Wednesday, 12 February 2014

Translations


Having a deep love of operatic dark indie electro pop with bonus points if it's made by queers I instantly fell in love with the Canadian band Austra when I saw them supporting a terrible band (I'm way too nice to name names) in a half empty show at Brixton Windmill four years ago. Understandably they have gone on to be relatively huge since then whilst still being sickeningly young and talented and attractive, the kind of people who make me go oh shit my youth is over and I've achieved NOTHING. But I forgive them because their music is so good and my life would be worse without it. They also make amazing videos such as the lo fi dirtiness of the Beat and Pulse video and their latest one for Hurt Me Now which is like a david lynch inspired acid trip complete with a monster beheading.  One I have been watching over and over again recently is their video for 'Forgive Me'.


I generally love anything that's shot in the woods in the middle of the night but particularly when combined with cruising, public sex, FEELINGS, neon and forgiveness. I like anything that has a dirty surface and hints at something more tender going on underneath although the video makes sex seem anything but dirty. I particularly liked that the starring role was given to a trans woman, Judy Virago, and it apparently shows a story of a sex worker who isn't being judged (although the director, Claire Edmonson, insists she's actually a bored housewife). When the band released the video they quoted Judy Virago's comments on it which really struck a chord with me:
"As a trans woman, the story of this video resonates pretty strongly with me. Society expects trans people and sex workers to apologize for their deviation from the norm and to explain themselves. Being cisgender is meant to be the default. So when a trans person is dating someone there are a lot of questions asked "does that mean your boyfriend is gay?" "how do you have sex?" ...the kinds of questions that most women don't get asked. This video asks no questions about the transgender woman featured and asks for no apology. She is loved, and she forgives."
I've identified as trans for a long time, since before I had the language or world around me where people like me would say 'I identify as trans'. I'm in a pretty privileged position in the queer/trans communities of which I am a part being masculine/ftm-ish, white, middle class. I actually get really bored going to trans or queer events and listening to people in a similar boat as me going on and on about their gender as though nothing and no one else in the world ever dealt with any shit. I find myself rolling my eyes and thinking can't we talk about something else for once? The thing is I'm also used to being referred to as 'he' etc in those environments which is completely right for me but when I get outside of there and try to address the rest of the world they invariably decide I'm female at least once I start talking and they hear my voice which grates on me and I find that I myself end up going on and on about being trans. At the same time I completely understand how people outside of a certain context only understand transgender in terms of hormones and operations because they've never heard of anything different but it's still annoying.
I study Creative Writing which has been a life saver for me in many ways. It keeps me focused on something I'm pretty good at and determined to improve upon. My course mates are really awesome and supportive but when you are writing about something based on your personal experience as a trans person or as a sex worker you instantly come up against a wall trying to explain stuff that you just know to those that aren't trans or sex workers.
Let's first deal with the trans stuff. If you want to write from the point of view of a trans person who hasn't taken hormones or had surgery and you want it to be understood in a mostly cis/straight environment you have to constantly reiterate that that person is trans. This is a little easier than being a trans person who hasn't done those things in such an environment because at least you get to write from inside the head of the trans person with them viewing themselves as whatever gender they are rather than whatever everyone else decides they are. You can't use words like 'cis' and 'genderqueer' if you want to write something that will be understood outside particular trans/queer communities because most cis/straight people won't understand them but actually a lot of trans and gender variant people don't use those words either; when I talk to trans people outside the very particular trans/queer vaguely lefty/activisty/anarcho community Ive known in the UK and US that becomes all the more apparent. Similarly the word 'queer' doesn't resonate with a lot of people who are in no way straight and this of course doesn't mean they are less politically enlightened. I don't think it's entirely fair to say these words are elitist, because although the queer scene can be very dominated by white, middle class, transmasculine types, people from all backgrounds/identities use words like queer/genderqueer/etc not just the super privileged, but we should still not start to assume this language is universal even amongst trans people. Anyway, when I write I want it to be understandable even by people who are so cis and straight they don't even know they're cis and straight because they've never had to think about those things. Or at least I want to aim for that, but I don't want to write specifically for them either, certainly not moreso than other trans people who I also don't write for specifically because my experience will invariably betray someone else's. Everytime you write something about being trans someone else is pissed off because now all the cis people think you have told the definitive story because they want to know the answer to what your particular brand of oddness means without understanding that there is no single answer just as there's no definitive experience of being cis or black or white or working class or gay or straight but everyone whether under-represented/willfully misrepresented/wiped off the fucking map by mainstream culture should be just as entitled to their own subjectivity in creative writing as cis straight white guys who never have to worry about representation. 
I wrote a story for class recently which featured a guy (cis) who came up to the narrator (trans) and one of the first questions the cis guy asked the trans guy was 'have you had the surgery?' which is really typical, people ask that shit all the time after you tell them you're trans. The narrator responds by asking the cis guy what's in his pants and how his genital area has changed over the years which is the way I wish I'd responded whenever a complete stranger asked me that question, I mean apart from by a client because at least then it's relevant to the job. As Judy Virago says in her quote re the Austra video trans people are expected to explain themselves all the time. Some people in the class really liked the genital discussing bit but some also thought it signaled an over-reaction on the part of the narrator and evidently everyone whose ever asked me very casually as soon as I tell them I'm trans about surgery thinks it's an appropriate opening question when getting to know people. It's not enough for me to say I'm trans, they must work out WHY and identify the exact specimen and find out what I've got going on under my clothes because if it's not what they think it should be and it conflicts with the over-arching narrative in their head of the trans experience (usually they can understand a person only as medically transitioned transsexual) then it does not compute and surely I owe them an explanation.
With stories I write they only usually work if the narrator is very similar to myself (lack of imagination perhaps) so I've spent about a year and a half on my course finding different ways to explain how you can be trans even without medical treatment. I also emailed my class and asked them to refer to me with male pronouns because I want to insist on the same things outside of the trans community as I would within it even if people have trouble getting it and I also want people to know that hormones and surgery aren't the only way of being transgender. I want that to be common knowledge. But still I have to have really irritating conversations with the odd coursemate who tells me they don't see such and such as trans because 'she' (possibly the wrong pronoun) hasn't had hormones or surgery like it's the cis person's choice to say who's trans and who isn't. Like we have to have a medical seal of approval, like the only way to be a man or a woman if you were born otherwise is to pass as much as a cis person as possible. I'm not attacking those who choose hormones and surgery, I'm on the waiting list for hormones myself and I wouldn't rule out ever having surgery but I hate this idea that there is only one trans narrative and only one type of body which makes an authentically trans person. Justify why you have this body and if you're not going to change it justify how you can be trans. Someone from the course commented that the thing with questions about surgery was like people of colour getting pissed off by being asked 'where are you from?' They thought that in both cases people getting offended signified an over sensitivity (they were cis and white themselves if you hadn't already worked that out). In truth both these questions often mean something else. I remember a friend once pointing out, having been asked the question 'Where are you from?' a ridiculous number of times despite his English accent (and the asker wasn't referring to London or Manchester but where he was 'really' from), that when asked purely because someone's a person of colour that question is generally a code for 'Why aren't you white?' even if the person asking the question hasn't thought about it enough to realise that's what they're saying. 'Have you had surgery?' means something like 'Are you properly trans? Have you followed the correct procedures?' Of course if I knew someone well and it came up in conversation I wouldn't care about being asked about surgery/hormones, I've always been pretty open about that stuff, I mean I've just told the internet, it's on my OK Cupid profile, both of them, but what annoys me is that a person believes it's their god-given right to know.
Sex work is pretty hard to translate as well. I wrote a story based on a really bad experience I had with a client in very acute detail and I knew it would play into the whore-as-victim narrative no matter how much context I gave it. I understand people being freaked out by the story, it was pretty traumatic when it happened and I wanted to convey how it felt, also the people on my course aren't necessarily anti-sex work, but it didn't explain the whole story which was that overall sex work is the best option for me and I'm way happier now than when I was in full time work. Apart from the fact I sincerely doubt I can earn a sustainable living off it I would prefer to be doing this than any 9 to 5 stuff. I don't think under capitalism there's really such a thing as free choice, that we are obligated to work for synthetic currency in any capacity is ridiculous, if we're lucky we make the best of different options -where there are options- at a particular time. I spend a lot of time in environments where there are lots of other sex workers and it's self-evident sex work shouldn't be criminalised or abolished but that workers should be able to work as safely as possible and without stigma and be able to continue working or leave if they wish to but coercion either way is wrong. With that shared understanding it feels ok to talk about sex work, including bad experiences, without having to justify why be a sex worker. Writing about it for the rest of the world sometimes feels like a betrayal, as writing about trans sometimes feels like a betrayal. You have to spend so much time explaining yourself you are reduced to an identity and you reduce yourself to one because you are forever explaining. And you can't ever translate properly what you've been through, not even to other trans people or sex workers although you can try. 
A friend of mine who works as a translator told me that when translating across languages you often lose something from the original text because there are simply is no words for a particular concept in the language it's being translated into. Maybe here the act of translation can be the act of building something new but the full original meaning remains obscured. I'm tragically mono linguistic and yet I feel like I'm always trying to work out a way of translating experience into something someone else will understand and sometimes wonder why bother explaining anything at all? If the whole work of telling a story involves trying to translate rather than telling the actual story why not just leave the translation altogether and if whoever reads it is lost, let them be lost. But I don't know, maybe it's that thing where everyone dies alone but it doesn't stop us spending our entire lives reaching out for other people.

Friday, 3 January 2014

Resolutions

So I don't usually make new year's resolutions but this year I made about 16. One of them was to give up drinking which lasted until my 1st January Bloody Mary but I figure it's OK to break that one because I didn't really mean it. I mean cutting down is perhaps a better idea because I enjoy being drunk but I know  it fuels my anxiety and depression if I drink for too long a period of time in a row. But anyways this Bloody Mary had several different types of vegetable in it so I feel the nutritional value outweighs any ill-effects that may come from the vodka. This was in the Castro in San Francisco and then my friends and I went to Dolores Park and drank cheap wine from brown paper bags (illustrative pictures to follow when I get back to the UK). Gotta be done right? Anyways that wasn't the most important resolution.
I'm not one for traditions but as aforementioned I have the good fortune to be in the US right now (currently on Ocean Beach in San Diego in a hippie coffee shop - their wifi network is called 'World Peace') nearing the end of a West Coast road trip and even on the plane on the way out here I was mentally plotting changes I wanted to make, but having really wonderful conversations with old and new friends here has made me evermore determined with some of this stuff.
Hearing the minutiae of other people's existence can be pretty boring so I won't go into all of the resolutions. I fear writing about any of this stuff is pretty self-indulgent but one of the things I resolved to do was start blogging again just so I know I'd be writing something at least once a week and it would be up for public consumption to get over my fears that what I write or express about myself is never good enough. This links on to an even bigger resolution which was to attempt to try and feel less shame or at least limit the impact it has on my life. One of the reasons I stopped writing a blog and one of the reasons I write a lot less than I want to is the fear of judgement. Traditionally I start blogs and then delete them or drop them because I think what I write is embarrassing/self-indulgent/bad/wrong/not good enough. I think this is probably a common theme with most bloggers and writers. Knowing what to share and what not to share about yourself is a tension that exists for everyone, particularly writing, particularly in an age where everything is accessible by everyone on the internet but, at least for me, if I don't attempt to do something with my writing there's no point.
This blog is coming from someone too dazed from long road trips to have a proper conclusion, so I'm gonna sign off and wander the beach some more before I go back to London and my broken boiler in a few days time.

Sunday, 16 June 2013

WELCOME TO HELL BITCHES!

MYKKI BLANCO / PSYCHO EGYPTIAN / BOY CHILD / BLUE DAISY / THE VISIONIST

Live @ The Village Underground (10/06/13)

One day I will get a camera good enough to take 
photos at gigs. For now, a Mykki Blanco video. Enjoy!


So there’s much talk in the alternative press about a surge in queer rappers coming out of NYC at the moment, artists such as Mykki Blanco, Le1f, Cakes da Killa, Zebra Katz and Azealia Banks to name but a few, but maybe it’s just that the predominantly white hipster (social) media has recently caught on and started fawning over such artists bringing them to the attention of those who don’t know much about hip hop, like me. Whilst representation is undoubtedly important in a white hetero dominated world, most of the above-named artists have stated they don’t want to all be lumped together and put in a box, some eschewing the ‘queer hip hop’ label. Mykki Blanco repeatedly says in interviews that her musical lineage is influenced as much by glam rock as by hip hop. Whatever the case I’m glad I get to see Mykki Blanco in London for a second time, particularly as perhaps owing to the venue, perhaps owing to who she brought along on tour with her this show is way more enjoyable than when I went to see her at Birthdays earlier this year. Unlike at Birthdays, there is room to dance at The Village Underground and the sound is better. In fact the sound is so good it’s deafening. If you go to this venue wear earplugs people. Fortunately they had some at the bar, along with the FOUR POUND mini cans of beer. OK, old man rant over.
I enter the venue and my ears are blasted with the beats of London-based DJ/Producer The Visionist. Grime-y genre-blurring and all round super fun. You can’t help but dance or shuffle-bounce very occasionally in time.
Another local artist Blue Daisy is up next, he’s all about the balaclava (which he comes on wearing but very sensibly removes later – I mean he must be so hot!) His show is a slightly mixed bag, but overall an energetic, enjoyable performance from the rapper, complete with a good old jump into the crowd at the end, something that’s a staple of tonight’s performers.
Next up is another DJ who I sadly can’t find the name of, he accompanies Mykki and friends’ set but first plays one of his own which is hella awesome, blending hip hop, pop, r n b, electronica and other genres. Spliced up snatches of Rihanna’s ‘Diamonds’, Shanks and Bigfoot’s ‘Sweet Like Chocolate’ and Madonna’s ‘Vogue’ can be heard and it’s all awesomely danceable.
Mykki Blanco comes out and everyone goes nuts which you can tell she is fully anticipating. She’s wearing bright red lipstick, some very flammable-looking long silver stretchy hot pants and a wig, she looks predictably wonderful. She makes a thinly veiled statement about how London can fuck you over which she mentions later in the show too so I deduce she may have fallen out with a promoter/venue person…She tells us she still has to do her hair and introduces Psycho Egyptian, another arch hottie and pretty great performer from NYC. He comes on repeating the refrain ‘Black guys in leather jackets’ getting louder as the track builds and goes on to do songs about welfare and personal demons. He’s uber bouncy which is a plus. Generally I’m anti-flag but the tight Italian-flag hot pants with a big cock drawing adorning the front which he tells us he bought in Rome last night do look pretty fetching on him.
Next up is Boy Child, a performance artist who stands before us shaven-headed, face and body painted ghostly white. She comes on in a white sheet which she then rips off to stand topless. She resembles a twisted gothic one of those ‘moving statue’ people you get on the Southbank/Monte Martre/Las Ramblas but unlike them I could watch her for hours. I don’t know how she does it but as she twists to the sound of Rihanna’s ‘Rude Boy’ electrical lights flash from her mouth and hands like she’s on fire and the effect is entrancing. Whoa.
So Mykki B swans on for proper now, glass of wine in hand. ‘Y’all got me feeling like Beyonce!’ she announces quite a few times, alright Mykki, on with the show. Her set is a mixture of more conventional –for her- singles like Kingpinning and the infinitely addictive Wavvy and lyrical poetry/spoken word, sometimes without any musical/beat accompaniment. The set is pretty short, but I'm often a fan of short sets. I do wish she’d play ‘Join My Militia’ because it’s so messy and dark and distorted and raw, a bit acid rap Marilyn Manson but better. Sadly she doesn’t, or she plays what sounds like the start of it. Still this is a small loss in a great show. For the finale she invites the audience onstage which is glorious and leaves health and safety scratching their heads.


A pretty spectacular night of sweat and underwear and trash and style and bragging and explicit twisted rap and explicit everything else, if this is the hell Mykki is talking about in Wavvy then I'm glad I'm such a dirty sinner.

Friday, 14 June 2013

On fire

This is the sort of thing I youtube on a friday night after several beers. The cello strings at the end kill me as does Kristin's gravelly voice. And the plucking goddamnit.