Walter Cole, a baggy, sequined drag queen doyenne known as Darcelle XV who reigned over a West Coast nightclub for more than 50 years on his way to becoming the world’s oldest working drag performer, died at 23 Portland Hospital , Oregon. He was 92 years old.
The death was confirmed by Kevin Cook, a family spokesman who also appeared in Mr. Cole’s Portland Club, the Darcelle XV Showplace, in the drag persona Poison Waters. No reason was given.
At a time when states like Tennessee have moved to restrict drag shows in public places, Darcelle’s light-hearted extravagance has been widely hailed in Portland as a symbol of the city’s tolerance and cherished whimsicality. But Darcelle – the performer and his 56-year-old club – also recalled a time when laws forced gay bars, drag cabarets and other venues to operate underground.
“Young people in the gay community have no idea,” Mr. Cole told Oregon Public Broadcasting in 2016, recounting how he went from hiding his sexuality to becoming an unofficial goodwill ambassador for Portland at Pride parades and civic events in the 1960s. posing for countless photos with tourists and admirers.
In 2016, he was also recognized by Guinness World Records as the oldest professional drag performer in the world.
“I want to be remembered for making someone smile and feel compassion,” said Mr. Cole.
Darcelle even made it into discussions in Washington. A variety of Portland and Congressional officials supported efforts to list Mr. Cole’s Club on the National Register of Historic Places in 2020 for its importance in LGBTQ+ history. This month, Portland’s Gigantic Brewing introduced a Darcelle Blonde IPA, a beer with “mango, candied orange peel and peach notes,” said Gigantic co-founder Ben Love.
The label features Darcelle with a towering blonde hairstyle and ruby red earrings. Mr. Cole, as Darcelle, was present at the beer tasting and did his show at the club until last week.
“He brought what used to be ‘weird’ into the mainstream here in Portland — going to ribbon-cuttings with the mayor, attending parades — when none of that was part of the culture,” said Don Horn, the executive director of Portlands Triangle Productions, which produced the 2019 musical Darcelle: That’s No Lady.
Mr. Cole moved seamlessly between diva and denim. He could look like a mild-mannered grandfather (which he was) in jeans and a flannel shirt while entertaining guests at the late 19th-century home he shared with partner and fellow drag performer Leroy “Roxy” until his death in 2017 “ Neuhardt shared .
Within half an hour, Mr. Cole could reappear as Darcelle—sassy, blingy, and just a little risqué—in a hand-sewn dress or outfit and elaborate makeup that included signature embellishments like glittery eye shadow. The Oregon Historical Society once exhibited some of these Darcelle’s clothes.
“I have this theory, you know, when you think you’re dressed and ready and pretty for the stage,” he said in 2019, “you add more.”
Walter Willard Cole was born on November 16, 1930 in Portland. On his 2010 one-man show Just Call Me Darcelle, he opened up about the death of his mother at age 9 and the neglect and abuse from his alcoholic father. He was mainly raised by an aunt.
Mr. Cole married his high school sweetheart Jeannette Rosini in 1951 and served in the Army on a base in Italy before returning to Portland. They had two children while Mr. Cole worked in a grocery store and later opened a coffee shop that claimed to have the first espresso machine “north of San Francisco.”
Mr. Cole began acting at the local theater and met Neuhardt, a former Las Vegas dancer. The attraction was there immediately. But Mr. Cole kept their relationship a secret from his family for years. He finally came out in 1969 and moved in with Neuhardt, but Mr. Cole and his wife never divorced.
“There wasn’t anything about marriage that I didn’t like,” he said. “It was just that I was gay and I had to tell them.”
In 1967, Mr. Cole bought a run-down tavern in Old Town Portland, which was then a run-down part of town. “I walked in here and opened the door and cried. I thought, ‘What have I done?’ But that didn’t last long,” he said in an interview with the Oregonian.
The new club became a favorite for the city’s lesbian community. To boost business, he tried a review-style show on a 4′ x 8′ banquet table at the back of the bar. The stage was set for Darcelle’s Dawn. At 37, Mr. Cole made his drag debut. Still, he needed a name.
“You can’t be Alice or Mary,” Mr. Cole recalled when told by Neuhardt. “You’re just too tall and overloaded with jewels and too much hair.”
Neuhardt met the French actress Denise Darcel in Las Vegas. The name was changed to Darcelle and it stayed.
A Portland LGBTQ+ group, the Imperial Sovereign Rose Court, declared Darcelle their “15th President” in 1973. Empress”. The club was later renamed Darcelle XV Showcase, which became a hub of the city’s gay activism.
During the AIDS crisis of the 1980’s, Mr. Cole led fundraisers for medical research and in support of people living with HIV, the virus that causes AIDS, which at the time, before the development of drug therapies, was considered a potential death sentence. The Darcelle XV AIDS Memorial, a granite sculpture dedicated to Oregonians who died from AIDS, was dedicated in 2017.
For more than 30 years, the club has hosted free Christmas Eve banquets for those in need.
However, when it was showtime, Darcelle let it all go. Darcelle belted out tunes in a decidedly masculine baritone. “I don’t want to be a woman,” he said. “I want to be a character.”
A club favorite was a cover of the Bette Midler hit “The Rose,” which Mr. Cole recorded as Darcelle, also in 2021, with pianist Thomas Lauderdale of the group Pink Martini. But the highlight of the night was the “Rhinestone Cowboy” act, which saw Darcelle strut around in only rhinestone-studded chaps and a G-string – greeted by a shower of dollar bills from the audience.
“Darcelle can do and say anything – and has done it,” said Mr. Cole. “And got away with it.”
In addition to his wife, survivors include a son, Walter Jr.; daughter Maridee Woodson; two granddaughters; and two great-grandchildren.
The club lives on. His son, who has been working there for 30 years, was groomed to take over, but on the business side and not on the air. After Mr. Cole’s death, the doors didn’t even close for a night. Poison Waters sang “The Rose” in honor.