Cassils: On Violence, Witnessing, and the Making of Trans Worlds

Structured to respond to the thematics emerging from the forum "Queer Trans Culture and Invention Beyond Visibility: Experiencing Cassils," the following transcript is a conversation between E. Cram and Cassils that took place in September of 2018.

Interview

E. CRAM (EC):

Cassils, you describe yourself as a visual artist. Can you describe how you make sense of the visual in the context of queer art?

CASSILS (CS):

Yes, I think the visual is kind of a double-edged sword. And so, I think of it in two ways. Earlier on, I think I was drawn to creating images that I myself was not seeing reflected in society. There were certain gaps in the world, and for me it was really about trying to create the reflections of the community around me that I didn't see being represented. So, there was a desire to want to create these sort of self-empowered, self-authored, images with agency. And I'd say that that was my impetus initially, but then of course as subjectivities emerge … so for example when I think of trans years I feel like it's talking about dog years, so much, in such a short amount of time, right?

EC:

Of course.

CS:

So, think about 2011, when I made Cuts: A Traditional Sculpture. There was no word for nonbinary. I don't think that was even a concept that had ever been articulated to me. The closest thing I got to it was reading Paul Preciado's Testo-junkies, but other than that I wasn't seeing this kind of dialogue at all. And so, when I made Homage to Benglis, I actually had a trans guy who'd been on T for twenty years come up to me and say "y'know if I'd seen this image maybe ten or fifteen years ago, I might have made different choices about my body." So, I think it's about offering up a variety of images that allow people the sense that there is choice, and not only choice but that one has the agency to self-determine.

EC:

Yeah, yeah.

CS:

But, due to the trans-dog-year thing, back to that again, as time unfolds very quickly, trans people have become commodified. There's, y'know, Macy's ads featuring trans people, there's incredible marketing campaigns that seek out trans folks as a certain demographic, to be now usurped into a capitalist system. There's also this idea of trans inclusion, which becomes a sort-of neoliberalist marker of a supposedly open-minded society, but there is a very particular way in which that neoliberalist marker is being used. I heard a great quote from Cheryl Dunye, who was the first black lesbian filmmaker ever to get to make a feature film. When she was asked about being a token, she said, I love this, she said: "you know what you do when someone gives you a token? You put it in the bus and ride." And I thought, yes! that is true! But at the same point, there is a problem with visibility, and that problem is for all the reasons I just listed. And so I'm constantly changing my positions on what it means to be a visual artist in relationship with queer politics. And I think at this moment now, I'm thinking more about the idea of removing visibility as a way to get people to think about issues that affect not only queer people, but the America we're living in right now, and not get hung up on the sensationalized image of the body. I've been thinking about tactics for having more, kind of, empathetic discussions, more kind of awareness of the other, when you take out the markers of this meat and skin and bags and bones and clothing and all these things that signify our identity. These also can be road blocks, especially in this millennial call-out culture time that we're living in. And so I've been curious as to what...