The show is described as “a conversation between friends in their attempt to explain and uncover the aesthetic currency of queerness and how they themselves are subject to the ever-changing nature of gender, sex and love.” How would you try to define ‘the aesthetic currency of queerness’, and what does this mean to you both individually, and as collaborators who share a lot of personal questions and curiosity around identity and gender? 

JAY: The term queerness for me has never felt concrete, if 18 year old me watched this show they’d probably be mortified. It’s only through getting older that I have realised how extreme yet ambiguous the term Queer actually is. That it’s a responsibility to myself to continuously ask questions that will probably never be answered. As long as I am being true to how it feels, then at least I am trying to work it out. 

EZ: To me, the ‘aesthetic currency’ we speak of is the space that has been made available to queer people both personally and creatively, and the dialogue that we adhere to in order to be understood by the world. Queerness is now a term that is being valued in the arts scene with an intensity that often overwhelms me. The question I am constantly attempting to answer in my writing is what is authentic to me versus tools I've developed throughout my life to explain myself to others. 

Who are some of your inspirations (can be autobiographical elements) that have been instrumental in bringing your vision to life on stage?

Nick Cave’s ‘Ghosteen’ album

Aisatsana [102] by Aphex twin

Journals i’ve kept throughout my life

Lady Gaga

Antigone by Sophoclese 

Being a sad little kid 

Sarah Kane’s final script ‘4.48 Psychosis’

Our friendship 

And, if so, how has the performance transformed and developed since its beginnings? What thematic elements and ideas have emerged during the process of writing / staging?

JAY: This show started as a piece that centred around the confusion with gender specifically. It has always been autobiographical, but began more literally with direct sound bites from our private discussions being shared. Yet since signing onto Midsumma, the writing has developed into the marriage of gender, sex and love. Meaning the heartbreak felt with loving others, yourself and yourself with others, and how pain is interwoven throughout both experiences. Within it though, there is always beauty. 

How did you envision the set and costumes for the performance?

EZ: The piece is set in a bedroom - Jay’s or mine or anyone’s really. It’s cluttered, full of memorabilia, letters and gifts we’ve accumulated throughout our lives. We want this to be somewhere intimate the audience has nostalgia for and can find elements of themselves. 

In regards to costume, we sit somewhere between nakedness and binding the parts of ourselves that make us most vulnerable. The base of our costumes is a layer of bandaging, referencing restriction and constraint, which we layer with items of clothing that hold significance to the way we perceive ourselves. It’s pretty minimalist, but hopefully enjoyable for the audience to see how we visually shift through the show.

Finally, what do you hope audiences will take away from the show?

We don’t want people to leave somehow uncovering what queerness means, but rather see how the meaning itself is simply just confusing and shifting and can’t be contained. There are so many questions to be asked and heard, but usually never answered. The whole point of this show for us is that although we may not feel the same way in a year, it is the nature of change in oneself. These are simply moments of our lives. There can be a curiosity in chaos and we hope that it is something that can be unifying for viewers.