A.) How did you get the idea for your new performance piece The Sorrow Sponge and describe the piece:

I suppose I've always wanted my performance to have some sort of usefulness to it which is why i'm always doing research to have my oral work loaded with facts about science, biology, the animal kingdom, etc... but the sorrow sponge is my opportunity to have a real, forgive the corniness, healing property. The image of a woman with extremely large shoulder pads came to me in a dream and I thought about it for days before the words Sorrow Sponge came to me. I like the way it sounds and it's even better in French (L'éponge à soucis). The Now Festival in Nottingham had given me my first commission and they wanted something that would involve the community so I came up with the idea that I'd be a robot designed to alleviate human sorrow. The back story is that an altruistic engineer came up with the design and prototype way back in the 40s but he couldn't get funding to develop the project (as human sorrow is a useful commodity to the capitalist stuff machine) and he went mad. The robot was uncovered by his great-niece who is taking me on a tour of fairs and festivals. The robot has huge shoulder pads. Folks are invited to lay their head on the robot's shoulders and talk about their sadness, worries, etc. The robot has a microphone built into her flower brooch that records (i.e. sucks) the problems. The shoulder pads have speakers built into them that play soothing soundtracks and the robot pipes in with a series of tested empathy sounds. I'll be doing the robot thing for a few hours a day for three days driving to various parts of town in this fabulous ambulant stage/ trailer the festival got for me. The following night, I will do a live sound performance using the samples of folks talking into the robot's bosom that I'll mix and process using my arsenal of largely analog pedals. Oh, the robot also has beautiful handkerchiefs inscribed with quotes about sorrow that each participant gets to keep. I've done work that involved audience partipation before but I'm nervous about this one as it'll be my first one-on-one performance. Up until now, I've been protected by a stage, my machines, the lights etc...Luckily, the Now is providing lots of help and I've been able to hire an assistant. The costume was made by a great costume designer Geneviève Paquette and the engineering aspects were done by my genius friend, Mike Duemo.

b.) Describe how Montreal is more than a scene, perhaps a community?

I think it's hard for anyone on the inside of something to really see what it is, you know? And, of course, this is a big city so there are more scenes than one. The fact is that Anglophones are in the minority here so if you travel in that scene, it's like a village. And I work at the Sala Rossa which is owned by the same folks who run the Casa del Popolo and run the Suoni per il Popolo festival, so there is a network within that world that I treasure. Most everyone who works at Sala/Casa is an artist or a musician of some sort so it sort of radiates out from there that you meet all sorts of creative people. We're seeing a boom right now cos there is a buzz about the music scene here and tons of hipsters from the States and the rest of Canada are moving here. But soon enough, they'll figure out that they can't make any money here and they'll go away. Personally, I find the fact that you there's no show "business" here to be very comforting. It lowers the b.s. quotient. Artists/musicians live here because they are inspired by the place, not because they are trying to 'make it'. Other than Francophone acts like Jean Leloup, no one 'makes it' in Montreal. There are many success stories but invariably, these people had to make their fame/fortune elsewhere in order to then sell out big rooms here in Montreal. And as far as visual art is concerned, forget about it, folks don't really buy art here. Sadly, it's becoming rather well-known that Montreal is a very livable city in the sense that rent is cheap and there are so many great cheap places to eat, but the true test is winter. It's brutal (horrible, unlivable, don't move here!) and it lasts for months. I love the winter. It's a very creative time because you're no longer distracted by all the street parties and all the pretty people this city has to offer in those months when there is an outside life. So you buckle down and get cooking and you try not to get too distracted by your lover/the tv/the great pot.

c.) Add whatever you’d like...

Of course I'm reticent to go on about Montreal because there is a feeling that you want to preserve that which has already begun to erode: this secret place where the rent is cheap and the people are beautiful. Of course the public works are completely corrupt, the potholes are legendary, garbage cans as scarce as palm trees. The winter is too cold. The summer is too hot. But I couldn't think of another Canadian city I'd want to live in.