MARK SIZZUM IS SLEAZING THE MEANS OF PRODUCTION IN THE NOVA SCOTIA DRAG SCENE

BY ROWAN O’BRIEN | @ROWANOHBEE

In Dungeons and Dragons, magic is divided into eight categories. The magic of creation — making something physically tangible out of an idea — is known as “conjuration”. You may be surprised to find out that conjuration wizards exist in the real world, and one of the most powerful mages I know is Halifax-based drag king Mark Sizzum.

When Mark and I met playing Dungeons and Dragons, I was magnetized by their talent for spinning goofy stories and characters out of thin air. Little did I know that I was in the presence of a true sorcerer with the power to manifest queer joy as a tangible art form.

If you attend a Mark Sizzum show you will likely see “the vibe of a gay man from San Francisco in the 80s” with a penchant for leather and giving face, belting campy pop hits such as “Total Eclipse of the Heart” or “A Thousand Miles” and, perhaps, even taking off some clothes. “That’s getting to be a more prominent part of the performance,” Mark laughed.

Like many of us, Mark’s first introduction to drag was through the technicolour lip syncs of RuPaul’s Drag Race. Their understanding of what drag could be was then pushed even further when they started attending local drag shows. “I had seen some RuGirl performances before, but the local drag experience is so much more fun. There’s so much more freedom to do whatever you want.”

One of the local shows that first inspired Mark was the Fuck Sh*t Up Cabaret, “Toronto’s trans, nonbinary, gender nonconforming, & 2 Spirit cabaret”, produced by Babia Majora and Fluffy Soufflé. Mark was particularly inspired by Joe Peach’s performance that evening, a draggy reverse burlesque number to Lizzo’s “About Damn Time”, where they start off in underwear and proceed to get dressed for the day, finishing off by strapping on a KN95 mask. “Seeing that show, and a lot more of that kind of thing when I started going to drag shows, was really eye-opening for me of what drag could be and what drag could do.”

When Mark moved from Toronto to Halifax last summer, they were able to find a community in their new city by becoming an avid local drag attendee. For a couple of years, the idea of stepping on stage themself had been taking root in the back of Mark’s brain, but moving to a smaller city where the drag scene was a lot less intimidating finally closed the gap between desire and actualization. Shortly after settling into Nova Scotia, Mark decided to buy a bunch of cheap makeup with a friend who was also interested in drag and started practicing their beat.

They signed up for their first performance at a recurring open stage produced by Halifax drag artist Anna Mona-Pia. “It was a ton of fun. I was so nervous, and I just got on stage and started doing it. And then, there were people cheering? And clapping? And then I started getting tips. There was a moment where I distinctly remember thinking, ‘Am I doing a good job? I guess so!’”

Since their premiere, Mark has been performing regularly, welcomed by the warm and kind Halifax drag community. Looking back, Mark advises, “Even if you don’t feel ready, just sign up for the show … I think it’s a good pressure, in a way, to have something to work up to.”

Drag is not the first or only art form that Mark uses to weave queer joy into the fabric of reality. They have also dabbled in stand-up comedy, create visual art such as oil paintings and embroidery, and are an especially talented writer, having graduated from Concordia with a Bachelor’s in English Literature and Creative Writing. “I like to tell a story and I like to be goofy,” Mark said, as they explained how their artistic pursuits offer a creative outlet, but also satisfy different needs in their life. “Mark also definitely fulfills a lot of fun genderplay for me, which doesn’t really come out in the writing or painting.”

Mark has identified as genderqueer for over a decade, but since stepping on stage, they find that they have been able to express their masculine side a lot more. “It’s fun for me to get to perform that type of masculinity, a very queer masculinity, which just feels so good. And since I’ve started performing as Mark, I’ve also felt more comfortable dressing more masculine in my daily life, which has been really nice. Performing as Mark, I get to play around a lot more with my own sense of expression.”

The gender exploration that performing as Mark introduced into their daily life evolved into a feedback loop of genderfuckery. As Mark became more comfortable expressing masculinity in the real world, the character of Mark Sizzum started to experiment with more feminine elements. “I’ve just started wearing lipstick in drag, which is something I was very resistant to when I first started doing drag because it felt kind of dysphoric and too feminine. Once I started feeling pretty comfortable with how I do my makeup for drag — I like how I do my facial hair and I’ve got these outfits I feel really comfortable in — I feel okay to add that more feminine, genderfuck aspect of like, I’m gonna have this moustache, and I’m gonna bind my chest, and I’m gonna wear a bright red lip.”

The most powerful conjuration wizards can also help people find the same power within themselves. When I went to visit Mark in Halifax this summer, I was one such lucky apprentice. Like Mark, I fell in love with drag many years ago and often dreamed of taking the stage myself, but could never muster the courage. Knowing this, Mark sent me the information to sign up for the very same open stage where they had debuted earlier this year. “I love drag so much. Anyone who expresses the tiniest bit of interest to me, I’m like ‘Please, please let me put you in drag.’ I think it’s just such an awesome way of expressing creativity and queerness and just having a fun and stupid time.”

I was grateful to have someone I respect as an artist and love as a friend support me in this anxiety-inducing but exciting process. Through makeup tips, dress rehearsal feedback, and buying me a drink to steady my nerves once we arrived at the venue, Mark gifted me the confidence to lip sync and strip my way across the stage that evening. In front of the crowd, I was fueled by the pure joy of making a fool of myself for my friends. After the show, feelings of pride, power, and camaraderie filled me like the post-show Subway sandwich I happily scarfed down.

Both on and off stage, a major component of Mark’s magic is their connection to their community. “I just really enjoy the aspect that’s engaging with people. Community building, getting to chat and share. I like to be on stage also, I find that very fulfilling, especially in front of a whole bunch of queer people who are like, ‘I’m so excited that this weird queer art is happening!’”

Mark prioritizes community care and they often share local actions and events on their Instagram, including a book sale organized by a group they are involved in called Books Beyond Bars, an abolitionist program in Halifax that delivers books to people who are incarcerated. They are also working on creating more accessible and disability-friendly events, such as mask-mandatory shows.

Through Mark’s school of conjuration, we can learn how to bring our joy to life in weird and contagious ways and become the caretakers we want to see in our communities.

Follow Mark to stay up to date:

IG: @marksizzumtheory