Radiant Light: Alleson Buchanan’s Protest Art and the Music Illuminating It

The Seattle-Puget Sound based neon bender on how music and story are inextricably linked to her queer, feminist and progressive political expression as an artist, her devotion to Karen Carpenter, and toxic obsession with musicals.
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By Jonathan Bristow

Alleson Buchanan is a luminary.

A giver of light - 

Both literally and in the very essence of her being.

Owner of Radiant Neon, the quirky queer Seattle and Puget Sound area neon bender and activist is a beacon of hope and truth in a world desperately in need of light:

A creator operating at the intersection of art and collective liberation. 

Recently we sat down with our favorite witchy, intersectional feminist neon maker to discuss the role of music in her life and work.

“I don’t know a world without music,” she says plainly.

In homage to her late relative and outlaw-country legend Waylon Jennings, Alleson showed up to our convo in one of her favorite graphic t-shirts of Waylon and outlaw-bestie Willie Nelson that reads:

“Where there’s a Willie, there’s a Waylon.” 

“The rogue music-ness lives on in me forever,” she explains.

For Alleson, music and story are inextricably tied to everything she embodies as a creator. From her earliest childhood memories of refuge from trauma in singing and musicals, to crafting truly brilliant protest art today, music has been the constant: her source of emotional regulation and creative inspiration.

Solace

The tediousness and intensity of neon creation cannot be overstated.

It’s all about focus.

“Using your bare hands to bend glass tubes in fire and flame,” requires complete Zen -

You cannot bring any other emotion to it.

“If you’re having a rough day, you’ll do nothing but break glass.”

For Alleson, that flow state comes from music - 

Her primary tool for self-soothing.

In her own words, what she makes is possible because of music.

There are playlists for everything, but especially for when she’s really “spun up” and needs regulation. For the sake of getting through a demanding commission, or creative inspiration. 

“Leave My Mind,” by the gorgeous Ben Platt has been the bop as of late.

Gets all the feels out.

Finding solace in music comes from her very roots, growing up in a family deeply immersed in music and singing. It was ever-present in her childhood.

Whether connections to obscure, quirky tunes from her father’s discoveries as an avid music fan and owner of a little audio/video store in East Portland, or her family’s involvement with the fundamentalist, conservative, a-cappella singing Christian tradition she was brought up in, music was in her DNA.

Her parents were singers.

Grandparents were singers.

Her aunt was a talented singer, multi-instrumentalist, music teacher and choir director.

Music was like breathing.

And, for Alleson, singing felt like a taste of freedom in an environment and upbringing that was otherwise often traumatic.

Inheritances can be so profoundly complex.

While the congregational singing and performing afforded Alleson connection, a place to be in community, and her first opportunities for self-expression as a soloist within the safety of the group, she was at the same time immersed in a culture that indoctrinated her with a myriad of toxic beliefs - none more confounding and painful than teaching the hatred women.

“Hating women was expected” she says.

Unabashed patriarchy.

According to the doctrine, women were inferior.

Relegated to narrowly defined, subservient roles.

Subjugated. Suppressed. Silenced.

Discriminated against. 

Oppressive mind-control and manipulation at its finest.

In the midst of this environment, for Alleson, the music was solace, the safe place - 

The refuge within considerable sorrow and turmoil.

The hatred of women was just in the water, and embedded itself deep into Alleson’s psyche, affecting everything growing up, even down to her personal musical taste and preferences. She was convinced she hated women’s voices…

Except for Karen.

Karen Carpenter was… everything.

Is everything to Alleson, to this day.

Since childhood, she has been completely and utterly devoted to the pure, captivating magic of Karen.

Like, it’s a whole thing.

Karen is the closest thing to a goddess there is for Alleson.

The way she puts it, if she could choose three celebrities to sit down and have a meal with, she would choose Karen three times.

And her connection has only strengthened over the years, particularly as she learned the depths of Karen’s tragic story - which resonates on a visceral level for Alleson.

We retain the good, and release the bad.

That’s the healing journey.

And in recent years, in her own personal liberation, coming out, and reclamation of her own queer pansexual identity, Alleson came to the revelation that she actually doesn’t hate women’s voices - 

She loves them.

All the feels.

She was taught to hate women, and their voices.

And in many ways, even broader culture today still reinforces those familiar scripts of hatred toward women.

But to illustrate how far she’s come, Alleson these days carries zero shame about her girl-crush on Betty Who - who, like Alleson herself, celebrates her queerness openly while also finding true love in her straight-presenting marriage and partner.

Hatred of women out -

Liberation in.

Queer, unapologetic joy.

And the love of music from her roots remains:

Her place of solace, soothing, creative inspiration and regulation.

Theater & Liberation

It has always been the musicals.

In her own words, Alleson is “borderline toxically obsessed.” 

Alongside church singing and Karen, musicals were a lifeline for Alleson, sustaining her through some of her more traumatic childhood experiences. They provided a safe space for bonding and connection with family members where relationship was otherwise strained or challenging. 

A haven.

And in this way, she feels a very deep and direct connection to the liberatory refuge that the theater has been for the LGBTQIA+ community for generations. 

“A space to express yourself in a safe way… you get to say what you want to fuckin’ say.”

Now delightfully amused by the way musicals somehow seeped through the strict content censorship of her fundamentalist, conservative upbringing in her family and religious community, she quips,

“It’s almost like the subtext was somehow lost on them…”

“Like, wasn’t it obvious?”

They sang them together. 

Watched them together. 

And for Alleson, musicals and the theater are where her soul feels at home.

Regarding the liberatory power and social influence of the theater, Alleson points to the phenomenon of Hamilton.

The way that Lin Manuel Miranda managed to infiltrate the heart and minds of white America, centering the voices of people of color with extraordinarily powerful narrative and cultural representation - 

Through the power of song and humor.

Even folks who wouldn’t otherwise frequent the theater paid thousands to see the show when it came to their town, and were graced with the opportunity to sit with impeccable social commentary.

“History Has Its Eyes On You,” bub.

For Alleson, continuously putting brilliant and courageous art forward into the social consciousness of our nation is a part of the ongoing process of change.

Messages ever present before us.

Because while one piece of work might come and go, having its moment in the public eye while profitable in the exploitative machine of capitalism, what is necessary is the ongoing production of provocative art across all mediums that keeps the conversation alive, and hearts stirring.

“The more we bring things like that to people’s minds, the more we break norm[s], and the more we ask people to consider deeper things.”

Art is crucial, “so that we don’t forget.”

​Stories continue to be told, and marginalized voices centered.

And on the note of storytelling, 

Most recently, it has been Sondheim that has captured Alleson.

His storytelling has completely captivated her -

As well as his uncanny ability to observe humanity through unique lenses - something that anyone who spends even a few moments with Alleson’s gorgeous work will appreciate is also true of her. 

As a creator, Alleson notes that her connection to story and the art she is producing are inextricably linked. 

In Sondheim, she finds an artist whose life is directly related to the work he made -

And this shapes her own aspirations.

“You have to be honest with who you are - or your work isn’t honest.”

The Maiden Crone

One of the stories presently inspiring Alleson’s work is Stephen Schwartz’s “Beautiful City” 1993 re-write from the legendary Godspell. 

Currently one of her most self-soothing tunes in rotation, with lyrics that “send shivers down her spine,” the song proclaims:

“We can build a beautiful city, not a city of angels, but a city of man.”

Schwartz composed the re-write following the 1992 L.A. Riots, after a jury acquitted the four LAPD officers involved in the horrific police brutality inflicted on Rodney King. 

For Alleson, both then and today, the song essentially claims:

“A beautiful city is possible.”

Art as resistance. 

Music as hope.

Beauty from ashes.

For Alleson, the song is exemplary in the way music can so powerfully put forth ideas in a way that opens up the possibility for conversation around topics that are otherwise challenging to broach.

And this same courage and audacity of art as social commentary found in “Beautiful City” is the spirit with which Alleson has created her career first solo-show:

The Maiden Crone.

A uniquely original, semi-autobiographical, half traditional neon gallery, half immersive theater experience, Alleson’s show both narrates her own story of liberation and overcoming, and doubles at the same time as a larger social commentary about how we have gotten where we are.

In her artist’s statement, Alleson describes the reducing of feminine identity within patriarchy to motherhood, leaving little to no room or support for any expression outside of the maiden, mother, crone femme life-cycle. 

“As a cis-gendered, queer woman not planning on motherhood,” Alleson explores the trauma of the binary imposed upon her: remain forever a maiden, or become a crone. 

For her own liberation, and in turn the broader liberatory work of other femmes and queer folks suffering under the weight of patriarchal impositions, Alleson turned to the study of ancient femme figures in literature, including Lilith, Medusa, and Cassandra.

Alleson’s show centers her own healing journey through the lenses of these powerhouse ancient femmes and their own stories of liberation, speaking truth to power, the pain of living within oppressive structures that silence or dismiss their voices, and the alchemizing of these painful experiences to empower change in the world.

In her own words, “It is important for me to pull the pain of the world's oppression out of my physical body, make it live physically in this world as a permanent literal beacon demanding change.”

In addition, the Maiden Crone draws heavily from her unabashed love of all-things 70s - as well as a newfound love of themes explored in Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon and other counter-cultural, psychedelic rock of the late sixties and early seventies. 

In other words, Alleson is crafting a masterpiece.

The show debuted in October of 2025 and is set to make a return, with new components and features to help further realize the entire scope of her vision!

Art is resistance.

A beautiful city is possible.

The Seattle Proverb

With the same ethos of those beloved protest records of the sixties and seventies, much of Alleson’s art is inherently protest art.

So protest-y, in fact, that she literally wears it…

At protests.

(So punk-rock.)

At the June 2025 No Kings protest in Seattle, Alleson showed out sporting a large wooden sign hanging from her neck, with the phrase, “Gargle My Balls” glowing in red and blue neon glory as she marched in solidarity with her community against fascism and authoritarianism.

The story behind the phrase comes from a heroic Seattle Amtrak bus driver in 2020, who refused to allow an ICE agent to board his bus, and while closing the door in the agent's face, notoriously exclaimed: “gargle my balls.”

“To this day, I feel that man deserves to be commemorated forever,” Alleson says of the local hero.

At the No Kings protest, Alleson estimates that she shared the bus driver’s story of vigilante courage as many as 300 times, while she and a friend toted behind them a wagon with a 35-pound battery back to keep the sign aglow the entirety of the march.

One passerby gasped as she witnessed the sign, shouting, “The Seattle Proverb!”

And thus, the name of the sign shall forever remain.

While wearing her neon protest art at protests is a cumbersome experience, it is a way for Alleson to literally embody light and story as a public testament to truth.

To create and further conversation around immoral legislation and enforcement.

While many adoring onlookers have expressed their admiration for her astounding dedication and creativity, shouting “You win!” for her snarky and extraordinarily creative protest signs, for Alleson, there’s no contest. 

The ‘win’ is that every piece adorning her body in protest is “literally, and nonmetaphorically, shedding light on important things.”

An embodied act of defiance.

And an act of solidarity with the marginalized, vulnerable and oppressed in her community and country.

An opportunity for storytelling.

An opportunity to further the cause, connect with others, and organize for more strategic, sustained action.

And while she’s a person who hates ‘baby steps,’ and is eager for accelerated justice and liberation, she considers her work to be an energy she can contribute to the collective - 

Which is what it’s all about.

Each of us in our own niche, in our own creativity, in our own spheres, showing up with our individual light and energy to help illuminate the path toward truth and justice.

And while there is only one Radiant Neon, 

Each of us can learn from Alleson to be a radiant light.

For More With Alleson...

To listen to our interview with Alleson in full, complete with all the delicious songs she discusses and her brilliant insights into the liberatory power of music and theater, make sure to check out her episode on the podcast here!

And if you haven’t yet, make sure you are following Alleson and her work on IG (@radiantneon) for regular updates (check out the original piece she did for the Wicked musical!) and connect further with her about her work and commissions on her website: radiantneon.com! ​

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