JD Samson occupies a pretty amazing space

in this world. As a member of the popular

electro/dance/punk band, Le Tigre, she has
released major records and played to sold-out
crowds all over the world, and as DJ JD, she
has spun records to an even broader audience
of sweaty revelers. As an artist she has released
two conceptual calendars and had one critically
acclaimed exhibition at Deitch Projects in New
York, JDs Lesbian Utopia (October, 2005). To
some, she is mistakenly the dude in Le Tigre;
while to an ever increasing number of people
she is a hero, an idol, a sex symbol and/or a
role model. JD, herself, is not transgendered,
although she does have a lot of dear friends and
associates who were born female but have since
changed their pronouns to ones they nd more
comfortable with, fromshe to he, hers
to his and taken hormones to affect their
physical presences but, rather, she identies
as a butch lesbian, meaning that she is a lesbian,
a woman, who happens to behave or appear in
a way that some would consider traditionally
masculine. Also, her mustache, which seems to
be an ever-recurring focus of her appearance, is
completely naturalmany women actually have
them, JD simply aunts hers. The fact that her
identity is happily ambiguous probably increases
her poignancy as a role model or touchstone
for young people who are queer, gender queer,
questioning, transgendered and anything in
between. JD is always unapologetically herself.
As a result of whatever unique sequence of
events, she has been granted access into a
greater spotlight than most people could have
access to, especially those who strongly and
visibly challenge gender notions. It is a role she
is aware of and takes seriously.

Emily Roysdon occupies a similarly amazing,
if slightly less in your face, space in this world.
She is a brilliant artist and writer who makes
work about memory and language. She is an
enthusiastic performer of conceptual ideas
turned queer and relevant. She is also, much
like JD, a person that that truly lives for the
communityalthough she will maintain in
the interview that she nds that termslightly
problematic these daysand as such it is
somewhat tting that at this point she is
perhaps still best known as 1/4 of the LTTR
artist collective which also includes Ginger
Brooks Takahashi, Ulrike Mueler, and K8
Hardy. In their own words: LTTR is a feminist
genderqueer artist collective with a exible
project-oriented practice. LTTR produces an
annual independent art journal, performance
series, events, screenings and collaborations...
LTTR is dedicated to highlighting the work of
radical communities whose goals are sustainable
change, queer pleasure, and critical feminist
productivity. Their curations and productions
have appeared in major art institutions and
radical alternative spaces alike literally all over
the world. In her own practice, Emily uses
lm, photo, text, performance, costuming
and choreography to explore the failures of
communication through repetition and body
forward speeches and is fast establishing her
own place in the artworld with a kind and
generous ferocity.

JD and Emily dated for a few years a few years
ago, but today they are the sort of best friends
whomanyone would want: the type of best
friend around whomyou think the clearest. Life
and careers have established that JD, although
constantly touring, keeps her home base in New
York; while Emily, despite constant claims that
her heart is in New York, keeps returning to Los
Angeles.

The idea has existed for over a year now to put
JD on the cover of the magazine. What followed
was the thought that Emily should do the
interview, and that was followed by the thought
that they should interview each other. And
now here we are, literally over a year later, and
extremely proud to present to you the following
conversation. It is a deep, deep dialog spanning
artistic practice, politics, community, ethical and
sociopolitical concerns and life paths.

It was conducted via email in August of 2006,
while JD was on tour playing keyboard in
Peaches band and Emily was in LA working on
the latest issue of LTTR and trying to recover
fromUCLA.
All images courtesy of Emily Roysdon and JD Samson
Emily Roysdon: Before you were
involved with your band, Le Tigre,
you were making wall lms, amazing
drawings that moved through space.
You were a visual artist. Taking moving
images and forcing themstill. Cutting
themup with scissors. I always wonder
how you will return, I mean, if you want
to focus on a visual practice instead of
the music and performance that has
been your last few years. And I wonder
what you have learned fromthe music
and performance that would inuence
you in all the other arts?
JD Samson: Since I was a toddler, visual
art was everything to me. I grew up
with two artist parents, my mother a
silversmith turned party decorator/art
teacher. And my dad a wood sculptor
turned sand and gravel miner. I used to
stay awake until three in the morning
drawing. I never stopped. There was
no music in my life though. Never a
record spun. Never a piano played. So
as I grew the music came owing in
through the windows fromthe outside
world. And soon enough music was
growing out of me fromthe inside. It
was a way to nd myself out of my
house. And out of my neighborhood
and into a whole other group of people.
A support unit. Through buying music
and going to rock shows. And music
has always been that for me. A certain
kind of escape fromreal life in which I
nd myself performing even if no one
is around. Another place to go. And
there is something truly addictive to
me about the mediumof music and of
performance. There is a certain rush of
energy I feel on stage. Michael Jackson
once said that he feels more like himself
onstage than at any other time in his
life and I agree wholeheartedly. There
is something truly organic to me about
performing, about being onstage.
These days I often sit and draw. Feeling
my ngers and working to nd a space
where they can take me to visual art
again. Full time. And I believe they
will somehow. One thing that feels
necessary in working toward that in
my life is physical space. I have a need
to move my body and follow through
without running into the walls. I want
to be able to make a mess. Have the
privacy to fail without being afraid that
someone will see the mess. I think
that music has become my principal
art formout of chance as well as the
claustrophobia that New York City has
been for me. Being able to travel around
the world and performfor so many
amazing people as well as working my
body into a total frenzy on stage are the
movements I feel so lucky to have. They
have let me feel free.
I amglad that you asked me about the
mediumof music because recently you
have spoken to me of your interest in
making music. In singing. Performance. I
personally wonder if that has something
to do with being directly face to face
with your audience. Giving the audience
that energy that you hold and directly
seeing the happiness and the particular
energy of the audience at a rock show. I
nd that these things are something that
are so incredible to me about working
as an artist in that kind of venue. Having
a show... giving 110 percent. Sweating
and working. So they can see. So that it
is for them. That all I want in my heart is
to make a space where people are happy
and feel good about it.
(Previous, clockwise from top)
Schedule of events at Pilot TV, Chicago 2004.
Lesbians on Ecstacy at release party for LTTR
issue 3, Practice More Failure. Part of the LTTR
Explosion at Art in Genral, NYC 2004.
Le Tigre plays live in futuristic crossing guard
oufhfs.
Le Tigre plays live at the Che Cafe in San Diego
in 2000.
LTTR members Ginger Brooks Takahashi,
Emily Roysdon and Ulrike Mueller at Printed
Matter during their summer 2005 residency.
Pilot TV after party performace by the Chicago
Boys Choir.
(This page, clockwise from top right)
JD Samson, Johanna Fateman, and Kathleen
Hanna of Le Tigre in a photobooth picture from
Japanese tour 2001.
JD performs the song Viz at Webster Hall in
New York City in 2005.
Hariet Harry Dodge reading from her text,
High Five for Ram Dass at LTTR 4 release
party, December 2005 at the Sundown Salon,
Los Angeles, CA.
Le Tigre Crowd at Michigan Womyns Music
Festival 2001.
JD performs Keep On Living with Le Tigre at
the Umea festival in Sweden 2000.
JD perfroming with New England Roses
members Sarah Shapiro and Brendan Fowler at
the Smell, Los Angeles, 2005.
!o TIgro Inys n bonohf for of In our nmo In
Washington DC at the Washington
Monument fall of 2005.
JD Samson and Sarah Shapiro play with the
New England Roses in San Francisco 2005.
JD and Peaches Djing at Little Pedros in Los
Angeles, winter 2005
ER: Truly what I want to do is go on tour with
you. I think we already are the blessed ones
of the earth with our traveling international
lives. Sometimes when people are surprised
that there is more than one of us in the world,
I mean like a community that understands
what we are doing (my momfor example),
I try to explain that I could go to almost
any major city in the world and receive
hospitality- through friends of friends and
known labor Back to your question, or
the music part of it. I want to let go of my
voice. I ama performative person. But I dont
understand practicing. I like rehearsals, but
as the object itself. complicated maybe. but
my voice, I want to sing. You are the one
that told me I only really sound good when
singing country songs. Sure, that was 5 years
ago, but I think its true still. I want to let go
for the feeling inside me and for sharing. The
beautiful Becky Stark/ Lavander Diamond
has been teasing me with voice lessons for
months now. We both want to but havent
gotten together. She has an ecstatic method
for learning, not a disciplined one. Like power
dancing! Get loose, let go. I think singing
could unite my desires. I want to write more,
say things directly to people and feel it when
I say it.
What would JD solo sound like?
JD: JD solo sounds different than it would
behave. JD solo is frantic beats but melodic
strings, trumpets, pianos. JD solo is part hip-
hop dancing on the oor kicking up the dirt
pushing into things and breaking. JD solo
is the voice of a teenager stuck in the closet
trying not to wake up the parents. JD solo is
part sadness free jazz dancing to the beat of
a different drummer. JD solo is mostly holy
shit I want to hold all of you in my arms and
feel our hearts beat together. And JD solo is
a choir.
ER: Have you ever really focused on
choreography? Its amazing how your body
moves. Its in your lms and your stage
personality
JD: When I was three my momtook me to
Dalcroze Class which is a rhythmic movement
and improvisation class which I have never
heard anything else about in my whole life.
She made me wear red Danskin pants and
for some reason I screamed and cried and
never went back. At least that is the only part
I remember about the day. Who knows. After
that I never once took a dance class and never
really paid attention to my own movement
until I began frequenting Bar and Bat
mitzvahs. I guess at that point I understood
that I moved differently than the other girls.
Something my parents took note of much
earlier that me, I might add. Dancing was a
way for me to let loose and feel condent.
I took a Hip-hop dance class for a couple
weeks in college and loved it. Then I began
performing on stage and somehow gave birth
to my JD dance style.
Honestly, I think about this all the time. How
movements and dance are things that really
make me have a good time. But like most
things for me, classical training doesnt
come so naturally. I constantly nd myself
searching for a new rhythmand letting go of
the structure. Punk rock? I guess so. I think
you are right that my movement and music
could never be separated. Its what makes
me JD I guess. Punk Rock dance and punk
rock electronics. Do it wrong to do it right. I
dont know. It feels good thats all I really care
about.
ER: And yeah what about the stage
personality? I amfascinated with how you
moved into gay celebrity. I guess everyone
is but I know you like your privacy and to
walk around the city alone, stoned, eating bad
food. Are you really so altruistic about it? Like
having the positive queer visibility is worth it?
JD: I believe that I came into the music world
and the public eye at a very interesting time.
It was the moment when the 1990s backlash
fromthe androgynous musicians of the 1980s
(ie. k.d. lang and Boy George) had ended
and people were looking for a new kind of
radical superhero. Especially the young queer
kids who wanted to dance and the straight
fashion editors who wanted androgyny to
be the new fake fade. People werent used
to seeing butch lesbians with facial hair
feeling condent. Making art. Making music.
Onstage.
More than any of that though, I think part of it
also had to do with the production of my 2003
calendar, JDs Lesbian Calendar, which was
a compilation of photographs of myself in all
kinds of butch lesbian occupations which
was shot by my friend Cass Bird. At the time I
was thoroughly excited for my fame because
it was all about creating butch lesbian
visibility and queer visibility in a whole new
mainstreamspace.
Watching Parker Posey, a famous Hollywood
actress, buying a calendar and asking for an
autograph was a really big deal to me. Just
thinking about MY GAYNESS on the wall
24 hours a day 7 days a week for 52 weeks
in Parker Poseys house. 52 weeks in my
bandmate, Johanna Fatemanss, mothers
ofce. All over the world. Fucking Crazy. The
last time I had checked I was a nerdy lesbian
artist with a moustache
At that moment in my life I was partly
claiming my own fame and making fun of it
at the same time. Sometimes I sit and wonder
if I would have the same kind of celebrity as I
do today if I didnt make that calendar.
I guess I feel that I succeeded in a lot of
ways and amextremely proud of my activist
work and quest for visibility because I am
lucky enough to receive incredible feedback
everyday fromkids thanking me for what I
have done. That is enough to make me live
it and love it forever. And never look back or
regret what I have done.
JD: What is your greatest accomplishment as
an artist thus far?
ER: I amnot so good at recognizing
accomplishment. It was three years into
LTTR, at the boohaaa! Art in General LTTR
Explosion summer 2004 that I was nally
proud of it. Like for all the time before I
couldnt recognize what my involvement had
to do with its success. And LTTR is special
because it is so many that participate in the
events. Everyone works for free, does what
they are good at. But nally one night I was
proud to have been one that makes it happen.
On the other hand accomplishments are
small and many. I recently experimented with
college- as in I went to grad school- and it was
terrible for a while. I decided to come to LA
and go to school because I knew it would be
one of the most difcult situations I could put
myself in. I hadnt been to art school, didnt
know any art history besides the Whitney
Independent Study Programparadigm. I
came to LA to see what I would do- would I
develop a studio practice? Revolt and write
poems, make more clothes, nally formalize
performance? I wanted to be an artist, but
didnt have a lot of respect for artworks. The
small and many accomplishments that I cite
now come in the formof drawings. Before
I accepted the challenge of having a studio
practice I would have never allowed myself
to pick up a pencil. I didnt even realize you
could buy paper. It sounds dumb, but it
does effectively communicate the tangled
position I had myself in. I went to school and
psychoanalysis at the same time. To me its
the same thing, and California is good for
both.
JD: And what is your biggest goal to achieve
as an artist in your lifetime?
ER: My identity as an artist is integral but
unstable. Its the way I think and what I do
with my labor that qualies me as an artist.
The unstable part is the object/commodity/
commercial part. I wont relate to success
(Right) James Tsang, Ginger
Brooks Takahashi, Pony
and Xylor Jane sell boot-leg
versions of LTTR and t-shirts
a few doors down from Printed
Matter during the 23rd St.
block party for the release of
LTTR issue 4.
(Opposite page, clockwise from
top right)
An image from the (untitled)
David Wojnarowicz Project by
Emily Roysdon. pictured with
DW mask - Mirabelle Marden,
Melissan Bent, Maelia Marden.
From the series (untitled)
David Wojnarowicz project,
2001.
LTTR members Ginger Brooks
Takahashi, Ulrike Mueller,
K8 Hardy, and Emily Roysdon
celebrate in London, April 2006.
JD and Peaches during
Peaches Boys Wanna Be Her
video in summer 2006.
JD DJs at the Gay and Lesbian
Film Festival in Brisbane,
Australia in 2006.
Ulrike Mueller, Jocelyn Davis
and Matt Wolf collate issue 3 in
Brooklyn.
After the after party for LTTR
2 at Andrew Kreps Gallery
in NYC. Pictured: Leidy
Churchman, Dean Daderko,
James Tsang, Bridge Joyce,
Devon Haynes, Emily Roysdon,
Megan Palaima, Math Bass,
Ginger Brooks Takahashi, Kim
Kelly.
Emily and JD in LA. summer
2006, Emilys 2nd dj lesson.
(Following spread)
JDs 2003 Lesbian Callender,
MR. Lady (2002)
JDs Lesbian Utopia 2006,
Deitch Projects (2005)
LTTR No. 1, LESBIANS TO
THE RESCUE, (2002)
LTTR No. 2, LISTEN
TRANSLATE TRANSLATE
RECORD, (2003)
LTTR No. 3, PRACTICE MORE
FAILURE, (2004)
LTTR No. 4, HOW DO YOU
WISH TO DIRECT ME, (2005)
that way. If I can imagine success it is to
survive with a feeling of togetherness.
I would love to be recognized for being
good at something, but that is the right
of every person. And it is a shame that
it would be a privilege if I do get to
experience that. I want to be a talent scout.
I used to think I should be a diplomat,
thats why I didnt start making art until I
was about 20. I had a use-value complex
(self titled), and thought I needed to be
more valuable to the world. In some ways
I amreturning to that now. Post grad
school art experiment. I want to rush out
into the world and not keep my head up
my own ass. Or the ass of someone who I
want to buy my drawings! My greatest life
hero (besides my moms and grandma of
course) is Eqbal Ahmad. He made lists- like
I will try to keep this short and make three
remarks about the history of interventions
in 20
th
century diplomacy. Really he talked
forever with sweeping remarks that could
cover social justice movements on every
continent. He was an advisor to Arafat, a
best friend to Edward Said and a strategist
in the Algerian revolution. A person who
made me wonder about what was possible
in a single lifetime. Eqbals intelligence and
commitments were more than effort at life.
He always ended his lectures by saying
think critically and take risks. I rely on
this advice.
JD: I know we, as artists are both
interested in creating a space. A
movement. A place for loving and
creativity bonded together. And when I
think about your work as an artist I see so
much use of other bodies that you love
and appreciate in your life. Friendship. I
call this collaboration. And it is. In your
video titled, social movement, for
example, using the bodies of people
around you clothed in nude bronzed
fabrics. Laying on each other. Staged.
And then working with photography in
your installation Strategic Form there
is another group of people intertwined
in human pyramid formation. There is
strength in numbers. And there is failure.
Falling. But it is still togetherness.
These bodies around you and the
energy of humans both make your art
communal (for lack of a better word).
I aminterested to know about your
relationship to persons. Bodies. Humans.
And community. To the way bodies t
together and dont. And what you feel that
the human formhas meant to your work.
Whether the idea of a group of people
outside the work itself is something that
you are thinking about specically when
you are creating a piece.
ER: Always in my life I ammoved by
others. Put me on the subway or on the
corner and I amhappy. I only know myself
by seeing what is around me. Seeing
myself reected in strangers and lovers
shows me who I amand helps direct my
actions. My arts are about that. In one way
it feels simple- I understand humans and
human relations, I amnot a gourmet chef
or avid gardener, but I know what people
want, and how they move. The part that is
complicated (if I said one part is simple) is
about relations. Building ethical relations
between people. All my work is about
language and memory- the impossibility
of communicating in a way- but living
inside the desperate need. In fact I just
made a super8 lmcalled Living the
Sacrice. It started with a faux narrative
about a woman who wakes up with a
ridiculous sense of urgency to tell a story,
to record an event. She sets up the camera
and begins but cant name an action,
speaks with many voices. The lmdosent
contain the narrative at all, it is the effort
of trying to articulate, the compulsion to
repeat and an inability to be conclusive.
The tension I was proposing was about
whether this person was evolving out of
an oral tradition and into a documentary
one or is it a return? Its another anti-
action scene, the reciprocal formof
the pieces you talked about. social
movement was lmed at Pilot TV, the
awesome Chicago experiment in 2004. The
Chicago teamturned a giant warehouse
space into an autonomous feminist
media zone and had all the equipment
anybody could need to produce work.
It was the rst time I ever made a video
(I have a severe issue I refer to as an
economy of materials). A lot of people
were producing spectacles, good ones!,
but I wanted to make a work that would
be a repose in all that madness. There
is a Lacanian theory that says we cant
remember the excesses- as in pleasure
and pain- we remember what is around
those moments and then our instincts,
imaginations, and unconscious ll in.
social movement is the image of labor of
creating our lives and arts. Its everything
outside of the frame of memory. I focused
on the marginal moment, recognizing
the loss that accompanies exposure- as a
tactic to articulate the extended histories
that accompany spectacular events. I
amcommitted to illuminating the theatre
of memorialized culture beyond its ash
trapped frame. I aminterested in labor and
to build relations that challenge monumental
meaning. This is the work and how I
understand bodies. I read bodies. I dont
understand sculpture or objects. I work with
others, and with bodies as elements in a
discourse.
What is your most ideal life art situation?
Who is your dreamaudience?
JD: I have recognized that the most
important goal that I hold dear as an artist is
to create a space for people. A joyful space.
An ecstatic space (as you coined). A space
to feel a part of something. Togetherness.
This is ideal to me. I have stared at my
dreamaudience that ts perfectly into this
incredible space. They use the space in the
most real way and with the most feeling and
heart. I have looked out into the crowd at
Le Tigre shows and thought: These are the
people I want. To dance with. To hold. This
is the community that my heart ts into.
And every day I appreciate that experience
more than anything in the world. I amstill
shocked that at age 28 I have already had
that opportunity.
It wasnt until recently that I realized...
perhaps I was tempted to not only create this
space but to KEEP the space. Perhaps it is
my duty to carry on the legacy of enjoyment
in our community at large. And when I
say community I mean the people. It can
mean the gay and lesbian community. The
artist community. The queer community.
The womens community. The feminist
community. The youth community. The
activist community. The people. The thing is
that now as I carry out new projects and tour
with other bands as well as Le Tigre, I feel
as though I amghting to keep the audience
(community, if you will) together. Because
that feeling of bumping into bodies sweating
wet with emotion and comfort is one of the
most beautiful things that we as a people can
have. And hold on to.
A question I wanted to ask you, Emily, is:
Do you feel as though you are KEEPING
something alive with your art and activism,
that has been continuing and cycling through
history, or would you choose to say that
you are creating a NEWspace for a new
community.
Also, why are you sick of community? And
why do you say that the word is dead?
ER: Well, I resist being the freak who disses
community, but alas, I did say that, and I can
clarify. I amtired of the word community as
it is so pervasive and losing a deep sense
of meaning. Community can mean scene,
consumer, listener, etc- but community is
often a misnomer for those groups it refers
to. I want community to mean a dynamic
of ethical relations amongst a few or many.
How about ecstatic ethical relations. At least
for the community you and I share.
And to more of your question. Its a historical
conundrum. No, I dont think we should
always reinvent the wheel, but yes it
happens. Drama, life dramas and changing
contexts and nancial impossibilities and
institutionalization. All these things mount
against our desire to sustain viable spaces
and movements. On the other hand I
very palpably feel that LTTR works within
historical traditions of political organizing,
social visibility and also uses tried and true
strategies developed by radical queers in the
past. The difference is we also are cognizant
of our own contemporary moment and
respond to it. In order to communicate and
enthuse our people we have to constantly
renegotiate our ways and means. LTTR
changes shape with each issue- new forms
for new content. Things like this. Responding
to the needs of people, to get back to ethical
relations.
JD: Yes I see how we can agree. But its
just semantics that lets it seem(of course)
like misunderstanding. In reality we both
seek and serve to make a dance move, or
a feeling in the room. Ecstaticismif thats
a word. A place whether it be literal or
gurative where people can be. Move.
Shake together. And create. No matter the
mediumor the headspace. I use these words
because my vocabulary isnt as full. When
I say community I mean everything you
just said plus more of course. But I use the
word because I feel that many other people
also understand that word. And however
problematic it could seemto you. Creating
your own denitions is powerful but we have
to make sure that we can all understand each
other. Forming the language together. And
adding the sensitivity to understand that
some peoples word choice is part of their
own personal history and that sometimes
with simplicity is power.
ER: We speak fromdifferent stages. Mine is
minimal and yours has a thousand youths
sweaty in front of it. Thats the difference,
and I respect it immensely. I love every
show you play where you call it and tell
it. When you say community at the music
festival or in your Deitch projects installation.
Expressing the possibility of togetherness
to people who need to know that more
than one is they. But I amobsessed with
language and take great pleasure in using it
deliberately. Choosing when to be loose and
playful and knowing when the consequences
are truly high on controlling our own
identications and mandates. Language
actually emanates formour bodies. When
we speak things become real. That is an
incredibly intense power made mundane. I
enjoy it.
My minimal stages are opportunities to
reinvest common forms with subversive
content.
JD: It is true. I see that through your editorial
and curatorial work with LTTR journals as
well as LTTR screenings, gallery exhibitions,
live music shows, lectures, and parties that
you are dedicated to gathering. To nding
a group of artists with similar politics and
creating a literal space for their work and
for their conversation. To me, this has been
an integral part of the queer and feminist
art community over the past four years. You
(Opposite page, clockwise from top)
Installation shot with text installation of Hot
Topic at Center for Curatorial Studies, Bard
College. Curator Amy Mackie organized a show
incorporating the individual and collective works
with the artists of LTTR and Ridykeulous (AL
Steiner and Nicole Eisenmen). Pictured is Emily
Roysdons video POW on monitor, LTTR text on
wall, reading table with axe and Ginger Brooks
Takahashis quilt An Army of Lovers Can Not Fail.
Band, Lesbians on Ecstasy from Montreal play
inside a rainbow rv constructed out of wood and
foam core as part of JDs Lesbian Utopia Show at
Deitch Projects in New York City.
The enjoyment of lesbians at Deitch Projects
opening of JDs Lesbian Utopia in New York
City 2005.
My Barbarian performs for TNT (The
National Threatre) at Emily Roysdons
MFA show at UCLAs New Wight Gallery.
Video still from Emily Roysdons social
movement, a silent seven-minute color
single channel video.
(This page)
An excerpt from jd samsons untitled:
for emily, l999. ModoI for wnII hIm on
newsprint with colored pencil.
February photo from JDs Lesbian Utopia
Calendar 2005. Featuring JD Sasha
Anthome and Lex Vaughn.
Model of Lesbian Utopia RV built by JD in
2005 out of wood and painted cardboard.
Rimbaud, and posing all over the streets of New York.
In your version you literally wear Davids mask and nd
yourself in such similar situations 15 years later in New
York City. I wonder also, if you ever create work that
is confrontational to another artists work instead of
celebratory.
ER: My David Wojnarowicz project was my rst big one.
I learned about being an artist fromhim, he inspired
me in his anger and urgency. I wasnt really ever able
to feel those feelings growing up, unlike people who
are currently my peers and allies. I didnt go through
punk. I was so repressed I didnt even know people
had feelings until I was about 20. Several of my best
friends had died, in separate accidents, when I was
a kid. Maybe I could have gone punk with rage, but I
was already predisposed to being peaceful. I identied
with David because he was making work about AIDS
and the communities of queers who were loosing an
entire generation of friends and lovers. I related to this
overwhelming loss, in the way that it redenes your
life. My David project wasnt really about loss though,
it was about how productive my identication with
himbecame, across sex and gender boundaries. I re-
conceptualized his project for contemporary queer
politics.
There is still a lot I amtrying to gure out about how
to be the artist I want to be. Mostly involved with the
use of text. And more freely allowing visual input into
my process. I know that I amgreatly inuenced by my
surroundings, we all are. There are regional drawing
styles, and color pallets. Feminists are no different! But
I never feel confrontational. Its my point again about
labor. I dont believe in independent genius original
artists. In most cases its a group of people believing
and circulating ideas amongst each other and some
works become iconic and the people associated with
them. Ideas are collectively developed through specic
circumstances and then we invest our labor and poetry
to articulate our position in regards to it. Art as a
proposition.
Who is the #1 person you would like to meet? and who
would you bring back formthe dead?
JD: Well I would like to SEE Michael Jackson. And
I want himto see me. But we dont need to meet. I
just kind of want to have eye contact with him. Thats
all. I cant really explain it. And I really want to meet
Joan Armatrading, a pop artist fromthe West Indies
who was raised in the United Kingdomand worked
inuences of reggae folk and rock into her work. She
is extremely inspirational to me as a musician and as a
feminist artist. Her rhythm. Her vocal melodies. Wow. I
nd her to be one of the most incredible true rhythmic
individuals in the world.
As far as someone I would bring back fromthe dead?
Hmm. I have been thinking about this for a while now.
And for some reason I cant seemto nd an answer.
I guess I feel lucky to have not lost very many people
that I have been personally close to, so it is hard to
chose that way. And in terms of people that I dont
know I guess I feel like I cant say if I want themback
if I never met themin the rst place. But If I had to, I
would bring back Harvey Milk. Harvey Milk was the
rst openly gay City Supervisor of San Francisco. He
was a very important gay rights activist and politician
who was assassinated in 1978 while in his ofce. His
death spawned many riots across San Francisco and
the United States. I believe that he had a real chance
of making a difference not just for San Francisco and
California, but for the whole country. In fact he already
has. And continues to even after his death. Many gay
and lesbian groups and institutions such as the GLBT
high school was named after Milk. What about you?
ER: There are a lot of people I would like to learn from.
People to meet- I would like to re-meet my friend Emma
Hedditch. She is in London and we had one great day
together but I really think we have potential. Yoko Ono-
who is an intense believer in love and an enigmatic
performer. Christina Aguilera- surprised my friends?
But I aminterested with her woman power pop. Mary
Fallon- she is an Australian author of one of my most
treasured books, titled Working Hot. It is supremely
radical use of language and queer sex. Leo Bersani- he
wrote one of my favorite books and is a great thinker.
And of returning the dead- immediately return Eqbal
Ahmad, Gertrude Stein, and Rion Sanchez, who was my
boyfriend but whomI never got to know as an adult.
How did you escape childhood? Isnt it great to
grow up? I amreally enjoying it. Being responsible,
understanding time better. Like how much you can do
in a day or week, and prioritizing projects and lovers.
But I must say, it gets harder to be nancially secure as
you get older, and of course we will always be as queer
feminist artists!
JD: It was so hard for me to grow up. Grow out of being
a reckless teen artist. But I agree, I amhappier now than
ever before. Being responsible is my favorite thing ever.
Keeping my apartment clean. Saving money instead of
spending it on foolish things. Thinking about the future.
The process came to me pretty easily I think. As soon
as I started touring and spending less and less time at
home. I realized how important home life is and how
important keeping your own personal health, nances,
and sanity up to par is in order to have a positive life.
When you live on a bus for ve years it is possible at
times to completely forget about going to the doctor,
paying your bills, and remembering peoples birthdays.
But somehow, with me, I found that it is really
important to break that pattern. And oh it feels so good.
I think the difcult part is remembering that as an
artist you still have the responsibility to work. And
sometimes that means getting a job that you would
otherwise never think of yourself doing. Yes you create
beautiful theoretical work, but yes you almost must
remember that you are responsible for living. If you can
make your way as an artist and an artist only, hats off
to you. But I think it is important to remain honest with
yourself when you cant and dont think that you are
any less of an artist for taking care of yourself and the
people around you.
ER: What do you think we can be doing in the face
of obscene wars? I mean, our generation and our
community of people. I personally feel disenfranchised
fromcapital P Protest, with no sense of agency or
recognized/recorded voice, but also want to be a body
that is in the way. My depression while listening to
NPR does not sufce for resistance! But do our arts? I
think both of our practices invest in creating positive
possibilities spaces. Is that a bonaed strategy in these
times?
JD: I will never forget the day George Bush stole the
election for the second time. I woke up in Cleveland
on the bus after a long drive fromNew York. It was
raining and the feeling in the air led me to believe that
the wrath had not subsided. Our show was not very
stimulating as far as I was concerned. That was the part
I hated. I expected our fans to be lled with anger and
charged to keep ghting the ght. But something felt
dead. I felt like our audience had lost hope. And that
feeling that I felt was absolutely astounding to me.
I think we as political artists (if you will) are
disenfranchised fromcapital P Protest because for the
past 5 years we have found ourselves working and
working and working to see not very much positive
change. Our arts are holding together a community.
And they are our protest even if we have no time for the
capital P. I think we are doing a fabulous job as radical
artists to keep our work moving. To keep ghting
our ght using whatever mediumwe can. If we stay
together and stay positive, it is possible that we can
nd a place to t and stretch ourselves out and push
the cracks apart until it all breaks. Positivity for positive
change. Keep holding hands. Keep hugging. Well break
it open and take it over.
ER: How should we live in the future? I worry about
keeping our love together and where will we live?
Families and babies are happening to people around
us, but where will we all live? Farms and communes
and shared land- lets get real, tell me how.
Do you know of any role models to share for people like
us?
JD: Last year I traveled across the country in a
motorhome to gay and Lesbian RV parks and
campgrounds looking for The Lesbian Utopia. I
created a follow up calendar to my 2003 calendar that
documented the journey. Myself and four other lesbian
artists left New York City, all dedicated to nding the
perfect place to be gay. We met several women that
started womens land projects all over the country and
spent time, money, and elbow grease building the most
incredible spaces for themselves and other women to
inhabit. I was thoroughly inspired by these women as it
became a clear option for me to leave the urban spaces
that I have found myself occupying for the past ten
years.
We need to expand ourselves. Find nature again. We
need to dance in the forest as well as in the streets.
We need to remember that there are places to go that
arent New York, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Berlin, or
London. We need to move past the lines that have been
drawn for us. Make a party in the woods.
I often think about buying land with friends. Building
space to go for art. For music. And I think that this could
be an option for us. Shared land could be the future.
Collaboration to live. Of course we need to make money
rst. That is the part I think we all get stuck on. What
can we do to make enough to have our own space. And
create the art we want without becoming a part of the
business. A struggle.
have not only created a venue for queer
artists and radicals to show their work,
but you have created a space where these
artists and their allies can enjoy themselves
and nd ecstaticism.
ER: Like I said before- I/ we understand
ourselves by the way we are ashed back
fromothers. My whole life is about having
a viable community of rambunctious
perverted intellectual artists around to talk
to, love, work, and struggle with. Can it be
said so simply? Because it is not so simple.
I remember when we rst met. Well, when
we very rst met- should I tell that story
of karaoke and aggression and public
wrestling. Neither of us would back down.
And then when I graduated fromHampshire
I drove down to the city with Bridge and
ran into you the very next day in St. Marks
Bookshop. All the energy was there. Hardy
was in the city and Ginger was still in
Philadelphia but we were getting to know
each other. In those formative months you
started to tour with Le Tigre and I got into
the Whitney Programand we were on the
lesbian bar tour. Remember the blunt with
Queen Latifa in the west village. Well. I
amoff track. I aminterested in how things
start. I think what LTTR did was take it all
seriously. We knew that our community
was making important work. We respected
the work and presented it so that everyone
in the dialogue could see the conversation.
A great aspect of LTTR is the joy we all feel
in being a part of it, thats where the parties
come from. We were all so exible that
we could plan an event and ask amazing
people and they would come on their own
money to participate. The Lesbians on
Ecstasy would drive down fromMontreal
and the party was on! More recently we
have had opportunities to include lectures
and dance all under one roof in one evening
of performance. Sharon Hayes spinning
spoken word records, Eileen Myles reading,
Gregg Bordowitz talking on the war and
sexuality, Tara Mateik presenting SBI
We have had and still have the energy to
do all the leg work to make these events
happen. I think one of the reasons LTTR
works is because we have largely refused
capital. We sell the journal for only $10
so its affordable, we work mostly in
non-prot spaces and whenever we get
money we redistribute it to participants
and performers. We have never made or
taken any money fromthe project. No
advertisements to bankroll. Its a ridiculous
struggle, but to me it has been worth it. In
fact even now as the issue 5 (Positively
Nasty) call is out we dont know how we
will pay for it The rst big surprise benet
was when we all went to London for a
lmfest and gave an artist talk. Although I
believe that artists should be able to make
a living off their work, I think if LTTR wasnt
anti-capitalist it would have never gotten
the popular support with everyone working
for free to make something happen. The
four who edit and organize do it for the
same pleasures of the participants. Thats
an impossible lesson about community.
I hope it will last, but we see fromour
histories all the problems that confront us.
Is the bullshit in the music bizness the same
amount of bad as the bullshit in the art
world?
JD: Well lets put it this way. There is
bullshit in every business. That is what
I have learned the most in the past few
years. And as radical queer artists I think
it is our job to make sure we dont lump
ourselves into the business of our art.
The music industry works just the same as
the art world, the stock market, advertising,
McDonalds every capitalist enterprise
we know of. There is supply and there is
demand in any business that exists to make
a prot. One day it could be us that people
want, and the next it could be Limp Bizkit,
Nickelback or Damien Hirst. We need to
not credit ourselves by our relationship
to the business of our art but more our
relationship to our community of radical
queer artists.
It was extremely important to me to prove
to myself that as a musician I could make
records that were truly about art and not
about trying to please a specic audience,
which I believe is also a huge issue with
art communities in general. I think that we
sometimes nd ourselves giving in to what
the people want instead of what we want to
create.
This was one of the reasons why I decided
to make a record with Brendan Fowler,
(BARR) and Sarah Shapiro. (Two musicians
and artists that I have known and respected
since we all attended Sarah Lawrence
College together.) Our band, New England
Roses worked together for a couple weeks
over the span of a few years to record
a record called, Face Time With Son
which came out on the super indie label
DoggPony. The record was a combination
of folk melodies, piano, keyboards, synth,
drumpads and percussion. It was a product
of true friendship and real art. There was no
audience. There was no money. There were
hearts and there were instruments. Banging
into each other until there was a record.
And I feel so lucky that I was a part of it and
that we all had the same goals in mind as a
band.
This idea of an expected audience brings
me to another question that I have for
you about what you feel that you are
responding to when you create your work
as an artist.
I was wondering how much of your creative
process has to do with responding to other
peoples work. This can be seen through
your applauding of the work of an artist that
you love such as David Wojnarowicz, the
painter, photographer, writer, lmmaker,
performance artist and activist fromNew
York City who worked prolically in the
1980s. Your series called, Untitled, an
homage to David Wojnarowiczs series
Arthur Rimbaud in New York is a true honor
to Wojnarowiczs series of photos of himself
wearing a mask of the outcast poet Arthur
(Opposite page, from top)
A selection of Cass Birds outtakes from the Lesbian Utopia Calendar 2006.
Installation shots of Strategic Form, an 11-piece photo series with mounted
shelf and text painted on wall. Pictured is Brenna Youngblood, Sam Lopes, Matt
Johnstone, James Tsang, Larin Sullivan, Vishal Jugdeo, Katrin Pesch, Emily
Roysdon, Noelle Bell.
(This page, from left)
Digital picture from the set of Liting /le Socri[ce, n sovon-mInufo suor8 hIm
by Emily Roysdon.
Sasha Anthome assists Cass Bird while photographing JD outside a Gay RV
park in Georgia.