It’s been a couple of weeks now since I saw the riveting performances of those who participated in Jen Crothers and Kristina Lemieux’s Queer Arts Festival production, Reflection/Refraction.  Before the night of the performance, I knew the production’s format but I didn’t really know what to expect: the individual performance pieces were to be completely subjective interpretations and responses to one of five short queer films assigned to each performer.  These short films whimsically or charismatically provoked a number of ideas and issues associated with identity, gender, sexuality, intimacy and community. The films included galactic docking, “Miss Chief” dancing, choreographed “brother-herrd,” bus passing and Hawker anime.  The performers, having had several months to reflect upon their personal responses to the short films, were to share their reflective and refracted pieces with the audience.

The first piece was performed by the enthusiastic Ralph Escamillian, who started the show off with a baring it all reverse strip tease, which he described as being his response to the “stereotypes of homosexuality” after refracting his assigned short film, Galactic Docking Company.  The disco pop track “The Beat” got the audience in the mood and Escamillian’s energetically sensual display of layering clothes made me feel that this was now a revolutionary disco docking celebration.

“There’s more between the earth and sky than we can understand,” Mette Bach repeatedly projected.  Bach was assigned the short film Dance to Miss Chief which directed her, surprisingly she admitted, towards a desire to dance that has been something she has struggled with since losing a loved one.  Bach embraced her response to her assigned short film and gave a moving, insightful and honest speech about her loss.  Having lost my Mother recently, Bach’s monologue reminded me that losing someone does produce a period of grievance but can also produce beautiful art by which we can celebrate and still dance with Miss Chief.

The third performance swayed me back into dance mode when Tran APus Rex appeared on stage.  Responding to the assigned short film Herr, Tran APus Rex put identity, gender and sexuality back on the interrogation table by playing around with pieces of clothing, strip teasing and jumping out of a giant blue vagina.  Tran APus Rex’s performance piece, much like Herr, made me wonder about this performer’s identity but care less as to what that meant to me and care more for what that meant to the individual.  It was a lovely display of gender and sexual interaction, and I felt that Tran APus Rex had self-birthed into herr own.

The Bus Pass evoked a musical response in rising star, cellist Cris Derksen, who took the short film and reworked the scenes whilst creating an original electronically fused performance piece accompanied by her cello.  Derksen told the audience she felt some awkwardness in the film that she wanted to work out.  The intensity of Derksen’s music amplified the room in such a way that made me feel those thoughts circulating and consuming the film actor’s mind.  I felt a tension in the performance piece much the same way that I did when watching the film and in both, that tension had been resolved.

Last, but not least, came David C. Jones’s fishing fiasco.  Jones’s performance was a response to the short film, an animation titled The Hawker.  Jones focused on themes of love and loss and was inspired by the fish in the film to tell a story as a person at sea through a physical mime piece.  I watched Jones’s character spread ashes into a sea of water and cope with what felt like feelings of estrangement and a restructuring of identity.  Without dialogue and scene structure it felt difficult to know precisely what was happening but that was the magic of this performance for me – that in losing someone you might often feel lost and struggle with knowing the way or with knowing how to deal with your emotions and loved ones.  The grieving period of loss is different for everyone and I felt that Jones was successful in displaying a subjective and natural response to self-identity, loss and grief.

It was a pleasure to watch the queer short films and witness the emotions, responses and inspiration evoked in these five performances.  A good life involves reflection but a great life is formed through refraction.