Humor and Harmony: An Interview with Girlyman

Among folk fans, quirky, Atlanta-based trio, Girlyman is as famous for their warm, funny stage patter as for their sweet harmonies and nuanced lyrics. Friends since grammar school, band mates Doris Muramatsu, and Ty Greenstein started out as a duo. After meeting solo artist Nate Borofsky, the three formed Girlyman, and since have released four albums. On tour now in support of their recent live album, “Somewhere Different Now.” Ty took time out from touring to talk about the band’s evolution.

Queerky- How long has Girlyman been together?

Ty- Almost eight years now.

Queerky- How have you developed as songwriters over that time?

Ty- Well, we’ve always been acoustic, and we’ve always done three part harmonies and we always kind of crack ourselves up during our live show. I think our songwriting has evolved just because we’re older. For myself as a songwriter, I tend to not be as obsessed with myself; I’m more interested in writing about other people and writing about the world. As a musician, I always want to branch out as much as I can.

Queerky- What’s your writing process like?

TY- I try to make at least an hour every day. I had a writing studio built in my backyard this year which is a huge thing for me. It’s been really exciting for me to just have this space to go into and to have this process that continues from day to day. If you write just every once in a while, you find the stakes are incredibly high, because if you don’t come up with something great that day you might not be able to get yourself to write again for a while. If you’re writing everyday, and one day not much happens, it doesn’t really matter because you’re going to be back in there the next day.

Queerky- Girlyman has a seemingly very personal relationship with their fans - you post personal blogs, interact on your forum. Is that a strategic career choice?

Ty- Girlyman is just us being ourselves; it’s a very real experience. We want to give people the feeling that they’re part of what we’re doing so creating that kind of presence on the website is something we make a point to do. It’s more fun for people, it creates a sense that we’re still around and we can’t wait to see you again. It’s just like keeping in touch with our family. We’re an independent band; we’re on our own record label, so we rely on the energy sustaining itself. It’s something we can’t do by ourselves, there has to be some sort of continuous growing excitement in order for us to keep doing what we’re doing.

Queerky-You started out on Indigo Girl, Amy Ray’s indie record label, Damon records, but recently went truly independent, putting records out on your own. What prompted the change?

Ty- We were becoming more interested in releasing independently, at the same time, Daemon records was reconfiguring; Amy wanted to take time and figure out what to do next, plus our contract was up anyway. At first we thought, “Gosh, how do you do this without a label?” But it’s making more and more sense for indie artists to release their own CDs. We were excited about using the internet, making it the kind of grass roots operation we were already really familiar with.

Queerky-When can we expect another studio album?

Ty- We’ll probably be doing pre-orders in spring and a wider release later on, definitely this year.

Queerky-You’ve toured with a lot of great musicians. Any favorites?

Ty- Opening for the Indigo Girls was huge for us. We grew up listening to them, so it was incredible for us personally, but also their fans were just ready for our vocal harmonies and our lyrics, they just really got it. It was exciting for us play for these relatively huge audiences and have them really be enthusiastic.

Queerky- Girlyman plays on (fellow folk singer) Chris Pureka’s new album. What was touring with Chris like?

Ty- She’s the sweetest person in the world, really funny, and also a phenomenal musician. We did a little bit of collaboration and it was just a really good fit. It always helps when you can watch the other musician and have it fire you up for your own performance.

Queerky-What interview question are you so bored with you’d rather sleep with Sarah Palin than ever answer again? Don’t spare my feelings; even if I asked it, I still want to know!

Ty-(Laughs) You totally didn’t ask it. It’s “How did you get the name Girlyman?” I don’t know if I’d sleep with Sarah Palin, but I’d definitely rather not answer that question again.

For more information including tour dates and to read their blog, check out http://www.girlyman.com

Written by Sarah Terez Rosenblum

A freelance writer with an MFA in Creative Writing, Sarah Terez Rosenblum is at work on her first novel. When not writing, she supports herself as a Starbucks barista, figure model, Spinning instructor and college teacher. Inevitably one day she will find herself naked at Starbucks or trying to brew espresso using a stationary bicycle. She’s kind of looking forward to it actually.

Indigo Girl Gone Solo: Amy Ray and the Art of Letting Go

“My wife and I missed your show last night,” says a nondescript man. He’s first in line to greet Indigo Girl, Amy Ray at a Chicago Border’s in-store signing. “Our son got sick.”

Another man, not a day under sixty, carefully unloads a stack of Ray-related memorabilia, including a vinyl copy of her newest solo album. He folds his hands behind his back, and smiles as she signs each one.

In search of a landline on which to conduct our interview, I ask a friend’s boss if I can borrow a cubicle. “I can’t believe Amy Ray is gonna call here,” my friend’s boss, straight and suburban, squeals, “She’s like a real celebrity!”

Clearly, members of the mainstream can pick Ray out of a lineup; even sing a few bars of one of her songs, or at least one written by the other Indigo Girl, Emily Saliers - hers tend to get more radio play. But Ray is the Indigo Girl gone solo, the one hauling her own gear, staging a packed punk-tinged show at Chicago’s small concert venue, The Metro, pushing the envelope of queer visibility by showing the world (or at least those who are savvy enough to pay attention) another side of a forty-four year old lesbian singer/songwriter, the side that fucking rocks.

When Ray calls from outside Chapel Hill, she’s just taken a turn driving her tour van, byproduct of a stripped down tour. She’s headed out the other side of a Midwest stint that began with a broken down van and a missed Iowa gig. Back in Madison Wisconsin, she offered to make dinner for any audience member who could lend her a truck. “I make a killer sweet potato enchilada,” she said. Now she seems in good spirits, anticipating a break followed by a West Coast run, “Birmingham, Tallahassee, maybe a Mississippi show,” she says, “then out through Texas, the Southwest and up to the West Coast.” January 15th through February 7th if you’re wondering.

Not wanting to try Ray’s patience, I skip the lame background questions: “How did you come up with the name ‘Indigo Girls,’” (a serendipitous pass through the dictionary) and “Have you and Emily ever had sex?” (Absolutely not). Instead, I plunge right in.

Queerky: Didn’t It Feel Kinder is your third solo album. After making your career as half of a duo, what surprised you most about suddenly being a solo artist?

Amy Ray: When I started I thought [solo work] was just gonna be something I did a couple of times to experiment, get a few things out of my system. Then I realized it was as important to me as what I do with Indigo Girls. That was a surprise for me.

Q: Tell me about your writing process.

AR: I have a lyric journal, and when I’m in writing mode, which is probably about seventy-five percent of the year, I write maybe four or five days a week anywhere from two to five hours a day. I don’t censure myself at all; it doesn’t have to be quality, its just getting my ideas out. Then I comb through for nuggets of songs and I tape myself playing and singing along to different parts. The first part of the process when I read back through, I’m a little surprised at what comes out sometimes, but I step back from it and try to be really objective, so it doesn’t scare me like it used to. (laughs)

Q: As a writer I tend to reveal without editing and then be surprised by how vulnerable I’ve made myself. Can you relate to that experience at all?

AR: Well, when I sing live, it becomes a more vulnerable experience. But I just have to let go and be in the moment. I can’t be responsible for what my vulnerability is at that point.

Q: How has your relationship to songwriting as a discipline changed over your career? Did you always write every day?

AR: Right now on tour I’m not doing that. We just finished an Indigo Girls record so I’m not writing as much as I typically do. I’m just sort of on break to let things in. But no, I didn’t start out writing like that at all. I was really undisciplined. I believed in this idea that if the muse hits you, you write. I didn’t edit enough and I didn’t really work hard enough. Probably eight years ago, when I started making solo records, I started reading a lot about writing and talking to different songwriters and I realized I needed to create a routine around it and I did.

Q: Did that change your work?

AR: Melodically I still struggle sometimes, but I noticed that my songs got better, the images got a little tighter, I got more prolific. I feel like anytime you work on something as a discipline it improves. There’s no doubt about it.

Q: In terms of discipline, it seems like your vocal range has developed in recent years as well. Was that something you consciously cultivated?

AR: Earlier on, I just took my voice as the natural quality of what it was and didn’t work on it. I definitely didn’t take good care of it. I drank and smoked a lot and that’s not good for your voice. That stopped about twelve years ago. Probably five or six years ago, I started working with this DVD for heavy metal singers called “The Zen of Screaming.” I was listening to vocalists like Brandi Carlisle and Jeff Buckley who had a certain way they would break into their head voice. I started working on that, doing specific things around building my range. I talk to other vocalists and call this vocal teacher and ask her questions. It’s kind of nerdy; I definitely work on it a lot because I want to be able to go between screaming a punk rock song with melody within the screaming, to singing in a very strong but vulnerable kind of head voice. I want to be able to do both things because I’m writing songs that, to me, have both voices in them, and if I can’t do that it’s frustrating to me.

Q: You talk about how using your head voice goes along with the progression of your songwriting and all the work you do with gender.

AR: Yeah, when I wrote She’s Got to Be, I wrote it in that higher range cause I was trying to reflect a sort of quote unquote feminine part of myself by singing in that register.

Q: Speaking of gender, I have a theory that most lesbians-femmes included– have a secret male alter ego. If you were a man (and I’m not saying you aren’t) how do you imagine you’d look? What would your name be?

AR: Oh…what would my name be? Well, people call me Amos, so that’s probably my alter-ego name. I’d probably look about the same to be honest.

Q: Did you see how quickly you came up with that?

AR: Yeah I think because I’m so male-identified in so many ways it’s not a hard one for me (laughs).

Q: We’ve talked a bit about what it’s like to put your songs out and sort of let go of them. You seem really at peace with the whole process. Some performers, Kurt Cobain and Ani Difranco both come to mind, famously object to fans misinterpreting their songs. You use metaphor and history and personal experience to write really multidimensional songs, so I’m guessing you get a lot of fans flattening your meaning, maybe going for the obvious interpretation. What are your feelings about that?

AR: I think when Ani comments on that or when Kurt did, I think they had such frenetic fans who had a propriety relationship to their lyrics [which] probably made them feel like they shouldn’t have to be accountable for this or that. I don’t have that same intense experience. I really believe in letting the song go. I’m fully aware that people are going to have their own meanings for it. Obviously, it would upset me if people thought I was saying something inflammatory or negative or mean when I didn’t mean that, but as far as interpretations of metaphors, or taking the song and making their own meaning, or even reading into my life in a way that’s not accurate, it doesn’t matter to me actually. I don’t think about myself to that extent, you know what I mean?

Q: That probably makes it a lot easier for you.

AR: Yeah, I’ll sit and read a Louise Erdrich book, and in my mind I’m coming up with all these ways that it connects to her real life, and I’m sure none of them are true. I used to do that all the time with Bernie Taupin’s lyrics with Elton John. I just thought I had him figured out lyrically. It’s just what people do.

Q: What’s more likely to make you cry, books, movies or songs?

AR: Hmmm. Songs.

Q: And now we come to the meat of the interview, some very serious questions coming up. The L Word, positive cultural step forward or exploitative poorly-written drivel?

AR: (laughs)

Q: Or maybe both.

AR: (Still laughing) I might have to take the fifth on that. I think it’s both.

Q: Starbucks drink of choice?

AR: Soy Chai.

Q: Favorite season?

AR: Spring.

Q: Favorite time of day?

AR: Twilight.

Q: Name four activities you cannot live without. By activities I mean, like working out-

AR: Working out…being in the woods… I can’t live without… eating junk food and I can live without sex… for a while but not for more than a couple of years.

Q: Ok, well should I count that one or not?

AR: Um, let’s count that one.

Q: How many animals do you own right now?

AR: I have… five dogs and seven cats.

Q: How many is too many?

AR: I could probably fit one more dog and one more cat and then I’m at my limit.

Q: What’s your favorite breed of dog (although I’m assuming you go more for the rescues and the mutts)?

AR: Yeah, mutts are my favorite breed. I like around a forty-five to fifty pound dog.

Q: Could you have a relationship with someone with opposing political views?

AR: Not a love relationship, no.

Q: Speaking of politics, a lot of queer people describe having a circumscribed period of pure joy when Obama was elected, followed by deep disappointment, almost an estrangement, after Prop 8 passed. What was your experience?

AR: I was so overwhelmed that Obama won with such an incredible majority that for me, it didn’t dim that much, because I expect that this marriage thing is gonna be pretty slow moving. Even Obama can’t stand up and say he’s for gay marriage. The marriage issue is important to me as a human rights issue but there are so many other queer community issues that are important to me. I didn’t have high expectations, is a simple way to put it, so it didn’t blow my mind, but I think it’s important that people are speaking out about it. I think that’s great.

Q: I have a potentially dicey question for you. In mainstream culture, references to Indigo Girls, more often than not, appear as jokes. Like, Glamour magazine might write, “you’ve just been dumped, and you’re at home listening to Indigo Girls and eating a pint of Ben and Jerry’s,” or I know I’ve read belittling references in Maxim for example. Why do you think Indigo Girls end up a cultural punch line?

AR: Yeah, people say “I’m a closet Indigo Girls fan.” It’s as if women are only allowed this very narrow access to music and success, and when they do have it there’s still a sense of embarrassment about recognizing it or validating it. It’s about sexism, and sort of a derogatory idea of what it means when women express themselves. When you add homophobia on top of it, and then a band that’s been together twenty something years; when you have such an attachment to such specifics, you’re gay, you’re a woman, you don’t have an image like Madonna, you put all that together, and you have a very easy target. There’s a certain almost derogatory iconic status that comes along with that. In some ways you have to expect that if you’re gonna be outspoken and so politicized, so iconically who you are, you’re gonna get cultural references that aren’t always positive, and humor that’s the lowest common denominator. Sometimes it’s clever. Sometimes it’s subversive and even flattering in its cultural way. The only thing that bothers me about it sometimes is the reflection it has on society: It means we haven’t moved that far. The gatekeepers are still the patriarchy. They still think of rock or folk or country as sort of a man’s game as far as who can lay claim to some kind of intellectual free rights. It doesn’t ruin my day or anything. It just kind of is what it is.

Q: Again, you seem to have a really healthy attitude about things that are out of your control.

AR. I used to have a much worse temper and it didn’t do me much good.

Q: One more question for you. I think kids have really specific ideas about their adult lives. Like, I always thought I’d grow up to be blond. What sort of vision did you have for your life when you were say ten? How is the life you live the same or different?

AR: When I was ten I pretty much thought I was a guy, so that was shocking when it didn’t happen. But you know I’ve been able to come full circle on that. I really wanted to be a musician so I sort of pictured myself living in a rural area and playing music and that’s what I do. I got really lucky.
Except that she didn’t. No way is Ray’s success luck-based. Sure, Indigo Girls gained visibility in the Tracy Chapman-fueled half second during which folk music was marginally cool, but Ray’s continual presence on the music scene, her growth as an artist, the evolution of her songs and voice, none are accidental. Her success is a direct consequence of her ability to both channel her will-power and sustain an objective distance. In discussing the breadth of her singing range Ray says humbly, “I’m totally not there yet,” meaning she hasn’t fully attained the vocal goals she’s set for herself. However, Ray is striking in that while she has her sights set on further landmarks on her path toward self-actualization, she’s adept at harnessing her ambition, has perfected the art of letting go; she’s already farther along then most will ever be.

For tour dates, videos, sound clips and photos (including one of Amy in a prom dress) please visit her website at http://www.amy-ray.com/.

Written by Sarah Terez Rosenblum

A freelance writer with an MFA in Creative Writing, Sarah Terez Rosenblum is at work on her first novel. When not writing, she supports herself as a Starbucks barista, figure model, Spinning instructor and college teacher. Inevitably one day she will find herself naked at Starbucks or trying to brew espresso using astationary bicycle. She’s kind of looking forward to it actually.

An Interview with Beth Arentsen

New York singer/songwriter Beth Arentsen is the girl next door, that is if you live in an art school dorm. With the kooky flair for the dramatic and piano prowess of Tori Amos along with the thoughtful lyrics and business acumen of Ani DiFranco, Arentsen has moved confidently from her work as the lead singer in the jazz/funk/electronica band P-1 to her recent, more personal solo CD, Sap. Arentsen passed through Chicago in late July, alighting at the upscale coffeehouse Uncommon Ground where she took a few minutes to chat with me as the cafe clattered and murmured around us.

Queerky.com - I understand you attended Tisch School of the Arts in New York. That’s a unique school.

Beth Arentsen - Yeah, actually before I went to Tisch I was studying classical piano at Rutgers and I got really burnt out. I knew my chops were never great enough to be a classical pianist so I took a year off. I was singing with this woman named Liz Swados and she said, “You know what, I really think you should try this experimental theatre program at Tisch. It would incorporate your writing skills and singing.”

Q:- So were you interested in theatre?

BA - In my early twenties I was writing self-scripted theatre pieces about women. I would perform these pieces in character and then I would play on piano the song that represented the piece, like monologues. I love connecting with the audience through these more storytelling pieces. I really explored (acting) as much as possible. It was a natural progression where I went from acting and singing separately and then I thought, “Hey I can do it all at once.”

Q: - I read on your Myspace page that you’ve played to standing room only crowds at New York clubs like The Living Room. Does New York feel like home to you performance-wise?

BA - I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately, like where is home? Home for me is a few places. It’s definitely the East Village of New York but it’s also in New Jersey ’cause that’s where I grew up so I’m really drawn to the country and the ocean. And I spent most of my early life on a boat. My parents are divorced; growing up on a boat really influenced my life, so being on an island is really great because I always have the sea around me. I also love Chicago. I’ve been performing here with my other band P-1 for four years and I love this city because it’s so acoustic — it’s like a deep breath. There’s a lot more soul here right now than there is in Manhattan. (The New York scene) is a very commercialized, pay-to-play type of thing, not a lot of serious art in my opinion. It’s a touring town, whereas in Chicago wherever you are, at any club, there’s something interesting going on. Not that I look down on New York, but a lot of New Yorkers feel like, “Oh God, this is it. I can never leave. I’m here for life.” I bought an old house in New Jersey and I’m living there part time and people are like, “Are you nuts? You’re gonna change,” but I feel so inspired by nature out there and relaxed, so I’m actually writing more.

Q: - Speaking of writing, what’s your process like? Is there a certain time of day you write best?

BA - I’m a morning person. The first thing I’ll do is go downstairs and I’ll sit at the piano and I’ll just ask myself, “Are you gonna say anything today? Is anything gonna be there?” I usually write the songs that speak the most to me in like two minutes. I always write the music first and then I trust that something is there to be said. It just happens really fast again like with that morning coffee. I’ll be tinkering at the piano and then it’s like, “Wow! What a great idea.” But if I have nothing to say I’m not gonna push it. I don’t really put that much pressure on myself anymore. I might go to work or go to the beach. I sort of need to have a whole day, like start a little in the morning and come back at night. It’s like studying, you’re like, “Wow I really retained this and it’s even better and I can go forward here.” So, I’m good in the morning and at night but I’m very uncreative during the day.

Q: - You mentioned teaching. I assume that means you have a day job.

BA - I actually went back to work at NYU as the events coordinator for a couple of years, working with young artists. Then I felt like it was time to work full time on promoting my album and touring, but I still teach at a not-for-profit in Harlem. I created a music program for kids.

Q: - Back to your writing. As a writer, do you feel like you return to certain themes?

BA - Always nautical themes, again the ocean is so calming for me, so I think all of my songs about the ocean are very nostalgic, they bring me back to a place. I write about women. Women really interest me — characters and history. I write about this one woman Penelope who was a Dutch settler who moved to New Jersey and she was attacked by Native Americans who didn’t want any more settlers, and she was sliced in half, and legend has it that she pulled herself into a tree and healed and went on to create generations of families on the Jersey shore. Supposedly they can trace back that it was her descendants who developed my town. In the part of New Jersey I’m from, every street is named after these Native Americans, and you can find little arrow heads on the ground, there’s a lot of culture, but you’re not spoon-fed, you have to go out and find it and then you realize, wow, I’m on sacred ground here. I’m really intrigued by the cultures of the New York/New Jersey area and that’s in a lot of my writing too.

Q: - When you look back at your old songs do you feel embarrassed or do you feel like they hold up?

BA - A lot of old songs do fall out of favor. I did a demo when I was 25 but I only put one of those songs on Sap. But actually I’m rewriting a song that I wrote when I was really young, like 15. I found all of these lyrics sheets I used to write. A lot of artists will tell you that they just write music, play stuff, improvise, and that years later they incorporate all of that into new songs, so that’s sort of what I’m doing right now.

Q: - You have a pretty strong gay following. Was that audience base something you consciously pursued?

BA - Good question. I don’t think it was ever a conscious choice, choosing my fan base. Who comes to your first shows when you’re starting out - your friends, and they bring friends, and before you know it you’re getting invites to play everywhere and that’s basically it. I never purposely seek out anything. I truly believe that you surround yourself with similar folk who share your ideas and passions.

Q: - Changing the subject, I wondered how you think being a woman has affected your experience as a musician.

BA - You know it’s funny, I feel like sometimes when I’m singing backup in other bands or lead vocals for P-1, people don’t trust that I may have written the songs, and in the business I’ve had a lot of experience with guys who are wining and dining me and they just want to string me along, but you know in the first ten seconds. When I was younger I didn’t know, but at this point I’ve had enough experience to know when someone’s serious or when it’s bullshit. You can get abused if you’re vulnerable in this industry. I’m sure it happens to guys too, but there’s something about being a young female in this industry that they just wanna rip you apart. This business you know, it’s all about marketing and again people are like, “Women and money? No way!”

Q: - Is that really still the case?

BA - Yeah I think so. I think people are still like, “You need a good manager. A guy, an old guy…” But women, we can get a lot done just going out there and using our sass and charm and just, you know, saying, this is what I want to offer the world.

Q: - Other than being charming and sassy, do you have a specific business vision?

BA - Right now I’m on my own label but I’m hoping to secure distribution. I’m on iTunes and CD Baby. I’m looking to be in stores but I’m not too concerned with getting signed. I’m most concerned about developing my fan base out of New York, out of little regional pockets, and playing more retail stores, more store fronts, more indie cafes. If someone wants to sign me, if I’m lucky enough to have a label that will really support me and if I get to work with really creative fabulous people, that’d be great, but I’m going to be choosy.

Q: - You seem really goal-oriented and centered, like you really know your way around the industry. Has it always been that way?

BA - (Laughs) I was rolling around at the piano and in theatre when I was 21. I was like Karen Finley in mud and feathers, and I remember when I worked at Universal Pictures in the publicity department, one of the head publicists really liked me. I was 19, and she came to my show, and she brought a really important reviewer for the New York Times, and he wrote a synopsis of my one-woman show and he wrote, “I don’t know what I just watched, but I know Beth Arentsen has a lot of potential.” And at the time, I cried convulsively like, “Oh my God, he doesn’t understand my art!” But at the end of the day, someone saw in me potential. It’s character building. If I’d gotten signed to a major label at 19, God knows where I’d be. I had nothing to say back then, I mean I did, but I didn’t know how to say it. Now it’s like not only do I know what I want to say but I’m able to arrange and play my songs — performing is so different from just writing. Not every writer is a performer, and I’m in a really good place right now. I’m very confident, and even when I’m totally insecure and freaked out and nervous, I just know that I have a really good support system, and it’s just music. It’s not brain surgery.

For more information on Beth Arentsen, including tour dates, song downloads and her latest video for the single, Sap, please visit her homepage or her Myspace page.

Written by Sarah Terez Rosenblum

Sarah Terez Rosenblum spent the last four years of her life in Los Angeles and plans to return even though she hated it. She will be thirty in two years. Thank God she’ll have received her MFA in Creative Writing by then. That way, even though she’ll still be lacking any real idea of what she wants to do with her life, at least she’ll be massively in debt. You can contact her at zeret18@gmail.com or visit her at myspace.com/raininariver. You can also buy her a pony. She’s always wanted one.

Photo courtesy of Patty V Michels.

An Interview with Chris Pureka

Back in December, I did time at a feminist bookstore. Our music stock was limited, a little Ani DiFranco here, a little Holly Near there, however store policy dictated that we could only spin CDs from the artists we sold. As the holiday season slowly sputtered to a stop, our staff, exhausted and cranky from long hours, irate customers, and the constant pressure of selling enough product to keep the store on its feet for another year, could only agree on one thing: if we had to listen to the same artist all day, it had to be Chris Pureka. The New England native’s vocals, both stark and soothing, were at once a backdrop and a focal point for our chaotic shifts; they simultaneously calmed us and intrigued our customers. Needless to say, Dryland, Chris Pureka’s latest release, was one of our top sellers.

While Driving North, released in 2004 is lovely; ruminative and haunting, Dryland, which hit stores in 2006, is evidence of Chris’s impressive artistic trajectory. As a writer, Chris travels ever inward. She manages to write from an internal place of intense vulnerability and specificity without ever excluding her audience. Instead, the personal nature of her music and the exactitude of her vision radiate out like spokes on an emotional wheel, providing multiple points of contact for her fans’ feelings and experiences to intersect with hers.

Recently, during a much needed respite from her grueling touring schedule, Chris took time to chat with me. We touched on a multitude of subjects, from her former job as a lab assistant at Smith College to her preference for boxers over briefs. However, it was this topic - the intensity of her writing and her consequential connection with her fans - to which we circled continuously back.

Queerky: First of all, thank you so much for taking time to talk.

Chris Pureka: No problem. I have a lot of down time right now. (laughs)

Q: Right off the bat I gotta ask you a serious question - boxers or briefs?

CP: Boxers.

Q: Now that we got that out of the way, let’s talk about your background. You have a degree in biology and you worked as a lab assistant. What compelled you to exchange such a secure, practical career for the quixotic life of a musician?

CP: I didn’t make the transition from scientist to musician overnight. I spent four years working in a lab but the whole time I was also working on music. I was aware of the ways in which having a day job was holding back (but) I didn’t actually leave that job until I was busy enough with music that I thought that I could make it work full time.

Q: Have you ever regretted that choice?

CP: (No) especially because I don’t think of it as irreversible. If in the next ten years I decide that I really want to do science again, I would do that.

Q: You list Gillian Welch, Ryan Adams, Patty Griffin, Kris Delmhorst, Peter Mulvey, Paul Simon, and Josh Ritter as influences. Have your influences changed over time? Who did you grow up listening to?

CP: Definitely. When I was growing up I listened to The Beatles, Simon and Garfunkel, Cat Stevens. When I got older I listened to a lot of the alternative rock that came out of the 90’s - REM, Counting Crows, Toad the Wet Sprocket. Toad was actually my favorite band in high school. I listened to a lot of Ani DiFranco too. When I got to college I was introduced to the smaller indie artists that hadn’t been on my radar when I was younger, Dar Williams, Peter Mulvey, Melissa Ferrick, Kris Delmhorst, Martin Sexton, to name a few. Since then, I have been discovering the Alt-Country/Americana and indie scenes so my most recent influences are folks like Gillian Welch and Ryan Adams.

Q: Talk a little but about your writing process. Do you write every day? Only when inspired?

CP: I am pretty far removed from my writing process right now, which is sad. I have been touring so much that I haven’t had any time at all to work on new songs. That is something that I have found really hard about being a full-time musician. Usually I’ll work on writing and playing everyday for a few hours. Then eventually riffs and melodies evolve into songs. Most of my songs do come from a specific point of inspiration or intensity. I definitely use music as a cathartic process and a way to work through something emotional.

Q: Do you find you censor your writing either because you don’t want to hurt or expose someone in your life or because you feel like your fans have grown to expect a certain style from you?

CP: I have always censored myself a lot - but it is usually just trying to keep the bar high musically and lyrically. I only release or play a fraction of the songs that I write and I like to keep to that standard. I think that people that release every song they write usually end up releasing a lot of bad songs. I am a big fan of editing.

Q: Your fans relate to you in large part because of the personal nature of your lyrics, but I assume your identity also contributes to their allegiance. How do you define and why?

CP: I define myself as “queer” because it has implications in terms of gender and not just sexuality and also because it seems more political in nature.

Q: I’ve heard your music characterized as “womens’ music.” How do you feel about that phrase?

CP: I don’t favor labels like “lesbian musician” or “women’s music.” I think that those labels have specific implications that tend to pigeonhole artists. I define myself as a singer/songwriter. As an out musician I have a specific relationship with the queer community and I am constantly grateful for the loyalty and support that I have found there. Still, first and foremost I am a musician. I happen to be queer. My sexuality does not define my music and I don’t write songs about being queer. I am also not writing music for the queer community. I am writing music that I hope that a lot of people can relate to.

Q: Lesbians make fierce, loyal fans. On the surface this is a positive situation, but I wondered if you feel like having such a strong lesbian fan base has held you back in any way.

CP: There’s this escalating thing that happens, where the queer community is extremely loyal and that can really deter a wider audience. It’s unfortunate that it is that way. I think even more mainstream people can find themselves in a similar situation. For example, I feel like Dave Matthews ended up with the reputation of having a frat boy following. I liked Dave Matthews but at a certain point, that deterred me from listening more. I feel like people get hit with a label, these are their fans, and people that don’t identify with that label get deterred from being their fans. It’s the same in queer culture. I’ve seen straight people really connect to my music and then come to my show and feel alienated and not come back, and I hate that. That’s a really strong word but it’s frustrating. But that’s what happens when you come out. There are a lot of queer artists who don’t come out and you’re like, “Why aren’t you out? Come out!” because if they all did, it would be less extreme, it would dissipate the effect, but because people stay closeted the people who do come out end up taking on all of the energy from the queer community. It’s just a theory, but I feel like it makes sense.

Q: You mentioned relating to the label queer because of its political implications. Do you feel like as a queer performer there’s pressure for you to be overtly political?

CP: Yeah, but I’ve come to terms with the fact that that’s not what I do. I can be insightful in specific ways and that’s just not one of the ways that I’m insightful. I’m interested in music for the sake of music, not for a political outlet.

Q: Speaking again of writing versus performing, I have this theory that the writing impulse and the impulse to perform are pretty radically different and that writers are not necessarily natural performers and obviously vice versa. If you had to define yourself as either a writer or performer which label would you prefer to own? Why?

CP: I think that you are entirely correct. I think that it takes some very, very different skills to be able to write versus being able to perform - and not everyone that is good at one will be good at the other. I definitely identify more with being a writer. I think that I am naturally a more introverted person, so the need to be in the public eye hasn’t always appealed to me. I used to get really nervous before I would play. But that just meant that I had to work harder at being a performer.

Q: As an artist you tend to produce raw, emotionally charged songs. What is it like for you to go out night after night and present such honest, vulnerable work?

CP: It is an extremely vulnerable thing to do to put your emotional and personal thoughts out there for public scrutiny. It is always really hard the first few times that I play out a new song. Sometimes the act of performing a song will be cathartic and feel almost necessary. But there are definitely times when I really don’t feel like I want to share my experience. Those are often days when I would rather just be working on writing.

Q: So let’s say it’s one of those days where you just think, “I cannot play Compass Rose, I cannot be this vulnerable.” Do you alter your set list?

CP: I alter set lists based more on if there’s a show where there’s a specific energy people are interested in. There are two kinds of shows I play, one is a listening show where people are being quiet and attentive - that’s what I prefer - so I’ll play songs that work in that context. But there are definitely shows where I feel like people are there for a social reason, and it needs to be a more upbeat set. There are shows where I’m in a really bad mood and don’t want to play but then I end up having a really good show. There are also shows where that doesn’t happen, but you just have to take it as it comes because we plan our lives three months in advance, and you can’t change your mind at last second.

Q: Back to performing, arguably a performer/fan relationship is largely one sided; a performer puts out work; a fan relates and responds, and ends up feeling like she really knows the performer. What do you think about this dynamic? What sort of relationship are you comfortable having with your fans? Has anyone tried to push your boundaries?

CP: People do feel like they know me in a specific way, and I get it, I understand it. For the most part people are really respectful. There have been times where I feel like people have crossed the line, for instance people will be like, “Oh you should come have drinks with us,” and that’s fine, but sometimes I’ll be like “Nah, I’m cool, no thanks.” And sometimes people will really press the issue. I don’t appreciate that. People I don’t know will e-mail me and will be like, “Do you want to have dinner after your show?” and that just doesn’t make sense to me, and the Myspace thing makes people feel a lot closer than they would have ten years ago. I don’t have a problem with people asking me to hang out, that’s not the issue, it’s more like when people don’t respect me or try to push me - even physical boundaries, sometimes people feel like they can touch me and I’m like, “Don’t do that.” Sometimes people will be like, “Can I have a hug?” and that’s cute, but if they don’t ask first it can be weird.

Q: Can you relate at all to where your fans are coming from? For example, are there performers to whom you relate in a fanatical way?

CP: Growing up, you know like when I was fifteen, there were people I really admired. I understand that side of things really well. I feel like if I met my favorite artists now - I can’t really say how I would feel if I weren’t a performer - but I pretty much would want to shake their hand and be like, “Hey, cool, nice to meet you.” Actually, one of my favorite songwriters is Ryan Adams. I was in New York one time and he came into a bar I was at, and I was so excited but I couldn’t…I actually felt so strongly about performer boundaries that I didn’t even say anything and I actually regret that. I feel like there’s a compromise, a middle ground that needs to be met, there’s obviously an acceptable way to communicate with someone you like, so I feel like my reaction was actually extreme.

Q: Let’s talk a little about the business side of things. Dryland is self-released - I’m assuming that’s a hard option, but probably a freeing one. What are the pros and cons of that choice?

CP: I feel like the way I’ve been doing things - totally independent, (has) been working for me pretty well. At this point I’m inclined to stick with that. I have to work a lot harder to get to the same place (as artists signed to major labels), but if I get there, I have a lot more control, and I make more of a profit. I’ve been doing this for six, seven years, and I see people who started a year ago and signed to a major, and they’re where I am now. That can be hard to witness. With a major, you’re basically paying for opportunities to get your music out there, which is ultimately what everyone wants. It’s frustrating when I feel like I’m overlooked cause I’m not a priority in the press or in the venues. But I want all of my decisions to be my decisions - that’s really liberating. I’m particularly interested in not having pressure to release a record at a specific time. I already feel pressure just from myself and my fan base to constantly be writing all the time, and if there was a label that was like, “You need a record out by October,” I would hate that and it wouldn’t work with my personality. Basically, I’m comfortable where I am, but if a smaller label came along, I would be willing (to sign with them) if it made sense.

Q: Can you take us through a day in your life when you’re on tour?

CP: Wake up, get coffee, drive, drive, drive. Get to destination, unload the gear, sound check, eat something, play the show, drink something, find a hotel, sleep: repeat. Touring can be really great when you don’t have to play a show every single night. If it is a packed schedule, then there isn’t really any time to enjoy all the cool places you get to go, and you are literally sleeping in a different bed every night. It is also very, very tiring.

Q: When you come home from touring is it a hard transition?

CP: Yeah, I think that when I first come home, especially if its been a long tour, there’s a little bit of adjustment that needs to happen. It feels weird to be so still all of a sudden. Now that I’ve been doing it for a long time, it’s easier, the adjustment is faster. But when you first get home from a long tour you’re always like, “I can never do that again.” A lot of people will do two weeks, then home, and that’s a lot more manageable. I mostly don’t do that. If I’m gonna drive to Nashville, I might as well do Atlanta and all the cities that are down there cause otherwise you gotta spend the money on gas to get back there next time. It’s always a struggle to be at a financial place where you can afford to take more time off.

Q: Well, thank you so much. I think that’s all I need.

CP: You could write my biography at this point.

There are certainly worse ways to pass the time.

For more information on Chris Pureka, including tour dates and streaming audio, please visit her homepage or her little corner of Myspace.

Written by Sarah Terez Rosenblum

Sarah Terez Rosenblum spent the last four years of her life in Los Angeles and plans to return even though she hated it. She will be thirty in two years. Thank God she’ll have received her MFA in Creative Writing by then. That way, even though she’ll still be lacking any real idea of what she wants to do with her life, at least she’ll be massively in debt. You can contact her zeret18@gmail.com or visit her at myspace.com/raininariver. You can also buy her a pony. She’s always wanted one.

Trans-gressions

Back in November when I was listless and unemployed, I had the audacity to ask the folks at the Reeling Queer International Film Festival to give me free, advanced copies of all the films I wanted to see (and review). To my surprise, they said yes, and soon I was loaded down with armfuls of films (in reusable, environmentally-friendly canvas bags, of course). The best documentary film of the fest was Sam Feder’s and Julie Hollar’s Boy I Am, which provides a critical and challenging look at contemporary trans issues told through the narratives of three transitioning transmen: Norie, Nicco and Keegan. Their insights, triumphs and hardships are punctuated by interviews with gender theorists, lawyers, and activists who attempt to clarify and complicate issues surrounding trans identity within the broader queer community and the world at large. The heart of the documentary is the voices from the transmen themselves, who come from racially and economically diverse backgrounds and who beautifully dispel the notions of trans identity as a “cop out” or as an appropriation of male privilege by rejecting feminism and butch lesbianism.

Such notable names as Mike De Luca (producer of Magnolia, Boogie Nights, Life as a House, Blow and Hedwig and the Angry Inch amongst others) have taken notice of Boy I Am. De Luca said of the film: “Boy I Am does justice in its exposure of the tragic double standard gender modification is held to in America. I am reminded of the very brave scene in All About My Mother where Agrado (Antonia San Juan) describes to an audience each and every procedure she had to become the woman she is today. As technology catches up to identity, still there are hypocritical collagen sneers. Perhaps, in their ignorant heart of hearts, they are jealous in their inability to be who they are. Men like Norie, Keegan, and Nicco deserve better.”

I was lucky enough to sit down with Sam Feder at a Chicago cafe on a recent faux spring day in April to discuss the film and some of the necessary and complex issues it inspires.

Q: What kind of reception has Boy I Am received, from the trans community specifically, because one of the major criticisms I’ve read comes from non-trans people talking about/speaking for trans people. You certainly give a voice to the three FTMs in your documentary, but what are your thoughts on tackling issues that directly and physically pertain to experiences that you haven’t lived?

SF: Some trans folks have thanked us -one trans youth asked for a copy to show to their parents before they came out to them-others feel frustrated by the discussion being presented. Ultimately, we expect a variety of reactions and are more than eager to hear them. We made this to promote dialogue. In respect to non-trans folks making a documentary about transfolks, Julie and I made a documentary that turned the mirror within our community; we discussed an issue within and about our own community - the dyke community. We have not taken an isolated event and presented it as outsiders. We are extremely invested in the issues we explore for social, political and personal reasons. As two gender variant people, a lot of these issues permeate into our lives. And, every aspect of the films comes from our stories.

Q: It’s interesting that all three of the guys you chronicled decided to go on T (testosterone therapy) and get top surgery. Do you think there is now pressure for FTMs to conform to the chemically/surgically altered body? Is there a cultural ideal that trans people feel pressure to uphold?

SF: Yes…I think pressure exists. As, Keegan states, there is policing within the community. He expressed there was pressure on how to be and how not to be a transman. As a non-transperson I can’t speak about personal pressure. The community I am part of has come a long way from the narrow definitions of what it once meant to be a transman. And that’s something I see celebrated and encouraged. As for all three undergoing hormones and surgery, we aimed to document a variety of trans masculinity, and worked with the guys accordingly, but this changed over time and the film ended with them all being on hormones and having surgery-we weren’t looking to portray that form of masculinity solely. And, the film is by no means suggesting that hormones and surgery are the end all for a transman. That was just their stories.

Q: Boy I Am does a really good job of bridging the theoretical aspects of identity with the lived experiences of those who are theorized. What role/relevance do you think theory plays in these discussions of gender and identity?

SF: The relationship between theory and practice is tricky to follow and work with. Ideally, theory needs to be more respectful, should reflect what’s going on in the subject being theorized, question what’s going on, and inspire dialogue. Theory is risky when it starts establishing norms and predicting what those norms should be. I do think theory is helpful in the sense that it gives us a vocabulary - a jumping off point. However, I think theory itself needs to be theorized more, that theorists need to take more responsibility for the role they play in people’s actual lives and not be so removed from it. I’ve heard some gender theorists express shock and offense when they hear the community critiquing them or even devaluing their work. I would think that would be an inherent expectation for a theorist and encouraged. Additionally, for many people’s practice, i.e. their lives, theory surrounding isn’t accessible and/or has no cause and effect relationship for them.

Q: I wanted to talk a bit about binaries and choice. Because binaries are almost always hierarchical-white is better than black, straight is better than gay, etc.- transgenderism has the potential to invalidate those either/or politics, which is one of the reasons why I think it’s perceived as so threatening. It’s the whole “you’re either with us or against us” mentality. How then do we respect choice (the choice to live as male in a patriarchal society, for instance) without destroying political foundations, alliances, and laws for our “protection”?

SF: I don’t see how respecting choice lends itself to destroying political foundations, alliances, and laws for our “protection”. Not respecting choice is policing within. How can we knowingly do that? Not supporting choice is the antithesis of feminism. Remember, “My Body, My Choice”?

Q: Another thing I loved about your film was the dialogue from girlfriends of FTMs. You don’t often hear about the odd reality of lesbians suddenly being read as straight and the implications of that identity/sexuality shift. How does a lesbian reconcile her sexuality without undermining her trans partner’s male identity?

SF: I think this is an important topic, and a touchy topic as well, for people because sometimes partners of trans people are seen as accessories-their sexual identity changes based on who they’re with. Speaking from personal experience, why should I have to give up my political identity or sexual identity based on who I’m sleeping with? On the adverse, how do we maintain our sexual identity when it’s inherently defined by the other person involved. Kate Bornstein has begun discussing an idea of moving self identity away from being defined by who we are with and turned back to how we see ourselves. I see myself as a queer dyke regardless of who I am dating be it a fag, femme, butch, transperson, transman or transwoman and so on…

Q: Do you watch The L Word? If so, I wanted to get your thoughts on Max, the trans character. Do you feel that there are elements of tokenization and/or unrealistically negative portrayals of trans issues on the show, like taking testosterone, etc?

SF: I have seen it enough to have an opinion about it. I was turned off by Max’s character because he was way too one-dimensional. A perfect example of how the mainstream media can be irresponsible when addressing these kinds of nuanced issues. I heard of young folks who feared if they transitioned they might become like Max. I’m glad they have included a transmale character (though I do wish there was more inclusion of dykes and butches) because I know it has started dialogue that wasn’t there before. However, in my opinion, it’s pretty transparent what the agenda in presenting Max was and that’s not an agenda I support.

Q: Trans issues are further complicated by the medical component. Whereas homosexuality was removed from the DSM list of pathologies in the 70s, transsexuality remains firmly controlled by medical and psychological technologies. To what extent does trans identity become inhibited by the medical aspects of body categorization, gender dysphoria, etc.?

SF: The medical community still dictates what a trans person is. Because of this, people have learned to tell doctors what they want to hear regardless of its relevance to their lives. And, essentially this just reinforces the medical component. As long as there’s a medical format, trans people can never have complete ownership of their bodies. As long as doctors continue to have this much control, transpeople will be denied a very serious human right. As a friend said the other night at a Q&A, “Why do transmen need a doctor’s note when you can get a shot of botox on a whim without a note saying, “you’re crazy”—which, maybe they should.”

Q: What are you working on now?

SF: I’m in post-production on a short narrative called “F. Scott Fitzgerald Slept Here” with my partner Jules Rosskam. And I received a research fellowship from Columbia College’s The Institute for the Study of Women and Gender in the Arts and Media to work on a feature length doc. That explores feminism. That narrows it down, no?

Check out www.boyiam.mayfirst.org for the latest news regarding the film, dates of upcoming screenings and for additional resources concerning trans issues. While you’re at the site, check out the Boy I Am blog, where the issues raised by the film continue to be discussed.

Written by Anna Pulley

Anna is a post-Creative Writing major and validation junky. In addition to Queerky, she also writes for dykediva.com, centerstagechicago.com and does film reviews for theaspectratio.net. She uses quotation marks unnecessarily and spends entirely too much time justifying the artistic merit of limericks. You can contact her at banannarama01@yahoo.com

The Many Passions of Danielle Egnew

To explain the myriad of places that Danielle Egnew puts her energy is nearly surreal: her professional titles include singer/songwriter (both independently and as frontwoman for the currently-on-hiatus Pope Jane), actor, producer, radio show co-host, clairvoyant and ordained minister! If that isn’t enough, her musical contributions are equally diverse, writing songs both for herself and others, creating a line of meditation CDs and penning soundtracks and scores for films.

Egnew admits that these talents and tendencies have been in her life since her earliest of days. “When I was born, my parents called me ‘Super Baby,’ she laughs. “It’s painted on the back of my baby drawers. I thought it was some sort of cutesy ‘oh-isn’t-my-kid-the-best’ kind of parent thing, but my mom told me the nickname was literal, saying I came out of the womb with incredible physical strength, a laser focus, and an unshakable sense of self. I don’t believe in limitations,” she smiles, “and apparently, I never have!” Much like the present day, Egnew admits to having trouble narrowing down career desires even as a young child. “When I was really little, I wanted to be an astronaut, and then a veterinarian, but I set my sights on entertainment, because I loved acting, singing, writing, or anything that had to do with being a performer. I’ve even done stand-up and sketch comedy with a troupe, which I loved, and wrote for them as well. The acting came first — I had two different full-ride scholarships for theater from two different universities. I actually wanted to be a film actress, which was an abomination to my fellow stage actors!” Egnew’s college and theatrical journey was sidelined after receiving a record deal in Seattle in the early nineties, she explains, “so I was on the music track for years with Pope Jane, then I got into TV and soundtrack composition, got a radio show, and a screenplay optioned. Eight years into music I got asked to be in the movie Changing Spots — so here I am, full circle, being a film actress, which is what I wanted to do in the first place!”

Changing Spots is a love-and-life story about two queer women - one, a former child star, the other a former rock star — and the way that each of their pasts intersects with their present-day realities. The movie is slated for release in May. Egnew confesses that she loved the opportunity of being able to challenge herself by acting in such a weighty role. “Changing Spots is extreme drama, and my character Peg is riddled with obstacles, from crushing physical problems to horrible career failures to wrenching emotional difficulties. You know — a day in the life of a typical lesbian! This type of character is like a fabulous all-you-can-eat-five-star-buffet for an actor, and I ate a LOT of Peg!”

Her involvement with the film came in many forms, from producer to actor to composing the film score and soundtrack, and she admits when asked that she couldn’t possibly choose a favorite task. “This is a really tough one to call for me, because I LOVE all the aspects of acting, composing, and the behind-the-scenes strategizing of being a producer on this project — but I would have to say that for Changing Spots specifically, my favorite part has definitely been the acting. It’s the most artistic, and the most organic. Composing the score is creative, but it’s a lot more structured.”

Fans of Egnew’s music will be thrilled to note that not only is she playing a musician in the film, her melodies can be found throughout. In fact, writer/director Susan Turley - when becoming aware of Egnew’s interest in the project — changed the script to make it more Danielle-like. “Peg’s character was re-written by Susan to be a former rock star, in order to incorporate my pop music. The soundtrack is comprised of my music, in different forms, and since I have done so many different types of music, from the pop and roots of Pope Jane to my own more acoustic tunes, there is a really varied emotional and tonal character in the soundtrack! Not to mention, I am also composing the orchestral score, and that is an entirely invisible character that truly shapes the feel of the film.”

On a personal note, the multi-talented Egnew admits that she is only partway through her creative journey and has a deep desire to dive into other interests on a professional level. “There is still so much more I want to do — I still want to finish my novels I’ve started, and get my film production company up and running to produce my own screenplay, Imogene’s Waltz. As soon as I can find more hours in the day, I’ll get right on those!” Life isn’t all blood, sweat and tears, however: she admits to enjoying her downtime, and one of the ways that she likes to relax is to spend time on the ‘Net, including Queerky.com. “I absolutely LOVE Queerky! What a hysterical and rejuvenating pit-stop on this long road trip called my life! It’s an honor to be included with you guys!” She also admits that she finds herself drawn to nature to slow her own pace down when the world moves too fast. “I’m wired to pick up teeny little variances in the ethers, and these vibes can really cramp my style. I have a host of things I do to balance that out, from running to the ocean, which sucks up a lot of contrary energies, to teas, to walking or composing meditation music. But sometimes it just knocks me flat on my butt, and I just deal with it with the least amount of drama until it passes.”

Egnew’s future contains everything from working on her next CD — an adult alternative disc entitled Red Lodge — to fronting a new musical group entitled Junkie Cousin, whose first release, entitled JC Superstar, is expected this summer. Additionally, a reality television program showcasing her clairvoyant abilities is in the works. She also enjoys spending time as a rotating co-host on talk/music radio show “The Music Highway with Sheena Metal” hosted by her girlfriend, former Howard Stern on-air sidekick Jenny Sherwin. Egnew admits that, however, that all things to do with art, life and love are most appealing and rewarding to her when they come with queer nuances. “I have to be honest and say that I am more drawn to projects that reflect my sexuality, especially if they have a romantic storyline. It’s refreshing and exciting for me to see intelligent stories involving two women, mostly because there is such a lack of them. I’m not saying that I won’t do non-gay projects — I do a ton of projects that have nothing to do with sexuality, especially in music. But overall, I do feel drawn to contribute to the art in our community, and the message that the art, whether it is music, film, or stage, has the power to convey.”

For the latest Danielle updates, streaming audio, screensavers and more, head to www.danielleegnew.com.

Additional links:

Visit Danielle on Myspace

Check out her band Junkie Cousin

Learn more about the Clear Pictures film, Changing Spots

Written by Denise Sheppard and Darby Blue

Denise Sheppard (scribe at shaw dot ca) is a self-employed journalist/editor who likes long walks, candlelit dinners and writing for U.S and Canadian national mags and websites. Her fave topics are human rights-related pieces and entertainment journalism.

Footfalls Beyond the Edge

It’s not as if Carol Anshaw is my idol. It’s not as if she’s my crush. It’s not even as if I’ve longed for years to meet her. She is, however one of several writers to whose work I connected instantly, whose novels I have read repeatedly, and whose turns of phrase have seemed to me particularly profound. Of course by particularly profound I mean reflective of my specific worldview. Isn’t that what reading is essentially about?

In theory a reader reads to stroll outside of her specific mental neighborhood, to allow the scenery there to change her. However, most often the lines that strike us, the paragraphs we underline, the passages that alter our lives, all resonate not because they are stunning in their novelty, but because they are somehow deeply familiar. And that familiarity can have unintended emotional consequences; it can cause a reader to feel unjustifiably connected to a writer.

Think for a moment about a one-night stand. I could meet a woman in a bar, take her home with me, and fuck her till morning. She might awake feeling connected to me on an intimate level completely unwarranted by the casual sexual encounter we shared. She might act possessive and insist upon making me eggs. Just as the language of interlocking bodies can be easily mistranslated, easily endowed with meaning more profound than it deserves; there’s something similarly powerful and misleading about the rush of familiarity and resulting unbalanced connection inherent in reading.

This is not to say that after absorbing Ms. Anshaw’s work I have determined that every time she uses the word “and” she is secretly asking for my hand in marriage. Rather, I am attempting to frankly admit to the internal discomfort that arises when a reader is given the opportunity to interview a writer to whom she feels sincerely connected but with whom that connection is entirely one-sided.

What follows is an exact transcription of both our external dialogue and my internal monologue. Although by this point I feel I know you well enough to trust you to differentiate between the two (after all, we’ve been together for two full paragraphs now-that’s like two years in Lesbian Time), I have helpfully italicized the rantings of my inner voice. Before we begin however, some brief background on Carol herself. She is after all the subject of this interview.

Born in Detroit and received her degree from Vermont College–author of the novels Aquamarine, Seven Moves, and my personal favorite, Lucky in the Corner–stories, “Hammam” and “Elvis Has Left the Building” included in Best American Short Stories of 1994 and 1998– a past fellow of the Illinois Arts Council and the National Endowment for the Arts–teaches in the MFA in Writing program at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago–has won the Carl Sandburg and Society of Midland Authors awards for fiction-three times been a finalist for the Lambda Literary Award.

Let’s turn our attention now to a Starbucks in Andersonville (a neighborhood in Chicago, Illinois), where Carol Anshaw and I sit together at a table by the window discussing, well, her while I think about, well, me.

So, these questions are all over the map; I’m obviously interested in your work itself, but I’m also interested in how you work.

CA - Oh, I see.

Why don’t we start with some process-oriented questions.

CA - Like do I use a pen or a quill. I do use a quill actually.

Crap, she’s funny. Well, of course, her books are funny. Does that mean I have to be funny?

You don’t really use a quill.

CA - I do, I use a quill. And then I put a wax stamp on everything I finish with my initial on it.

Okay, now that was really funny. Volley back. Say something about, I don’t know, Carrier Pigeons.

CA - and I only use velum, whatever the hell that is.

Or is that the wrong era? Maybe I should go esoteric-drop a reference to those kings who shaved their messengers’ heads and tattooed a message on their scalps and then waited for their hair to grow back and then sent them to a different kingdom and the other king shaved their heads and read the message and…did that even happen or was that a dream I once had after eating some bad shrimp?

CA -Then I bind my books in goatskin. So my office really smells.

Okay, no time for that-just go for the Carrier Pigeons.

So, you rent an office here?

I choked damn it!

CA -Yeah, I’ve always had an office.

You just write here?

CA -I just write here.

So what made you decide you wanted an office separate from -

CA - What made me decide was years ago I tried to write at home. I would wear my pajamas way too far into the day, get depressed in the winter…If I have an office to go to it’s like I have a little job? And my job is writing. The point is having a space where I only write. That space can be an office it can be a table at this coffee shop. Once I used a spare bedroom in a friend’s apartment. Sometimes it can just be a psychic space: you’re at your writing table and certain hours of the day you don’t pick up the phone, you don’t go online which has become a great sucking hole for writers, and you just write. I think you can build up habits. I’ve been writing a long time and I can tell you that almost everybody who was writing when I started out writing doesn’t write anymore. It’s very easy to stop. Other things intervene, people have a couple of kids or they get a real high-pressure job or they make a lot of money and they don’t write fiction anymore. So you have to write when you’re not inspired; it just becomes part of what you do. If I’m not writing I’m real irritable because it’s a very ingrained habit; it’s like coffee. If I don’t have my coffee in the morning I’m not that happy. If I don’t write I’m not that happy. But I think it’s not for everybody. People want to be writers but not all of them really want to write.

So, in terms of writing what does an average day look like for you?

Things are on track. I was worried there for a bit, got a little carried away with the Carrier Pigeons. Get it, carried, Carrier Pigeons? Christ, get off the pigeons already.

CA -There is none. I wish there were. If I have a writing day I think it takes me eight hours up there to maybe work three, you know? There’s all the, you know, making a cup of tea and getting my mail.

And you teach, and I read you reviewed books?

CA - I used to. I did for a really long time.

So, do you have issues balancing?

I’m starting every sentence with “So.” Why am I doing that?

CA - Sure, doesn’t everybody? I mean, Phillip Roth doesn’t. He works by himself, outside New York and he writes in a little house that’s behind his house and that’s all he does, he doesn’t have to teach or anything like that, so I don’t think he has balance issues. Alice Munroe lives up in Canada, in, not a reclusive way exactly, but she says that she writes every day for four hours or something. I’m always admiring of people who…they’ve really carved out that space, but for me, like everybody else, I have a lot of other things I have to be doing to be a human in the world and so…

Let’s move on to some questions about your work.

That was abrupt. Probably gave the woman whiplash.

In Lucky in the Corner - I recommended the book to a lot of people-

CA -That’s good.

Approval!

Yeah. A couple of women from Chicago read it and were thrown by how specifically you placed events. Like, this happened on the corner of Clark and Berwyn.

CA - Oh, they didn’t like it?

There goes the approval.

They got mired down trying to figure out exactly where events were occurring.

CA - If they didn’t live in Chicago they wouldn’t feel that way cause it would just be a set and a backdrop for them, you know what I mean?

So that detail was an intentional choice?

No, she wrote it by accident.

CA - Sure, I like to make a complete scene. How many people didn’t like it though? Like, 50?

Backpedal.

No, well, two women said the same thing, but they’re in a relationship, so maybe they just think the same way, like they’ve done the lesbian merge or something.

Threw in some lesbian lingo there to establish my street cred. Wurd.

CA - (Laughs)

Score!

CA - You know when you’re a writer you hardly ever hear that stuff. I went to a library luncheon and this old librarian came up to me, she said, “You know, I think your book is immoral.” Well, thanks for telling me that because most people wouldn’t say that.

How did you respond?

CA - Well, I can see where she might think that. Did you read Aquamarine? In the first part she thought that Jessie having an affair with that UPS guy while she was pregnant was immoral.

So, let me ask you a question about that book actually.

Now that’s a transition.

Aquamarine came out in 1992. Do you still remember what the initial kernel of inspiration was?

CA - Yes I do. Two things. One, sometimes I’ll be out and I’ll see somebody my age and they’re very different and I think wow, you know, they could be me if I had made different choices. So that’s one impulse. The other impulse was to write about somebody who had their big moment early on and then everything was kind of a long soft downhill slide from there. I merged those. I had to have somebody who had something important happen to them at around 17, 18. You know a lot of the choices we make that we’re stuck with the rest of our lives are made when we’re really least capable of making good decisions. So she had to be a piano prodigy or a sports star of some kind, and I’d been a swimmer so I used swimming. I love that book. I loved writing it. It was pure pleasure to write, it was so much fun. I always like when people like it, it’s an old friend.

And then Seven Moves, which came out around 1996, was essentially about a woman whose partner disappears and she then realizes that the partner was, if not leading a double life, at least keeping a lot of important information from the protagonist. I know that as a reader one is not meant to focus on whether or not the author is writing from experience, but that book was so vivid and so sort of fraught with complex emotions…

“Fraught with complex emotions?”

…that I wondered if, within the fictional framework of the novel…

Did you have a girlfriend who fucked you over and then vanished?

…some minor aspects might have been drawn from life?

CA - Well, I have a teacher, someone I show everything to, she said I should write more into emotions, not glide over the surface, that I was extremely facile but didn’t really get down to painful stuff, so I had known of a situation like this that had happened when I was in my twenties. I worked with a woman and she disappeared and the husband was clueless, hired a detective.

Damn.

CA - You know, she left a pot of soup on the stove, she was making a quilt and she was mid-stitch…ultimately she turned up in the lake. It was during that time before he found out — it was months — you would have a ton of emotions but wouldn’t know which you had a right to. You might be angry, but you can’t be angry because what if she got bopped on the head by somebody, you know? It would just be an enormously traumatic time; it would be interesting to write about it.

How did you know when you’d mined the emotions enough?

CA - Well, it kind of had a time trajectory. And I like leaving a few–and I do this in all three books– leave a few footfalls out beyond the edge of the book.

Are there any specific themes that you’ve noticed in your work over time and do they change? Are there particular things that tend to inspire you?

CA - I like to think about how people go off the rails because of some out-of-left-field attraction, so that’s kind of a recurring theme. I’m also interested in sibling relationships. I have a lot of brothers in my work and I loved my brother very, very much and even in this new book he will be there.

Yes, you have a new book.

CA - I am just finishing my novel, Afternoon on the Milky Way. I think I’ve been working on it about 4 years.

So, keeping track of what happens on the inside of the book…

You mean plot! Say plot!

Rather, when it comes to plot, do you map things out in advance or just write?

CA - Yeah. With this one I did. But I don’t know everything that’s going to happen in the middle and I still don’t know all of everything that’s going to happen at the end.

Can one write without mapping?

CA - I don’t think it’s possible to write a really big book…they say Beethoven wrote all these symphonies in his head and he couldn’t hear them, anything’s possible I suppose, but for me I would get lost. I have to know what age somebody is and where their house is in relation– although according to your friends in the lesbian merge they don’t wanna know where anything is, they want that French anti-novel that takes place in a total void or whatever.

So, speaking of lesbians...

Fuck it. Clearly I have no ability to transition whatsoever. Good thing I was born a woman. Har har. Just some queer humor there.

Is being categorized as a Lesbian or Queer Author negative or positive?

CA - Aw, it’s both. I mean, I really really value my queer readers and I like to think I’m doing something for that body of literature.

You totally are.

Kissup.

CA - I feel like that’s a part of what I’m trying to do. From another direction, I’ll be happy when the world of literature is big enough to accommodate novels with straight and gay characters the way it does American and Chinese characters and you know, you don’t have to say “Lesbian Writer” like I’m having sex while I’ve got one hand on the lap top, you know? You wouldn’t say “Straight Writer.” You know, “Lorrie Moore, Heterosexual Writer.” I guess that’s what I would say about all that. Did you buy this little thing just for this interview?

The tape recorder?

CA - (Nods.)

Yeah…?

No I -

CA - You had it?

Yeah.

Think fast. No, think fast. The other fast!

It’s good for bootlegging Indigo Girls concerts.

I bought it to impress Jodi Foster.

CA - Oh, great. Yeah you know, I write with a quill and then I have a big reel-to-reel tape deck I have to bring if I want to record a concert. It’s really hard to get in under my coat.

Again with the funny! I’ve got nothing. When all else fails:

So…

And there it is.

I want to get back to questions involving process.

Right now, not earlier when it would have been logical to do so.

Are there specific things like exercises or emergency plans you use when you’re stuck writing?

CA - No, I never have any trouble because see, if I have a day where I’m not feeling like going further I can always go back. I’m an incessant polisher and adder to and taker away from and all that so I can do that for days and it still feels like some progress to me.

God, she’s this real writer. What the hell am I?

Do you ever get scared when you haven’t written for a while, like you think, what if I never write again, or do you have a confidence that -

CA - No, because I’m always writing -

I’m going to stop here in a minute, because Carol is about to grant me a perfectly worded conclusion; a sentence that wraps up our interview, and perhaps even epitomizes the life of a writer. In life, people say ideal last things all the time, but scenes bleed into scenes, and words echo less profoundly than in fiction. In this case, we spoke for another half hour, and I remained more carefully attuned to my inner monologue than to the insights of the woman on whose words I profess to hang. There was no final phrase, no ideal summation of all that we had discussed. After a while I got up to throw my cup away, and a homeless man approached Carol to beg for change. We’ll leave all that aside though; we’ll let Carol have the last word. And if you relate to that choice, if it resonates, makes you feel like I’ve read the words emblazoned on your soul as easily as picking out sentences on the back of a cereal box, I can accept that, it’s the nature of the beast. Just please don’t try to make me eggs in the morning.

CA - I’m always writing. I write as I go to sleep at night; I’m always adding to my book, I’m always living my life and living my book too.

Written by Sarah T Rosenblum

After living in Los Angeles for the last four years, Sarah T Rosenblum left to pursue an MFA in Creative Writing at the Art Institute of Chicago. She is now very cold and also she misses Lindsay Lohan. Incidentally, Sarah actually does believe that every time Carol Anshaw says the word “and” she is secretly asking for her hand in marriage. Shh. Don’t tell Carol.

Interview with Musician Courtney Robbins

From high school jazz musician and self-effacing garage band guitarist to opening for folk rock icons Dar Williams, Melissa Ferrick and Lucy Kaplansky, Courtney Robbins’ muscular rhythms and melodic grace are impossible not to tap along to. Infused with raw nostalgia and emotional urgency, Robbins’ music artfully blends the taut intimacy of an acoustic affair with galloping riffs and a fragile, folk sensibility. Courtney took some time out of her Sunday afternoon to talk with Queerky about her upcoming album, creating poetry out of politics and the repercussions of throwing a pie in Ann Coulter’s face.

So how would you describe your sound?

CR: I’d say its folk rock, with more rock than folk, more energetic. A little bit of country has been creeping in too. It just sometimes happens like that. I listen to a fair amount of blue grass and alt-country stuff like Dolly Parton and Gillian Welch, but I would have a hard time saying I play country music.

Who are some of your influences?

CR: Well, I grew up listening to primarily the oldies station, like The Mamas and the Papas and the Beach Boys. Then I started listening to more classic rock like Led Zeppelin and Janis Joplin. Then my sister tried to get me into the Indigo Girls in high school, but I didn’t like them at first. Patty Griffin, Joni Mitchell and Stevie Ray Vaughan are also up there. I know it’s kind of cheesy, but in a way I think we’re influenced by everything we hear - even stuff from high school jazz band, you know?

Oh, I agree. Speaking of high school, I have to ask about your garage band name “Some Idiots Afloat.” How did that come about?

CR: Some Idiots Afloat…how did we decide on that? We practiced in our drummer’s basement and his parents had a bunch of old magazines strewn about. I’m pretty sure it was the title of a Life magazine article from the 60s.

And you went to college in New York?

CR: Yep, Hamilton College. I was a creative writing major.

What kind of themes do you explore in your writing?

CR: Usually I tend to draw from personal experiences. Some of my songs are generated from stories I hear and think are relevant. I think actually my degree in creative writing has given me an ear for stories I might want to turn into songs, but I don’t sit down and think, “I’m gonna write this kind of song” unless it’s something that really caught my attention. I don’t write overtly political songs usually but I do think that the personal and political turn up some in my songwriting.

It’s certainly difficult to make poetry out of politics. That’s why I’m always amazed that songwriters like Ani DiFranco do it time and again.

CR: I know! She manages to do it in original, interesting ways each time too.

I read on your website that you recorded an album, but haven’t released it quite yet. What was that process like?

CR: Well, it’s called “Red Sky in Morning” and should be done hopefully within the month. The title references a line from one of the songs. I was working with Dave McGraw, who’s also a singer/songwriter and an awesome drummer, Thomas Lord, who I met a couple times in Tucson. I went up to Vermillion Cliffs in northern Arizona last February and we ended up recording eighteen songs in three days. There are going to be twelve tracks on the CD, plus a hidden track. The whole process was totally laid back. We recorded right outside of the Grand Canyon, in a tiny community of about forty people. It was beautiful and relaxed and just quiet out there.

Speaking of relaxing, what celebrity would you most like to punch in the face?

CR: That’s a funny question because I immediately think, who am I to punch someone in the face? But…that said…I could probably punch Ann Coulter in the face, if I had to.

Do you remember those University of Arizona students who tried to throw a pie at her when she came to lecture in Tucson?

CR: Yeah, someone told me the other day that there’s still a legal battle going on with whoever threw the pie.

They didn’t even hit her. She ducked.

CR: Really? An attempted pie throwing! That shouldn’t count. I don’t see how they can still be in trouble.

Yeah, a waste of a good pie too. So how long have you lived in Tucson? Any notable differences between East/West music scenes?

CR: I’ve been in Tucson for two and a half years. I had mostly college-related music experiences in the Northeast, so it’s kind of hard to say. But there is the Northeast Singer/Songwriter Circuit which fosters more of a music community that the Southwest doesn’t really seem to have as much of, in my experience. But maybe it’s because of location- many of the large cities and colleges are close together in the Northeast which makes it a little easier. Everything’s spread out here and I’m still taking time to see to see how things work, getting my foot in the door. I haven’t played outside of Tucson much because I have a job and not a lot of time to run off to shows. But I did play a show in Seattle recently and some in Tempe too.

Do you think sites like MySpace have helped make the marketing process easier for independent musicians who are trying to get their stuff out there?

CR: I think it’s great. I didn’t know a whole lot about MySpace until recently. My friends were trying to get me to sign up but I was like, “Nah, I’m on Friendster. I don’t need another internet meeting place.” Once I started looking into it though, it was actually kind of cool. The music sites are very do-it-yourself and this whole world is at your fingertips-you can network, find other musicians, download songs, etc. I’ve gotten a couple shows through MySpace and when I was trying to find a place in Seattle to play I looked up this bar, the Conor Byrne Pub, that does women’s music on Tuesdays, which took me, of course, back to MySpace.

So what new projects are you working on?

CR: Well, let’s see. I’m going to try to cover my costs from the CD and to get more shows around Tucson lined up. Once I have the CD, I can tell people something besides “Well, here’s a crappy demo, but I don’t really sound like that anymore.” I’m going to try to get more shows outside of Tucson as well, once I have the CD in hand.

Check out Courtney Robbins’ music on her website www.courtneyrobbins.com or on MySpace www.myspace.com/courtneyrobbins

Written by Anna Pulley

Anna is a post-Creative Writing major and validation junky. In addition to Queerky, she also writes for dykediva.com, does film reviews for theaspectratio.net and writes profiles for singles on e-cyrano.com. She uses quotation marks unnecessarily and spends entirely too much time justifying the artistic merit of limericks. You can contact her at banannarama01@yahoo.com