By Kevin Wynn

Mexican cabaret diva Astrid Hadad, who has been described by the New York Times as “so surreal she makes Salvador Dali look like Norman Rockwell”

An Astrid Hadad concert is a raucous whirlwind. Mariachi music and samba collide with punk rock. Iconic images and pop kitsch whirl together like salsa verde in a Cuisinart. Social commentary and outrageous shtick fly from the stage, and at the center of the storm is Hadad, a petite, dark-haired woman with a smoky, expressive voice and an on-stage attitude that’s three or four clicks past in-your-face. 

Or is she really a woman? That’s the question newbies often ask. Maybe it’s the lush profusion of Hadad’s wardrobe – a typical evening features more than a dozen costume changes. Or perhaps it’s the antic surrealism of each ensemble – a flaring skirt festooned with glowing hearts, accessorized with a three-foot-tall, glow in the dark, heart-shaped headdress, is, if not typical, certainly not out of the ordinary. The clothes, the voice, the style – to many it all spells “drag queen.”