Lucky Love is the stage name of Luc Bruyère, born in Lille in 1993. An actor, dancer and former performer at the famous Madame Arthur cabaret in Paris, he is now a singer. On the evening of August 28, he performed his song “Masculinity,” a melancholy pop ballad about gender and body norms that has become “My Ability,” on the Place de la Concorde during the opening ceremony of the Paralympic Games, directed by Thomas Jolly.
You have agenesis, a congenital absence of the left arm. Is that the reason for your presence at a ceremony dedicated to disabled athletes?
No. In fact, when I was asked to sing at the ceremony, my first reaction was to say no. I didn’t want to be a standard-bearer. Quite simply, I don’t feel disabled. I was born without my arm. Since I’ve never known anything else, I don’t feel any sense of lack. Only that of living in a different body.
Eventually, after speaking at length with Thomas Jolly again, I realized that they were determined to make this ceremony on a par with the opening ceremony of the Olympic Games on July 26. No less important and, above all, just as inclusive. They didn’t wait for the Paralympics for inclusion. So that made me want to be there. Especially to sing my own song, “Masculinity.”
Why this track?
This song, released in the spring of 2023, has had incredible echoes all over the world. The idea of masculinity is not the same in North America, Asia, Europe… But it united something, especially on social media. In this case, I modified the lyrics so that everyone was represented, including women athletes. The most important thing for me was for no one to feel excluded during the ceremony.
For me, that’s the power of pop: bringing together. I love the idea that music can have ideas running through it, and that it can become a personal and a political object at the same time. A safe space.
A tableau from the opening ceremony on July 26 particularly offended viewers, who saw it as a mockery of the Last Supper, triggering waves of hatred online. What do you think of these reactions?
I wasn’t surprised, although I have to admit I was saddened. It’s because it didn’t surprise me that it bothers me. What really makes me angry is the fact that it doesn’t even surprise us.
This is a historic moment, and they can’t erase us. They can’t erase Raya Martigny (transgender model) dressed in the blue, white and red flag. They can’t erase Barbara Butch (the DJ). They can’t erase Philippe Katerine, completely naked and completely blue, surrounded by queer figures. They can’t erase drag queens, because they’re part of our history. This allows all French people, and indeed the whole world, to see that in France, the LGBT community can no longer be made invisible. It doesn’t matter if some people are agitated behind their pseudonyms and screens, scandalized. Too bad for them, good for us. They’ll just have to get used to it.
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