Tamás/Tanya Marquardt in Conversation
The Last Hour at SoMad, November 2024. Photo credit David B. Smith
Theresa Buchheister:
I always like to start with an introduction. Like, what do you think that people ought to know about you? To provide context for EVERYTHING to come.
Tamás/Tanya Marquardt:
Okay, okay. Wow, okay. So my name is Tanya, or Tamás, I go by they/them pronouns. I'm an artist in my forties. I don't know why I think that's important, but there's less of us as you go, and I think it's important to say, like, I'm an artist in my forties. I make art. I'm Magyar. I’m Canadian. I also recently found out I'm Scottish, which is a whole other thing that I don't know anything about, but I feel like it's important to say. I was born in Regina, Saskatchewan. My father was a traveling vacuum cleaner salesman, so I moved a ton. I was brought up by an addict and I became an addict, and now I've been sober for 12 years. Working class background. First person in my family to go to university. It wasn't an easy go but I was really obsessed with performance, and I loved being in front of people and getting attention. Basically. (pause)
Anyway, long story short, I did actually make it to university. And I got a degree. And I graduated with all this training, which feels oddly like it cycles in and out of people's paradigm. But I had all this physical theater training, Grotowski training, went to dance school, and then moved to NY in 2010 and have a degree in memoir. So I wrote a memoir in 2018 about being a runaway kid and a BDSM model when I was underage… like 16. And I guess all of that has really influenced who
I am now. Because I'm in my forties, I did not have words for what I was. People were always calling me ambiguous and bisexual. So thank goodness for the younger generation. I now realize that translates to like, you know, polyamorous and all these other things that have like a wider range of descriptors. And then, in the last few years, I've really connected with my Magyar ancestry. I used to write a lot about trauma, and I still am interested in trauma and identity and class. All those things are like influences, but it's been such a healing, reconnecting experience for me. And that has been wonderful. It's been really pleasurable to kind of come full circle and have a like a richer sense of myself, as a human being and an artist.
TB:
That is so much incredible context. And I'm also gonna link to your site.
(I did. See above. Lots of links to come, so check them all out.)
TM:
Yeah.
TB:
So folx can check out your memoir! Okay… so you give such great context and also start with - you're an artist in your forties, first and foremost (but after your pronouns, which is also nice (I use they/them, too, thanks!)), and that we have language for that now, because for a lot of people our age, the sort of search for identity took a very different form, because it was just like, what are the words? Like, none of the words worked, but certain combos got close. I think there's also this relationship to “midlife”. When you feel like you're different from the storied
midlife crises that afflict people in their forties you're like - “Well, I didn't have kids, and I didn't get married to someone when I was 18… I won't have a midlife crisis or sort of cyclical interest in things that happened 20 years ago.” And then you get here. And you're like… ooooh dang.
TM:
Fuck. Yeah, yeah, totally. Yeah. And it was also weird to come out and really realize that I was trans, at the same time that I hit middle age, which is when your body is really changing in a bunch of other ways, too. So it was like this double adolescent slash getting old that was really intense for me. And then also, realizing how little me, when I was 16, was hanging out in kink and BDSM clubs in Vancouver and I met trans femme people pretty young. I met people that were experimenting with all kinds of sex and gender and identity things, you know? It was a pretty subcultural place, but there were like no words around trans masculinity at all. I met “butchy” people. They were mostly the security guards or the bartenders, and they, you know, they looked great, and I liked hanging out with them, but I had to kind of stay a bit of a distance from them because I was underage, you know, so I had to like not get too close to them, because they were the people that would ask me for ID. And now, you know, the words that we had then are for some being reinvigorated or held close, but for some they are derogatory. But yeah, the words really shifted. And when I did come out, I’d sleep with anyone of consenting age, pretty much. It was really tough, because I had that biphobia or whatever. And I kind of just went back into the closet pretty quickly, because there was nothing around. And I had to get sober, too.
TB:
Yeah, it's impossible to sort of unravel those things from each other. When you're examining the life that you've lived up to this point, you know. That just made me remember the terrible phrase that was often uttered back in Kansas in the 90s/early 2000s - “Bi now, gay later.” So if you're if you were bi, or perhaps pan, if you were interested in sleeping with everyone, people were like, “Oh, you're just not-straight, you know. You're just going to admit that you're gay down the road or go back into the closet.”
TM:
It's been a whole journey.
TB:
Journeys are the thing. Like the journey of CREATURE. Tell me about where that started, like the first nugget of an idea.
TM:
So during the start of the pandemic, I had a friend with whom I would chat online. We're both Eastern European and we’d been exchanging for a while, just like around that experience and different feelings of queerness in relation to Eastern European life. And I was kind of just doing random Internet research - “What's Hungary? What's it like? Are there any gay people there?” I've known my grandfather my whole life, and I remember being on his farm… So I was reconnecting and I started looking at folk dance, randomly. I'm a dancer, so I guess there's that connection. But I was not in any way trying to make a piece or anything like that. I was also simultaneously going through this transition process, which is always ongoing. Then I found a video. It was really beautiful. It starts off with this Hungarian reporter. It's like a news show. And it's like Hungarian, Hungarian, Hungarian, and it's maybe in the seventies. And then it goes to this black screen. And this spotlight comes up, and the most beautiful man I had ever seen comes walking into the light, and he has this beautiful hat on with this big feather and a linen shirt that's like open. It had scooped arms. And he wore big leather boots that go all the way up his legs with these black pants on and I was like - “Hold up now, like what the fuck is?” He also had this beautiful mustache … he was so handsome and he started doing pretty much the hottest dance that I'd ever seen. It was the legényes which is Hungarian for the Lad’s Dance, and it was so masculine, but like so passionate and loving. And I thought - this is the kind of masculinity that I'm going for. I mean, I'm a they/them/wolf/unicorn thing. I don't consider myself a man or a woman, I'm somewhere in between. But at that point I was really interested in asking what does it mean when I say “masculine”? What is it even describing? And I was like - that's what it's describing. Because I'm not Brad Pitt… I know I'm not going for that. And all of a sudden my search for lineage and my search for space in terms of my gender transition became one thing.
In rehearsal for Creature. Screenshot taken by Tamás.
TB:
Ah yes, the pieces start coming together.
TM:
Yeah. I became doubly obsessed, and I began to try to figure out everything I could about this dance. I went on this deep dive which really hasn't abated, and after researching a ton on my own, I realized I could only go so far. So, I found these lessons online. It's this guy from Transylvania. He's short. He has this gigantic mustache. It's all in Hungarian. So I started learning it and I was like - “I want to make a piece about this. Obviously I'm making a piece about this.” And then I reached out to Miguel Gutierrez. I was like, I'll just get Miguel to direct me, and he was like - “Babe. I love you, but you're Hungarian. I'm not. You need to find Hungarians to do this.” At first I was nervous to look for Hungarians because I worried they would say - “You're from Saskatchewan.” But because of Miguel, I went on this circuitous search and I found these 3 queer dancers - gergö d. farkás, Bálazs Oláh, and Julcsi Vavra. And they teach the dances. AND they teach them in a queer way, so I started learning from them. They're doing amazing work. They've been shut down and really critiqued by the right and sometimes in scary ways, and they continue to do this work. Then I got a Residency, and I went there and started training with them in person. Right before that, I shared a work-in-progress at Brick Aux as part of Gestating Baby and it's gotten so much deeper and shifted and changed since then. It's ongoing. My plan is to go back to Hungary in November and keep integrating the dance.
TB:
Potentially interesting tangent, but was there anything like that handsome leather-booted man in the video that initially inspired you to want to be a performer?
(Here we go on a loooooong tangent that was truly impossible to transcribe, sort of as predicted, about an old tv show and childhood and many things, but we come back to an English teacher and the love of writing.)
TM:
For some reason I just knew writing and school was my way out. Like, I'm not getting pregnant. Those were the 2 options you had, right? You meet an older guy and you get pregnant or you try to get through school and graduate.
TB:
Yeah, it's almost like a Choose Your Own Adventure. But you're like - “Wait, these are the options? Ugh Okay, I will pick one and see what other doors open up to me. And hopefully they don’t all just eventually lead to the same place?”
(pause)
Speaking of paths and choices, what led to you doing Grotowski stuff in college? Were there musical theater kids, Neil Simon kids and Grotowski kids? Was it something to do with your Eastern European roots?
TM:
Well, I always thought I was going to be a Shakespearean actor because that is what they gave you, the only plays that I read. So I thought, I'm going to be a Shakespearean actor. And then I tried out at all these Shakespeare places. Maybe it's changed now, but I think they took one look at me, and they were like, no, you're not going to be a Shakespearean actor. I was like 6 foot tall with piercings. Maybe it's changed now, I don't know… So I got into this one community college, and it was good and stuff. But I was like - “I want to be challenged more. I want more. I just want to go deeper.” And so I tried out at this school called Simon Fraser University, which is in Vancouver. And honestly, I just wanted to get into a deeper practice, and I had no idea what they were teaching or anything. It's the same as when I moved here. I had no idea what the memoir program at Hunter College was about. I just was like, I just have this desire, this need, to learn more. So, I got in and then they started teaching me Grotowski, which immediately appealed to me. The hard work. We dedicated ourselves fully and it doesn't matter if we're training on the cement floor. I was like - this is right in my wheelhouse.
TB:
It's fascinating because so often it goes back to the search when you're like - “I don't know. I'll try this door. Oh, that thing or that thing…” for whatever reason it's like, even before you have established the ways that you process or understand things that are either for you or not for you, you can still sort of say - “I think, maybe, that.”
TM:
Yeah or looking forward to look back, I wonder what will we think when we're 83? When it feels like it all makes sense.
TB:
You know what's funny? My last question for this interview is asking you to look back ten years and forwards ten years and I wrote down that I will make a Google Calendar entry for 2035 to check in with you. I love doing that. So, I guess I should make another entry for when we are in our 80s. 2065 or so.
TM:
Wow! Let's definitely text each other. I'd love that. I think that's great. I'll be here hopefully.
TB:
I'll probably be dead. But you'll get the Google Cal reminder, and then you'll have to try to connect with me.
TM:
I can't wait.
TB:
I will mail you some of my hair or something, so that you have a better chance at getting ahold of me.
TM:
Well, I am a Scorpio, so if you mail me some of your hair, I'm gonna mail you some of my hair back, baby.
TB:
Of course! That Scorpio context would have also been really helpful in your introduction. But now we know.
TM:
What are you?
TB: Libra.
TM:
You're a Libra. Oh, my mother is a Libra, and one of my partners is a Libra. Libras are great.
TB:
I didn't think much of Libras when I was younger. I really wanted to be a Scorpio, because all the cool people I knew were Scorpios, and I was like - Oh, I guess I'm just screwed for life because I wasn't born in the right month.
(Then when talk about astrology for a good while lol)
But yeah, yeah, I love the astrological perspective. It encourages you to look back and look forward all the time. And I feel like that's part of CREATURE. And I guess the entirety of
being an artist who's in your forties, really. Speaking of, coming up, you have a presentation of CREATURE, and it's happening at Mabou Mines, which is awesome. I am linking, just in case any folx do not know about Mabou Mines. History is important! Also, there is a Lee Breuer piece (The Gospel at Colonus) happening at Little Island right now. Anyway, I am curious about the name of the festival, because it could be pronounced revenue (as in ticket revenue) or re-venue.
TM:
It's re-venue. I know because that’s what I said, too. But basically RE/VENUE is a conglomeration. I know it's The Tank and some other folx, and what they've done is they look for spaces that are empty, and then they approach the people that run them, and they're like - “Look, your space is going to be totally empty. Why don't you just give it for free to artists? And they can just show stuff, and then we'll do some sort of, you know, split arrangement, and it is a win-win.” And a lot of spaces have said yes. And so they approached Mabou Mines, and it was definitely a quick turnaround. But they have all these amazing shows, and it's all up now. So you can go and check out all of the different shows. It runs from July 23rd to the 4th of August. There are usually 2 shows a night, one at 6pm and one at 8pm, and mine's at 8pm on July 26th, which is a Saturday. I'm super excited. I love that space. I've worked with Mabou Mines before. And I just love everyone, JoAnne Akalaitus and Mallory Catlett and everyone. So it's been really great. Oh and I just saw DOLLHOUSE on video. I can send it to you.
TB:
That's so cool. I was just talking with someone recently about how exciting it can be to get something like that, because it's impossible to see everything that you wanted to see ever, you know? And I just read that Ain't No Mo’ is coming out as a book, which is incredible for many reasons, but especially because of its rudely short run on Broadway. I got to see it before the pandemic, and it was incredible, and I was so excited to see it on Broadway, and then it closed way too fast (fuck Broadway). But now there's a book! It's not the same as getting to be at the show, and everyone should go to shows as often as they can, especially if they live in a place like New York, where they have access…
TM:
Yeah.
Comic book stills from current comic-in-process called The Walkers, co-written with David B Smith and phantigrams.
TB:
But I think of the VHS tape of Reza Abdoh’s The Law of Remains I saw in college… and the book of the Alan Cumming Cabaret that I got in high school…
TM:
I love that. Yes yes. I got the DVD because I'm trying to do a contemporary version of A Doll's House. And so I was trying to find documentation of it. It's actually really hard to find…But I saw it recently and it's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. It's so amazing.
(Then we talk about other shows we would love to see video of and/or do covers of… and I admit that this is a whole other interview.)
TB:
So re-venue slash revenue (because I feel like revenue is part of it)...
TM:
It's got to be in there. I mean, obviously, yeah.
TB:
It is a thing that people should follow because the lineup is really fantastic. And people who have moved here since PS122 became PSNY maybe do not know the space.
(We pause for technical difficulties and then talk about technical difficulties for a long time lol)
This whole interview is sort of like different concentric circles, I guess. But because you brought up your collaborators that you connected with after reaching out to Miguel, you also mention (in the press release) Sándor Vay…
TM:
Ah a collaborator in a different way! Sándor Vay was born in 1859. Birth name was Sarolta, born into quite a bit of wealth, assigned female or whatever, but was raised as a boy child. That's the quote that I found, “raised as a boy child”, and there's a whole bunch of accounts of why that may have happened. My theory is that Sándor requested it and they provided space for that. So he became a writer and a journalist, and he moved to Budapest, as many queers do. He had many, many relationships with women. He was married. At one time he had a lot of lovers, he visited prostitutes. He loved women. Then he was married a second time to a woman named Marie, and he got himself into a little trouble gambling, and tried to borrow money from his then-father-in-law, who did a little detective work and discovered that his birth name was Sarolta. Stop me whenever you want.
TB:
Go on! It is fascinating!
TM:
Ok so there was this big trial. That happened, and everyone all over the world just like freaked out about this trial because he was a “deceiver”. You know, he had deceived Marie. So he was forced into an asylum and it was really intense. He's in the psychopathic sexuality book, which is this book that fortunately and unfortunately exists. And it's very judgmental, but also maybe not for the time. Anyway. That's how we have his story. And because he was wealthy, he got out of it and the marriage was annulled and he returned to writing after a brief stint as a coffee shop owner. And then he died. And after he died, we are left with these records of him. There's no formal pronouns in Hungarian, but they all refer to him as a man. He wrote these really beautiful stories that are like epistolaries, or, like made up archives of the rich people in Hungary, which is kind of an amazing thing. They were all based on real stories, and they were parts of his oeuvre, or whatever that were recommended for children to read by the Hungarian school of education.
He's just like a really fascinating character. He died in 1918. So it's just basically proof of Western gender ideology. Well, Karl Maria Kertbeny invented the word homosexual. He was Hungarian. He came up with the term. Then Count Sándor Vay.. it just proves that there are actually queer people everywhere. They've been everywhere. They'll continue to be everywhere.
TB:
That's so incredible.
Gyula Muskovics and me being Magyar vampire-like things in The Last Hour at SoMad, NYC. Photo credit Tamás Marquardt.
(Then we discuss Sándor Vay’s poetry and how none of it is translated and TM says they should write a book about him and I agree…)
So continuing with collaborators, zavé martohardjono is working with you!
TM:
Yes, zavé is working with me! They are the director, and then also Gyula Muskovics is the dramaturg. David B. Smith is the scenographer. And my friend from Canada, fellow Magyar queer Canadian, Jaye Kovach did the sound design. But yeah, working with zavé has been great. zavé went to BANFF with me and was born in Montreal. We had so much fun in Banff. Like the 2 of us. We knew each other, we were friends, obviously we were friends, but when you go to the mountains with somebody for 2 weeks, and there's like nowhere to go, and you end up at a gas station buying Canadian chocolate bars, that's when the real friendship starts. They're amazing. It's so beautiful to be in a studio with them. They're so creative and open. And also like they've done a lot of work with ancestral things in different ways, and it really helps me a lot.
TB:
You have such great collaborators on this one person show lol. Is there anything that has surprised you about this project since you started it?
TM:
Hm so probably 2 things. One.. I went to Hahood, which is a very small village in Hungary. I was surprised at how hard I committed, like, I've been to Hungary a bunch of times. I had gone through a bunch of archives but when I was like - “Okay, I'm going to learn this folk dance and I can't just be like - I'm Hungarian - you know what I mean? I’m visiting where my great grandfather immigrated from, where my grandfather's ancestors are from, visiting the graveyard…” I had some pretty profound experiences that changed me forever as a human being that I didn't expect… because every art piece does change me as a human being, but not like this. Like it was really deep in me. And the other thing, which is very strange and still sort of unfolding, is about my mother. My mother is this really amazing Hungarian woman. I had been sending her stuff and saying - “Hey, mom, look what I found! Isn't this cool?” And then one day she called me, and she was like - “I just want you to know that I'm glad that you're discovering all these things, but also we're half Scottish.”
TB:
That's interesting... And I'm also like, you know, in 10 years will there be elements of your Scottish heritage that have woven into this as well?
TM:
I feel like there's a Venn diagram, because I have been looking at Scottish things... like Alan Cumming is Scottish. He's fucking incredible, but I feel like like I'll look at Scottish history, and I'll be like - “How come I'm not more interested? I should be more interested in this…” Because it happened with the Hungary side, so shouldn't it happen with the Scottish side? So maybe it will happen at a certain point. But I have figured out there's sort of like a Venn diagram or like an overlay, and it has to do with blood sausage, violin music, and violent colonialist suppression. Maybe that is a lot of cultures… But I guess I haven't found the thing that's like the video of the man walking into the spotlight.
TB:
Speaking of lineage, and what we keep and what we don’t… Does this particular project and the way that you're working on it, or the way that you embody it, have any sort of direct lineage to your other performance projects of the past? I mean, you talk about being a dancer. You talk about memoir. So those are two that have come up so far that I would say are likely part of how you are approaching this project.
TM:
I think I was really shy for a long time to put myself in my work, so I would like bastardize things, but still put them in my pieces. And now I've just really embraced putting myself in my work for really specific reasons. It just feels really important that I should say - “That thing happened to me like, actually, that happened to me, a real person, not a character that is made-up, but like to me.” But that's just my own personal practice.
TB:
Is that hard for you, knowing that you are working on this but also performing it multiple times?
TM:
Yeah, yeah. Sometimes it can be emotionally trying but I think I've done enough therapy that I don't find myself reliving these things. Because it's an art piece, right? So it's structured. Sometimes people think that memoir or something that pulls from personal life doesn't have a structure but it has this rich and varied history and you can study it. It has technical things that people write PhDs about, you know? So, it does feel hard sometimes. Like, people approach me who’ve had similar experiences and are in different phases of their own processing around it all, and that can be tough sometimes, because I'm like - “Whoa… Like… Oh, I don't know you. I don't know how to hold space for your feelings right now.” But that's just part of it. Part of my own journey, of knowing where my boundaries are.
I like fiction and mythologies, but there's certain stories or certain things that happened to me that I feel like I should say - “This happened to me!” - so that people can go and know it happens.
TB:
Yeah, it feels almost like a responsibility. You know, we're constantly told that every story has already been told, but I'm always surprised at the number of stories I hear that I'd never heard before.
TM:
Have you read Body Work by Melissa Febos?
TB:
Nope. (So I look it up and it is linked above)
TM:
She tells a story about being at a conference with mostly femme people and someone saying - “I want to write a memoir about my story, my trauma.” There's 2 femme people on the panel, and then a cis guy, and he’s like - “Yeah, I think we've heard enough of those stories.” And then Melissa Febos was like - “I just want to take a poll. Who here has experienced any kind of trauma, sexual abuse, humiliation because of your gender?” You know, like listed all these things, and everybody put up their hand. And she says - “I will read every single one of your stories, fuck them and fuck this.” So I guess that's my response. It’s like - No, actually, every person has such a beautiful individual story, and we need to hear all the different aspects of it all… the different ways of telling stories, all the different, interspliced and completely separate ways. Because there's so many different ways to be a human being in the world… gender, class, immigration status, all these things. And then also, just different people. Just see the sunset in a different way, you know? I want to know about that. Like fuck, you. I very much resonate with that story.
TB:
That is actually a perfect segue to my next question. What do you like to experience as an audience member?
TM:
Oh, wow! There's so much art to see. I really go through phases. I really love all forms of art, from the most abstract thing to the most popular thing. It just depends. Right now. I'm obsessed with films. And all I want to do is watch really obscure films. I don't know why. I mean, it's still Hungarian, but I'm really into Béla Tarr films, for example. He makes these films that are like 7 hours long. I just think there's something about really experimental films. There's something about our attention spans being like taken away from us. You know, I feel like this is an activist practice to be like - “No, I'm going to watch a 7 hour film and I will expand my attention span in spite of everything.” But that's not really about what kind of art I like.
TB:
It is. I totally include all of the things like books and movies and theater and dance and music.
TM:
I really love seeing the thing that you curate. I loved seeing Nile Harris and Lena Engelstein and Lisa Fagan. I mean, it's like, first off, Nile just rides around in a circle on his bike for 5 minutes, and it's not even his bike. And we are watching him. And then he just kind of careens around on his phone reading these things, these thoughts and poems. And then Lena and Lisa come driving in... and then the sunset, as they were doing their piece. It was just like - What is happening? What's going on?
TB:
It was really magical. And I recently read a Substack response about it by Alessandra Gomez, who was like - “I'm just gonna start writing about the stuff that I'm seeing.” And I was like - “That's fantastic.” She looked up Spalding Gray after the performance and a bunch of other stuff Nile talked about, which added another dimension to the performance she witnessed. It is a really thoughtful response.
TM:
Also, Lena and Lisa really took the piss out of the gentrification of that neighborhood.
TB:
Yeah, the most frequent feedback that I got as a curator was - “You really got away with something by going first…”
TM:
Hahaha. Yah. I just love watching Nile perform. I think I could watch him wind a ball of yarn, and be like - you're great.
TB:
So, your vibe right now is films that challenge your attention span and performers that you would watch do just about anything.
TM:
Yeah. And then I listen to music from the 1980s, goth, and girl punk. So I'll listen to Hole. Right now I'm just like on repeat listening to The Cure’s The Funeral Party. I'll listen to it like 3 times in a row on repeat.
TB:
Are you working while you do this? Or gardening or biking?
TM:
I'm working out usually. But, if I'm writing. I listen to Liszt or Chopin or I like to write in silence, too. I also like Chappell Roan. And 1990s lesbian singers like Melissa Etheridge and k.d. lang. She was hot. I mean she's hot now, but she was hot. She's Canadian. She's from Alberta.
TB:
Oh!
TM:
And then, when you see her, when she's really young, like when she was in her twenties, she wears these like crazy cowboy skirts with cowboy shirts and cowboy hats. I recommend.
TB:
Fashion-wise I was always just like - “That's right. Those are good outfits.” And also hair. I had a lot of hair envy of k.d. lang in the nineties. And now.
TM:
And now, yeah, she's great.
TB:
Those are some good rabbit holes.
TM:
For people to go down.
TB: Okay, I am gonna ask three more things. At this point, the interview is already way too long. But good! Is there anything that you find art-wise, annoying, or unwatchable, or unlistenable? Because I always like to talk about things that people like. But then I also know that you have to not like something.
TM:
Okay. Yes.
(pause)
I find watching rape really awful.
TB:
Yup.
TM:
I can't watch violence like that happening to people, and sometimes people do violent things just to do something crazy and violent. I find that really tough. And yet I love talking about horror films … like there's so many horror filmmakers that are commenting on violence and there’s context for it.
TB:
Totally. That's probably a whole other essay or interview. Because I love horror movies. They are the greatest form of allegory that we have.
(Then we talk for the entire length of another interview about horror, 90s thrillers, shot-for-shot remakes, An Act of Killing, Mortal Kombat…)
Yeah, yep, okay. There are so so many spin off interviews that we're gonna have to do… But for now, I do have to cycle back to the question of whether you recall what you were doing 10 years ago in the summer of 2015? And what do you imagine you could be up to in the summer of 2035.
TM:
So 10 years ago… I was 2 years sober. I think I was still writing my book. I think it was around 2015 that I realized I was probably gonna live in New York for a long time. And that was a real change. And in 2035, if we're still around, if we're not mid trying to mitigate a climate crisis and
like figuring out how to use our bare hands to kill food… Okay, let's imagine in 10 years I would like to have published at least 2 more books. I would definitely want to still be making performance. I'm just a lifer I think. So maybe like making work and writing and loving my loves, loving all the things that I love, my family, my lovers, my friends, my colleagues. And doing more gardening, like actual food sovereignty. I'm really interested in food sovereignty right now, like sharing food with people. And also teaching. I do like teaching. I'm not putting in a pool anytime soon, I'll tell you that.
TB:
Oh, my God, if you have a pool in 10 years, I'm gonna cackle so hard.
TM:
You know, I think I'm one of those lucky people for better and worse. I’m living my own dream. But, I'd always love to be more successful. That'd be nice.
TB:
I also feel like that's sort of inevitable. That you will be more successful. Whatever the wibbly wobbly definition of successful may be. So! The very last question that we'll end on, because I feel like people have a lot to chew on here, is just a quick one… Is there anything coming up that's not your project that you'd want to shout out and let people know about?
TM:
Well, I do know that Aaron Landsman is showing in the same festival as me and I missed it at The Chocolate Factory, so I need to go! Oh! And very important - Jess Barbagallo has a show at The Brick - Cemetery Soup!! Produced by Adult Film! I'm going on August 6. And it has the best title because Jess lands titles like nobody's business.
TB:
I know I should just hire him to come up with titles for all the things I do, because I can't land a title to save my life. But yah, if you are in NY, you gotta go. It's like Nile and Lisa and Lena… anything they all do, I am there.
TM:
Anything just as long as I can afford it and I am in town. And even if I can’t afford it, I call Jess and ask if we can just figure it out because everything he does is so good. And Jess is very humble... But he is an incredible writer. He's an incredible performer, too. But he is SUCH a great writer.
I'm very inspired by Jess as a human and as a writer, and just like someone that lives in the world. And I wish he wouldn't be so humble because he's so amazing, and he should just get everything.
(pause)
But also I really admire his humility, too.
TB:
Yeah, I don't want him to change at all. But I also just want to make sure that he knows how great he is.
TM:
Exactly. That's exactly it.
TB:
I feel like this is gonna be the interview with the most hyperlinks to various things that people need to look up… but most important is CREATURE!
I wish I could be there because I like to see every iteration of a thing. I like to see how somebody grows with their art, so I sort of hate missing out, but I know that I won't miss out eternally. So, that is something.
TM:
Performing Creature at U500, Budapest Hungary. Photo credit Tamás Szabó Sipos
When Joy sends me the documentation, I'll send it to you, and you can see it because I actually know the dance now!
TB:
Oh, that's so cool! Yes, yes, and I feel like that's a running theme of this interview… just because you can't see the thing live doesn't mean you don't get to experience it. Which definitely means we must shout out the best videographer of live performance - Joy Burklund and ZANNI Productions! Hire her! That was the final shout out!
TM:
Theresa, you're such a dear, kind friend, and I'm so glad that we did this together.
TB:
Me too. I will see you next time I am in town.
TM:
Indeed.