Argentine artist Romina Bernardo (aka Chocolate) redefines a misogynistic musical genre—born under the shadow of homophobia—making it a banner of female, lesbian, and feminist pleasure. Lucid and playful, her songs shatter prejudices without leaving out reggaeton. This Friday she presents “Sátira,” her first album. By Lucas Gutiérrez Photos: Julián Merlo Chocolate Remix Lesbian Reggaeton appropriates a rhythm associated with machismo and misogyny to speak of women's pleasure (and pleasure between women) and to respond to the macho reggaeton artist. Romina Bernardo, 31, is Chocolate. Since 2013 she has been experimenting and growing with this project, which is now culminating in her first album, “Sátira,” which she will present on Friday, March 31, at the Matienzo Cultural Center. Romina has always been Chocolate. That's what they nicknamed her in college; she doesn't even remember why. Arriving in the capital in 2004, this Tucumán native with striking blue eyes loved going reggaeton dancing, but, of course, there was something about the lyrics that didn't quite work for her. And half-jokingly, half-seriously, she set about creating her first song.

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With some production experience, a degree in multimedia arts, and thanks to online tutorials, he created his first song: 'Let's Take Charge'. He explains that to illustrate the creation: “I made a really bizarre collage. An image of a girl from Google, I took a selfie with reggaeton-style glasses, pasted it all together, and uploaded it,” and the joke caught on. “People were horrified because I talked about sex very frankly. This has become more common in recent years and is typical of the lesbian community, but back then (2013) it wasn't very common,” says Chocolate.

Redefining the diss track

With intense phrasing, sometimes validating and other times exposing certain figures and stances within reggaeton, Chocolate Remix launches his diss track, a duel that consists of throwing down challenges in song, accepting the gauntlet, and responding. "There, each one shows who's the best, so my game was a bit of ridicule. 'Here I come, in the end I'm better than all of you, I'm the lesbian,' and what I was showing is that I'm better because I get on all fours, I do things that you as a macho man will never be able to do, and with that I kill you, checkmate. The diss track is a mockery, but in the end, the girls prefer me because they also like to do other things, just like me," he says.

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“If it bothers people, it means it’s working,” the singer responds when the “this is crap” comments start pouring in from the world she’s entered to challenge. But the criticism didn’t just come from the reggaeton scene; several women (lesbians and feminists) also expressed their disagreement, saying that it objectifies women. “For me, there’s a difference between being a pig and being a sexist. And I think sexism is precisely present when being a pig is something only men do or something exclusive to men. That kind of censorship—that because I’m a lesbian, because I’m a woman, I shouldn’t—why?”

When people tell her she talks too much about sex, she argues that the issue is how sex is discussed. How to move from objectifying to empowering. And although many people still don't see it that way, Chocolate keeps singing:

Let's start by eradicating some misconceptions. Size isn't key, let's be honest. And having a hard-on isn't either, I bet. A woman prefers two well-placed fingers.

“The teasing, the sensuality, met with resistance in our spaces. Like, 'It's all good, but I'm not going to get down on all fours and twerk,' a lot of them felt really embarrassed, 'I want to, but…'” And at the end of these ellipses are activities like the gathering called 'the tortódromo' (a lesbian dance club). DJ Chocolate provided the music, and “Wow, intense twerking.” Lesbian bodies shaking for their pleasure and seduction, eroticism taking to the streets and being celebrated.

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When Choco takes over the decks and it's time to DJ, the dilemma arises of whether or not to play tracks whose lyrics are offensive. And when those songs that portray women as submissive roar: “I empower myself, I dance, and I do what I want with myself. Then there's a reappropriation. I know what you're saying, and I don't care; I use it differently. What has been a weapon of domination, I use to my advantage.”

More than humor

'Satire' not only gives the album its name but is also the concept that unites everything. Satire as corrosive humor infused with playfulness. A rhetorical figure that can be both creation and character: Chocolate as a satire of a musical bacchanal that pursues lesbians. Like the album cover, where we see her as a bride sprawled in an inflatable doll pose with her mouth full of something. Something that could be chocolate or whatever the eye decides. Because that's how this reggaeton artist likes her diss track: – I don't like to give closed speeches because at some point I don't know how things really are either. I throw this fiction at you and you'll see what you do with it. I like to play with something where people are left thinking, "And here... is this for real?... is she joking?... or not?"

Music born from homophobia

Dembow is the name of the base rhythm of almost all the reggaeton we hear. It comes from a Shabba Ranks song that became popular in 1992. The lyrics say, precisely, “they are gay,” pointing and accusing with violence and homophobia. Dem comes from 'them,' and bow means 'bowed,' another way of saying gay. This song had its translations and continued to perpetuate the stigma. But now Chocolate appropriates it and, with 2017 technology and anti-patriarchal concepts, sings:

 

Good bow, raise your hand if you're a good bow. I'm very bow, I'm very lesbian, and I don't care what people think of me. To be honest and make it short, I'm going to spend my life here eating cake. Tasty and above all proud. You're not going to teach me how to enjoy myself. Over this four-year journey, the professionalism the product has achieved is remarkable. It has grown both musically and in its lyrics. Romina explains that, as someone who grew up in the '90s, she has a great deal of respect for the idea of ​​recording an album. What began as a joke and sketches is now finding its identity, its sound, and is embodied in this material.

Twerk and make yourself visible

Between the arrest of Higui de Jesús, A lesbian accused of homicide for defending herself against those who wanted to rape her, and the police raids before and after the International Women's Strike, the lesbian feminist movement in Argentina has been going through a very difficult year.

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“In general, the media doesn’t tend to give lesbians visibility, and when they do mention that they’re lesbians, it’s as if to say, ‘Don’t go near these women’ or ‘They’re radical lesbian feminists.’ And when it’s necessary to give visibility, in the case of highly organized movements like the Permanent Lesbian Assembly, which has organized a lot of events, they don’t,” says Chocolate. For all these reasons, Chocolate Remix champions collective creative spaces, a blend of art and activism (artivism) that unites designers, photographers, costume designers, and dancers. And now she’ll have the opportunity to perform on March 31st at the Matienzo Cultural Center alongside Kumbia Queers, the band that inspired her ‘lesbian reggaeton’.

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Romina Bernardo seems to be a kind of reggaeton version of Jem & the Holograms: “I don’t really know who Romina Bernardo is either. Chocolate is the character I use to do anything. A space to take many things seriously and also to not take anything seriously,” says Romina/Chocolate while her song 'Cómo me gusta a mí' plays.  

I like empowered women, I like them even more if they're eating this empanada, I like that hot chick with the shaved back of her neck, I like real women, not fairy tales. I like it when you're quiet because you seem absent, but I like you even more when you get hot, when you let out a powerful scream and the neighbors and all your relatives find out that this pair of hotties are having a roll in the hay, that they're hotter than a coal stove, that this isn't an Avon meeting, that here we're going at it hard, good, and damn.

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