Queerly Canadian, Essay Example

The Will Munro retrospective currently on display at the Art Gallery of York University (AGYU) illustrates the crucial role of community in shaping sexual identity while also demonstrating that queer identity is part of a constantly shifting, boundary-free world that sits on or outside of the margins of mainstream Canadian society. This position allows artists like Munro, who died of brain cancer in 2010, to reinvent himself through both his art and his public persona. Munro was well known in a variety of queer community not only for his visual art, but for his multiple roles as DJ, concert promoter, and queer activist. The retrospective documents his creative legacy from his OCAD graduation in 2005 until his death in 2010, illustrating Munro’s rejection of static labels in favor of an ever-evolving multimedia aesthetic that included paintings, textile work, mannequin tableau, and music gig posters.

The overall effect of the AGYU show is to demonstrate Munro’s commitment to bridging the gap between a variety of Toronto scenes including fashionistas, queer activists, punks, ravers, and DIY art collectives. This all-or-nothing approach echoes Judith/Jack Halberstam’s assertion that those on the margins of society, including activists and artists, “have long been on a quest to articulate an alternative vision of life, love, and labor and to put such a vision into practice” (Halberstam 2). This collection of Munro’s best-known and most well-loved pieces illustrates his own personal quest to “put the marginalized at the front of the line” (Boles). Although the art itself, especially the 100 pieces of colourful Y-front underwear which dominate the exhibit, strung as they are on a clothesline across the gallery, is reason enough to view Munro as a visionary force in the Toronto art scene, it is the reactions of his friends, fans, and the curious that best depict Munro’s impact. As Benjamin Boles wrote in his heartfelt obituary to Munro: “Many people long for a place where they feel they belong, but Will actually built those spaces–both for him, and for everyone else who needed it. Queer Queen West is a cliche now, but we wouldn’t have it without him” (Boles).

In publicizing the Munro retrospective, the AGYU sought to emphasize the link between Munro’s art and his place in the community as activist, artist, and musician. As such, the show was launched on the 11th of January with a “party bus” used to shuttle patrons across York’s vast campus to the gallery proper while also paying homage to Munro’s place in the Toronto music scene as a DJ whose Vazaleen Night parties created a “veritable community for everyone who didn’t fit into the mainstream homo world” (Boles). During my time at the AGYU, I spoke to a gallery volunteer who described the party bus as a club on wheels, complete with glitter, music, and a disco ball. The image of this rolling community heightened my own experience of the retrospective, especially after making the trip across the York campus on foot, a singularly alienating experience that demonstrated how easy it is, in a city the size of Toronto, to become lost amongst so much space. In contrast, the gallery space itself was warm and inviting, populated by a diverse mix of Torontonians perusing the display cases, video installations, and staring up at that magnificent line of underwear with the comfortable attitudes of those who feel a sense of belonging and welcome. Often, I heard patrons referring to the artist as “Will,” and whether that attests to the huge number of friends Munro left behind or merely the intimacy that his art engenders in the general public, I believe that it also speaks to the underlying theme of the retrospective itself. For Munro, everything was art: plain white underwear, torn photocopies, and scraps of fabric rescued from used clothing stores. This allowed Munro to put his unique and colourful stamp on a myriad of unconventional items, most notably the underwear collection for which he is best known.

Although there is nothing overtly sexual about the installation itself–indeed, strung across the gallery on a clothesline it is reminiscent of children’s clothing hung out to dry in a suburban back yard–but underwear is an incredibly intimate piece of clothing, worn as it is next to bare skin. In 1999, Munro told a reporter at the National Post that his underwear project originated because his mother wouldn’t buy him Superhero Underoos as a child. This brings a certain level of innocence to the project, despite the implicit sexuality in underwear, while also forging a bridge between the world of childhood (where silliness in underwear and other things is encouraged) and the world of adulthood (where plain white Y-fronts dominate). These pieces of “body-based architecture” (“Estate of Will Munro”) are made primarily of vintage t-shirts and old fabrics, again attesting to Munro’s DIY work ethic and interest in reinvention and collaboration.

I must admit that, prior to visiting the AGYU, I had never heard of Munro. However, after reading obituaries written by his friends and listening to his art fans wax profound about the important place that he played in their lives through his music, activism, and art, I feel a sense of loss and longing. For Munro, sexuality, transgression, and community had multiple meanings and often overlapped; this illustrates, perhaps, that people need not be confined to one singular representation/expression of their inner self and can instead, like Munro, reimagine and reinvent themselves and their worlds as often as they please.

Works Cited

Boles, Benjamin. “Will Munro RIP.” NOW, 22 May 2010. Web. 11 Feb. 2012.

“Estate of Will Munro: Inside the Solar Temple of the Cosmic Leather Daddy.” Paul Petro Contemporary Art, n.d. Web. 11 Feb. 2012.

Halberstam, Judith/Jack. The Queer Art of Failure. Charlotte, NC: Duke University Press, 2011.

“Will Munro: History, Glamour, Magic.” The Art Gallery of York University. AGYU, n.d. Web. 11 Feb. 2012.

“Will Munro: 1975-2010.” Aid & Abet, 24 May 2010. Web. 11 Feb. 2012.