Honoring the Self: an interview with Colin Martin
by Jeff Nelson
Some of the most interesting and exciting new theatre to play in the NoHo Arts District has been coming out of NoHo Studios, a small, two-stage black building on the corner of Lankershim and Magnolia Boulevard. Home of Artists Confronting AIDS, the studio hosts performances to packed houses of enthusiastic theatregoers. One of the founding members of Artists Confronting AIDS, Colin Martin has worked as writer, producer, director, and actor in the 1990s.
J: Tell me about your performance art.
C: Well, it’s a piece I’ve written called Virgins and Other Myths, which I’m workshopping with Artists Confronting AIDS at NoHo Studios. It will actually be performed at the Zephyr Theatre in March, with Laura Latham and Lisa Allen.
J: What kind of material does it deal with?
C: Well, it’s autobiographical, although I feel the idea of doing a one-man show about myself is really repulsive, on a lot of levels (laughs). I can’t stand all those one-man shows that get up and just kind of navel-gaze for one’s own benefit. If I wanted to talk about my life, I can go and see a therapist for that, you know, or go to a support group or something, and that’s not the point of this play. There are definite things that I want to touch on, and questions I want to ask, and things I want to examine. And in order for people to identify, or to have something be universal, you need to be specific, so I’ve taken as a starting point specific things that have happened in my life, and then used those as a launching point to do this piece. It’s a tough challenge.
J: What’s your involvement with Artists Confronting AIDS?
C: Well, I got involved with Artists Confronting AIDS through Michael Karm and Ron Edwards. I attended a production of Myron in February of 1993, and was so moved by it. I had read about Michael when he was doing Dust and said, “This is someone I would love to work with.” We met, and we had a really great conversation. We talked about doing a play, and we really hit it off. I admire him greatly.
J: Were you pleased with off?
C: Yeah, I was. I was pleased with off. I think the writing in it is brilliant. It’s a tough piece. I remember when I first read the script—Michael gave it to me the opening night of off—and I couldn’t read it. I started reading it, and had to put it down. I couldn’t get through it that way, and I went back a few days later and said, “There’s no way I could possibly direct this.” And, you know, a few weeks later I couldn’t get it out of my mind. I said, “I have to do this. I have to do this.” And it was one of the best experiences I’ve ever had in my life. Working with those wonderful actors—to be able to get honest, gritty, solid work coming in—I believe strongly in the integrity of work, and in doing the best that one possibly can.
J: What happened after off’s initial run?
C: Right. What happened was, after off ran at Highways and then moved to West Hollywood and ran there for several months, Michael came up with the idea of creating a series that Artists Confronting AIDS would produce—plays dealing with AIDS subjects—here in the Valley, because he felt there wasn’t anything in the Valley that had that kind of space for those kinds of works. AIDS. That takes a hell of a lot more denial to not be political about that.
J: I want to ask you about homophobia. Recently a straight friend of mine told me that I was homophobic, and that made me start thinking about shame. I think shame is something that’s a very powerful force in gay people’s lives, and keeps us from reaching our potential, it keeps us from doing a lot of things we might do. What are your thoughts about that?
C: Well, I have a lot of thoughts about that. I can understand homophobia because I have my own homophobia, and I continue to deal with insidious homophobia, personally, with other people, on a daily basis. In terms of gay shame, I think that there’s healthy shame and there’s toxic shame. And I think that often, when people are feeling “shame” about being gay, it’s often, I think, low shame, or shame taken on from other people, whether it’s from family members or society. That’s toxic shame, it’s unhealthy shame. Healthy shame is when the person in front of you drops five dollars, and you pick it up, and you notice that they are unaware that five dollars is missing, and you put it in your pocket, and you feel some shame for that. That’s healthy, because you have done something dishonest, and you should feel some shame. Hopefully, once you feel that shame, you’ll take some responsibility for it and take that five dollars out of your pocket and return it.
J: Does this come up for you as an issue when you’re doing theatre?
C: Oh yeah. Absolutely.
J: How do you deal with it?
C: I deal with it by being myself. By being who I am. And by being honest. By talking about it, by putting it out there.
J: One of the things about theatre is that it is very open, and actors are in a vulnerable position, and playwrights are in a vulnerable position, because they are putting themselves out there in front of people who are judging them. It seems like that takes a lot of courage, really, to do that, especially when putting the parts out in front of people that you might not feel so great about.
C: I think it depends on how it’s done and why it’s done. In this piece that I’m doing, I tell of a lot of personal experiences in my life; from being misdiagnosed with AIDS, to sexual experiences I’ve had, to being a prostitute, to becoming addicted to sex—I talk about a lot of these things, and tell different stories. The point isn’t for me to purge, the point isn’t for me to ask for the audience’s blessing, or forgiveness, or understanding, the point isn’t to glorify it. The reason I’m telling these stories is because I think that people can identify with the feelings around a lot of those instances, in a lot of different ways. The point, for me, is, in telling these stories, and in being specific about them, is to illuminate the circumstances around them. I feel very strongly about childhood, and the protection and safety of innocence. The value of that is something I feel extremely strong about. About justice, and appropriateness, and healthiness, and being honest and caring and respectful of other people, and of not victimizing others, or exploiting, or using others, or sexualizing others, or abusing others—I have very strong feelings about that, and so I’m using my stories to illuminate, hopefully, and to ask people, How did that happen? How did a boy end up being abused by this man? What led to that? Whose responsibility was it where? Where was there a breakdown? When I talk about being a prostitute, why did I feel that I had to sexualize myself and my needs? Well, because I felt powerless, and defeated, and overwhelmed by myself and circumstances. I wanted to take some control and responsibility. And because of a variety of circumstances, I saw sex as a quick and easy way to do that. And that’s not healthy. And I don’t want other people to go through that. And so I want to share that. I want people to start to question roles and attitudes and behavior.
There’s a lot of gray areas, and I think that’s what I’m trying to explore, the gray areas, it’s not black and white. For instance, there’s where I was sexually abused by a man, but I had initially gone with him, willingly, when I was fifteen years old. So there was this combination of, I went with him willingly, in hopes of being sexual with him, and I ended up being raped, he ended up beating me and raping me. So there’s that, you know. I had some responsibility in it, and so did he. Things aren’t black and white. And simultaneous realities exist.
J: Well, there’s a whole problem with relativism and morality, and whether or not there are things that are universally immoral. We have awareness that we need tolerance, but I don’t think we’ve figured out where we want to draw the lines of tolerance. And so there’s this searching around for “What are the lines?” and nothing is clear. And I think that’s one of our problems.
C: Well, it’s a balancing act, because different people want the lines drawn in different places. What’s difficult is to balance, to respect those people’s views, and principles, and at the same time, giving them that respect without allowing them to use those principles to discriminate, or build walls, rather than draw lines. Or build a fort, or a bunker.
For me, the idea is to be myself, to honor myself and who I am. And I really support other people, whether they’re straight, gay, whoever you are, to be yourself. Be tolerant of individuals—simultaneous realities can be accommodated, and individuals can be accommodated. ♦