Liv Osthus didn’t know where else to go, so she arrived to Portland in 1996.
The budding singer and writer couldn’t fathom going back to her hometown of Minnesota after graduating from Williams College in Massachusetts. Los Angeles and New York also seemed like too much, too fast.
As a result, she ended up in Portland, a transitional mid-sized industrial city.
Osthus made the right decision. Being young in the Rose City was an exciting time. Everyone was in a band, and rent was cheap. Being anyone you wanted to be was something you could achieve, although subtly.
As an erotic dancer known as Viva Las Vegas, Osthus rose to fame in the community; in fact, they made a full-length documentary on her in 2018.
However, it was back then.
While Viva Las Vegas has been playing for the past six or so years, Portland’s positive vibes have mostly vanished.
Fentanyl overdoses, homeless camps, and record-breaking murder rates have made the metropolis of Osthus, the Portland of Satyricon, the Red and Black Cafe, and yes, the television program Portlandia, a thing of the past. People don’t notice it.
Osthus claims that this is the reason she decided to run for mayor early this year, a choice that even shocked her. She thinks she knows how to revive the vibrant, ambitious, and attention-grabbing city that drew her here all those years ago.
***
Running for Portland’s highest elected position as an attention-seeking eccentric with no political experience is not uncommon.
A self-described former Chinatown bouncer who frequently testified at City Hall was Steven J. Entwisle in 2016. And in 2004, Scot Campbell, also known as Extremo the Clown. to mention only two of many.
Osthus, 49, and her supporters maintain that she is not included in this group. She’s a stripper, sure, but what? This is Portland.
Furthermore, removing your clothes, dancing in front of strangers, and controlling a crowd are all great preparations for politics, according to novelist Chelsea Cain, who recently threw a rooftop house party for Osthus.
Cain said that she rallied a lot of her friends in support of Osthus because the new candidate is presenting a distinct vision that centers on what gave Portland its identity prior to its recent decline.
To draw attention to the arts, Osthus is jogging.
According to Osthus, what transpired in the city throughout the 1990s and 2000s, when it appeared that everyone with a creative bent desired to be in Portland, may occur once more. To support artists, the government must just take decisive action.
She told The Oregonian/OregonLive that the city should purchase insolvent office buildings that were deserted by the coronavirus pandemic and give them to artists for use as living and working spaces when they go up for auction. Downtown can return in this way.
She does not, however, believe that the corporate types ought to follow the painters, potters, and musicians back to the center of the city. She claims that there is no longer a valid reason for people to go from distant suburbs to sit in downtown skyscrapers, especially in light of the climate issue and the development of work-from-home technologies.
Many Portlanders seem to find resonance in her approach.
More than 1,100 people have donated since she announced her run in February, including 950 contributions of $25 or less. She was the fifth and last mayoral contender to be eligible for public matching money in September. She has raised $122,000, including that public matching money, according to campaign finance reports. For candidates to be eligible for the Small Donor Elections program, 750 Portland citizens have to donate money.
In September, Osthus told The Oregonian/OregonLive, “We feel that being certified (for public matching funds) lends my campaign legitimacy that unfortunately wasn’t extended to us otherwise.” We fervently hope that voters would give my message careful thought.
Osthus claims that if elected mayor, she will put the climate problem above homelessness and addiction, stating that it is the top concern for the majority of Portlanders. She is also against locking up homeless persons who turn down repeated offers of housing.
She responded to a questionnaire from the OPB and The Oregonian/OregonLive by saying that those with guns are far more dangerous than those in tents.
Although Osthus has many more suggestions, such as having the city pay critics for plays and other cultural endeavors that receive minimal media coverage, she asserts that being mayor involves more than merely choosing and enforcing the appropriate laws.
She says, “I think we really need a voice of optimism.” Because fentanyl is so inexpensive, users won’t give up. Additionally, the arts provide energy, hope, and eventually financial gain.
***
Tuesday, October 15, 2024, saw a discussion between prominent candidates for Portland mayor (from left) trucking executive Keith Wilson, Portland Commissioner Mingus Mapps, stripper and arts champion Liv Osthus, and Portland Commissioners Rene Gonzalez and Carmen Rubio. KGW and The Oregonian/OregonLive hosted the discussion.Oregonian/Beth Nakamura
In Portland’s past, optimism has never been easy to come by.
Throughout the 20th century, this community only gained international attention when things went horribly wrong. For example, when mobsters attempted to force their way into the inner sanctum of the city. Alternatively, a teenage pair was killed in a lover’s lane attack. or a group of violent white nationalists.
However, during the 1990s, something new and promising had begun to take place in Rose City. Busloads of young artists from across the nation were coming to town, priced out of larger, more prominent towns.
Among them was Osthus.
She quickly established herself on local stages, earning multiple names. She was Coco Cobra, lead singer for a punk group. After that, she became Viva Las Vegas, just as strip clubs were becoming popular in Portland as a result of an odd 1987 Oregon Supreme Court ruling that protected all-nude dance.
For her, life continued to be challenging because Portland is Portland. Her big break remained just out of reach, and there was never enough money.
She then developed breast cancer at the age of 33.
She didn t tell any of her Portland friends or colleagues about the diagnosis, because, as she put itin an essay, it felt like a personal failing.
Finally, she did tell them and immediately wondered why it had taken her so long.
Her fellow artists helped her through this period, becoming like family to her. After recovering from surgery and chemotherapy, she returned to Mary s Club, Portland s iconic downtown strip joint, proud of her new scars. She tweaked her approach to the job, now talking with patrons and listening more than dancing.
Her local celebrity grew, culminating in a documentary about her,Thank You for Supporting the Arts,named after her standard response when a customer slips cash into her bikini bottom.
Osthus really does believe that Portland s musicians, novelists, strippers and visual artists her close-knit community can save the city from its current ills. Because she s seen them do it before.
The early 21st-century boom years that filled new, gleaming Pearl District condo towers with tech- and ad-agency professionals? Scratching-to-survive artists made that possible, Osthus says.
In the couple of decades before, they created the24-Hour Church of ElvisandDanzineand theVelveteria. They packed rock clubs along Burnside, making the city a breeding ground for talented, ambitious bands.
They turned a grimy, working-class city into, as The New York Times called it in 2015,one of our national capitals of cool.
Portland has since reverted to its historical mean. But it doesn t have to stay this way, Osthus says. The city s artists can spark a second boom period, post-pandemic. One that lasts this time.
We re deciding Portland s soul, she says of the November mayoral election, the first that will employ ranked-choice voting.
***
With the city facing a phalanx of tough problems, it s unclear whether voters are ready to take a flier on an unorthodox, inexperienced candidate like Osthus.
City Commissioners Rene Gonzalez and Carmen Rubio and businessman Keith Wilson are considered the frontrunners, with Commissioner Mingus Mapps also gaining traction.
But Osthus is getting attention for a reason. She envisions a Portland that other candidates don t.
I want a mayor who is a storyteller and an artist, not a veteran politician or a policy wonk, she wrote in The Oregonian/OregonLive and OPB s candidate questionnaire. I am a storyteller and an artist. At Mary s Club, a dancer s job is to connect with, listen to and ultimately inspire every person who walks through the door, regardless of political allegiance, color or creed. I want exactly those skills in our next mayor.
Hers is a forward-looking message, but it relies on nostalgia too, on the belief that the Portland that made Viva Las Vegas possible can rise again.
Her true, deep ties to the arts community are a strength that no one else in the race has, says Jessie Glenn, a Portland-based book publicist who s known Osthus for years.
Glenn, who s also Osthus campaign manager, adds that Osthus is brilliant and warm-hearted and well-meaning.
Osthus says that, if elected, she will come up with a 24-hour plan, a seven-month plan and a seven-generation plan.
When asked what the 24-hour plan will be, she thinks for a moment and then says: Connect, listen, uplift.
As it happens, she s already launched the 24-hour plan. And it appears to be working, at least with her primary demographic.
Though they have friends in common, Cain and Osthus had never met each other before that recent rooftop gathering. Cain says she didn t know what to expect from Osthus as a mayoral candidate, and that she came away from the get-together enthused.
She made me believe in Portland again (in the possibility of Portland both the Portland I miss and the one I want, which is better than the one I miss), Cain wrote in an email.
Those two Portlands of the imagination are undeniably linked, to each other and to the Rose City in the real world right now.
The dirty, rundown Portland of today, after all, looks much like it did three decades ago, when Osthus arrived in town and everything felt possible.
Douglas Perry is a reporter and editor at The Oregonian/OregonLive. You can reach him [email protected].
Latest local politics stories
-
Taxpayer cost for Oregon s class-action foster suit climbs over $34 million
-
Multnomah County s universal basic income experiment worked, until the money ran out
-
Oregon Republican in the running for labor secretary, national outlets report
-
Oregon election officials clear up confusion they caused about ballot counting
-
Final 2 Portland City Council candidates win election
Note: Every piece of content is rigorously reviewed by our team of experienced writers and editors to ensure its accuracy. Our writers use credible sources and adhere to strict fact-checking protocols to verify all claims and data before publication. If an error is identified, we promptly correct it and strive for transparency in all updates, feel free to reach out to us via email. We appreciate your trust and support!
