TAYLOR MAC

Self-styled as a, “theatre artist and a traditionalist who is working as an insurgent against Realism’s takeover of Western theatre,” all with fistfuls of glitter, New York performer Taylor Mac is almost beyond comparison. And yet that is exactly what fuels his latest show, The Ziggy Stardust Meets Tiny Tim Songbook or Comparison Is Violence. Mac became incensed by a review that drew lazy bows between Mac’s ukulele playing and Tiny Tim’s, and his extravagantly glamorous drag routine with Ziggy Stardust, griping, “If you’ve got glitter on your face you get compared to David Bowie.” Turning irritation into inspiration, this show was born … but naturally, done the Taylor Mac way.

By the title of your show, it seems you think comparisons are not only odious, but have the potential to be violent. What do you mean by that?
I don’t necessarily think comparison is violence or odious but what the show is partially trying to do is to get the audience to consider the ways we use comparison.  I’ve found comparisons are often used to reduce a complex person or happening into something easily consumable.  What happens when we take the buyers guide element out of comparing?

The show is presented as a conversation – what other theatrical devices do you incorporate into it?
I use conversation in a loose way.  Each performance is different from the next because I take into account how the audience responds.  Venue, performance time, world events, towns, weather, etc., all have an effect on the audience and how they can hear a performance.  If they seem to be getting one aspect but not another then I’ll cut songs, rearrange numbers, stop in the middle of a song and talk, interact with the audience so they’re able to get the whole picture.  It makes it so much more fun for everyone involved when we all feel like we’re experience a performance that’s fresh and in the moment instead of a one that’s locked into place.  When anything can happen wonderful things do.

When did you first pick up a ukulele, and why do you enjoy using it as an instrument?
I chose to play the uke in two of my last touring shows because it’s such an honest instrument and I was trying to get away from the cool posturing of instruments like the guitar.  I would argue the uke is the most honest instrument.  It is what it is.  There’s no hiding its dorkiness.  I think people are drawn to that.  Also, anyone can pick it up and learn a song in an hour’s time.  People have access to ukes and that liberates them.  Most instruments are hard to get access to. But ukes travel well, are relatively cheap, and are everywhere.   Still, as much as I appreciate and love the uke, I do want to branch out from it.  I play a little of it in the show, because what would a show partially about Tiny Tim be without a ukulele, but most of the show I’m accompanied by the piano and the tremendous Lance Horn.

In a review of one of your recent shows (The Walk Across America), the writer sees your influences as ranging from commedia dell’arte to Robert Altman and Wizard of Oz. What’s your take on these comments? Are they acceptable comparisons?
I would say my influence for that particular play was commedia and Chekhov.  But Altman was most likely heavily influenced by Chekhov so it works.  Most of my influences come from theatre but theatre critics often use movie references to describe theatre artists because they want to communicate to the widest audience and not every reader, sadly, will know Chekhov.  I don’t have a problem with someone saying my influences are most likely from something because guess-work and context is wonderful, but when someone describes me only in terms of others it does feel like they haven’t been paying attention and aren’t doing their job as a critic.  Charles Isherwood, in his critique, described my Walk… play in lovely creative ways.  He didn’t simply leave it at Wizard of Oz meets Altman.  If he’d had I’d be doing a show called Comparison Is Violence or The Wizard of Oz Meets Robert Altman (which sounds kinda fabulous).

Can you give us any sneak peeks into your upcoming collaboration with Mandy Patinkin?
Mandy is the most generous performer I’ve ever worked with.  He’s a tremendous talent and we have such a great time singing together.  Our collaboration is so odd and on the surface it seems like two opposites who should never meet but something magical happens when we sing together.  I can’t wait to bring it to OZ.

You’ve said elsewhere that you like Australian audiences because they are open and game. Why do you think that is?
Australian audiences enter the theatre expecting a good time as opposed to expecting you to prove your worth.  What this means is the show, in Australia, can start right from the get-go.  Usually, if a city or town isn’t familiar with my work I have to convince the audience to come along with me (which I do and we have a great time but it’s certainly more work), not true in Australia.  You guys assume that if I’m up there I have something to offer.  It’s a great treat.  And you have sense of humor and don’t take things too seriously (which is a dream for a performer who utilises some improv in each performance).  The best way I can describe it is in a Melbourne show I did a couple years ago there was an extremely attractive man in the audience who I called up on stage.  We did a little bit together and I sent him back to his seat.  A woman in the seat next to him squeezed his arm and I said to them, “Think of me when you make love tonight”.  She shouted back, “He’s my brother”.  I replied, “Have you seen your brother?  You might consider breaking a few taboos.”  Normally an incest joke would shut a few people down in the audience and I’d have to work to get them back but the Melbourne crowd howled (as did the sister and brother).  I don’t know why you are the way you are but it’ll keep me flying those 24 hour flights to get to you (as long as you’ll keep having me).

Your show is on the Mardi Gras line-up. Is this your first Mardi Gras? Anything else you are looking forward to doing in Sydney?
It is my first Mardi Gras.  I’m terrified I’ll get Paris Syndrome in Sydney from so much drag over stimulation.  But I’ll risk it.

Feb 25-Mar 4, Studio, Sydney Opera House, $25-35, 9250 7777, sydneyoperahouse.com