INTERVIEW WITH FILMMAKER ASHLEY ALTADONNA 

How long have you been a filmmaker? What got you interested in filmmaking?

I have been making films since 1999 when I was going to the School of the Art Institute of Chicago. I originally wanted to do something in sound design or musical engineering but couldn’t get into any of the classes I wanted to take. I took an intro to filmmaking course and was hooked. Seeing work by avant-garde filmmakers like Stan Brakhage and Hollis Frampton completely blew my mind as to what a film could be. After seeing a copy of Jennifer Reeves’ “Chronic” I thought, “Okay, this is what I want to do!”

 The film program at SAIC was exciting but, at least in the time I was there, very unstructured. They gave us 16mm cameras and told us to go make something. It was liberating to be handed those resources, but I probably wasted more than a few rolls of film just learning to use the equipment. Eventually, living in downtown Chicago started to take its toll on me. A bunch of my friends were going to art school up in Milwaukee. I found out about the film program at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee and moved to Wisconsin in 2000.

The film department at UWM was a lot more rigid. I don’t think we were even allowed to touch a camera until the second year. I learned a lot more about theory and practice for which I’m grateful. Unfortunately, it was around this time that my issues with my gender dysphoria were starting to boil over. I couldn’t concentrate on my coursework. I was completely stressed out and frustrated. I was put on academic probation my after my first semester. I came out to my parents as transgendered at this time, and briefly started seeing a therapist. However, it wasn’t until my last semester, five years later that I actually began to deal with my gender identity issues. I would recommend film school to anyone interested in pursing filmmaking, but trying to come to terms with your own gender identity while you do it can be a lot to take on.

 A lot of your work like your films Whatever Suits You and Playing With Gender is based on your identity as trans. Do you feel like being trans has given you a certain amount of inspiration? 

 Being transgendered has really given me a lot of direction in my work. I often struggled in school to find an idea or subject matter that I wanted to make art about. Consequently, a lot of my films from that period lacked a personal connection. You can sort of tell I was just “going through the motions” as a director. Being trans has inspired me immensely. I was motivated to make my film “Whatever Suits You” after learning about the Seattle Transgender Film Festival. That entire project happened so organically because I was emotionally invested in the subject matter, me and my transition. Nearly all my films since then have dealt with exploring gender and transgenderism in one way or another.  My film “Playing With Gender” was my way of trying to explain the concept of gender and transgenderism to my friends and family. It was my attempt to give them a reference point. The unique experiences we have as trans or genderqueer/gender-varient people are rich with topics to explore and discover through our artistic mediums.

 

Do you feel when you make a movie about being trans it pigeonholes you as a “trans filmmaker”? Is that necessarily a good or bad thing to you?

 For me the idea of being a “trans filmmaker” or “trans artist” is a double-edged sword. On one hand it has opened a lot of doors for me to show my work and given me opportunities I might otherwise not have had. On the other, a lot of times people can’t seem to get past the trans issues to actually evaluate the work on its own artistic merits. I have been to several screenings where I’ve done Q and A after the films, where not one member of the audience has asked me about filmmaking. Instead it’s been the usual barrage of inquiries about my sexual orientation, biology and which bathroom I choose to use.

What are your thoughts on todays “trans cinema”? Is there such a thing? Is it like “queer cinema” or is it something different?

 I feel trans cinema, like the rest of trans culture, is slowly coming into its own. Trans culture has been lumped together with queer culture for so long that a lot of people don’t often distinguish between them. I think within the last 20 to 30 years transgender art, theory and society have begun to carve out a space all their own. As artists, writers, and filmmakers it’s important to create that culture and fight for it.

What would you say to young trans artists and filmmakers on making art?

 Keep creating and sharing. For years mainstream society has dictated what it means to be queer or trans. You see this with mainstream TV shows and movies like “Transamerica” where trans people are either pathetic victims or deceitful deviants. We need to make and share our own stories, ideas and experiences to counteract these misleading stereotypes.

Bodies Of Work Magazine looks to celebrate the trans / gq / gv artist and writer. Do you think we’ve got a long way to go or are we there?

Again we’ve come a long way, but every time I hear about another transperson attacked or bullied, or denied the same rights and privileges, I know we’ve got to do more.


To see more work from Ashley Altadonna please head to her Youtube page or go to her website, http://tallladypictures.com/

INTERVIEW WITH SASSAFRAS LOWREY

Cover art for Sassfras Lowrey’s new book - ROVING PACK 

Morty:  Hi Sassafras!

 Sassafras:  Hey!

Morty: So, first question is about your new book. What type of book is it?

Sassafras:  My upcoming novel, Roving Pack, will be released in October.  It’s a fictional account of homeless queer teens searching for community and building families in punk houses and queer youth centers

Morty:  It’s fiction? Based on your own experiences in some way?

Sassafras:  Yes, it’s fiction very much rooted in my own experiences as a teen. I like to say that Roving Pack is my fiction, but also the memoir of the crusty punk boi I was.

Morty:  So, there is a crusty punk boi protagonist?

Sassafras:  Absolutely. Hir name is Click (which is also my former name) and ze is a XXX (straight-edge) trans kid.

Morty:  Can you tell me a little bit more about your background? You were a homeless trans teen?

Sassafras:  I was kicked out when I was 17. I couch surfed and moved around a lot building community with other homeless queer kids. While Roving Pack is fiction, it is in many ways rooted in the experiences I had and the worlds I was part of during that time in my life.

Morty: Do you currently identify with the word trans?

Sassafras:  I do identify with the word trans. I even have a big trans symbol tattoo on my wrist from back in the day! Though, at this point in my life, people don’t necessarily assume I’m trans when they see me on the street for instance.

Morty:  Yeah, I’d like to talk a little bit about that. Can you give me a short timeline on what your trans history has been?

Sassafras:  Sure. Gender for me has always been a complicated journey. Pieces of that journey have involved living and passing as a trans man. I went on and off T twice. I was on T for about two years the last time. For the last several years I have presented as femme, though I still hold a genderqueer/trans identity.

Morty:  Right, I appreciate those in the community who have a “nontraditional” trans history.

Sassafras:  Mine is definitely “nontraditional”. 

Morty:  Have you considered yourself a writer for a long time?

Sassafras:  Writing, like gender, was something I only found once I was safely on my own.  I’m not one of those writers who has written all my life. Growing up in an abusive home I knew that words were dangerous. I didn’t begin writing in earnest until I was on my own. I found writing and zine culture and the stories just started breaking through and thankfully have never stopped

Morty:  You have an anthology out as well, Kicked OutWhen did you begin working on the anthology?

Sassafras:  Kicked Out was released in early 2010 and was twice honored by the American Library Association and was a Lambda Literary Finalist. It brought together the voices of current and former homeless LGBTQ youth. I first began dreaming of that book when I became homeless, but started working on it about 3 years before its release

Morty:  Was the anthology your first published book?

Sassafras:  I’ve been a contributor to numerous anthologies over the years, but Kicked Out was my first book

Morty:  Did you find it hard to get a publisher? For the anthology and for your new novel?

Sassafras:  I was very lucky with Kicked Out and found a publisher very quickly which I know especially for someone’s first book is rare. The experience with Roving Pack was a little different.  I had a tremendous amount of interest from publishers in the novel due to the success of Kicked Out in the last couple of years, but then they discovered that the content was significantly more edgy

Morty:  What do you mean by more edgy?

Sassafras:  I like to say that if Kicked Out was groundbreaking, as many have called it, (Kicked Out was the first book to really grapple with queer youth homelessness in this way) then Roving Pack is edge play. Roving Pack is in your face complicated gender and leather and sex. It’s messy and complicated just like the world I grew up in

Morty:  Do you think because Roving Pack is based on a trans character that it is a “hard sell” for mainstream publishers? Or is it more the sex / leather component?

Sassafras:  I think it’s a combination. I think it wasn’t so much the main character being trans but having a nontraditional transition that was difficult for publishers to wrap their marketing plans around. The world I’ve written about in Roving Pack is bubbling over with really intricate complicated genders and that can be scary for folks who have a binary experience with what trans means. Leather is a huge part of how the characters in this book make sense of their lives, and ultimately I wasn’t willing to remove that in order to make the book safe enough for some publishers

Morty:  Right, I’m glad to hear that! I think, personally, the work coming out now about trans experience is still very tame. Especially when it comes to sexuality and being trans.

Sassafras:  Absolutely, I agree completely.

Morty:  And I am thankful you’re willing to go there and open it up some more.

Sassafras:  Thank you. I did consider taming down the book but ultimately that wouldn’t be true to the trans punk world I came from and the last thing I think we need is another watered down version of our worlds.

Morty:  I agree. Are there queer/trans writers who have inspired you?

Sassafras:  Oh goodness! Absolutely! I wouldn’t be where I am today were it not for the queer/trans writers that inspired me and my writing. I had the chance to work with Kate Bornstein when I was a very young, very angry, trans writer and she really is responsible for a lot of shaping my work to this day. There is also Toni Amato,co-editor of ‘Pinned Down By Pronouns’, Leslie Feinberg, Dorothy Allison, Ivan Coyote, Bear BergmanJeanette Winterson, Susan Stinson…so many!

Morty:  That is a great list!

Sassafras: I feel very blessed that so many of these authors who inspired me when I was first beginning (and to this day) are friends of mine now

Morty: So, are you self-publishing Roving Pack?

Sassafras:  I am. It will be coming out this autumn through PoMo Freakshow Productions. It was a difficult decision for me to come to because at the end of the day I do really believe in traditional publishing. I also believe that each book is an individual and what was right for Kicked Out, and what may be right for my future work wasn’t right for Roving Pack. I made the decision with the support and encouragement of many folks (authors, booksellers etc) in the queer literary world and have been thrilled and overwhelmed with the support this book and I have received so far.

Morty:  That is wonderful to hear!

Sassafras:  When I made the decision to self publish Roving Pack I created an editorial committee to ensure what goes to press is the very best version of this novel.

Morty:  Even with the support it probably feels a little daunting to self publish a book.

Sassafras:  I think, at this point, it’s more exciting than daunting. I feel like I’m in the best possible place to be embarking on a project like this. I’ve got an excellent personal and professional support system. I also handled all the promotion and marketing of Kicked Out, so fresh off that experience I feel pretty prepared

Morty:  Right on!  What do think the state of affairs with trans literature is like now? Once Chaz Bono wrote his memoir a lot of people thought well, we’ve gone mainstream. Specifically, trans fiction seems to be stuck…

Sassafras:  Well, I wasn’t such a fan of Chaz’ memoir. I can send you the review I wrote on Lambda (Link is here). I think that like queer publishing, in the broader sense, it’s complicated. Some work has more mainstream legs, and some is fringier stuff. It’s the later that Roving Pack is part of. I think both are ultimately very important, but as a trans writer I’m much more interested in the more dangerous work, which more closely resembles my world

Morty:  Do you identify as a “trans writer”?

Sassafras:  I do. And a queer writer. It’s very important to me that my identity and the work that I do be connected.

Morty:  So, in no way do you feel pigeonholed when you are discussed as a trans and/or queer writer?

Sassafras:  Not at all. I see myself primarily, and certainly with Roving Pack, as an author writing by/for a segment of the queer/trans community.

Morty:  Something publishers often say, at least to me, is: who is the audience for your book and how can we make that audience bigger? But sometimes the work doesn’t fit with a larger audience.

Sassafras:  Exactly! Roving Pack won’t be at the top of the New York Times with mainstream appeal because it isn’t designed to. I write from within and for our community. I don’t define words or identities in the way I have to when I write for straight audiences.

Morty: Well, I’m certainly looking forward to seeing this book published. Thank you for the interview! Where can the readers keep in touch with you online?

Sassafras: Folks can stay in touch with me online via twitter at www.Twitter.com/SassafrasLowrey or Facebook www.facebook.com/SassafrasLowrey and online at www.PoMoFreakshow.com. Thank you! 

About the new novel - Roving Pack

‘Roving Pack’ is set in an underground world of homeless queer teens. The stories follow the daily life of Click, a straight-edge transgender kid searching for community, identity, and connection amidst chaos. As the stories unfold, we meet a pack of newly sober gender rebels creating art, families and drama in dilapidated punk houses across Portland, Oregon. Roving Pack offers fast-paced in-your-face accounts of leather, sex, hormones, house parties, and protests. But, when gender fluidity takes an unexpected turn, the pack is sent reeling. Click is left picking up the pieces, forced to again face the possibility of losing the home and family he worked so hard to create.

Self Portrait with Mom by Jess Dugan Melsen by Jess Dugan June by Jess Dugan Connor and Erika by Jess Dugan Jen and Dari by Jess Dugan Jessi by Jess Dugan Nate by Jess Dugan

INTERVIEW WITH PHOTOGRAPHER JESS DUGAN 

What are some of the reasons you chose photography as your main artistic expression? 

I make photographs because I have to. It is the way in which I relate to the world around me, and the way in which I am able to know and understand myself. I primarily photograph people, and my camera functions as a way to get to know a wide and diverse group of people very intimately. One of the things I love about photography is that is gives me a reason and medium to explore absolutely anything I am interested in. My camera functions as an access card in many ways, giving me a reason and opportunity to know someone or something in a very personal way.

My first real photographs, taken at age 16, were of my fellow queer and gender variant friends and peers. I was just learning how to use my camera and technically, the images were not very good, but the process of making this work was my first experience with the power of exploring identity through photography.

Do you identify as a “trans artist” and, if so, do you see it as limiting? Why or why not? 

This is something I grapple with a lot.  I actually don’t really solidly identify as a “trans” person.   I consider myself to be gender variant, and I am a part of the trans community, but all of the labels feel limiting to me.  I am not transitioning from one thing to another, but rather on a more fluid path of shifting gender expressions that feel closer and closer to who I am.  So maybe I’m F-to-me. 

A lot of my work is made within the transgender community, and I very strongly feel that I am a part of this community and as such, approach photographing trans and gender variant folks differently than someone outside of the community might.  Ultimately, though, my photographs have to be about much more than someone’s identity to be successful.  I want the viewer to first relate to my subjects as fellow people- to have a connection with them on a purely human level, whether or not they recognize that they are looking at a trans person.  I want my images to portray the complicated and universal experience of being human. 

In terms of the art world, I do think it can be limiting to be labeled as a “trans artist,” or to be perceived as such.  Though a lot of my work deals with gender and identity, many of my projects are not specifically trans related.  Again, if I feel that my work is successful, it will operate on many levels, perhaps appealing to the specific community in which it is made but also appealing to a much broader audience on a more universal level.

What informs your decision to shoot in certain settings, with certain people? 

Choosing who and where to photograph tends to be a fairly instinctual decision.  I often work within certain parameters, such as a location or subject matter, but ultimately it is all about making compelling portraits.  I try to find settings that increase the intimacy of the connection between me and my subject and also make a visually compelling picture.  I told someone recently that finding subjects is just like attraction in terms of dating, etc.  I was asked why I’m drawn to certain people, and I said, “I don’t know, I’m just photo-attracted to them.”  There is something about them that I find interesting or compelling, something about them that makes me want to spend time with them, and ultimately, to spend time looking at them. 

You have shown your work in galleries and museums, can you give aspiring photographers some pointers on getting to where you are now? 

First, I’d say make work that you’re passionate about.  The passion has to start with you.  It is difficult to make work and to pursue a life as an artist, so it has to be something that completely inspires and compels you.  My gallery director always tells me that she wants to work with people for whom making photographs is something they simply have to do- a compulsion, if you will, to create and to make meaning out of their world through photography. 

Second, participate in the world around you.  Go to openings.  Meet people.  Look at the work of other photographers you admire.  Identify people who are successful in the ways you want to be successful and figure out how they got there.

Once you’ve got work that you’re ready to share, apply for group shows, attend portfolio reviews, submit to online photography blogs, etc.  Do whatever you can to get your work out there into venues that feel appropriate for you.  And above it all, keep making work that you’re excited about.   

 

 

Bio: Jess T. Dugan is a large-format portrait photographer whose work explores issues of gender, identity, and shared humanity. Born in Mississippi and raised in Arkansas, Jess then spent twelve years in Boston, Massachusetts, where studied photography at the Massachusetts College of Art and Design and Museum Studies at Harvard University.  She currently lives in Chicago, IL and is pursuing her MFA in photography at Columbia College Chicago. Jess’s photographs are regularly exhibited nationwide and are in the permanent collection of the Harvard Art Museums and the Michele and Donald D’Amour Museum of Fine Arts. Jess is represented by Gallery Kayafas in Boston, MA and the Schneider Gallery in Chicago,  IL. 

 For more info please visit the website: http://www.jessdugan.com/

The Most Magical Place On Earth

By Wyatt Riot 

I thought I was going to piss my self by the time I landed in the airport. As soon as the fasten seat belt sign came on my bladder let me know how full it was. I’m not sure why my bladder couldn’t hold it just a little bit longer. It was almost as if my teeth were floating in my skull. I— was about to explode. If I could have any super power in the world it would be to have a bladder made of steel. No doubt about it.

Sitting in the middle of the plane with an isle seat, watching each person in front of me grab their belongings from the overhead bin and under their seats in anticipation of exiting the plane. Time had slowed down for everyone and I was on full speed. As people slowly left their rows I waited eagerly, standing with my legs crossed while I waited for my turn to exit; my turn to rush out of the plane and into the restroom.

Saying my thank yous to the flight attendants as I exited the plane, I could feel my heart beating faster and the sweat start to slowly drip from my temple. I’m sure I looked like I was going to puke, I was so anxious. It felt like my heart was about to beat out of my chest and onto the floor. With each little step I could feel my bladder start to expand, I wasn’t sure how much longer I could wait.  

I hustled my way past little shops selling over priced snacks and drinks. I saw flustered parents with their children and very serious business people doing seemingly very serious business. I had my own serious business to do. People were running into me left and right, with each tap it felt like a blow to my bladder. Just a little bit longer, that’s all I needed. With how large airports are, you’d think they would have restrooms at every corner. I’d been walking for what seemed like miles. Don’t they know how important it is to pee? 

In the not-so-far distance I saw a glowing sign. In eager anticipation I was hoping it was — yes, it was! RESTROOMS! Oh, the beautiful site of a public restroom. On the other side of that door, sweet relief would be mine.

Suddenly, panic set in. I looked at both restrooms. My eyes going back and forth between the two like the eyes on a tiger hunting their prey. I watched each person enter and exit the restrooms. How did they know where they were supposed to go? Did they use the restroom that matched the gender on their ID? How did they know where they belonged? 

I stood there watching for what seemed like hours, holding my bags which were getting heavier and heavier by the moment. I felt like I was carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders. What am I supposed to do? Where was I supposed to go pee. 

I’ve never understood gendered spaces. I know what my ID says and I know how I feel about my own gender. But that doesn’t always mean the people in the restroom agree. I’ve had my share of being yelled at. It doesn’t feel very good to have children point and stare at you as if you’re a big scary monster. It’s embarrassing to feel threatened by something so simple as the restroom, but it’s really not that simple at all. It would be so much easier if people would respect me when I’m in the restroom. I promise I’m not trying to enter the “wrong” restroom, I’m just trying to pee and not get harassed in the process.

My bladder was feeling worse. I didn’t think it could feel this full. Watching people choose one restroom or the other with what seemed like ease had me feeling envious. Why couldn’t I have traveled with a friend? It’s always easier going to the restroom with someone. Safety in numbers I always say. I’m not sure why my gender threatens people, but the last thing I want is to get yelled at, accosted or worse.  I’ve had my fill of being called slurs. I’ve been called a faggot, dyke, he-she, what the hell are you and more — what people don’t understand is I’m just a person. A person with very basic needs.

I understand my gender. It’s something I’ve thought and fretted about for years, so I know who I am — as much as any person can. For some reason the rest of the world doesn’t seem to understand my gender and they can’t let that go. I don’t really care if people understand me, I just wish others would respect me like I respect them. This doesn’t help me in this moment though. My bladder, it’s still aching.

Standing there just trying to hold on for another minute, people continued rushing past me while saying their usual “excuse me sir” or “excuse me ma’am.” What was I supposed to do? I contemplated pissing my pants, which at twenty seven years old is a little embarrassing. 

As tears started to well up in my eyes from frustration I looked over to my left. I couldn’t believe it. How did I not see this before? The most magical place on earth was only a few feet away from me. I really had won the jackpot this time. I ran as fast as I could to the giant sign that read GENDER NEUTRAL RESTROOM. After I was inside I threw my bags onto the ground and locked the door behind me. What a relief.

If only everywhere I went had these, then I could pee in peace. Is that too much to ask for? It seems like a simple request to me.  

Bio:  wyatt riot is a fat, queer, femme, trans, faggot living and  loving in portland, oregon. he is the host and co-creator of put it in your mouth with wyatt riot (www.putitinyourmouthwithwyattriot.com), web series that documents his love of food and camp. you can find him out in the world blushing and making it happen or often at the library, sipping tea and doing his homework.

Poem by Rhenaiya Jesson

when i look at my reflection i see an ugly face

looking back at me with sad eyes

my hairline far too high, my beard shadow and adams apple

very unbecoming of a woman

i look at my hands, large and stronger than they need to be

i don’t want to fight anymore, i can’t bear anymore burdens

i shake too much to do a good job painting my nails

i see the stubble of body hair, breasts too small to be curvy

hips too narrow to be shapely, my legs are bruised

i see the vericose viens in my ankles and my oversized feet

i took so many steps in the wrong shoes it hurts to go on

i feel like i am imprisoned within a life that isn’t mine

it goes on and on like a punishment for being alive

i see all this and i know why i’m alone, why i’m afraid to go outside

i am guilty of a self inflicted hate crime

Bio: Rhenaiya Jesson is a 33 yr old male-2-female transsexual currently transitioning in Saskatoon, Sk. Canada. She is a guitarist, writer and artist in general, dabbling in whatever medium happens to inspire. 

 

Cyborg 1 by Aryn Zev Cyborg 2 by Aryn Zev Patch by Aryn Zev Spandex Face by Aryn Zev Box by Aryn Zev

Artist Aryn Zev 

When you are thinking about a new project how much do your ideas around gender and your identity with (or without) gender in particular, fit in with the process?  

This answer would be very different if you asked me a year ago. At the time I photographed “Box” or “Inversion,” gender was one of the primary motivations—although I think my work raises more questions about gender assumptions instead of operating as a statement of my ideas.  I was also obsessed for a while with the idea of naturalness—there is still this myth going around about natural bodies and natural sexuality. Some trans and queer discourse has argued for the naturalness of trans experience or queer sexuality, and there are definitely examples in nature of sex changes, variations in gender roles, and non-hetero sexuality. I’m very skeptical about human naturalness, though, and think humans are too artificially cultured and medically enhanced to claim naturalness of any kind. I fully embrace the artificiality of human experience including my own gender expression and sexuality. My work now has evolved from those concerns and is currently more focused on the ability to reinvent the self, creating vehicles for consciousness and total environments rather than issues of gender in particular.

What would you say to those who are new to the art world? Specifically, what would you impart about being an artist in todays society who are trans / genderqueer / gender-variant identified? 

 I hate giving advice, seriously. There are so many ways to approach the question. I guess one suggestion would be to explore whether you are a trans/gq/gv artist whose work deals with these issues or whether you want to make work about other things because I don’t think every trans/gq/gv person needs to make work about their identity or have that as a focus. And don’t let anyone pigeonhole you into it. I strongly encourage avoiding narratives of oppression and repression in the mold of the evolutionarily straggling mass media. Instead, create your own unexplored models of cutthroat genius.   


Please tell us what your plans are for the future for your work. 

As I mentioned before, I’ve become interested in the potential for recreating the self and the environment in total, not just an identity shift within a singular person.  If creating new names, new careers, new life conditions can be considered art, then that is my main project—I am constructing multiple identities and operating under those conditions to obtain experiences.  I am also working on a number of collaborations, performing in several films by Jake Davidson and videos with Ingrid Staats, and participating in occasional live events with Shadow Lover. I have tentative plans to collaborate with Juan Bethancurt on some performances, photos, or videos utilizing his vast collection of sadistic domestic objects in the near future.  

 

Bio: Aryn Zev is a digital media and performance artist based in Brooklyn, New York.

Find Aryn at this website: arynzev.com

Not Much of a Man
By Rebecca Kling 
One of the oddest experiences of my transition was going off hormones to deposit sperm. (Almost three years ago!) It made me feel –perhaps more than any other single situation –as if I was balanced on a knife edge between ‘man’and ‘woman.’I wasn’t a woman (the thinking went) since I was at a doctor’s office attempting to deposit sperm. And I wasn’t much of a man (the same train of thought concluded) since my sperm count was so frustratingly low the doctor couldn’t get a viable sample. It was an agonizing paradox, of sorts: If my sperm count was high enough for a successful deposit, the hormones weren’t reshaping my body in the way I wanted them to. If my sperm count wasn’t high enough for a successful deposit, the hormones were working but I’d have to stay off of them even longer, in hopes of getting my sperm count up. 
Either way, I lost. 
Since then, I’ve had many occasions where I felt uncomfortable being too ‘girly’or to ‘manly,’and have been unsure of how to navigate my way through. I’m reminded of a time, a year or two ago, I was bringing home groceries with a friend. I was attempting to carry way too much, and she laughed and yelled, “You’re not a man any more! You don’t have to do everything at once, so take two trips!” 
Then, when I was in the hospital getting my gallbladder removed last year, my mom brought me a care package in the hospital. In it was some girly magazine with makeup and clothing tips, one of those thick glossy things you’d buy in the checkout line at the supermarket. I tossed it aside, not because I didn’t want to look at it, but because I was convinced I’d somehow be perceived as a girl if I did so. My friends who came to visit, the nurses, the doctors, they’d know I was a girl! (As if the boobs, name tag reading ‘Rebecca,’and being referred to by female pronouns didn’t tip them off.) My roommate, of course, waltzed in and picked up the magazine, saying “Oh, can I read this when you’re done?”(So much for that worry.) 
A constant worry throughout my transition has been that I’ll do something ‘wrong,’whatever that means. My makeup will be applied incorrectly, my clothing will be hideously mismatched, my taste in movies or books or decorating style will be embarrassingly pre-teen to make up for the adolescence I feel I missed. 
Slowly, though, slowly I’ve realized those worries are roadblocks rather than sanity checks. Instead of guiding me toward sane and reasonable choices, they’ve guided me away from exploring my at-long-last female identity. I’m comfortable and confident in my ability to dress myself in pants and t-shirts, but I enjoy putting on myself in tights (or leggings? I can never remember which is which) and a dress. Which means –in a lesson I keep relearning every few months –I should try to do that more! (Duh!) Likewise, while it’s easier and less stressful to go out sans makeup than figure out if my eyeliner application was even and appropriate, I like how I look with a bit of makeup. So the only way to make that experience less stressful is to do it. 
And then, lo and behold, enjoy the compliments I receive when I put a little more effort into my appearance. 
Because I’m not much of a man. I was never much of a man. I was mediocre at being a man, hated getting on suits and ties, and have only resisted reveling in my femininity because I’m scared of doing it wrong, not because I don’t think I’ll enjoy it. 
Which is a silly reason to stay away from something.



Check out more of Rebecca on her websites: www.rebeccakling.com and fridaythang.com/blog

Not Much of a Man

By Rebecca Kling 

One of the oddest experiences of my transition was going off hormones to deposit sperm. (Almost three years ago!) It made me feel –perhaps more than any other single situation –as if I was balanced on a knife edge between ‘man’and ‘woman.’I wasn’t a woman (the thinking went) since I was at a doctor’s office attempting to deposit sperm. And I wasn’t much of a man (the same train of thought concluded) since my sperm count was so frustratingly low the doctor couldn’t get a viable sample. It was an agonizing paradox, of sorts: If my sperm count was high enough for a successful deposit, the hormones weren’t reshaping my body in the way I wanted them to. If my sperm count wasn’t high enough for a successful deposit, the hormones were working but I’d have to stay off of them even longer, in hopes of getting my sperm count up. 

Either way, I lost. 

Since then, I’ve had many occasions where I felt uncomfortable being too ‘girly’or to ‘manly,’and have been unsure of how to navigate my way through. I’m reminded of a time, a year or two ago, I was bringing home groceries with a friend. I was attempting to carry way too much, and she laughed and yelled, “You’re not a man any more! You don’t have to do everything at once, so take two trips!” 

Then, when I was in the hospital getting my gallbladder removed last year, my mom brought me a care package in the hospital. In it was some girly magazine with makeup and clothing tips, one of those thick glossy things you’d buy in the checkout line at the supermarket. I tossed it aside, not because I didn’t want to look at it, but because I was convinced I’d somehow be perceived as a girl if I did so. My friends who came to visit, the nurses, the doctors, they’d know I was a girl! (As if the boobs, name tag reading ‘Rebecca,’and being referred to by female pronouns didn’t tip them off.) My roommate, of course, waltzed in and picked up the magazine, saying “Oh, can I read this when you’re done?”(So much for that worry.) 

A constant worry throughout my transition has been that I’ll do something ‘wrong,’whatever that means. My makeup will be applied incorrectly, my clothing will be hideously mismatched, my taste in movies or books or decorating style will be embarrassingly pre-teen to make up for the adolescence I feel I missed. 

Slowly, though, slowly I’ve realized those worries are roadblocks rather than sanity checks. Instead of guiding me toward sane and reasonable choices, they’ve guided me away from exploring my at-long-last female identity. I’m comfortable and confident in my ability to dress myself in pants and t-shirts, but I enjoy putting on myself in tights (or leggings? I can never remember which is which) and a dress. Which means –in a lesson I keep relearning every few months –I should try to do that more! (Duh!) Likewise, while it’s easier and less stressful to go out sans makeup than figure out if my eyeliner application was even and appropriate, I like how I look with a bit of makeup. So the only way to make that experience less stressful is to do it. 

And then, lo and behold, enjoy the compliments I receive when I put a little more effort into my appearance. 

Because I’m not much of a man. I was never much of a man. I was mediocre at being a man, hated getting on suits and ties, and have only resisted reveling in my femininity because I’m scared of doing it wrong, not because I don’t think I’ll enjoy it. 

Which is a silly reason to stay away from something.

Check out more of Rebecca on her websites: www.rebeccakling.com and fridaythang.com/blog

INTERVIEW WITH WRITER MAX WOLF VALERIO

Morty Diamond: Hey Max! Alright, first question. Do you date women primarily?

Max Valerio: Only women.

MD: And you always have?

MV: Yes, however, I did try guys out as a teenager. There was certainly more pressure to be heterosexual when I was growing up in the 60’s and 70’s, and I succumbed to that. However, I am also the type of person who likes to experiment and push my own envelope of comfort. It was important to me to experience many different things, to have varied sexual experiences, and to really explore my sexuality. I saw sexuality as a kind of jumping off place for the exploration of consciousness, of self and other. I still do. But no, guys never did it for me, I have always loved women.

MD: So would you use the term heterosexual to describe yourself?

MV: Oh yeah, yeah I’m heterosexual.

MD: And you don’t have any issues with that word?

MV: No, not at all. “Heterosexual” describes me very well. I am very attracted to
women and I enjoy the sensation of being a man with a woman. I like that contrast
between bodies and enjoy the male/female dynamic in sexual situations. Of course,
being a man with women is fraught with sexual politics, but on a primal level, I find it very erotically compelling and — it makes me feel complete. Which isn’t to say that I don’t realize that I am different from other heterosexual men, because I am transsexual. I guess this difference is a type of queerness, or at least,
another way of being pretty damn weird. I cherish that. I cherish the fact that I am at odds with the world while also being completely ordinary in a sense. As an artist, this experience, where I am in a continual state of paradox, enables me to develop compassion and empathy, as well as to extend my thinking and imagination. I think in that sense, it is a gift.

MD: So you date mostly straight women?

MV: Yes, I have dated mostly straight women up until the relatively recent past. I
actually really do like heterosexual women, speaking generally. I like women who are attracted to male energy, to men. Now, what is interesting to me is that in the last few years there have suddenly been all these femmes who are interested in trans men. This is new. My last girlfriend was a femme dyke, very lesbian identified. I was her first man; we met after I had been transitioned for 14 years and so I was way past my beginning phase and very integrated into the world as a man. I was very physically male. She had never kissed anyone with facial hair before and screamed the first time I kissed her! She said the whole experience was very alien to her and scary. My body was harder, I smelled different.

MD: So you’ve seen a new avenue open for you with femmes in your community?

MV: Yes. I started transitioning in 1989, I had just turned 32, and it was very different then. There was only one support group, FTM organized by Lou Sullivan, and there were only a couple of books that I knew of. There was so little information out there. Transition really did feel like making a stab in the dark, it was a bizarre crazy thing to be doing. I was basically turning myself into a bizarre alien life form, a circus freak or something. Anyway, back then there were no so-called “tranny chasers” — at least for trans men. I had never heard of such a thing. Well, now there are and I think women who are comfortable or friendly with the idea of transsexuality is a good thing! But, I would never limit myself to “tranny chasers” or queer women –never have, never will. The world is filled with women after all.

MD: Yes, have you encountered any particular issues that come up with dating straight women ?

MV: I’ve never really had a problem. In the beginning of transition, I was filled with
trepidation. I think that many heterosexual women, if they were asked whether or not they would date a transsexual, would reject the idea. As a theoretical possibility, it is not attractive or may just seem bizarre. But, once a woman meets me, and experiences me first as a man and a real person, if we have an attraction and a rapport, she usually gets over that. This has been my experience at least, and maybe I have been lucky. However, I believe in the optimistic approach, it is always better to try and approach women and relationships with confidence.
Of course, I choose women who are more likely to be open to the idea of dating a transman. I’ve dated creative, entrepreneurial women, women in the post punk rock scene, artists, women who were a bit off the beaten path – independent thinkers. I am not trying to date women who are Evangelical Christians or extremely socially conservative. Also, there are a whole lot of heterosexual women out there, and it is really hard to generalize about such a huge group of people. I think that since trans men want others to have an open mind, it is imperative that we do as well. I find that relationships with femmes and relationships with heterosexual women present different, if equally daunting challenges. I was never worried in my relationship with a femme whether or not she would reject me because I was trans. I worried she would reject me because I was a man. The trans part was what made me an acceptable man. And with the straight women I never worried that I would be rejected because I am a man, but that being a transsexual might erode our relationship in some way, over time. Heterosexual women were very comfortable with my male identity, it was “home” to
them. But the fact that I was a trans man was what both intrigued and challenged them. So, there is no one group of people that is going to make us feel comfortable all the time. I think relationships present unique challenges for trans men, and there is no easy way out of that. You just have to relate to each situation and person individually and hope for the best.However, usually when straight women find out, they tend to be intrigued. I mean, it never turned anyone off entirely. The fact that I was trans would always add another dimension to me in their mind.

MD: A dimension you appreciated, you liked? It sounds a little exoticizing…

MV: Well, I would rather that reaction, that they were intrigued and encouraged than the opposite — thinking that being trans makes me less desirable. And certainly, I actually am different from non-trans men. What that difference means however is debatable. I mean, both femmes and het women often think that my difference, my “transness” is intriguing. Femmes feel more comfortable with me because I am a trans man, it kind of gives them “permission” to be with me, with a man. Heterosexual women may feel that I am special or unique in some way that they wish to understand. The most problematic thing about these expectations is that I may be expected to be more sensitive, magical or to fulfill some type of longing for a transcendent male being. I mean, I really am simply a man, even if I am different. Both types of women have something valuable to offer, and finally – it is really about individual chemistry and not simply what a woman’s sexual orientation or history is. And, I’ve found that I can fit into either the straight or queer world; I am always an individual, myself, in each context. Actually, the difficulty that straight women generally have is that they don’t know what
to tell their friends and family about my transsexuality. And, since they have never had an experience of being queer, being with someone who is transsexual is challenging and scary in terms of their own social acceptance. Again, as for being exoticized, well — I’ve been transitioned over 19 years now, so a part of me doesn’t even care one way or another. I’ve been through so much, in a way, that being pursued by “tranny chasers” does not bother me. I mean, like most men, the idea of being “objectified” is not at the top of my list of worries. How many straight guys or even gay men complain about this? I see it this way; some women like musicians, some women are drawn to athletes or wealthy men. Others like men with a certain build, men with a particular style or men of a certain class or ethnicity. Attractions are attractions and frankly, desire is not politically
correct. I have my own preferences, and find certain women more appealing for various reasons. Some of these reasons I am fully conscious of, and others are hidden just beneath the edges of my awareness. So, if a woman is intrigued by the fact that I am a transsexual, I don’t think that is necessarily a negative thing. Of course, there has to be a lot more than that between us, but certainly it can be a catalyst, much like my being a writer can be a catalyst. Some women are drawn to writers also you know!

MD: There are so many levels…how do we negotiate this. You want to be seen as male and not as a transguy so…

MV: Yes, I want to be seen as a man ultimately, but really a trans man is a kind of man. There does not have to be a contradiction. This is very important for trans men to really understand and integrate into our deepest beliefs about who we are.
Of course, I get insecure like any trans guy. It is easy to be insecure since we are perched in a position of insecurity since we have crossed from femaleness to maleness. We inhabit a place of some ambiguity and complexity. Even so, I’ve found that one must be secure in oneself first and foremost. You can’t rely
on reassurance from the rest of the world, or from your partner. Your manhood should not be something one negotiates, but something one knows.
That said, I do think that it can be difficult when a trans man is with a person who is very invested in our trans identity. From my experience, this appears to be more of an issue with femme women than with heterosexual women. Femme women who date trans men often state that they will only date trans men, they will not date genetic (non-trans) men. This appears strange to me since these same women may not even be able to tell the difference between any given trans man and a non-trans man. I am not entirely comfortable with this assertion, yet I know that for many femmes, this distinction between trans and non-trans men is a crucial one. As long as they are dating a man who is trans, they feel they can still maintain their identity as queer. While this feels problematic, I also respect their right to make that distinction for themselves. Regardless of my own trepidations about this preference, I do respect it. I mean, these femmes have their preferences, just as I have mine. However, when a woman expects somehow that I am extremely different from non-trans men, I do think that over time, that she might be in for some surprises.

MD: What would catch them by surprise?

MV: That’s a good question because all of this is so amorphous. People have such
varying experiences and perceptions and it is difficult to capture the essence of these. I’ve heard it all. I’ve been with straight women who have told me “you’re the most masculine man I’ve ever been with” and that I am some sort of apex of maleness. Now, I don’t actually believe this about myself. I just think that when people are in love they’re crazy! So people say many things at different times.
Sooner or later, however, in my experience women do realize that they are with a genuine “real” man who is not necessarily as different from non-trans men as they may have imagined. Or, the perception of that difference from non-trans men is fleeting, it is intangible and difficult to grasp as solid or quantifiable.

MD: Are you single right now?

MV: Yeah.

MD: So tell me how you traverse this San Francisco dating scene. Depending on which community you’re in at different moments, like a party or social gathering and how people see you.

MV: Well, I am just myself, and I trust fate, what else can you do?

MD: Do you out yourself quickly to a woman who has no idea you’re trans?

MV: I generally wait until I am sure there is a genuine interest and that it is worth
pursing. Which slows down everything. I’ll have to see her a few times and make sure I like her before I say anything. I want her to get an impression of me first, I think its really important that she gets an impression of me before I break the news. This cuts down on the one night stands, at least with straight women! That’s gone! But with the femmes you can definitely relax a little more because they already know. I mean, if I meet them at a place where trans men are expected to be. Sometimes, I still have to tell them, since even then people don’t automatically take me for a trans man –but at least, it is not something entirely unexpected. I can meet those women at a party for queer women and trans people, for example, or through some activity based around the trans community.

MD: Lets segue into talking about your writing and the heresay that goes on. The
preconceived notions about your attitude towards women through your writing.

MV: I know there is a crazy rumor about me that I’m a misogynist! A knuckle dragging anti-woman macho man! Very funny. I guess that’s the rumor… Anti-woman, super macho, misogynist, all of that. It’s insane.

MD: Well, it seems there has been a persona that’s been built around you based on your work, a lot of it, to me, taken out of context.

MV: Yeah, it’s very strange to me. I think it is absurd actually, I have no idea who this person is that people are talking about. That person is not me, it must be someone else. The memoir is very sexual, very heterosexual, and again, completely unapologetic. I celebrate masculinity in the book. The Testosterone Files is unafraid to peer deeply into male desire.

MD: It sounds like the community was against that. A man with your history of being trans… accepting your base male desires.

MV: (Laughs)Well, I guess so. Yeah even the other transguys! Well, not everyone, but there are a few who have made a lot of noise.

MD: Why do you think certain parts of the trans community is so unwilling to accept a transguy who is fully accepting of his heterosexuality?

MV: I am unafraid to explore raw male heterosexual sexuality, a kind that’s very primal, dark. That gets some people very upset. Also, I think there is a lot of misandry, anti-male sentiment in certain parts of the trans community that intersect with certain parts of the feminist dyke world, and since I am
very visible, I’ve become the focus of people’s projections around a certain type of male sexuality in the queer community. Well, that’s because I’m unapologetically putting it out there in the films, the films I’ve made with Monika Truet, particularly the “Max” documentary, but especially in my memoir.

MD: Do you feel like you are one of very few transmen who are vocal about their
heterosexuality?

MV: Yeah. Now I’m seen as somebody who took it all the way to this extreme in terms of expression, and certainly I’m not alone, but I may be the only one who is writing about it quite like this. And I have become the focus of all these fears, and also projections around maleness. And really, ultimately, it’s a rejection of male heterosexuality, a very profound rejection of male heterosexuality. And following that apparent rejection, the quandary for many of us is, if you are a heterosexual trans man, and you stay in the queer community, can you express your
sexuality?

MD: And what about your personal relationships?

MV: Well the women I date and the people who know me, they are shocked. I’ll find some of these rumors about me being a “notorious misogynist” online and show them to people and they just laugh. The women I’ve dated are stunned, my friends are stunned, they don’t know the person these people are talking about, he is a dream image. A close, longtime friend of mine observed, “Oh, its like Crowley. He used to be known as ‘The Evilest Man in the World’.”

MD: You’re perhaps the evilest transsexual man in the world!

MV: Ha! Yes, the “evilest transsexual man in the world!” Mwwwah ha haaaaa!

MD: Lets segue into talking more about your book The Testosterone Files. What’s your feeling about people calling your book misogynist?

MV: Again, I think that’s crazy. It’s a misreading of the book to read it as misogynist. Actually, this is simply an ad hominem attack by people who are challenged by the book. It is a failure of critical thinking and a failure to read the text accurately. I’ve heard through the grapevine a lot of fairly insane claims about the memoir, including the idea that I am somehow encouraging men to rape women. Or, that I excuse rape, or bad male behavior in general. Again, this is a misreading of the book. I really wanted to capture the chaotic experience of transitioning in the first five years. And I wanted to immerse the reader in that experience, which is adolescent and transforming. The Testosterone Files is a provocative book, I’m a provocative writer. However, I am in no way excusing men’s mistreatment of women. On the other hand, I didn’t want to preach. It’s not an activist book, it is a text that demands immersion in experience, and while I reflect on my experience, I do not preach.

MD: You didn’t censor yourself at all?

MV: Right, I wanted it to be very honest. I wanted to show the really raw stuff. The most controversial chapter in the book is “Cock In My Pocket”, where I talk about rape. I wanted to reveal our secrets, trans mens’ secrets. I did not want to deliver a whitewashed and “safe” book. I wanted the reader to question their own experiences and assumptions.

MD: (reading from the book) No wonder guys lose it sometimes, I think. How can they not? In the beginning I think this is a lot. My god, if this is how men feel how come they don’t rape more often? Rape and plunder. Take. (The Testosterone Files – pg. 229)

MV: Well, I wanted to bring the reader into the intensity, the scariness of those feelings.

MD: Scary for you?

MV: For me! The fact that that this thought even came into my mind was terrifying. People misread it and think that it’s a green light. But right after that, I am very clear, I write: “It is wrong to rape. I knew that before; I know that still. Any man who acts out these fantasies or impulses, no matter how strong, is doing a wrong act. An abominable act, and should be punished.” (The Testosterone Files – pg. 229) This is really about the struggle between a moral imperative and a very dark impulse. Of course, I am on the side, as a person, as a writer, of the moral imperative — “it is wrong to rape”, as I write.

MD: But then you say “Even so, I understand now the force of will it can take to keep from running wild with these feelings, the temptation.”(The Testosterone Files – pg. 229)

MV: Understanding something does not mean automatically that one condones it.
Throwing light and subsequently, some clarity on any impulse, any emotion, any act, this is never a negative thing. I guess this is the dark side and as an artist I’m not afraid of the dark side. I think that’s part of my job, to go deeper in my investigation than Oprah would. Of course, I don’t really entirely understand why people rape or murder. Why someone would go through with a dark impulse that is so violent. There has to be a screw loose. However, because I am now more biologically male because of testosterone, I understand more than I did before.

MD: It is exactly what you said, the dark side, because it is not something people want to believe, that testosterone can unlock some of those hidden doors.

MV: Yes, some people don’t even want to believe there is a dark side! I think people make choices, and certainly, some people make the wrong ones, they are bent. Or, certain circumstances come into play and they choose a certain direction. In any event, I am not condoning bad behavior even if I am shining a light on it. Certainly, testosterone does not make anyone automatically into a rapist.

MD: Of course not!

MV: But the sex drive of testosterone definitely can be a catalyst, that heightened
underlying drive to sex that occurs on testosterone can be expressed violently by some men. I mean, obviously rape is something men do and we know that. And so becoming a man I started to understand more about how that could happen. Not that I would actually want to do it, or that I excuse it, but I started understanding how this act might become possible. And that’s all I’m saying.
I have been around trans men who have told me “I’ve had times where if I wasn’t in my house, I am afraid that I would have raped a woman.” That is an intense and scary statement. I never had that experience by the way. Some of this is individual to each person obviously. I mean, every man has a different variation of this experience of testosterone changing his sex drive, and heightening it, each person brings their own sexual preferences into the picture, their own reality testing, their unique ability to empathize with others or not, and yes, their feelings and attitudes about women. Also, there is a cultural aspect: what does the culture teach about women? Does the culture create an environment where women are valued, respected, protected from violence, or not? That is also very important.
However, this statement from a trans man, one of many I’ve heard like this, contradicts the myth that a trans man would never feel or think sexually dark violent thoughts. I mean, the myth that trans men are not able to feel any impulse or fantasy of sexual violence because of our “female socialization”. Obviously, more than socialization is at play here, to one degree or another.
Another thing to remember is that fantasy is one thing and doing something is another. I am careful to make that distinction in the memoir as well.

MD: Do you experience a lot of misogyny in the trans male community? Do you see a lot of it?

MV: No, I do not. Even this guy who made that provocative statement did not actually hate women. He was only expressing a fear, a feeling, a nearly overwhelming dark sexual impulse that was momentary. But while I have not seen a lot of misogyny, I have seen some misogyny among trans men. There are trans men who have told me that they don’t like women very much, or that they dislike feminine women in particular, they are kind of allergic to femininity, at least as women express it. Not all of these trans men are heterosexual, in fact, many are queer identified or gay trans men. However, altogether I think that trans men are not any more or any less misogynist than any other group of men. In fact, I still think that since we have had female experiences living in the world, we are often more empathetic to women, although this is not always true. Certainly, it is often the case. Breaking it down, misogyny means contempt and hatred of women. And again, most of us don’t have hatred and contempt of women. However, personally, it is one of those accusations where I almost don’t want to defend myself too loudly or too much. I mean, I don’t want to even give it validity by taking it seriously.

MD: You don’t want to be yelling, “That is not me!”

MV: The accusation is so absurd as to be almost beneath me, its crazy to even take it seriously. I don’t want to be defensive as there is no reason for me to be. But, I will defend myself a bit here anyway. Anyone who knows me in real life knows that I treat women with respect, as equals – which is what women are. I actually don’t hate or have contempt for anyone, male or female. Ironically, in some respects, I actually prefer women to men, in some ways I actually like them better generally speaking. But, I certainly like men also and I try and see the world from a large vantage. I think it is important to develop empathy for all kinds of human experiences and people. There is another angle on the memoir, which many who think I am misogynist would never expect. The core audience for the book was always supposed to be heterosexual women actually, and they have often championed the book and been its greatest fans. The Testosterone Files has helped many women understand their boyfriends or husbands.
I get this feedback from women all the time. Susie Bright actually had that take on the book – that it would be helpful to women trying to understand men. And so, it often is. I actually heard that one female student, who had attended a reading of mine at her college, told her professor that The Testosterone Files saved her relationship with her boyfriend! I hear a lot of testimony like that. And, of course the memoir has helped trans men through transition. So, I don’t want to make this sound as though the reaction to the memoir has all been negative, not at all. Or, even that I don’t have many women champions. However, I have observed that people tend to love the memoir or be very upset, there is very little middle ground. Possibly, that’s not entirely a bad thing.

MD: Well, Max this has been quite an illuminating interview. I appreciate your time with me.

MV: Thanks Morty, it was great.

THE SMELL OF MELTING BARBIE FLESH

by Suzi Hayes 

The girls are in the end room of the house, the sewing room, but they’re not sewing. They’re huddled beneath the sewing table, a narrow formica bench pushed up hard against the back wall, playing Barbies. She has a lighter and a razor blade. The girls are careful not to make a sound, discovery sure to equal disaster, as they perform the operations. The dirty blonde synthetic hair is hacked off with the razor blade. She begins cutting under the armpit, the flexible metal blade buckling against the stiff plastic of the Barbie’s breast, cutting upwards in a circular motion. The operation is completed with a smoothing of the cut through the application of the heat. They take the evidence to the incinerator in her backyard and burn it before her parents get home from work. The smell of melting Barbie flesh hangs over the street.

Suzi Hayes has worked as a mechanist, bicycle courier, arts manager and freelance writer. She is interested in experimental and avant-garde texts that blur the boundaries of gender and genre. She currently lives in Melbourne, Australia.

Photo by Katrina Del Mar He'll Risk Anything by Chloe Dzubilo Emergency Care by Chloe Dzubilo Back Off Papi by Chloe Dzubilo There is a Transolution by Chloe Dzubilo Collage by Chloe Dzubilo Behind Closed Doors by Chloe Dzubilo Long Term Survivor by Chloe Dzubilo She Makes Things... by Chloe Dzubilo Leave Her Alone by Chloe Dzubilo

Chloe Dzubilo

by JP Borum

Chloe was a friend. I loved Chloe because she was a beautiful spirit, a transfeminista whose strong feminine presence nurtured my emo transmasculinity. She “got” people’s gender deal immediately—what a relief that can be after a day in the trenches. Through the hugs she generously gave me and all her friends, she silently told us: “I feel you, gurl” “I love you, boy,” “I know how hard it is sometimes,” and “be strong.” Chloe was in so much pain toward the end of her life, but she rarely complained.

When I first met Chloe about 12 years ago, I was in awe of her. She was already a downtown legend. I had a little crush on her, that’s for sure. She was so damn hot (all legs)  in Katrina del Mar’s cult classic film Gang Girls 2000, as a member of the girl gang The Blades. Chloe and I used to sit upstairs in that health food store on 6th Avenue, eating organic almond butter together. I listened for hours as she told me about her life as an equestrienne, and how she was involved in a nonprofit organization that helped children with AIDS get to ride horses. I remember thinking Wow. Her voice was hypnotic and sweet and healing. Lately, I’ve been conjuring it to get through the rougher days. Not everyone can turn her pain into healing, but that’s what Chloe did.

I saw in her drawings a powerful street sensibility, a punk zine DIY mode of autoethnography in which she literally shapeshifted, transforming pain into triumph, abuse into survival. Her work reveals her to be a trickster shamaness who parodied and ultimately outsmarted her oppressors on the street and in the transphobic healthcare system. It’s impossible to separate her visual art from her 1980s conceptual performance at the Pyramid Club with the Blacklips Peformance Cult, from her contribution to the punk movement as the frontgurl of Transisters, or from her transactivism within the NYC healthcare system. Her visual art—especially her graphic ouevre—is the overarching thread that captures the arc her beautiful life as a recovering transwoman with AIDS.

I began to talk to Chloe about her artwork. Much of our conversation was conducted daily on SMS with XOXOs, and GURLs and is lost forever. I was lucky enough to bear witness, through mutually supportive texts, to her work as co-curator of the exhibition Transeuphoria, a group show of transgender artists, which included work by her friends Antony and Justin Vivian Bond. It’s not easy to make a successful art show happen in New York these days, but she did it.

A month before she passed away, I had the urge to capture some of what we were sharing, even though it went against my instinct to try and force our dialogue in any way. I sent her open-ended questions about her life and the inspiration for her artwork. I also asked her to tell me about specific works of art, and she did. She responded with a series of emails, and expressed her desire to have it presented as a cohesive statement: “I hope it can be edited the way I wove it all in. Maybe it’s too much like a qualification.” 

No, Chloe, it’s not too much like a qualification! And even if it was, it would still help people.

What follows is her statement, the way she wove it all in, and some thoughts about works she picked out. Her decades-long challenge to transphobia could not be more timely. In the weeks following Chloe’s memorial at the Judson Church, we saw a wave of attacks against transpeople in NYC. Is it wrong to imagine Chloe the Blade as an avenging angel? I will try instead to think of her spirit of love and forgiveness. Her passing shouldn’t be seen as the end of anything, but rather as a start of a new phase of Trans-awareness and trans-activism. Bodies Of Work is a promising step in that direction. I wish Chloe could see this blog. I think maybe she can.                                                                                             —JP Borum 

Chloe Dzubilo:

I am an art school drop out, but did get a scholarship to an experimental arts HS in Madison, Connecticut. It taught me self-motivation and the teachers were awesome. I came to NYC and became distracted while starting classes at the New School, was decorating my shoes back then with glue gun and newspaper articles and little drawings.  Writing poetry and dance became my thing—just wanted to dance all the time. I used to wear the shoes when I worked at Studio 54.

 I became the ad director at the East Village Eye magazine back then, so was around a lot of artists. I worked on an East Village map and guide then, so I was selling ad space for indie films and designers. My dad worked at a newspaper for the entire time I was growing up. My dad encouraged me to write, and my mom was always doing creative fun stuff with us. I loved drawing flowers—and poetry. I was exposed to NYC art life in HS, as we would come into NYC and see bands and go to art shows. And my brother was an artist—he really encouraged me.

 In NYC I knew many artists who passed from AIDS—people think it was such a glam time. It was a really intense time, and my partner at the time was managing the Pyramid Club, so I was exposed to all kinds of gender expressions and performance art. But people were dying and using a lot of drugs as well.

The first time I dressed as a woman I was working at the Pyramid and dressed as Karen Silkwood. My brother had influenced me regarding anti-nukes rallies, so I really identified with her, and with Annie Hall, being a wasp and all. I didn’t even say the F word till I was 32. Hard to believe maybe, but true. I was already into dressing like Annie Hall back then. So I guess that was how I could express myself—through clothes, dancing, make up, the shoes. I loved using words always, and trashing classic clothes as part of my rebelliousness. Everybody was so gifted back then—it was like living in a life museum. Again AIDS was such a huge part of that time. I found out I was poz back then. So I’m a long-term survivor.

Years later, when I transitioned, clothes were a major part of expression, but it had the ability to attract some pretty wild people, and that used to really freak me out. I started to write poems again, and met incredible musicians, and we all created this band called Transisters. I would write on my body for gigs, wrote poems about what was happening during transition, and they became the songs. I found I could be this strong female-identified person with a voice, finally. And I used to draw pictures of things that were happening that I would get really upset by. Like dealing with being trans in the healthcare machine. Even in the hospital there would be creative stuff going on. There was no policy to protect queer people accessing healthcare. I was also working on the front lines in the trans movement in the 90’s. So I would listen to transwomen and these horrible experiences. Many didn’t want to even go to doctors or had been treated like freaks. You know, transsexualism is still considered a mental illness, where gay and lesbian was taken out [of the DSM] over 25 yrs ago. So there was a group of us working on the front lines, fighting against all the pathologizing of us as transpeople and genderqueer people. This is when transgender really became knwn more. I always had an issue with the term transsexual, ‘cause at its root is the word sex, and it’s not about sex, its about gender expression. Many people make it about sex. I found out in transition. I mean transpeople are incredible to look at, I feel—amazing—and I pray that one day there are policies to protect us all.

 I have always felt that we need another pronoun at this time in herstory/history. It’s so clear that there has always been something other than just two genders, and at the root of our speaking I think all people get this—they just don’t know how to really incorporate it into our mainstream language. Lingo is what we do have in community, and maybe with the way texting is creating new lingo—our youth are creating this lingo every day—now we just have to advocate for this third gender. I know some people think there are more genders. I’ve seen the worst in all people around this, and the most incredible humanity coming from people not in the community. We are all more alike than we’d like to admit. I’m over seeing how transpeople are abused in systems.

I used to show horses, the only sport where men and woman compete equally. My family didn’t have money, so I had to work for it. I was working as a kid basically. Being a long term survivor is high maintenance. What people don’t get is that there are side effects from HIV meds. I have had my share of that crap—if young people knew what they were in for when they are having unsafe sex. I know for me, I saved myself by not taking HIV meds for over 10 yrs. That’s my story. I use a low dose of HIV meds today, thank God.

I want to make my work larger. The work I’ve done was mostly created from being in bed. I have terrible neuropathy and live with a lot of chronic bone pain. The works are mostly small, ‘cause I work where I live, in a studio apartment.

I think its my life’s mission to educate. Transwomen are still treated as women were in the early days, where  woman weren’t allowed to be angry if something wasn’t right for them. I’ve been oppressed by so many different types of people that eventually it just becomes absurd and comical almost. It’s so ridiculous how much gender is still the final frontier!!!! 

I like that last line ‘cause it’s oh so true.  

 About the artwork: 

 “He’ll Risk Anything”  - this is a statement on men who will risk anything just to have sex with a transwoman. This attraction is like no other.”

“Behind Closed Doors” - This refers to what is politically correct regarding how to address a transperson, vs what people really say and/or think about transpeople.

“Emergency Care” - This is about a real experience at a time when people were offering me seats on the subway and busses as I was being perceived as a pregnant woman.

 “She Makes Things Bigger Than They Really Are” – A self-portrait inspired by times when I know someone has a level of transphobia, and they have a position of power over me such as someone who is tryng to rent me an apartment, or a medical provider, any person in authority. I know what time it really is—the transperson knows what time it really is regarding transphobia.

  “Leave Her Alone”—This shows the protective, maternal nature I have with transgirls that came in for help where I used to work.

“Back Off Papi” (formerly titled “White Girl Ass.”) This is when I had more weight on, and was very curvy. I experienced the world as a white woman of substance, and men from other cultures would follow me sometimes, saying shit about my butt being big. One man said what it says here. At that point I was so over being objectified. I didn’t know if they knew I was trans either. You know, if they figured it out they could potentially become violent—they would get so pumped up like that on the street. It’s messed up and not cool. That’s what this one is about. I was assaulted by one of those guys one day near my street in the East Village.

 

FIVE QUESTIONS WITH DJ MICHELLE LOVE 

How much does being trans affect your career as a DJ? In other words, do people always want to bill you as “Michelle the transsexual DJ”?

I DJ’ed before I started to transition, and I continued to DJ during my transition. So, in the early days it was very obvious I was trans. I was lucky that I worked at a club which had a reputation for being LGBTQI and did shows that had a Cirque Du Soleil atmosphere. My ambiguous presentation just blended in and became part of the experience. So I was billed as DJ Michelle Love - The Fetish Transsexual Performance Artist and I didn’t mind it. In fact, I enjoyed it. As I moved through my transition, past outward appearance, I started to deal with my emotions as a woman. I began to prefer being thought of as a DJ who happened to be female. It seemed to me that my genitals (and chromosomes) were less a part of what I wanted to do musically, and only a matter between me and who ever I might be intimate with. I still spin mainly for the fetish crowd. In fact, I’m trying to figure out how to work in a stripper pole into my act! Yet, I do it as a woman who is entertaining an audience and expressing herself. It’s no secret that I’m a transsexual, lots of people know. I just don’t wear it on my sleeve like I used to. I am no longer billed as a transsexual performance artist. Just DJ Michelle Love.


How did you get started as a DJ? What pointers can you give other aspiring DJ’s?

When I was 5 I got my first Beatles record and my head exploded! At a very young age music became my safe haven when I could not deal with my gender issues. I went to college and received a BA Music. I was a flute major! My life and career in music has taken many turns. For awhile I was a recording engineer and synthesizer programmer. I quickly learned how fickle the music business is. So I learned to change hats and stay open to changing opportunities. I became a producer, a drum tech, and a monitor engineer. I worked with a lot of great musical minds both in the studio and on the road. It became apparent to me that I would never be as talented as the people I worked with as a performing musician. I had more profound talents for technical “behind the scene” jobs. Still, I wanted to perform! So when DJ-ing with laptops and control surfaces popped up, I saw my opportunity. The rest is her-story! 

My advice to aspiring DJ’s?  stay in school and don’t do drugs! Lol! Seriously,  I don’t know what to say. These days everybody is a DJ. I saw someone DJ from their iPhone once. I mean, how do you compete with that? And make no mistake, the competition is fierce! Club owners and promoters are some of the most capricious and unscrupulous people on Earth! I’d say develop a thick skin. It helps if you have a little cash of your own to do some self promotion. Be creative and learn to think way outside the box. If you are really committed, then stick with it. Otherwise find something else to do that makes your heart sing!


As an artist who happens to be trans, do you think it helps or hurts the artist if they are out as trans?

That is a decision everyone has to make for themselves. While there are many artist who are out and proud and seem to be doing well, there are always repercussions to every decision. Find your own comfort level and find the conviction to walk your own path.


Can you tell us what you have coming up for you? Do you have any new work to be released?

I am working on my own CD right now. I have been in my “mad scientist laboratory” chopping up loops and beats and developing some new material for a new live show. It’s getting harder these days to be “original”. Sometimes I think between Lady GaGa and Deadmau5 it’s all been done. But I am determined and I think I’m on to something. My next horizon is somewhere between mash ups and remixing. Now, if I can just figure out what to wear !


Anything else you might want to say to the readers of Bodies Of Work?

I can be pretty opinionated about things. Anyone who has ever been to my Youtube, Facebook or website will tell you. I freely admit it. But don’t take me too seriously. I’m still figuring this out, too. One thing I have noticed is sometimes I meet another person who is a transsexual, and that will be the only thing we have in common. Other times, I meet someone trans and we have damn near everything in common. I think that has, more than anything else, driven me to the opinions I have now. I am a human being first. Everything else comes after that. The fact that some other people don’t see me that way is their problem.

Someone else said it best, so allow me to repost:
I am “out and proud” , I am a woman; I do not “identify as a woman.” My sex assigned at birth is not relevant to any conversation that I am a part of. My chromosomes are not relevant to any conversation that I am a part of. The shape of my crotch is not relevant to any conversation that I am a part of. If you say that I am transgender-identified, you are mistaken. If you say I am transsexual-identified, you are mistaken. If you think that every time you refer to me, you need to describe me as a trans woman, you’re mistaken.

I’m a lot of things. I’m iatrogenic, inter-sexed, multi racial and come from a mixed Judeo Christian background. I have brown eyes, and really good hearing! But if someone introduced me to you with any or all of those attributes you would probably find that a little odd. So why should the fact that I’m a transsexual be any different? This is the evolution my life has taken. It’s not a denial. It’s a realization. And it’s my journey, which (goddess willing) is far from over! Thanks for letting share it with you.

Check out a mix by DJ Michelle Love HERE

A Short Interview With Artist Simon Croft

Simon Croft is a London based trans-man and visual artist with a particular interest in the rapidly evolving artistic expressions of the FtM trans experience and how they contribute to trans community and culture. He has exhibited in LGBT shows both in the UK and US, and also occasionally writes, curates and provides publicity images for other trans events.

NUTS by Simon Croft

 What brought you to begin work as a fine artist?

Transition, really.  I’d done nothing artistic since I was about 15.  Looking back at what I was doing artistically at that time, I was repeatedly drawing myself as a boy though I didn’t recognize it at the time!  Then I just stopped doing anything art based – I guess my art was telling me things I wasn’t ready to deal with.  I started making work again at around the time I transitioned about 13 years ago, to try and re-engage with my creativity and it was only five or six years after that, that I started explicitly working with trans themes and deliberately drawing on my trans experiences.

 

Side view - NUTS by Simon Croft 

Are you often, if ever, pigeonholed as a “trans artist”? If you are, does this bother you?

I describe myself that way.  I work with and from my trans experiences so in reality it’s a fair description.  I want to make work that speaks to other trans people; I’d like it to be seen more widely but I don’t know how realistic that is, at least for now.  I’m conscious that as and when I move on from working thematically in this way, I could be stuck with a label I don’t want, but at the moment it doesn’t bother me.  Ask me again in 5 years time, if I’m trying to paint landscapes or something!

 

HAIRSHIRT by Simon Croft 

 Being a trans identified person, how does this identity lend itself to being an artist?

Transition is a creative act – as are most other ways of trans-living.  Art is a good way to reflect on it.  It gives you something to say, a different perspective from most people; we see things many people never get to see and that’s quite a privilege. 

I also feel that living long term, it’s important to have a space to consider and value my transness, which will always be part of me – that’s very important to me. 

As well as creativity, transition involves risk – if you transition physically, you don’t know what’s really going to happen.  Changes to physical appearance, how you think and feel, relationships – it’s just not certain.  Pretty much everything is back in the melting pot.  At a certain point I just had to trust myself to handle whatever would come along when I made the choice to transition. 

I see taking risks and trusting yourself as part of making good art too.  Some of the ways I work parallel the transition process; I’ll set a process up – like dripping ink onto a cardboard house - and let it run and see what I get at the end.

 

Close up HAIRSHIRT by Simon Croft 

What words would you give to those out there who are interested in beginning their careers as artists?

That’s a difficult one! 

Find a way of working that fits with you and your life – whether that’s a little everyday or setting aside intensive bursts of time, or some other way – but make sure you deliberately set aside time and actually make work.

Take a look at the constraints you have to work with – usually time and space and funds - how can you make them work for you as opposed to blocking you?

Get your work seen – submit to shows and publications etc and get some feedback.

Be organized.  Making good art isn’t enough – you’ve got to have a whole load of other skills like self-promotion, negotiation (learn how to read a contract), fund-raising, admin (it’s no good missing the shipping deadline for a show).  As an artist starting out you have to do most things for yourself because you probably won’t be in a position to pay anyone else to do them for you, and that is likely to mean self-discipline to do the bits you don’t naturally take to.  Take a deep breath and don’t leave them to the last minute.

Probably the best tip is to read Michael Atavar’s book – ‘How to be an Artist’.  Someone suggested it to me and I revisit it quite often.

 Good luck, and don’t forget to have fun!! 

 

Schmekel Interview

Morty: Hey! Okay, my first question is how long have each of you been playing your instruments?

Ricky: I started playing keyboard and piano when I was 12, 13ish. I’m 26.
 
Simcha: I started playing the drums at age nine, so I’ve played for almost 16 years.
 
Lucian: I started playing guitar when I was ten. I’m 29.
 
Nogga: I started playing guitar when I was 8 and then bass when I was 14. Then I didn’t play anything for ten years and then I joined this band.

Morty: You are all very seasoned musicians, very cool. Okay, so I was reading the article that just came out in the New York Times, congratulations on that!

ALL: Thank you!

Morty: I really love when a larger publication prints something about trans art related stuff. Was it a dream to get in the NYT?

Lucian: My real dream is to be on the Daily Show, but yeah, of course I am super thrilled to be in the New York Times.

Morty: Has anything occurred after the New York Times article came out?

Ricky: Yeah, we got an email from Rabbi Steve Greenberg inviting us to perform at a retreat. That’s pretty big.

Morty: Wait, should I know this Rabbi? Is he big cheese?

Simcha: He is the Rabbi in the movie Trembling Before God. He is the first openly gay Orthodox Rabbi who is in that movie.

Morty: And he has a retreat?
 
Lucian: Well, so he emailed us saying “Hey, we’re looking for a fun show for this Orthodox retreat,” and he asked for a demo of our music and I emailed him a song of ours called “I’m Sorry It’s Yom Kippur,” which has lyrics about all these really appalling things that we are atoning for. Well, not really appalling. Like leaving your dildos in the sink and things like that. And so far he hasn’t written back.

Morty: If he read the NYT article then he had to be aware of what your songs are about!

Lucian: Yeah.
 
Simcha: Oh, I didn’t realize we hadn’t heard back…
 
Morty: Perhaps he is mulling it over right now.

Lucian: I mean, he has to know, we’re called Schmekel, so….[Ed note: Schmekel means little penis.]

Morty: Well, so, I’m curious. Did this band really start as a purely fun thing?
 
Lucian: Yeah, it legitimately did start as a joke. The three of us went over to Ricky’s house and this is before I even knew Simcha, and we just wrote “Pharoah/ Moses Slash,” which is about Pharoah and Moses having crazy anal. Then Ricky went to teach a piano student, but before he left…

Ricky: Yeah, I said “You know what rhymes with oil? Mohel!”  And walked out and then you all wrote “The Mohel Song.” 

Lucian: Its true. “The Mohel Song” is about a trans Jew who starts T and his dick starts growing, and he realizes he has a foreskin and doesn’t know what to do.

Morty: Yeah, I saw you perform that on a Youtube video. I loved it! Even though these songs are hilarious they are also, for lack of better word, poignant.

Simcha: I think Lucian and I have talked about employing humor to address serious subjects and that he feels really comfortable doing that kind of thing. That’s kind of like, our ethos, that its more effective to employ humor to reach an audience to get them to the kinda harder issues, than using a more serious strategy. When people are laughing, they are open, their hearts are open. So, they’ll be more receptive to paying attention to what they are laughing along to.

Lucian: Also, at the very beginning of the band, it was all very silly. Like “Pharoah/Moses Slash” is a really ridiculous song. The only thing that is substantive in that song is a part about BP spilling oil into the Nile. There is nothing real in that song.  But then after we started writing more we got more interested in looking at serious subjects and then finding ways of making them funny and making them accessible.

Nogga: We don’t just use humor to open up to other people, but its kinda like…but for me personally its also about dealing with personal issues. We write a lot about our own experience and I think that’s what really helps us speak to people. We’re not trying to write songs about every Jewish trans person.

Lucian: No!
 
 
Nogga: We are writing from our own experience and its really therapeutic. We’re making art about these things that we can examine…and we’re a band that’s very much like a family. We process together. I have a primary relationship and that relationship is with my band, and that’s where I do most of my processing and communication.  When I have issues, the first people I talk to are my band mates. Like when I was really upset about the guy who couldn’t suck my dick because I’m a transguy and he doesn’t want to have “straight sex,” you know? Its just very therapeutic and I constantly tell Lucian “you’re writing my life when you write these songs!” I mean, this stuff actually happens.

Lucian: A lot of songs are about real things, for sure.

Morty: I totally sensed that, you feel this is real experience.

Lucian: Yes, the Craigslist songs are real. They are about Ricky.

Morty: Do you all take part in the writing of the songs?

Ricky: Lucian is a lyric writing machine. We write a lot of music together. I wrote “Fondle the TSA Agent.” “Sex With Pans” we wrote together. We just wrote our first collaborative song.

Lucian: On the road!

Ricky: Yeah, and it’s about chest binging and its called

Lucian, Nogga, Ricky: THE BINDING OF ISSAC!

Morty: Very cool! So, you would need to know a bit about Jewish history to understand the song. It may go over people’s heads.

Lucian: When we do college shows we print out a glossary of Jewish and Queer terminology. It has a little J for Jewish and a Q for Queer.

Ricky: And that glossary keeps getting longer…

Lucian: We hand it out at the college shows and have people look it over before we start playing. Then people can yell out their favorite words. And they get to keep it.
 
Morty: Which just segued into my next question. As trans artists some of us, not all, do a lot of educating. So, you make it a part of your art, to do the educating?

Ricky: A lot of people we’ve performed to, where there weren’t a lot of trans people, are a lot more open to trans stuff. And I think if we talked to them in any other way, of like, say, sitting down and talking about their cis privilege or what have you, they’d be like no, fuck that. But if it’s a joke they are with us.

Lucian: I really like doing it in this context because when I was first finding out about trans stuff and trans vocabulary and language about 10 years ago, I actually hated workshops on gender and was always super uncomfortable. They always felt very preachy and I always felt alienated and awkward, and I think a lot of people who are turned off by seriousness, that don’t like to feel like they are being lectured, it makes the subject more accessible to those people.

Ricky: I think we’ve gotten a lot of attention from people we otherwise wouldn’t get to know. Like, the people at a lot of our shows, from the college shows to the show we did at the Jewish Community Center. Many of those people probably didn’t have a lot of trans friends and some were just progressive Jewish folks who weren’t queer. So, we wouldn’t really know them but there they are at our show.

Lucian: A lot of cis gay men who wouldn’t be interested in trans stuff are really receptive to our band. I have a personal investment in that.

Ricky: Some dude bros came up to us at a show and said “Are you dudes really dudes!” And then they started quoting our lyrics. “Suck my matzoh balls! That’s funny!”

Nogga: Yeah, they asked me if we were all really trans.

Lucian: They were laughing their asses off!  Also, a lot of Jews who aren’t queer love us. Even older Jewish ladies who do not know anything about the Brooklyn queer community have seen our show have come up to us and said how much they loved us.

Morty: I love that!

Lucian: Yeah, it’s a lot of fun.

Morty: How much about being trans influences you? I mean, is being trans a big impetus for your artistic expression? And I’m including any art you do beyond being in the band.

Lucian: For myself, I would definitely be writing songs and making music if I weren’t trans, but I don’t know if I would still be doing it if I weren’t queer, if that makes sense. Being queer is a big part of my urgency to write the lyrics I write, but it wouldn’t need to center around transness. I think I would have to be queer in order to feel like I have something to say.

Simcha: I agree, being queer and then specifically genderqueer and then being Jewish and then all these identities together are what drive me to want to assert myself. I feel like I occupy a really ambiguous space and I don’t think a lot of people see me the way I would like them to see me, so that is a big impetus for me to assert my presence. So that I’m not erased. I think that is what drives me to create art.

Ricky: I don’t think that is as true for me. I had an awareness of myself as an artist before I had an awareness of myself as queer. And I think if I wasn’t trans and I wasn’t queer I would still be a musician, I’d probably just be singing about something else.

Lucian: I wrote songs when I was young, like 12, but they just weren’t very good. They were too emotionally angsty, arrhhhhh! songs. I just think, yeah, maybe I’d be writing songs but they wouldn’t be relevant to many people. I think being queer gives my songs relevance to people outside of myself.

Nogga: Well, I’ve been a photographer for a long time. I was a professional photographer for nearly ten years. I got my first camera when I was 8 years old. I wanted to do journalism and art and travel around the world taking photos and that had nothing to do with being queer. I think I’ve been able to focus the work I’m doing now because of my trans experience. I make art based on my experience and what I’m feeling. I’m sure if I wasn’t trans or queer I’d be making art about something else.

Morty: What would you say to a trans or gender variant artist who wants to make art but is feeling insecure about putting their stuff out there?

Ricky: There are people who want to hear what you have to say, so, fucking do it.

Lucian: You have to make bad art before you make anything good, so practice making bad art. Don’t pass judgement on it for a while and just create things.

Ricky: Also, the world needs to hear you. The world needs more representation from people like us.

Nogga: I think the most important thing for me personally is to make sure I really broke through and found out what my medium was, and where my strongest energy came from was when I was not making art to please other people. So, just to make a point to myself first, to write, draw, do photography. I found that when I was making a project for myself and it affected me it had a much greater impact on people around me. I had art teachers say, “I get your concept but why do you have to be so flamboyant in this way, or push this issue, or why do you have to push this envelope.” And I would say, “I’m not pushing anybody’s envelope but my own.”

Photo By Melody Mudd
Simcha: I had dreams of being a rockstar from age 12 until about age 18. I went to Portland to pursue that and I totally bombed my dreams after I realized how the real world worked. I never expected to be able to return to playing drums. I stopped playing drums at age 18 pretty much until I started in this band. What is happening now is exactly what I wanted when I was 12. So, if you have the passion, which I did, I had a lot of humps to get over. Mainly it was about people’s musical passion versus my own. I was always told I was taking things way too seriously, that I had too much ambition. I was really driven, but then I let it go, and it’s funny because once you let go of something and decide that you don’t really need it is when it comes and is given to you.

Lucian: Also, making something very specific is really much more interesting for people than making something general that will try to appeal to everyone. When you try to encapsulate the essential trans or queer experience, it usually comes off as really forced or didactic or presumptuous or just not real. So, do your best to hone in on your own experience and it will probably make your art much more interesting.

Morty: Do you call yourself a “trans / gq artist” or just an artist?

Simcha: Yeah, I think that what people are finding compelling is that we are identity whores, which I am using ironically and as a joke, and kind of building our music off of that. Which I think is fine because there aren’t enough voices out there to represent. I respect artists and writers who just happen to be trans but aren’t working from the angle of being trans or genderqueer, but I do still think there is a need for artists who are using their identities as part of their art.

Nogga: From a personal standpoint I can identify as both depending on the art I am working on. Sometimes I am a trans artist and other times I am just an artist who is trans talking about things like love and my father or just being a sad emo person. Those times it’s completely genderless. In this band I am a trans artist and outside the band, the art I do has to do with working out my inner emotional battles.

Ricky:  Some stuff I write is directly about being trans. Other stuff I write is affected by being trans but is about something else and sometimes I can write stuff where the person listening would never know I’m trans but would find out more about my personality and my politics.

Lucian: I’m probably more of a trans artist than I am a trans anything else. For example, I’m not a trans ESL teacher, it just doesn’t ever come into play.  The most I really think about being trans is when I am writing songs. Schmekel is where most of my artistic energy is going right now. So, when I am working on my music in this band, I am thinking about my identity as trans, but in my day to day life I don’t really think about the fact that I’m trans.

Morty: So you have a new album out now! Tell me more!

Lucian: Yes, it is officially out! This is our first full length release. It’s called “Queers On Rye.” It is produced independently with the help of Riot Grrrl, Ink. It has 11 songs.

Here is the track list:
1. I’m Sorry, It’s Yom Kippur
2. Shark Attack
3. Tranny Chaser
4. I’ll Be Your Maccabee
5. Pharoah/Moses Slash
6. Super Transsexual Brothers
7. I <3 Str8 Men (Butt Not 4 Sex)
8. The Mohel Song
9. Fondle the TSA Agent
10. Sex With Pans
11. Surgical Drains

You can buy it on our website for ten dollars. We are keeping it cheap and not going to sell out ever!

Morty: Really? So, if some major label called you up right now to sign you, you’d say no?

All: Yeah, we’d say no!

Lucian: For a lot of reasons. For one, Ricky has a Bachelors degree in studio recording and can do it all. So, we don’t need someone else to record us. We also know how much artists get screwed over by those deals and don’t end up making much profit.

Ricky: It’s a sketchy business all together.

Simcha: Yeah, for sure.

Lucian: Also, we get to control the environmental stuff and whether the people we work with are unionized, so the political control is important too.

Nogga: If we work independently, we can stick closer to our politics and keep things accessible and just really concentrate on the things we want to stand by. Being an independendent artist facilitates that a lot better.

Morty: If any trans, queer, genderqueer or gender variant people have questions for you can they get in touch with you?

Ricky: Yes! They can get in touch through our website.

Morty: You answer ALL your emails?

Lucian: Yes, we answer them all.

Nogga: We have a system.

Lucian: Also, whenever we get any angry, mean emails we always reply with one sentence in Yiddish that means “may you grow in the ground like an onion.”
Morty: Do you get a lot of negative feedback?

Ricky: We did get one person that asked us why we can’t be trans goys [Yiddish term for a non-Jewish person]

Lucian: Yeah we also got someone who left a nasty message on our Youtube channel saying that we weren’t real Jews and that if we wanted to be transgender we should “renounce our Jew”.

Nogga: And if they knew anything about Judaism, they’d know you can never leave the club. Once a Jew always a Jew. Done and done!

Lucian: I actually am a bit surprised that we haven’t gotten more negativity. I was surprised about the particular people who are really positive about our band.

Nogga: We’ve gotten a really positive reception from sometimes the weirdest places, like those 3 dude bros who came to our show! My mom’s friends are calling my mom up and asking “Did you know Nogga and his friends are in the New York Times?!”

Morty: Does it kinda feel like the ball is really rolling with the extra attention from the New York Times..

Lucian: It’s showbiz!

Morty: Yeah! Like, now we’re hitting the big time!

Lucian: Sure, but we’re nerdy.

Ricky: And Jewish.

Lucian: And don’t know exactly how to take the extra attention.

Nogga: What’s crazy is someone in South New Jersey ordered 6 copies of our album!

Morty: Whoa! Yeah! Well, the album would make a perfect Hannukah gift.

All: Yes! It would!

Morty: So, what’s the future for Schmekel?

Lucian: We have already begun to write more songs.

Morty: When are coming to the West Coast?

Lucian: We are obscure famous, but we are not rich, so a university or organization needs to help bring us out there.

Morty: I might be able to help out. Let’s discuss. It was so nice to speak with you all!

All: We had a great time! Thanks for the interview!

Go to the SCHEMEKEL WEBSITE NOW!! www.transjews.com

Born This Way: Artistic photography collaboration between 
 Thomas McMillen-Oakley and Isaac Finn Dunigan
                     
Tom says: I will readily admit that I am down with the LGB part of LGBT (Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgendered) but I don’t really understand the T part. It wasn’t until a few years ago that I met a person in transition from male to female that I understood the link between gender and sexuality. As a high school art teacher, me and the gym, music, and home ec teachers were always lumped together as the “Others” during our staff retreat days. We didn’t fit in with the English, Science, or Math folks, so we had our own little gaggle of academia. I kind of felt that the Transgendered communities were the “Others” on our staff as we really didn’t know where to put them or how to deal with them in our compartmentalized scheme of things in the LGB part of our world. “Okay, Angry Dykes over there, Bears, stay away from the Twinks, Club Kids and Lipstick Lesbians over there… Drag Queens, you’re over there, but leave the Bears alone.” You get my drift.        I have known since a very early age that I was Gay. I preferred the company of men at a romantic level, but never hid from the fact that I was more comfortable around women than men. My best friend in high school was a female, but my romantic interest during that time was a male. I have never entertained the notion of changing my gender, as I am comfortable who I am, and, for the record, I really like my penis.                                                                                    However, I know many people who have struggled with their gender identity since their early years and I can feel their pain. We are often told as LGBT folks that we can change and we can get over our issues of sexuality and change, but for me, I was born this way. I don’t ever recall being straight, or having a watershed moment of changing from straight to gay. Lady Gaga’s recent single “Born this Way” talks about this very issue in a danceable, pop music kind of way and I hate myself a little bit for referencing this pop twaddle, but the core issue is we don’t need to change, we’re born the way we are, and what we have is ours and if we want to change we can. But if we don’t, it’s your issue, not ours.
Isaac says: A few weeks ago I was approached by Tom to do an art collaboration. I had a sneaking suspicion that he wanted to take nude photographs. I was terrified, intrigue, excited, and curious. After talking with him and finding out that this is exactly what he wanted I instantly said yes. I loved the concept and thought it would be a great opportunity for me to work through some of my body image issues that I have been dealing with the majority of my life. A week later I found myself in front of a man getting my whole body photographed.I was born Amanda Marie Dunigan, and for 27 years I lived that way. I always hated my body and did everything I could possibly do to hide me female anatomy. When I was young and on vacations, I would pretend to be a boy around other children. Growing up was painful. Going through puberty it became harder to hide and pretend, which forced me into a very reclusive world. I would create stories in my head about a world where I possessed a male body. Where I was a carpenter that created beautiful wooden sculptures and when I came home I had a beautiful wife and family. A world where I was a man.At 27 years old, I decided to become that man. I am Isaac Finn Dunigan and I am a 32 year old man who is creating art with a beautiful wife and an adopted daughter. I thought the world in my head would never be and no one would ever love the body that is a contradiction to who I am. I have been proven wrong and I am so happy that I was.The struggle with my body remains but is also a lot easier when someone looks past that and is able to see what is so much bigger, the person that exists inside. I made the decision to do this collaboration so that I could see myself as a whole being. So I could find the acceptance of self. I believe it has started a process of healing for me that is long overdue. I have realized that I can see myself however I choose. I am a proud yet gentle man and wouldn’t want it any other way.Yea, we&#8217;re wordy.&#160;: )
LINK http://bodiesofworkmag.com/post/17265680325/mcmillenanddunigan

Born This Way: Artistic photography collaboration between 

 Thomas McMillen-Oakley and Isaac Finn Dunigan

                    

Tom says: 
I will readily admit that I am down with the LGB part of LGBT (Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgendered) but I don’t really understand the T part. It wasn’t until a few years ago that I met a person in transition from male to female that I understood the link between gender and sexuality. As a high school art teacher, me and the gym, music, and home ec teachers were always lumped together as the “Others” during our staff retreat days. We didn’t fit in with the English, Science, or Math folks, so we had our own little gaggle of academia. I kind of felt that the Transgendered communities were the “Others” on our staff as we really didn’t know where to put them or how to deal with them in our compartmentalized scheme of things in the LGB part of our world. “Okay, Angry Dykes over there, Bears, stay away from the Twinks, Club Kids and Lipstick Lesbians over there… Drag Queens, you’re over there, but leave the Bears alone.” You get my drift.        I have known since a very early age that I was Gay. I preferred the company of men at a romantic level, but never hid from the fact that I was more comfortable around women than men. My best friend in high school was a female, but my romantic interest during that time was a male. I have never entertained the notion of changing my gender, as I am comfortable who I am, and, for the record, I really like my penis.                                                                                    However, I know many people who have struggled with their gender identity since their early years and I can feel their pain. We are often told as LGBT folks that we can change and we can get over our issues of sexuality and change, but for me, I was born this way. I don’t ever recall being straight, or having a watershed moment of changing from straight to gay. Lady Gaga’s recent single “Born this Way” talks about this very issue in a danceable, pop music kind of way and I hate myself a little bit for referencing this pop twaddle, but the core issue is we don’t need to change, we’re born the way we are, and what we have is ours and if we want to change we can. But if we don’t, it’s your issue, not ours.


Isaac says: 
A few weeks ago I was approached by Tom to do an art collaboration. I had a sneaking suspicion that he wanted to take nude photographs. I was terrified, intrigue, excited, and curious. After talking with him and finding out that this is exactly what he wanted I instantly said yes. I loved the concept and thought it would be a great opportunity for me to work through some of my body image issues that I have been dealing with the majority of my life. A week later I found myself in front of a man getting my whole body photographed.
I was born Amanda Marie Dunigan, and for 27 years I lived that way. I always hated my body and did everything I could possibly do to hide me female anatomy. When I was young and on vacations, I would pretend to be a boy around other children. Growing up was painful. Going through puberty it became harder to hide and pretend, which forced me into a very reclusive world. I would create stories in my head about a world where I possessed a male body. Where I was a carpenter that created beautiful wooden sculptures and when I came home I had a beautiful wife and family. A world where I was a man.
At 27 years old, I decided to become that man. I am Isaac Finn Dunigan and I am a 32 year old man who is creating art with a beautiful wife and an adopted daughter. I thought the world in my head would never be and no one would ever love the body that is a contradiction to who I am. I have been proven wrong and I am so happy that I was.
The struggle with my body remains but is also a lot easier when someone looks past that and is able to see what is so much bigger, the person that exists inside. I made the decision to do this collaboration so that I could see myself as a whole being. So I could find the acceptance of self. I believe it has started a process of healing for me that is long overdue. I have realized that I can see myself however I choose. I am a proud yet gentle man and wouldn’t want it any other way.

Yea, we’re wordy. : )

LINK http://bodiesofworkmag.com/post/17265680325/mcmillenanddunigan

The De-Gendered Pleasure Project

  by Chase Ryan Joynt

I propose an evolutionary and foundational shift in the way that we are currently thinking and talking about our genitals. My intention in this writing is to explode genital talk out of the many gendered cracks and crevices in which it is currently housed.  I want to re-contextualize current musings regarding our parts and in doing so, propose a necessary reclamation of self and a crucial quest for pleasure.

But how do we create a genital revolution when current social conversation regarding gendered genitalia exists solely to realign, repackage and rename us? When we are surrounded by musings about what we ‘should’ have, what we ‘don‘t’ have and what we ‘might’ have it becomes increasingly complicated to even find our truths let alone live them. We exist in a world where overly simplistic conclusions are made about our lives and our identities based solely on the detailing of our genitals … so if we are to have any chance of rewriting these gendered scripts, we need to create new ways of thinking.

Let’s look at the facts: we have penises, vaginas, sperm, eggs, testosterone and estrogen. Some of us own variations and amalgamations of these components and all of us carry (in addition to some chromosomes and DNA) an ultimately personalized combination of each. What is both comforting and simultaneously fracturing about the reality of these combinations is that even though we are dealing with very similar foundational parts, we remain unable to get past the variations and designs of our packaging. Boys have penises and girls have vaginas.

For the purposes of this conversation, I suggest that we attempt to strip the packaging and more specifically the marketing around gendered genitals and get back to talking about the basic parts. Should there be any confusion about the current state of gendered marketing around us, one needn’t look further than the pressure for ‘women’ to procreate and the celebration of a ‘man’s’ sizable birth given penis. If pleasure organs are the parts and gendered genitals are the package, we need to take everything out of the figuratively constricting box and redesign it completely. We need to embark upon a quest for pleasure and must not sacrifice and/or ignore it for the sake of more accurate branding. Risking inadequate sexual functioning based on aesthetics cannot be our welcome community standard. We need to put the pleasure back in our politics and keep the politics out of our pants for long enough to get what we want.

For those of us who identify as being “in transition”, re-packaging and branding our bodies can frequently become the focal point and measuring stick of success. It is not uncommon to spend so much time on our packaging that our physical parts become shelved indefinitely. This shelf life, and tendency to place embodied desires and needs on the backburner can no longer be the acceptable norm.

Throughout the process of transitioning we are so often pushing to get somewhere (that we aren’t) and to acquire something (that we lack). If we take a step back from this assertion we see two things: ‘we aren’t’ and ‘we lack’. An equation such as this, riddled with unclear goals and undeterminable acquisitions is inevitably going to lead us to disappointment. It is time to examine the place our genitals play in this process and to determine a course of action that allows our parts to play a participatory role in our lives rather than simply a marker of our gendered place.

But before we carve out new space for this genital reclamation, it is imperative that we examine how we arrived in this fractured and ultimately polarized place to begin with. It is no secret that we have traditionally been required to re-assimilate and/or assert interest in polarized gender in order to receive any health or medical care. Unintentionally, this access to care has caused a fracture within our community- we have those who have “passed” and those who have not, either by choice or circumstance. Some posit that the increased social acceptance experienced by some “passing” post-assignment trans folk is putting undue pressure on the rest of us to conform to normative types. Most often, any sort of conformity is perceived (by default) to reinforce everything we have been attempting to dismantle.

We must understand that this normative typecasting does not have to be reinforced from within our communities and that normativity is only being demanded by those medical and mental health professionals who lack the knowledge and language to understand and assist.

We must resist the urge to other within our own communities, as creating hierarchies of identity between us only further complicates the unpacking we need to do. We can’t address the fractures between our packages and our parts if we are trying to replicate normative sex structures and roles. After all, such a replication requires that we put our gender/sex back into the categories we often seek to reformulate.

We need to create space for those who want to modify their bodies while honoring those who do not. We need to privilege our pleasure over our parts. We must resist all attempts to prioritize one type of body over another and we must not do to each other what has historically been impressed upon us. I propose that we start thinking about our genitals the way we think about our taste buds.

On average, an adult has between 9,000-10,000 taste buds. Considering the fact that the clitoral glans have at least 8,000 nerve endings, in addition to the penis’ 4,000, this comparison is not outrageous. Like sex, taste is understood to be intrinsically linked to the other senses. I dare say that just as taste is a complicated fusion of smell, taste, touch, texture, and sight, so too is our sense of pleasure and arousal both genitally and beyond.

Our bodies’ physical reactions to taste are not unlike that of our collective genitals. We salivate in preparation for our mouths to taste our favorite food, most certainly not for the food we are told we must eat. Genitalia, like mouths, react when interested in what’s being served, not when forced to eat “the projected” “the assumed” or the “most digestible” fare.

Speaking of “the assumed”, it is common thought that some tastes must be developed over time, and that one must educate their palate in order to appreciate the finer details and more nuanced tastes (think: olives and blue cheese). What if we could think about genitals in these terms? What if our sexual selves can be developed carefully, using ingredients new and old, and recipes that do not replicate but rather create? What if we can rid ourselves of gendered genital assumptions and incorporate true desire and pleasure in their place?

This revolution cannot just include us, what if instead of teaching youth that boys have penises and girls have vaginas, we choose to talk about body function and self care? Understanding that the way you react to food and how you expose your children to it will shape their future reactions to them, why don’t we encourage new generations to explore their genitalia by letting them pick from the menu of tastes and flavors rather than forcing our pre-determined genders upon them.

What if our genitals could have no impact on our gender identity and/or sense of self? What if, like taste buds, we were able to attend to genitals as a strictly de-gendered pleasure project? We need to strip ourselves of our programmed gender inappropriateness and critically engage with what we want and perhaps more importantly how we want to go about getting it.  We need not resign ourselves to an irreparably disembodied sense of sexual self, we cannot remain fractured from our most intrinsic desires and we must not to go hungry forever.

 

Chase Ryan Joynt is a Toronto-based filmmaker, performer and writer. His latest film Everyday to Stay is showing at festivals throughout Canada, the US and internationally, and has recently been picked up for world-wide distribution with Oracle Releasing. You can find Chase’s most recent writing in the pages of Original Plumbing MagazineShameless Magazine and the anthology Letters For My Brothers. When not attempting to explain the aforementioned to his mother, Chase can be found pursuing a PhD in Cinema and Media Studies at York University in Toronto. 

His website is: www.chasejoynt.com