The Rhubarb festival The: beautiful, sexy, electric artists "motivated to restructure the universe"

7 Feb 2024 - photos courtesy of Buddies in Bad Times Theatre

Every year I struggle to express the magnificent monster that is the Rhubarb festival. Now in its 45th year, it is more youthful than ever and bursting at the seams with experimentation, art, sexuality, comedy, horror and palatable and unpalatable politics. To try to convey the breadth and magnitude of this year's Rhubarb, we asked eight of the participating artists—Michael Martini, Anthony (Ani) Palermo (The Gray), Nickeshia Garrick (Obeah Opera), Lester Trips (Theatre) (Mr Truth), Tygr Willy, Elizabeth Staples (All For One For All), S E Grummett and Stephen Jackman-Torkoff (Richard II, Fifteen Dogs, Every Little Nookie, Trout Stanley, Towards Youth, Erased: Billy & Bayard, Botticelli in the Fire & Sunday in Sodom, Black Boys)—a handful of questions about their contribution. Their answers hint at just how much there is to be discovered and enjoyed at Rhubarb. 

Drew Rowsome: What is the title of, and the promotional hook for, your artwork in two sentences or less? 

Michael Martini: I'm presenting What if Hansel Consented to Being Baked Alive? It is a sort of pornographic retelling of Hansel and Gretel. 

Anthony (Ani) Palermo: She, Men, & the Giant F*cking Snake is a theatrical drag pop rock song-cycle about gender identity and sexual assault in queer spaces. It follows “She”– the mythological Greek figure Tiresias, a twink in the Village, and a multi-dimensional space bitch on a mission to find who touched their tits. 

Nickeshia Garrick: Find Your Rhythm is a multidisciplinary work that incorporates original music, contemporary dance, and text, and delves into the Akashic records. I invite the audience into a sea of dyed pages, asking: Why are you here? What matters to you most? Who is writing your story? What is your rhythm? 

Lester Trips (Theatre): Honey I’m Home. When full job automation pushes a person past the point of tolerable boredom, she uploads her consciousness into her house, literally. Body horror ensues. 

Tygr Willy: Thirst Nation: Chill. In an era where the dance floor is our medicines, bodies - hips - lips are our connection, and the extravagant expression of our art heralds in abundance. Thirst Nation brings forth a night-life experience like no other. 

Elizabeth Staples: Chez Moi. Looking to dance floors of the past to understand how to build the dance floors of the future. 

S E Grummett: For Rhubarb, I’m presenting a work-in-progress showing of my newest solo-show, Nude Parade, an interactive performance combining live feed video and trash puppets exploring my transgender body and what it means to perform queerness for consumption. For this Rhubarb showing, I present an hour-long interactive surgery session: think a live theatre version of the game of Operation, but make it trans. 

Stephen Jackman-Torkoff: Die Phantasie: Enter the Portal.. A local librarian named Lauren gets sucked into an old book and enters a world of unbridled sexuality and immense grief. 

Rhubarb is about playing in a “hotbed of experimentation” and “challenging notions of what art-making and art-watching can be.” What makes your work fit into that framework? 

Michael Martini: I work in the blurriness of DIY and rigour. I like to take advantage of the fact that we are all together in a room—strangers, peers, art-lovers—and make the experience both social and artistic. 

Anthony (Ani) Palermo: My piece experiments with drag, musical theatre, solo cabaret performance, and combines them with taboo subjects in the queer community and conversations about gender identity—through the lens of Greek mythology in a sci-fi multiverse—all in 10 minutes. It’s definitely a trip. 

Nickeshia Garrick: I'm constantly playing with ways to break the fourth wall in my solo works by devolving the responsibility of the performer and sharing it with the audience. I have expectations for the audience to be as accountable as I am on stage. 

Lester Trips (Theatre): In the spirit of chaos, we offer: painful furniture, raging boredom leading to bad decisions, the joys and horrors of the internet without having to look at any screens (NO SCREENS GUARANTEED), performers furiously running back and forth playing digital copies of themselves, and strange, bad dancing. 

Tygr Willy: Toronto has a vibrant nightlife and even brighter drag and burlesque industry. Yet, very few of these places carve a space for Indigenous excellence, joy, and pride. More so Indigenous performance beckons experimentation in that we consistently are a resistance. In our most sensual gentleness we’re a resistance to oppression. 

Elizabeth Staples: The Rhubarb Festival is my absolute favourite new works festival that happens in Toronto, I've seen some of the best and weirdest art at this festival. Chez Moi is less of an experiment and more a deep dive into history to challenge our present and future. It is a political call to action as well as a play that challenges the sit back and relax kind of theatre experience Toronto audiences may be used to. 

S E Grummett: Nude Parade relies on using its comedy to enlist and implicate the audience, before delivering its message. Because the thesis of this work succeeds or fails by how you (the audience) interact with it. This Rhubarb performance truly is an experiment to help me determine whether my message comes across and what’s funny. 

Stephen Jackman-Torkoff: My work is a poetic dreamscape odyssey. Once it begins, we have no idea what will happen next. 

How is this work an extension of, or detour away from, your artistic practice? 

Michael Martini: I usually work in collaborations, but Hansel is a solo. I'm really pushing my instincts as far as I can. 

Anthony (Ani) Palermo: She, Men, & The Giant F*cking Snake is an extension of my artistic practice to examine the intricacies of queer perspectives within a theatrical music-based landscape using spectacle, drag, glamour, and camp. The piece uses the genre of rock/pop music to upheave, destroy, and re-contextualize the confines of traditional musical theatre and create space for storytellers of diverse gender identities and experiences. I believe in bringing together the elements of music and a Dionysian sense of immersive party to connect the queer community. 

Nickeshia Garrick: Nothing I discover is a detour away from my artistic practice as anything has the potential to inspire my work which adds to my practice. In terms of an extension of my artistic practice, I am delving into written work, song, movement and spirit; honouring the past, present and future, which is the foundation of my practice. 

Lester Trips (Theatre): As Lester Trips (Theatre), we are obsessed with those liminal teetering moments of cringe when great hopes for all technology could be collide with the reality of how outrageously awkward and painful it is to have a human body trying to digitize itself. We are returning to our first love, physical theatre, after taking a detour through making a CBC Gem series, Content Farm. We are ready to explore why NPC movement is annoying and delightful. 

Tygr Willy: I spent three years as a youth curator for Pride Toronto Festival stages from 2019-2021. I’ve produced independent cabarets and artist immersive parties such as: Passion Fruit (2019-2023), Colour Me Now(2019-2022), Nostalgia (2021), Under Where?! (2022). Recently also my pirate parody show I co-produce alongside Qaptain called Our Flag Means Queer, and ongoing I’m part of a drag girl group called Rice Queens. So in many ways a lot of Thirst Nation is an extension, but it’s a focus to produce an artistic performance space that puts focus on queer Indigenous artists. Thirst Nation: Chill is for everyone, but those behind the scenes and on the stage and decks are all Indigenous to Turtle Island, or to neighbouring nations in the south. 

Elizabeth Staples: This is the first solo show I have written. I have co-written and devised theatre in collaboration in the past, but this baby is fully conceived by me. I taught myself some basic sound design and beat making (thanks YouTube!) and bought a loop pedal and a lil amp. I have always been very musically inclined but this is my first foray into sonic explorations. Writing anything (music, a play, a grant) is so freaking hard but so rewarding. 

S E Grummett: Throughout my artistic practice, physical theatre techniques – particularly puppetry and mask, allow me to move beyond my physical body and the assumed gender of its attributes. Puppets don’t have to have a gender, let alone be human. In my work, I am curious about using object-manipulation to explore trans/queer identities and this feeling of the “other.” I’ve also been drawn to comedy and clown as a means of disrupting and criticizing those in power in accessible ways – laughter often makes the best Trojan horse. I love to dabble in live feed video, audience interaction and trash-theatre magic. 

Stephen Jackman-Torkoff: I would say this is my main practice (along with painting) that not many people in Toronto get to experience. I spend lots of time performing in other people's work but this is where my creative power truly lies.

How does it feel to be working at, or returning to, the hallowed space that is Buddies? 

Michael Martini: I have lived in Toronto and I have lived elsewhere. When you are not in Toronto, you see how unique Buddies is —part nightclub, part theatre, part community space. Other cities don't necessarily have places like that and I believe it must be cherished. 

Anthony (Ani) Palermo: It is a huge honour to be performing my original work here. As a first-timer and young queer artist, I am thrilled about stepping into the history of Buddies. I have always created work for the queer community to start conversations, and Buddies has always been the ideal space to do that in. 

Nickeshia Garrick: I will be returning . . . it feels like the completion of a chapter. 

Lester Trips (Theatre): Most excellent, and we are most honoured. Our fondest memory of Buddies is performing our installation, Inverse Petting Zoo, in which we gave curious-octopus immersive dance experiences to semi-nude partygoers covered in watered-down veterinary lubricant. (It is available for bookings.) 

Tygr Willy: Buddies has always been good to me. I started my journey as a youth in their Youth/Elder’s programming in 2016 and was part of the 2017 production at Rhubarb and their final show that season. Throughout I’ve been a participant in that era’s Youth Cabarets before jointing leZlie Lee Kam as a co-facilitator for their monthly queer youth and elders conversations for a couple years. As an independent producer I’ve hosted several one off parties and cabarets beyond previously mentioned such as the Drop Deadly Gorgeous: the Pageant on 2023 where our kitten Kuya Atay won the prize! In recent years I’ve taken the stage as Tygr Willy for their New Years stage (2023) and Queer Pride weekend programming (2022-2023). So Buddies has always been a place to feel like a queer huh to return to. 

Elizabeth Staples: Buddies is a home away from home for me as it is for many queer artists in this city. To be included in the Rhubarb Festival under my own name this year makes me feel really proud. I have performed in the Chamber before, but not solo. I am kinda terrified, but I have so much trust in my team and the Buddies Production team. They are the best.

S E Grummett: I presented my solo-show Something in the Water at Buddies earlier this year. It feels so wonderful to be welcomed back by the Buddies team, particularly with something so fresh, new and scary. Nude Parade is also a commentary on the very identity show that is Something in the Water, so it really feels like a natural follow-up. 

Stephen Jackman-Torkoff: It feels really special. As an artist formerly in residence while creating Black Boys with Saga Collectif, it is very exciting to return with a major solo work. 

Is it important to your work to be in an explicitly queer space? 

Michael Martini: I am not sure. It is exciting and important for me to be able to connect with other queer people, whether audiences or fellow artists, so I appreciate the magnet-effect of the festival for that. I am not sure if the artwork itself is coloured differently in a queer framing. It probably loses some singularity or randomness, and the audience probably arrives with more readily-available references to see the work through. There's probably a higher chance of people connecting with the themes of the work through lived experience rather than voyeurism, which is special. 

Anthony (Ani) Palermo: Yes! This piece aims to ask questions directly to people who have lived a queer experience. What does it means to experience sexual assault as a queer person? What does it mean for that experience to be an awakening of gender identity? How can a trans/genderqueer person be the winning “hero” of the story despite the situation they are in? And how can I do all that in a solo-musical about a multi-dimensional drag-alien? 

Nickeshia Garrick: My work needs to take up space in many spaces, but, an explicitly queer space feels like home. When I'm at home, you get all of me. 

Tygr Willy: I build my spaces and artwork to be the representation I didn’t have or the community I didn’t have the opportunity to be within. So very much so! However my work can and should thrive in all spaces. 

Elizabeth Staples: We feel at home with the queer audience of Buddies and Bad Times. It's an honour to present this Lesbian history about the lack of spaces in a thriving queer space. In writing Chez Moi, there was a lot of discussion about how much of this culture should be explained or given context. I want to perform this play and assume the audience already knows what a bull dyke is. 

S E Grummett: Being trans in Saskatchewan is a much different experience than that of larger cities like Toronto. It can be a very lonely experience: I often find that I am the only trans person in a room, or that the burden of educating falls on my shoulders. I’m very excited to be presenting this new work-in-progress in a very queer space, away from the cis-het gaze that continuously perceives my body as something it is not, where I can truly “fuck-around-and-find-out” without having to make my work palatable or legible for a cis, straight audience. 

Stephen Jackman-Torkoff: Not necessarily but it feels good and comforting nonetheless. And I might be able to express myself easier which hopefully will make the experience better for everyone. 

What effect do you hope your work will have on an audience? 

Michael Martini: Hopefully nothing too unified. I hope the work is alive enough that it leads to different reactions. 

Anthony (Ani) Palermo: I hope to impact my audience by start conversations about sexual assault in the queer community and gender identity through the lens of music and drag. My piece aims to normalize discourse around consent and what it means to exist as a genderqueer person in primarily male dominated queer spaces. 

Nickeshia Garrick: I hope for my work to simply connect . . .

Lester Trips (Theatre): What a bad idea! I would NEVER do that! Unless . . . 

Tygr Willy: I hope for release, joy, safety, and for old connections to strengthen and new ones to flourish.

Elizabeth Staples: I hope that the audience gets to feel like the first time they ever walked into an explicitly queer space for the first time again. I want to evoke the magic of being in the middle of a queer dance floor and seeing your best friends shining in the lights of a disco ball. I want the audience to consider the barriers that queer women still face today, even in our own community. To quote Bob the Drag Queen: "Stop being mean to the Lesbians! We need them!" 

S E Grummett: While we are seeing progress in the bodies, identities and stories allowed onstage, these artists (myself included) are often being asked to perform their trauma onstage for the sake of educating the (often) cis, white, able-bodied middle-class audiences that come to the theatre. By bringing this show to Rhubarb, I hope that together, as audience and performer, we can unpack the “trauma porn” narratives that so many of us are asked to tell and examine what it means to tell our stories within a capitalist system. How do we, as queer people, consent to be packaged, and shaped to become profitable depictions of our identities? 

Stephen Jackman-Torkoff: I hope they feel beautiful and electric and sexy and motivated to restructure the universe.

What other artwork(s) are you looking forward to experiencing during Rhubarb and why? 

Michael Martini: Everything I can see I will see! Rhubarb is a gingerbread house and I will devour it as much as I can. 

Anthony (Ani) Palermo: I am looking forward to experiencing the other pieces in the Young-in-Craft Cabaret to see what the upcoming generation of queer artists are experimenting with. 

Nickeshia Garrick: Honestly, I'm looking forward to seeing as many works as I can because of the individuality, authenticity and heart that is brought forth by Rhubarb artists. 

Lester Trips (Theatre): This Hansel consenting to being baked in the oven business sounds really interesting. 

Tygr Willy: Chez Moi! Work by Nickeshia Garrick and Stephen Jackman-Torkoff.

Elizabeth Staples: Literally all of them. Go every single night if you can, you won’t regret it. I will shout out the late night programming this year, it's fabulous. The Young-In Craft Cabaret, Thirst Nation, Kunst Kids, and Amateur Strip are going to turn the party like always.

S E Grummett: I’m really excited to see my fellow prairie queer, Jaye Kovach’s piece I don’t want to see or be seen by cis people. From the title alone, I know I’ll love it. 

Stephen Jackman-Torkoff: I am looking forward to the work of isi bhakhomen, Tanya Marquardt and Jaye Kovach. I know these artists personally and am excited for the things they make.