To start, we’d love to delve into the origins of your creative practice! Were there any formative experiences or influences that propelled you into a career in the arts?
I remember going to the circus when I was about 8 years old and being completely mesmerised by the flying trapeze because the performers seemed like superheroes defying gravity! Around the same time, a Queensland Arts Council show toured my school and I remember thinking:, “I want to do that when I grow up!”
You’re both an accomplished writer and a performer – in what ways has being creatively versatile helped you explore ideas and converse with audiences through different types of storytelling?
As a writer, I always loved storytelling and playing with language, but I rarely saw plays that represented people like me, especially in a positive way. As a queer, trans actor trained in circus and physical theatre, I love creating work that questions limiting beliefs about gender, bodies and relationships. My plays aim to connect with audiences on multiple levels – word play for word nerds, bold physicality, heartfelt moments and lots of laughs!
We’d love some insight into the origins of Queer as Flux, which is heavily autobiographical. When did you first realise your personal story could become the foundation for a performance?
I’ve lived a life marked by some dramatic highs and a few near-death experiences, which explains why Queer as Flux is my fourth autobiographical one-person show! I’ve also worked as a therapist for 25 years, so I’ve witnessed the many ways people navigate transitions and challenges and I know that sharing stories – no matter how different they seem – reveal the common threads that connect us all and help us move forward.
You share some deeply personal experiences in the show. How do you navigate the vulnerability of regularly performing your own story live?
There’s a big difference between being forced into vulnerability – which is scary and disempowering – and choosing to be vulnerable, which is incredibly empowering. While I may appear vulnerable in the show, I’m actually performing from a place of scars rather than wounds. As a result, audience members often describe leaving with a renewed sense of agency, feeling more empowered in relation to their own vulnerabilities.
What did revisiting some of these pivotal life moments teach you about yourself?
I definitely live life fully! I’m someone who’s prepared to take risks, who knows what it means to be resilient – out of necessity, not always choice! – and who’s passionate about supporting others to live life fully too. I also discovered that, unlike the trapeze artists I admired as a kid, defying gravity isn’t sustainable. If I want those moments of flight, I also need to stay grounded.
There’s humour threaded through moments of real pain and reflection. How do you balance laughter and gravity when exploring trans and queer narratives?
I truly believe laughter is the best medicine. While Queer as Flux includes some painful moments from my life, my Drag Queen Fairy Godmother alter-ego, Polly Tickle, counters them with pithy political commentary, witty one-liners and plenty of cheeky repartee with the audience. Polly asks as a guide, helping create a sense of safety and allowing audiences to go through the gamut with me – laugh, cry and reflect – we do it together!
You’ve once again teamed up with long-term collaborator, director Leah Mercer, for the project. How would you describe your working partnership? In what ways do you complement and challenge each other?
You don’t work with someone for 35 years without sharing a lot of trust, patience and laughter. We’ve developed a shorthand where we can really push each other, try new things and always return to the central questions, “Is this moment authentic and are we telling the story in a way that best connects with the audience?”
As a trans-masculine artist working in Australia, what changes do you want to see in the arts industry to better support trans and non-binary performers?
I’d love to see the arts industry move beyond token representation towards genuine structural support – not only for performers, but also for creatives behind the scenes. Where we are invited to tell our own stories and are also cast in roles where our gender identity is secondary or irrelevant to the character. Ideally, the arts should lead the way for other industries by embracing the depth, nuance and curiosity that trans and non-binary people bring to our work – where our unique perspectives are recognised as strengths and assets.
What do you hope audiences – queer or otherwise – take away from Queer as Flux?
Our aim is to share a story grounded in honesty, courage and joy – one that validates audiences as they reflect on their own challenges and transformations. Feedback from LGBTQI+ folks often speaks to how deeply they connect with different aspects of my story and how affirmed they feel afterwards. The audience responses we’ve received around the country – regardless of how they identify – is that they’ve been taken on a roller-coaster of emotions but their hand was held the whole time!
You can catch Queer as Flux at Brisbane Powerhouse’s Underground Theatre as part of Melt Festival from November 6. Get your tickets here.