre-existence, before Earth, before the skies, before anything. And then we end up in the realm of the heavens, the gods. And there’s a character that’s there amongst them. They start to sort of beat her down. There’s that scene where they’re throwing the balls at her, and then she kind of understands her own power and realizes she can leave. So she kicks herself out of heaven, then falls—wants to go to Earth but falls through the mouth of a volcano and ends up in the realm of Hades. She goes a little too far, which actually happened in my personal life. I was raised as a Jehovah’s Witness. It was super crazy Christian. I was sheltered, I believed insane stuff. I used to have to knock on doors. I thought Armageddon was going to come. It was a bit of a cult. And I rebelled and ended up getting kicked out/kicked myself out because I had to make a choice: Do I want to stay and do this, or do I want to leave? And so I left. But then when I moved to LA, I went in the complete opposite direction and just fell into all of these... I mean, it was amazing. I met all these artists and musicians, but what came with it was lots of partying and drugs, and I went a little too far down. But it was super fun and crazy. So the character basically ends up in Hades, and she becomes the queen of the underworld.

I think a lot of people have had a similar experience. Not being in a cult. But struggling with the balance between light and dark. I know I have.

Kind of going a little too far down?

Exactly. Like pulling a slingshot and getting flung in opposite directions.

Right? Yeah, exactly. So she goes down to hell, and it’s a fucking party down there, you know what I mean? It’s fun, and there’s crazy shit going on.

There’s blow-up balls.

Yeah, the balls, the people were naked. It was hedonistic and wild. But then after that, it starts to crumble. The whole thing falls apart. And so she ends up coming back to Earth, and oddly enough, when she gets to Earth, it’s kind of post-apocalyptic. So the Earth has almost been destroyed. And then she sort of ascends into this kind of half-god, half-human, almost Christian angel/archangel-type character where the wings come out. So it’s kind of a blend of Christianity and Paganism and just a weird life story written into this myth.

The dancers were amazing too. How involved are you with the choreography?

So Neil from 80sbaby—he’s an amazing choreographer in New York—has been teaching choreography to his students using my songs for the last few years. I was always really inspired by it. Throughout the years, my career’s been so up and down. There are times when I question whether or not this is what I’m meant to do, and every time I get to that place, I go on Instagram, and there’s a video of him and 20 of his students doing amazing dances to my songs. It makes me feel like, "Okay, I’m in the right place. I’m supposed to be doing this. This is incredible." I feel like I’ve made it—these people are so talented, and they’re dancing to my music. What an honor. When I got to New York, my schedule was so wild, I didn’t have much time to plan for the show. I hit him up a week ago and said, "Hey, Neil, we haven’t met, but I love everything you do with your troupe. I’m performing in a week—would you or your dancers be interested in joining me for a song or two?"

And they had already practiced dancing to your songs?

Yeah! He was like, "100%, yes." He pulled it together in a week, and I didn’t meet them until the day before the show.

Wow, I thought you had all been working together for years.

No, Peter and Byron are my crew—the two boys who were there on top with me. But the choreographed dancers? I just met them the day before the show.

They were insane.

I know! But that’s how everything happens with my shows. I have a small budget—I’m not a big pop star. I want to put on these massive performances because I feel really inspired to do it. In order for me to do that, I have to reach into the unknown, find solutions, try things that seem impossible, and rely on people who believe in it and get inspired by it. It ends up being for the love of it, not for money or business.

Which is why we start doing these kinds of things.

Yeah. I’ve been doing this for over 20 years, and it’s crazy that I’m still finding that kind of inspiration. Most people don’t have the stamina to keep going.

Especially when it begins as your passion and your escape. When it becomes a job it’s easy to get jaded. Now your art pays your rent and there’s a lot more pressure. So it’s really cool that you’re able to keep finding ways to reignite that passion.

The secret is to push outside of what seems responsible and aim for something that feels almost impossible. You can’t control everything, which is hard for people because control feels safe. But if you’re going to go outside the box, there’s going to be a lot you can’t control. Being a good judge of character and knowing the right people to work with helps too.

Well It looked perfect. I was wondering when I was watching you and these dancers moving together like, how long does it take to become that in sync and keep everything that tight?

I’ve done shows in Europe where I’d work with locals in every city—completely different shows, different stories—and just make the most of whatever resources were available. My skill is orchestrating an experience in the middle of chaos, finding things that work together. It wouldn’t work in any other capacity than the job I created.

I think that means you’re doing exactly what you’re meant to be doing.

I think so. I don’t put out a ton of records, maybe one every eight years. The fact that I can still fill venues and play shows after not being in the machine as much is because when people come to my shows, they know it’ll be memorable.

It’s theater.

It’s theater, yeah. I’m old-fashioned that way. I like to put on a real show.

I saw your video for ‘Dry’ where you were dressed as the Hanged Man tarot card. Do you feel like these esoteric themes play a big role in your life and music?

Yeah. Well, I kind of can’t escape the mystical, astrological side of Los Angeles. It’s all around you. It’s really fun. And I love Greek mythology, and the origin of astrology is tied to the planets and characters like Roman or Greek gods—Aries, Venus, all of that. It’s all based on Greek mythology. The origins are fascinating to me, and the traits of each zodiac sign reflect those myths.

We all have a little bit of the stars and planets and those archetypes in us and I think that’s what draws me to it.

Yeah. And whether or not it’s true, it’s our history and part of our culture. So, in that way, it is true. It’s almost a fact. And there are forces beyond us that we don’t always understand. It’s ancient. It’s cool. It’s history, come on!

Yeah let’s let the girls have fun.

But I do love LA. It’s my home, and I think it will always be my home base. I love to travel, but I don’t like to stay there for too long because it can get weird. I love leaving and coming back because it’s a place where you can work and relax at the same time. I’m such a high-energy, hyper-focused, Type A kind of person that I almost need the wellness culture of Los Angeles around me because my self-care game isn’t the best. I have all these friends who are like, "Let’s go to the spa" or "I’ll do a Reiki healing on you." And I’m always like, "Okay!" It keeps me alive.