A Conversation with Christopher Peterson
For the last two seasons, I’ve worked for the astoundingly talented Christopher Petersons as Stage Manager for his production show Eyecons. It’s been a rare and unique experience that few others will ever have. In my 25 years as an arts professional, Christopher is one of the most talented, professional, and dedicated people I have ever had the pleasure of working with. I wanted to touch base with him artistically for this interview.
MS: What is your definition of an artist?
CP: I believe that everyone is an artist. It’s just the degree that you take your art to. Everyone creates. Everyone is born an artist but some choose to make it their life.
MS: Which you have...
CP: Yes. I chose to be an artist. I’m passionate about my work. If it happens to be art, then lucky me. My mother was an artist with works hung in the living room. I was fascinated by them—really sensing the fact that she painted them. So, I was involved with art from an early age. I grew up in a very supportive environment. My family, my teachers—(Christopher pauses for a moment as tears begin to flow)—they knew I was gay. They knew I was effeminate. They knew that I had something special to share with the world even though at the time I didn’t know it. I was just a kid. My family always supported me—an amazing childhood.
MS: When did you make the decision to do drag?
CP: When I was three. When I knew what the differences were between men and women, I wanted to be a woman. In old home movies, I’m wearing a pair of my mother’s boots and her fur, jumping up and down. Mother says I was dancing to Nancy Sinatra’s “These Boots Are Made For Walking.”
MS: So, when you reference that in your show, it isn’t far from the truth?
CP: No, it isn’t. There’s always a grain of truth to everything I say on stage.
MS: At the age of 18, you decided that you wanted to do this professionally?
CP: Not just professionally, can I be candid? I really thought that I wanted to be a woman. I thought I was a transsexual, a woman trapped inside a man’s body.
MS: Were you living as a woman?
CP: Not at that point. I was doing drag at night at the club. I‘d steal my mother’s shoes—we had the same size feet—and a hair piece. I’d play Donna Summer’s “Bad Girls,” paint my nails, do my hair and head out to the disco! And that was it, that was what I wanted. At that time, Vancouver was the height of drag in Canada. I found work as a makeup artist and in 1984, I entered a major competition called “Mr. Alternate.“ Twelve queens competed in front of 2,200 people and I won. I started my career there as a professional drag queen.
MS: What factors have contributed to your success?
CP: Determination, hard work, and passion for what you do. I was born to be exactly what I am. I was not born to be a woman or a sculptor or to design costumes. I was born to perform. It’s as simple as that. I love all types of drag. I don’t dish my sisters in any way shape or form. If you’re a six foot man, with glitter eyelashes, a moustache, and nine wigs on your head and you’re having fun, well that’s all that counts as far as I’m concerned.
MS: What’s the difference between Christopher the performer and Christopher walking down the street?
CP: The last name. My real last name is Knox. Christopher Peterson is the performer. Fortunately, I have an off switch. Some entertainers don’t. When I’m walking down the street, ninety percent of the people don’t recognize me out of drag. I have anonymity which is a great thing.
MS: Tell me about your 26 year relationship with your partner James.
CP: Oh, I fell in love (Christopher, suddenly teary eyed pauses briefly)—at first sight. I said he’s for me. He was dating a friend of mine. I thought, “Well if he likes her, he’s going to love me.“
MS: So, is it more Liz and Dick, Lucy and Ricky, or George and Gracie?
CP: A combination. Sure, we have our Liz and Dick moments. He’s Lucy and I’m Desi —he can be a bit klutzy and forgetful at times. I play Gracie on stage, and he’s George. He writes the jokes, very good jokes. We are partners, in life, in bed, and in business.
MS: Occasionally, you comically touch upon hot-button issues such as “don’t ask and don’t tell” and gay marriage in the show. Are these political/social awareness moments for you?
CP: I’m not out to change the world, but why am I not allowed to talk about it? Sex, religion, politics—the three things you’re not supposed to discuss at parties! If I’m not a little bit political, I’m not doing my job. On stage, I’m a man changing my sex so it’s all about sex. I’m not standing on a soap box, but I mention politics sometimes. I have an opinion and I’m allowed to express it.
MS: Do you ever stop and take a retrospective glance back at the path behind you?
CP: 100%. I think you have to stop and remember. Mainly what I remember—oh, you’re going to make me cry again—are the people who have helped and supported me to get here that I’ve lost to AIDS. Without them I couldn’t be who I am today. Occasionally, I stop, look up and say, “How am I doing girls?” It’s their show too. Danny Love—please include his name, I promised him I would always keep his name alive—brilliant man and dear friend who helped me develop Eyecons. When I debuted the show in Toronto, he got to see it. Afterwards he said, “Chris, it’s fantastic. Now go sell it to the straights.” He died a month later.
MS: You lost your voice in the late Spring for several weeks. How damaging that was to your psyche as an artist?
CP: I think I was surprised at myself that I didn’t freak. Don’t get me wrong, I had some breakdowns, but I was totally in control of the situation. My doctor, whom I trust, assured me it would come back. It was like being suddenly blind, the only way I can explain it. People come to see the girls, but the show is my voice. I had to believe that my career wasn’t over. Otherwise, I would have had a nervous breakdown, so I held it together.
MS: If you could time travel back to your first year in the business, what would you say to yourself?
CP: I know exactly what I would say. Life is a destination, enjoy the f***ing train ride girl. Enjoy the view. At one time in my life, it was about getting to the next stop. I wasn’t enjoying the journey. About 15 years ago, I learned to do that. Just relax and enjoy it—and I did and I still do.
MS: We’ve heard it before, but this time you mean it, you won’t be in Rehoboth next year.
CP: Yes. This time it’s real, we’re moving to Vegas. We’re going to work a year on the West Coast. After 12 years on the East, it’s time.
MS: What is the essence of what you’ll be taking with you from Rehoboth?
CP: I don’t know how to thank Rehoboth and the people who have supported me in this town, both financially, by coming to the show, and personally. Almost every show, every bit of new work that I have done in my life, was premiered here in Rehoboth because it felt like family. Rehoboth is like home. I have loved ones here. Delawhere? Well, I know where Delaware is now. It’s an amazing community. Thank you, I’ll be in touch.
For more information and/or tickets to Christopher Peterson’s Eyecons, Hooray For Hollywood, visit www.rehoboth-beach-theatre.com or call the box office at either 302-227-9310 or 302-227-7303.
Arts Professional Michael Sprouse has over 25 years experience working within the fields of the Visual, Performing, Graphic, and Literary Arts. For more information, visit his website at SPROUSEART.com and follow him at www.twitter.com/sprouseart