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About Just out. (Portland, OR) 1983-2013 | View Entire Issue (April 21, 2000)
im Miller is pissed off. From the cold war to A ID S, from “general, garden- variety gay civil rights” to freedom of __ expression, Miller has covered it all in his acclaimed solo performance art pieces of the past 20 years. O ne of the infa mous NEA 4— four artists who had their National Endowment for the Arts grants revoked by the government for “indecen cy” in 1990— Miller has found a new issue to agitate him to action and inspire him to performance. “It’s just so ugly,” he says. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt as activated or as wanting to change this injustice. It’s much worse than having your grants taken away and having to take a case to the Supreme Court; it’s much more stressful, too. Worse than hav ing your grants taken away is having your partner taken away.” Miller fell in love with Alistair McCartney, an Australian, in 1994 and began his journey through the hazy, mad dening world o f U .S. immigration. Because their relationship is not recog by nized in this country, Miller and M cCart ney, along with thousands of other bina tional queer couples, have no legal rights of partnership for immigration purposes. Miller’s latest show, Glory Box, which comes to Portland’s Echo Theatre on April 29, is an exploration of his experiences as a gay boy, then a gay man in America, and his subse quent struggles with the second-class citizen ship reinforced through the immigration machine. The piece, titled with an Australian term for hope chest, is in part a testament to the heart’s inability to create or conform to the borders and restrictions placed on the gay com munity by a heterosexist culture. As a teen-ager in Los Angeles, Miller was inspired by autobiographical feminist perfor mance art, which “is certainly why I do the work I do today, seeing the narratives of our lives as being important and bringing those into performance,” he says. Since the mid-’80s, Miller’s solo work has been largely autobio graphical studies of gay America. “I feel like there’s more than enough for several lifetimes of any artist in exploring our identities as lesbians and gay men," he says. “It’s a big ol’ terrain.” To be sure. Miller is now tackling a gay rights subject that has barely been on the map in the queer community but has built up momentum and media attention of late with the introduction of House Resolution 3650, the Permanent Partners Immigration A ct of 2000. The bill— introduced by U.S. Rep. Jer- rold Nadler, D-N.Y., in February and co-writ- ten by the Lesbian and Gay Immigration ca.... The fact is, if we’re having to leave, what we need to talk about is why is America so fucked up?” Asking this question is a major inten tion of Glory Box, which Miller calls his best piece to date. “Unless America grows up and starts treating gay people like human beings,” he insists, “I don’t want to stay and pay taxes in a country with the human rights violations that exist here.... The only ethical choice, really, is to no longer give the illusion that there are civil liberties in the U .S. for gay people.” Miller routinely uses his work to inspire community action, and Glory Box is no different. “There’s a certain visibility I have as a performer. I get in the media a lot,” he explains. “I’m taught in universities for my performances and writing; it poten tially sends a strong signal, that I’m not welcome as an American artist, that I’m not welcome in my own country. That’s about just creating a strong stance of protest and refusal to participate in a sys tem that’s so unbelievably unfair.” So Tim Miller is pissed off. But, he admits, he’s also been truly inspired by the people he’s met on this tour. “I’m just so moved as I meet all these hun dreds of binational couples— the strength of people’s commitment and their real belief in love and connection amid the complete hostil ity of the U.S. government,” he says. The feeling is mutual. Glory Box is the first performance art project about an issue that is dominant in binational couples’ lives. Part of the proceeds from the shows, including the performance in Portland, are going to local chapters of LGIRTF. “Even if Alistair and 1 end up being forced into exile,” concludes Miller, “it’s really been energizing to me, the depth of queer people’s love and commitment to each other. T h at’s something I feel very lucky to be witnessing.” T Tim Miner’s new show, Glory Box, proves you can’t put borders on the human heart wm ip ! \ j L isa B radshaw mm Rights Task Force— would amend the Immigra tion and Nationality Act to allow queer Amer ican citizens to sponsor their foreign partners for entry into the United States. Currently, no such allowance exists for same-sex couples, so their only option is to obtain short-term educa tional or employment-based visas, which can be extremely restrictive and costly. Miller’s partner is currently here on an edu cation visa that expires next year. “I just go ballistic,” Miller says, “when peo ple start to talk to me about the marriage penalty— that they, depending on their tax return, might have to pay a few hundred dol lars more a year. The government is costing Alistair and I $2,000 or $3,000 a month with his inability to work, our legal fees, out of state tuition. We’re having to spend a minimum of $20,000 to $30,000 extra a year on maintain ing our relationship, because the United States wants to destroy our relationship. That’s a penalty.” Because marriage and immigration issues are inextricably linked, Miller tries to give them equal time in Glory Box. It’s been interesting, he says, to see a larger number of straight peo ple attending this show than his past perfor mances, and he attributes it to their being alternately fascinated and freaked out by gay marriage. Much of the audience so far has been mar- ried binationals. Although he acknowledges that it’s not “their fault" they’re able to get married and stay together without the constant fear of being separated, he pulls no punches on the institution of marriage itself. His value sys tem insists on all or nothing. “Nothing’s going to happen unless our hip- pish straight friends start realizing the right wing speaks for them,” Miller contends. “They are going to have to say, ‘I won’t participate in marriage if gay people can’t.’ I say this in the show, and it always gets a little rush. For straight people to get married now is shame ful.... Even if I really care about them, I could never go to a straight friend’s wedding, and I’m ashamed of them that they would get married. They know my situation— that I don’t have the special rights they have, that I may well have to leave the country— and they still expect me to, like, bring them a present? Get real.” Leaving the United States for what Miller calls “more civilized” countries is a choice all binational couples eventually face. Thirteen nations currently recognize gay relationships for immigration purposes. Australia is one of them, and so is England, another country in which Miller’s partner maintains citizenship. When asked which they would choose, Aus tralia or England, Miller is quick to answer. “We choose changing the laws of Ameri ■ Witness TlM MILLER in Glory Box at 8 p.m. April 29 at Echo Theatre, 1515 S.E. 37th Ave. Tickets are available from Gai-Pied bookstore and Fasrixx. Tickets cost $15, or $20 with post-show reception benefiting the Portland chapter o f LG IR T F; tickets purchased at the door cost $3 more. For additional information, call (503) 203-3305. L esbian and G ay I mmigration R ights T ask FORCE Portland chapter can be reached at (503) 471-1568 or lgirtfpdx@hotmail.com. LlSA B radshaw is a Portland-based free-lance writer and agitated member o f LGIRTF. in vE n to ry. : I th e lo w e st p ric e s . o u r m o m s a re v e ry p r o u d o f %« m M m H u n d r e d s of n e w t i t l e s a r r i v i n g dai l y. 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