Anyhow, I wrote in this text 'as performers, this vulnerable state we prepare for ourselves is what makes the public wonder. In the end, the vulnerability may be the only thing we have in common with them. There is no doubt about it though. We are being the other on purpose and the precariousness of our surroundings reinforces our otherness.'

The heightened readability of your work in a European vs. Canadian art context makes sense, but because of this, and because of the conservatism in the Canadian art world you spoke of, being a Canadian artist I find your work's reception at home, or lack thereof, particularly meaningful. As your work is not detached but more "real" (i.e. doesn't promote queer differentiation in a largely straight society by being homoerotic like the work of Bruce Eves, or iconographic like General Idea-not to deny the importance of free sexual identity, though), do you see yourself as arbiter of an integration of queers into the mainstream, as individuals, by allowing your work to express something absurd about notions of the "other"? Or to have the viewer question whether a relevant, all encompassing, category exists with which to marginalize gays?

Canadian art professionals have difficulty assessing works that are about identity politics, but are not literal. It is a way, in my opinion, to ghettoize these practices to separate them from 'contemporary art'. They may approach this work in a charitable way instead of a critical way. I've always been confused about this, as Canada is really at the forefront of body and identity politics-it is an intrinsic and important part of artistic production here. I would say that curators do the 'othering' by framing works in a ghettoizing way (like exhibitions that focus on African-Canadians during Black History Month, or large shows of First Nations artists in institutions that normally marginalize these practices).

The obsession around sex in the gay world is not unique to the contemporary art world. We are being sexualized in a very problematic way, even by weeklies such as XTra that are run by queers. Dykes and transsexuals are even more marginalized, as their sexuality is deemed inappropriate for the main queer male readership. On the other hand, dykes are sexualized by straight men all over the place-porn, television, fiction, etc.

Television is the weirdest articulator of gay identity, with shows such as Queer as Folk regurgitating the same stereotypes we were trying to counter in the 1950s. Yuk.

Seriously, when I hear 'gay community,' I want to puke. There is no community per se, just a network of institutions that cater to our sexual desires. This does not make for community in any sense of the word. So, to say that I'm a 'queer' artist is problematic for me, especially given that I don't necessarily prescribe to the word queer as a 'collective member.'

Isaac Julien said in a conference: I think it is important that the work be seen as 'art,' without the various kinds of tags that you assign to it. For me, I would object to it being labeled 'black art' or 'black queer art.' That becomes quite problematic. It's a way of marking a person's work because they happen to be non-white or non-heterosexual. We never say that's 'white heterosexual art.' You know, there's sort of an implicit racism and homophobia in work identified as such. When asked what it was like to work as a black, gay artist, Julien responded that he 'speaks from that positionality not for it.'

I guess I agree with these statements, and have seen similar branding strategies in Canada. 'Queer artists' in general avoid me like the plague, and I have only been able to discuss these issues with a very limited group of gay artists, such as Benny Nemerovsky Ramsay. Others are quite content to create a queer arts community that functions similarly to a gay bar (I would so get blasted for saying this!) But I think there is racism and sexism in the queer art world, where white men fuck white men and show/promote white men. In many cases where people of color are involved in these projects, they serve more as props than respectable subjects (Bruce LaBruce is a good example of this problematic fetishism).

So, it is unfortunate that even the gay art world would prefer to ignore my practice because of its subtlety and honesty.

A lot of your work seems to materialize/visualize the general public's manifestation of the gay "community" (something which probably doesn't exist), although from what I see there is also a beauty and vulnerability in how you frequently present yourself as a "monster," is this an effect you were striving for or do you intend to present yourself as an icon of the general public's anxieties? If you do intend the latter, which may be the case based on your comments on the "Monster" project, what do you think is vital about the reaction of the participant, and what reaction do you expect?

This monsterization (I just made that word up) is important to me because it is the best metaphor for queers in North America. I remember not so long ago the start of the AIDS epidemic meant that all queers were possibly infectious. This perception still prevails today, although, with the coming of political correctness, people are weary to bring this up in public forums. 10,000s of people died because of this perception-it was god's will to kill off the monsters.