火曜日の午後 7 時 50 分、薄暗い形而上学的な用品店に入ったとき 曲がった道。屋内でさえ、ほとんど閉鎖されているように見えます。周りのクリスタルのチェーンがちりばめられた壁、ルーン文字のボウル、長い黒いキャンドルの缶がかろうじて見えます。半分入ったガラス瓶（おそらくポーション？）がその店、つまり薬局の長いバーの向こう側に置かれている。そこでは、黒服を着た物静かな男が、私のヨガのクラスにエジプトの神の像とドラキナという名前の大きなニシキヘビの置物を指差している。
Goth Yoga LA が家と呼ぶ奥の部屋は、すべて黒、紫のライト、そしてセージの香りです。上のスピーカーシステムからは不気味な音楽が鳴り響きます。信者たちは、火曜日と木曜日の夜6時半と8時に開催される、親密な、できる限りの料金を支払うクラスに集まります。オープンマイクの夜を逆にしたような気分です – そしてそうです、誰もが黒い服を着ています。 Goth Yoga LAのリーダー、Brynna Beatnixを除く全員。今夜、Beatnix はもう 1 つの隠れた Y2K グラムをお届けします。彼女は隅でストレッチをしている、タトゥーの濃い男性と雑談し、試しに覗いてきた濃いアイライナーをした年配の女性を歓迎します。彼女は正しい場所にいるでしょうか？もちろんそうです。
Students take part in a Goth Yoga LA class, complete with burning incense.
Goth Yoga LA’s masterminds are Beatnix and her partner, James David (who DJs each class). The couple has been active in L.A.’s goth/alternative music and event scene for years, co-creating the popular outdoor roller disco event Skate Oddity during the pandemic. This “goth club on wheels,” brought an inspiring blend of physicality, niche goth music and connection to alt-Angelenos at their most isolated.
While pandemic skating became more popular, so did some pretty gnarly injuries. As a response, Beatnix began hosting communal stretching sessions before the events, complete with vibey dark ‘80s, goth and post-punk soundtrack. “It started as a gathering,” Beatnix said. “And with James and my background in nightlife and music, it gained momentum and grew.”
Soon, Beatnix got her yoga certification and a couple of her goth friends, Sal Santoro and Popi Mavros, offered the backroom of their Burbank-based occult store, the Crooked Path. And from the shadowy, crystal-studded darkness Goth Yoga LA was born.
Brynna Beatnix’s classes are defined by deep stretches and dark sounds.
DJ James David provides the music for Goth Yoga LA classes.
Beatnix and David created and practice Goth Yoga LA much like yoga itself — slowly, with intentionality. It took them years to fuse music and movement to “get the space right,” and they hope that the result helps participants’ mental health. “The music and the alternative world can already be a coping mechanism. Well, yoga is also a great coping mechanism. So let’s combine the two.”
What resulted is an intimate, therapeutic yoga class shrouded in darkness (literally), where goths, alts, punks — anyone feeling outside of the norm — can work through “heavy feelings” via moody vinyasas. “It just feels really nice to be in a room of people who are kinda literally leaning into the discomfort of being in the chaos of the world right now,” says Heather Hanford, a regular at Goth Yoga LA.
For many, it’s not just about mental health but simply a more welcoming alternative to the Lululemon-coded homogeny of L.A.’s wellness culture. “Some people feel scared of going to traditional yoga studios. One, the prices are really high. Or they don’t really feel accepted there,” Beatnix says. “I’ve even had guys be like, I’m scared to go, because people are going to look at my tattoos and think that I’m a satanist and stare at me.”
The intimate Goth Yoga LA classes are distinctive because they are mostly shrouded in darkness.
And, of course, it’s not just for goths. Class participant Hanford, who identifies as a neurodivergent non-goth, experiences Goth Yoga LA as much more regulating than a mainstream yoga class. “The lighting and mood music makes it easier to focus on the internal experience than other classes I’ve taken,” she said. “Either intentionally or not, really helps minimize sensory overload.”
As we cat-cow to the Cure, the irony that goth yoga is more approachable, more calming and far less expensive than most traditional classes isn’t lost on me. With its donation-based entry, alternative clientele and bespoke DJ experience, Goth Yoga LA is like the anti-yoga of L.A’.s yoga scene. “I didn’t particularly want to rebel against the yoga studios, I just … am,” Beatnix tells me later. “We just saw something that didn’t exist, and wanted to create it.”
I know the class is coming to an end as ambient noiserock leads us into corpse pose. I inhale, letting new smells — something minty and palo santo-y, maybe? — waft over me. Now back into our original sitting positions, I’m not expecting a namaste. No, I have been warned this class concludes … differently than most.
Class participants Ellie Albertson and Jenn Rivera recline in corpse pose.
In Sanskrit, namaste translates to mean “I bow to you,” or, ”the light in me honors the light in you.” It is meant to be an invitation: a means of being deeply and profoundly seen.
“But that’s just ignoring the dark,” Beatnix says. In her opinion, to truly be seen we must acknowledge our alternative natures, our shadow sides, the otherness of our beings. “My ending is — and it ranges class to class — but generally I say, ‘the darkness in me honors and acknowledges the darkness in each and every one of you.’ We have both light and dark. We are both.”
