“Skin is misleading… in life, you only have your own skin… There is a mismatch in human relationships, because you never are what you have… I have the skin of an angel, but I am a jackal… the skin of a crocodile, but I am a puppy dog… the skin of a woman, but I am a man; I never have the skin of what I am. There is an exception to the rule, because I am never what I have.”

—from Eugenie Lemoine Luccioni’s “The Dress” as read before each of French artist Orlan’s seminal plastic surgery art performances

When Andy Warhol declared “I love plastic. I want to be plastic.” almost fifty years ago, he was honoring the true idol of his era. Warhol wasn’t being cheeky or ironic – he was getting spiritual. A substance of powerful polymorphic properties, at the time plastic was the perfect embodiment of malleability and transformability . A sleek and shiny entity that seemed indestructible, it was a paragon of immortality. Warhol rightfully recognized that plastic was a quintessential representation of mid-twentieth century ideals.

We now live in the age of silicone. These semi-inorganic polymeric compounds are even more mutable and closer to being eternal than plastic. Silicone has affected our daily lives in countless ways (hello lube) but perhaps its most profound impact has only begun to be felt. With this substance, we have been given the unparalelled ability to manifest our innermost desires on our external flesh. We can refashion the bodies that nature imposed on us to more closely fit our own terms. We can incarnate our own visions of perfection; become the literal personifications of our most profound fantasies; transform ourselves into avatars of our deepest interiors.

Much of the discourse around plastic surgery is based on a series of assumptions. On the one hand, defenders tell us that there is a schism in the way that we experience our identities – how we look on the outside is at odds with who we believe we authentically are inside – and these surgical interventions are justified because they satisfy some apparent ly profound need for coherence in our identities. On the other hand, detractors argue that we live in a world where one’s self-image is distorted through endless media refractions and these surgeries are turning us into reproductions of mediated versions of reality that have nothing to do with the real.

Coherence. Real. Words that come out of a model of identity that is constant and stable.

Like Warhol, Nina Arsenault (herself, in some ways, a Warholian creation) understands silicone. She has used this substance to raise the pursuit of the real fake to metaphysical levels. In doing so, she destabilizes the coherence and authenticity of identity. Like silicone itself, Nina creates a new paradigm of mutable identity: one that will not stick, that is likely to change, inconstant, variable. And magnificent. Tonight, she is a silicone goddess and you are in her white temple. In her presence, you can no longer tell where the artificial ends and the real begins; what is sacred and what is profane; what is constant and what is changing. And you embark on a journey where the imaginary merges with the physical to create the idealized landscape that is art.

Enjoy the show!

Brendan Healy
Artistic Director, Buddies in Bad Times Theatre

(published with the permission of the author)

(this is a monologue that I cut from the performance text of The Silicone Diaires. I performed this at The Saint John Theatre Company’s production of The Silicone Diaries in August 2008. At that point the play was in a first draft form and contained stories that were highlights of my physical transformation. The text has since been rewritten, and I think it is more personal and profound. But I wanted to share this monologue cause it was truly a blast performing it in New Brunswick.  I hope you enjoy it, and find it interesting.)

For years I’m taking pharmaceutical doses of female hormones and testosterone blockers. Little pills give me soft feminine skin, enough breast tissue to get breast implants. They get rid of body hair, help with getting rid of facial hair. They will generally keep me from masculinizing as I age. What transsexual woman wants to worry about getting hairier as she gets older? Ear hair after forty? Do you know what thoughts like that do to me? I want every little bit of femininity that hormone pills, my tiny dream-come-true pills can offer me, and I go to two or three doctors at a time to get as many prescriptions as I can. Cyclon 21: the birth control pill with estrogen for women who want to avoid getting pregnant. Estrace: estrogen made from plants given to menopausal women. Premarin: synthesized estrogen from Pregnant Mare Urine. Pre-mar-in. Little yellow pills. Proscar: a prostrate cancer drug that stops testosterone. Androcure: a drug sometimes forcibly prescribed to convicted pedaephiles to cure them of androgens (male sex hormones). Yes, I am subverting the medical system, but pharmaceutical companies don’t even make drugs for transsexuals. I have to convince doctors to give me other people’s hand-me-downs.

But popping these dolls comes at a cost. That’s what I started calling the pills. Dolls. Like from Valley of the Dolls. I am spending nearly five hundred dollars a month on them, and I feel like I am PMS-ing everyday of my life – mood swings, I’m irritable, I’m depressed. Also, my doctors warn me about the effect these medications can take on my liver and the chance, the small chance that I could develop a lethal blood clot. I won’t listen, not where beauty and femininity is concerned. I tell the doctor, “Keith, give me the fucking hormones. Give me the fucking hormones, Keith. If you have to put me in the coffin just make sure I’m wearing something low cut to show off my cleavage.” Eventually, Keith sends me to another doctor.

September 11th, 2001: The phone rings. It is my boyfriend at the time. I am waking up groggy, no idea that the twin towers are coming down. “Hello?” “This is the beginning of World War 3, baby, and the end of society as we know it. Woooooooooo-eee!” The first thought that races through my mind, I can’t even tell you how fast it goes through my brain: “My femininity is dependant on swallowing these little pills everyday.” Yes, there´s more…. »

(The following story originally appeared in Shinan Govani’s gossip column in the January 31st, 2006, issue of the National Post. Shinan was the first to break the story of my Crying Game-style collision with former Motley Crue drummer and reality TV star Tommy Lee. I will finally be telling my full version of the events of that night in the upcoming production of The Silicone Diaries, Buddies in Bad Times Theatre, Nov 14-21, 416-975-8555 for tickets. MY SIDE OF THE STORY ISN’T WHAT YOU’RE EXPECTING…)

If she talks like a woman, but walks like a man …

Is Tommy Lee hoping to star in a remake of Twelfth Night?

Motley Crue met both gender confusion and the body politic on Saturday night when the ex-Mr. Pamela Anderson dropped into the Ultra Supper Club on Queen. With the much-tattooed rock hooligan causing a constant hum in the restaurant — particularly among the touchy-feely lady-skeletons poured into Rock and Republic denim – one particular woman was singled out by Mr. Lee.

The woman — a knock-out, by any definition — shared more than a few moments with the rocker. They talked. They flirted. They did some tequila. She sat on his lap.

Jealousy, meanwhile, spread through the room like Raid being unleashed, ferociously, from a can. Why — you could see the bubblequotes over the heads of all the many bimbionics — did she get to sit on his lap, and not them? Why, why, why?

Others smirked. Yes, there´s more…. »

Buddies in Bad Times Theatre and everyone working on The Silicone Diaries wants to acknowledge the generous support of Northbound Leather for supplying my wardrobe.

I just picked up the finished garments today, and they are STUNNINGLY constructed! My outfit was designed by Northbound in collaboration with myself.

Thank you, Northbound for supporting the arts!

Evan Vipond, a 4th year York University theatre student, is compiling my media, theatre and performance work for a final year project.  The archive will include my play scripts, press, reviews, selected Tgirl columns and all materials related to my performance work.  The project is part of Evan’s work for the 4000 level Canadian Theatre course.

The archive will eventually be available in Scott Library at York University.

This week I got to hear a lot of the music and score elements that Richard Feren is putting together for The Silicone Diaries.  The way the soundscapes came together with the text felt so effortless.  It all just fell into place.  This is a credit, no doubt, to Richard’s genuis.

It was also thrilling that Richard, director Brendan Healy and I were in almost complete sympatico around decisions about the sonic elements of the show.

Very much looking forward to seeing how the sound and video projections work together! Also, we are building all the sound and tech queues on a massive storage USB key so when I tour the show I’ll be able to bring everyone’s awesome ideas with me.

Thanks to Tony Fong (assisted by Nicholad Flood) for the awesome photo, and thanks to Erika Hennebury and Shawn Hitchins for the design.

Created and performed by Nina Arsenault
Directed by Brendan Healy
Dramaturgy by Judith Rudakoff
Stage Manager Laura Baxter
Set Design by Trevor Schwellnus
Video Projections by Nicolas A. Greenland
Sound Design by Richard Feren

In his inaugural address Healy was humbled by the history of the Queer Theatre Company. This past, according to Healy, will not only inspire him but also guide him in his leadership:

“I not only see a story of a group of artistic pioneers and mavericks, who fought to create a space for the avante-guarde in the city. I also see a community who fought and who is fighting for equality. I see a story where a theatre company and community came to together and stood in the face of intolerance and fought for the freedom of expression. And together to took leaps that were never dreamt possible.

Me as a 34-year old gay man standing here tonight my life is in part because of that thirty-year story. So, tonight as I stand here before you as the new Artistic Director of Buddies, I say that I’m about to take a step backwards Yes, there´s more…. »

Box Office Hours of Operation How to purchase tickets By phone: 416.975.8555 (Visa or MC) Box Office hours: 12-5 Tues – Sun, 12-8 days of performances. A $2.00 convenience charge is applicable to each ticket purchased by telephone. Online: www.totix.ca. You can buy tickets online through T.O. Tix. A limited number of tickets for select performances are available. Please note that TO Tix is a separate ticket agent which represents Buddies in Bad Times Theatre by providing online service to our patrons. As proof of purchase, please bring a print out of your receipt to the theatre on the day of the performance. In person: We are located two blocks north of Carlton, east of Yonge at 12 Alexander Street. Tickets may be purchased during regular box office hours using Cash, Visa, MC or Debit. Tickets will be held at the box office under your name and will be available for pick up on the day of the performance. Tickets purchased through our box office can be mailed to you, upon request for an additional charge of $3.50 per order.