AN INTERVIEW WITH CANADA’S MOST FAMOUS TRANSSEXUAL
by Evan Vipond: Contributor [to Excalibur]
Nina Arsenault is commonly referred to as Canada’s most famous transsexual. Arsenault has two postgraduate degrees in theatre, one of which was completed at York University alongside her undergraduate degree. After quitting the theatre world to transition from man to woman and undergoing 60 cosemtic procedures, Arsenault has recently re-entered theatre as both playwright and performer. Her most recent play, The Silicone Diaries, will be produced by Buddies in Bad Times Theatre from Nov 14th to 21.
EVAN: Playwriting is about creating a story, while directing is about representing or interpreting someone else’s story. Which do you prefer, the role of the primary creator or the interpreter?
NINA: Primary creator at this point, absolutely. Because the thing is, where I am in my life, my identity and my history, there’s not a lot of stories like mine. It’s not like I can filter my experience through another writer’s words. I don’t really know any other writers [like me.]
E: Your recent theatre work has been autobiographical. do you see this as a continuing trend?
N: Yeah, definately. I just think that truth is stranger and more interesting than fiction. And I think that the way I live my life and who I am is pretty unique, so I might as well just keep going. I trust that my life is interesting, that my stories are interesting, so I will do that.
I think a lot of work I see about trans people is either documentary stuff, which is great, but that only satisfies in a certain way, and then a lot of it is really fake –like campy stories about trans people. So I want to explore aspects of my experience which aren’t necessarily “documentary” and that speaks to different sublime qualities in my life.
The things is, as a trans person, rarely do we ever get to tell our stories in the way we want to tell them. Even when there is someone doing a documentary about us, and there have been so many documentaries about us, it’s rarely us who’s putting it together. So it’s always someone else who’s constructing our narratives.
That’s somethng I like about autobiographies: that it’s my story and how I want it put together. But I’ve also read , mainly in books, autobiographical material about other trans women. Some of it I really like: some of them I have real problems with, so I want to be part of that conversation.
I feel like a big part of trans narratives has really pushed this idea of “i’m just a normal woman, and if I wasn’t born in a man’s body, I would be just like everyone else.” There’s this push to normalize trans identities and trans histories, and I want to be a part of that cobversation because I actually don’t think I’m normal. I don’t think that I’m a normal woman who was born in a male body. I think that cultural [zeitgeist] can’t begin to encompass the complexity of my experience.
I think that born-in-the-wrong-body idea was just something that was said along the way that was really good on talk shows, that can shine some sympathy on us and is something that we can say to doctors to get our sex changes, but I don’t actually think it’d true. I think it’s just this zeitgeist that has picked up momentum and people go along with it.
But in private, my rrans girlfriends aren’t like non-trans women. They’re not. They don’t talk about the same things. They don’t have the same jobs. They don’t have the same privileges either. They don’t have the same social status. They don’t have the same ideas about sex, men, love,marriage, children — they’re so different.
E: What is the importance of queer-trans theatre visibility?
N: Well, we don’t get to be on TV or in movies very much, and, when we are, it is usually non-trans people who are putting it together.
One that that I like in theatre, in my work, I can pretty much just do it by myself. Now with Silicone Diaries I have lots of other people like my dramaturge, my set designer –but it’s not like there is some person who has the money strings who can say, “No, you can’t say that. You can’t do that.”
LGBT identities are becoming more hetero-normative than ever. So that is something that makes me think that trans and queer voices are really important in theatre because theatre can be a place of resistance and difference, where those things are nurtured. But really, if you look around [Church Str], we are supposed to be in the queerest area of Toronto, but you and I are the only two queer people – visibly queer people – that I can see.
E: Do you consider your work and your art that of a trans-queer activist?
N: No, I do not, because I feel like as soon as I call myself an activist then [I'm restricted.]
Activist art is about social change, making people’s lives better [...] I do not want to have to put that constraint on my artistic expression. I want my artistic expression to really be this channel that comes through me, and I want to be able to say [what I want.]
I mean, I’ve said alot of things that people think are not [positive]. A lot of times people say, “Oh, you shouldn’t say that; that makes trans people look bad” or “You’re a really bad role model.”
I do not want to be telling my stories because I’m trying to do this social good. I am actually trying to create art and speak to the complexity of my experience. As soon as you are trying to always be a good person [you're restirtced.]
I think activism is great. I just don’t think I’m an activist. I want to be able to explore my dark side. I want to be able to talk about my selfishness. I want to be able to explore my narcissism, my vanity; that does not go well with activism.
I do not so much have a political agenda, a capital “P” political agenda, like that. And I think the art I like does not as well. I want dark and light interwoven in the work, and dark and light are interwoven in my work.
E: Your artistic work is well known within the queer community. Do you feel you’ve entered the mainstream? If so, in what way and what has been the result? How, if at all, is the reaction different from the distinct communities?
N: Well, I can not say I can generalize about the communities and their reactions. I think that everyone who comes up to me to talk about my work always has a different reaction and response.
A lot of times I am really surprised. I’m like, “You thought that? You thought that’s what it’s about?” or “It made you angry because of what?” Everyone is bringing their own stuff to the work. They bring their own history and their own viewpoint. I just can not believe some of the responses sometimes.
If there is one thing I can kind of generalize about, I do feel like a lot of times people who like my stuff are outsiders. They are people who do not fit in [...] I like that because I have always felt like that.
I think because I am trans a lot of people have asked me, “What are you doing for the community?” They almost demand that I be an activist, that I say good things about trans people in the media and that my work should be about getting sex-reassignment funding, convincing people that trans people are normal and pleading for parents to accept their trans kids more.
I believe in all those things, and I think you can make compelling art about those issues, but I do not choose what I make art about. That might sound like a cop out, but I do not pre-meditate what I make art about. I just get obsessed with an idea and I feel like I have to express it. And really what I am trying to do is get back to whatever that hunch or that idea or feeling in me is about in the most truthful way.
Imagine if trans people were only allowed to put out activist art. I see documentaries about us and I really see campy stuff about us, but who is exploring the complexities of trans identities in a really honest way without a political agenda? I think that is important work as well. I think that is artistic work that can nourish people’s souls and spirits, make them better people, but I do not consider it activism. I think it is a really great thing.
E: Is it important for queer art to enter mainstream space, or should it remain in opposition to mainstream? If queer does enter mainstream space, is it no longer queer?
N: I certainly do not have a problem moving my work into a mainstream space. And I think that if I did, it would still be queer, absolutely.
If Canadian Stage produced Silicone Diaries people would still be coming to see the same play. I also totally think it is okay for artists to sell out. and I hope I get the the opportunity to sell out big time, because I want the opportunity to make money. I deserve the venture, because a lot of times in politics you can make a lot of change working from the inside.
I don’t think that the only way to make complete change and to be totally queer is to be resistant and angry. I think you can create change working within the greater system of powers that you have.
Ellen DeGeneres has done a lot to combat homophobia being on network television. There is just no way around it. Even when she does not talk about it [...] people know she is a lesbian, and she is absolutely charming and personable. I think that creates a lot of change, and I do not think that work is either queer or not queer. I think it depends on who is viewing it and what they are doing with it. I think that there are often very queer elements in mainstream stuff as well.
E: In 100 years, what would you most like to be remembered for?
N: For being a trailblazer, for being a revolutionary, for being fabulous, for never giving up on beauty.