From 15-30 Jun, queer performance venue The Divine is running its first in-house Fringe. The Divine is London’s newest “queer bar, drag hothouse, LGBTQ+ performance venue and nightclub”, from the team behind The Glory, iconic London drag queens Jonny Woo and John Sizzle.
I spoke with John on a recent phone call to get an idea about what’s going on at The Divine and in queer performance more generally.
You’re launching your first Fringe season at The Divine. What can audiences expect from the programme?
We’ve programmed 35 shows across a two-week season celebrating alternative queer performance. The line-up includes cabaret, drag, spoken word, comedy, live music, and full theatrical productions. Some performers are completely new to us, while others are preparing work for the Edinburgh Fringe.
What’s exciting is the diversity of the programme. We have everything from intimate solo performances to larger ensemble productions, alongside split-bill comedy and experimental work. It’s intentionally broad because The Divine exists to support all forms of queer and alternative art.
It sounds like a very ambitious programme.
It is, but that’s what makes it exciting. The Fringe gives us an opportunity to bring together all the strands of what we already do at the venue on a day-to-day basis, and lets us make some noise about it. We wanted to create something that celebrates performance and gives artists genuine access to space.
A lot of opportunities in the arts have become financially inaccessible, especially for emerging queer performers. We’ve tried to strip away as many barriers as possible. This isn’t really a money-making exercise; it’s about creating a platform and celebrating the community.
As well as our first Fringe in June, we have regular “Werk in Progress” events which are free to perform and free to watch.
You mentioned your connection to The Glory. Are performers from that venue involved in the festival?
Absolutely. One of the most rewarding parts of this has been watching performers develop over time. Some artists who first appeared onstage at The Glory are now creating fully realised theatrical productions and taking work to Edinburgh.
People like Tilly Fletcher (Television) and Charlie Wood (Garden Bride) are great examples. We have Aiden Strickland as Hatie Kopkins! We’ve seen artists evolve from trying things out onstage for the first time into confident, established performers. The beauty of spaces like The Glory and The Divine is that we’ve always had an open-door approach. We don’t tell artists what they should be creating. We simply provide the opportunity, the space, and the encouragement. They bring their energy and style.
So it’s about nurturing talent rather than formally mentoring it?
Exactly. We’re creating safe, accessible environments where people can experiment and grow. That freedom is incredibly important creatively.
Why did you choose Stoke Newington for The Divine?
In many ways, East London has become the new Soho: the natural home for alternative queer culture. We wanted to remain close to our wider queer community and venues like VFD and Dalston Superstore. There’s a strong sense of shared energy and mutual support here.
Practically speaking, venue choices in London are limited, but when this building became available, it felt too good to turn down. The Glory had reached the end of its life physically – we practically wore that baby out until it was falling apart. We loved it deeply, but it was time to move forward.
The Divine has allowed us to create something more sustainable while keeping the same spirit. I run it day-to-day as the MD, and Jonny (Woo) comes in and works on some creative ideas with me. He’s out touring Suburbia right now. I handle the practical and administrative side of the business.
The name itself feels connected to The Glory.
Very much so. “The Divine” is really about community. It reflects the idea that queer people should see themselves with pride and confidence, especially in a world that can still be hostile at times. It’s about celebrating ourselves and our culture. We are “Divine” in a world of hate.
How do you see The Divine fitting into London’s wider queer performance scene?
I think the scene is very collaborative overall. There are moments of competition because venues are often working with the same audiences, but fundamentally, there’s a strong ecosystem of support. We’re friends with everyone. Places like Love Affair Basement are really putting the effort in.
Artists move between venues constantly. People perform at one space, then collaborate elsewhere, and audiences follow them across the city. That circulation is healthy. We’re all trying to create opportunities for artists to earn money from their work and sustain careers in an increasingly expensive city.
We also have great relationships with venues and organisations across London, including Soho Theatre – something exciting is in talks for Walthamstow next year – and the National Theatre – we normally do their River Stage. Those partnerships are important because they help queer work reach broader audiences.
What makes The Divine distinct as a venue?
It has the same sense of queer history and personality people loved about The Glory, but it’s bigger, brighter, and more practical. We’ve added accessible facilities, improved the lighting and sound systems, and created a larger performance space downstairs.
The Glory had a chaotic charm. It felt like a salty, haunted, pirate ship held together with determination and glitter. The Divine is more solid and long-term. We’re only two years in, but we’re already building ambitious plans for the future.
The Divine is very colourful, very camp and full of queer icon imagery. Steeped in queer history just like The Glory but bigger and brighter. We have a big outdoor space just right for the summer.
Finally, how do you feel about the current state of queer theatre and performance?
I think it’s in a very healthy place creatively. There’s an incredible range of work being produced right now, from explicitly queer performance made for queer audiences to work that crosses fully into the mainstream. To the dark side!
The biggest challenge is economic. Audiences still want live performance, but rising living costs mean ticket sales are often more last-minute than they used to be. Even so, there’s a huge amount of creativity and resilience in the community.
What continues to inspire me most is the sense of solidarity. Queer spaces have always been about building community, supporting one another, and creating joy collectively, and that spirit is still very much alive.
We are a family and a community, bringing peace and unity to everyone. We have each other.