Arts

When so many queer spaces are closing, Halifax's OutFest eyes its biggest year yet

Atlantic Canada's biggest queer festival of the performing arts launches its biggest and most ambitious year to date

Theatre, dance and performance art takes Halifax by storm April 23-28.

A person (blonde hair, light top, dark shorts) dances on stage.
Sid Ryan Eilers performs in Kiss the Stormy Sky, part of Halifax's OutFest. (Marlowe Porter)

For Isaac Mulè, bringing OutFest — the event that has grown into Atlantic Canada's largest queer theatre festival — to Halifax from Kitchener, Ontario, was a no-brainer.

"I noticed that there wasn't something here that was specifically supporting queer artists," says Mulé, who is the artistic director of Page 1 Theatre, the organization behind OutFest. "When you look around locally here in Halifax, or across the region, there's so many queer artists that are creating fantastic work, that are doing some really interesting things, and then there just wasn't this dedicated platform." 

A handful of days before the 2024 festival begins, it should feel like crunch time. But if it does, Mulè hides it well. He perpetually has one more thing he wants to highlight (and then one more, and then one more) about the breadth and depth of talent in the region's theatre community. He almost sounds like a server who can't pick a favourite of the daily specials on offer, since they're all so good. 

To stretch the metaphor a bit further, OutFest is almost like a tasting menu: delivering theatre, performance art, and music from a blend of emerging voices and names-of-note in the scene.

A person on stage struts in a mask and a pink and red lycra suit.
Lou Campbell in Prude, being staged as part of Halifax's OutFest. (Daniel Wittnebel)

Since the event's inaugural run in 2022, OutFest has gained steam steadily. Now its third year is poised to be its biggest yet, with a longer run of dates — eight days instead of the previous six — and, despite a city-wide venue shortage, two additional stages. 

(Previous iterations of the festival exclusively used The Bus Stop Theatre, the last-standing indie theatre space in Halifax's north end. The fest has since expanded to venues like live music stalwart The Carleton and the Grafton Street Dinner Theatre.)

But it isn't just OutFest's growth that proves the event's relevance. It's also a response to the thirst for queer spaces in the city.

"Intentional queer spaces in Halifax are not staying open. They don't exist right now," says Sara Graham, a theatre artist debuting a new play at the festival. "There isn't a bar anymore. There isn't a dance space. These spaces aren't held with closeness in the city, but I know that people mourn them and want for them. I know that I grieve the ones that are gone." 

Graham shifts on the couch next to Rooks Field-Green, who's directing Graham's play, a queer romcom with a disabled lead called Lifespan of a Mattress

The two go list the few remaining local queer spaces managing to maintain a toehold, including the likes of Glitter Bean Cafe and Cape & Cowl Comics & Collectibles. 

"I think that there's a really important crossroads that we're at in the city now that [the festival] is filling," Graham says "My hope is that people come and see the work that's being done and remember all those spaces that existed. I want people to remember [closed gay bars] Reflections and Rumors. I want people to go: 'Oh, yeah, like those places existed. The characters in these shows would go to them. That really is true.' So it's something that doesn't exist elsewhere right now in our city, and I think people need spaces to go." 

A man with a dark beard and hair looks at into the camera
Isaac Mulè artistic director of Page 1 Theatre, the organization behind OutFest. (Daniel Wittnebel)

The executive director of the Halifax Fringe Festival, Graham doesn't see OutFest as competition, but rather as a necessity for the city and the scene: "Especially in a world and in a country that feels like we're losing [these spaces] at a faster rate."

"OutFest is a festival that does employ trans people," adds Field-Green, who has been part of OutFest since its inaugural year. "It employs queer folks in this province who are working on theater or creating performance art. And that's actually kind of significant. I think it's hard to get a start in the industry with your own work. Producing something independently is pretty difficult, unless you've got a lot of established work, and a really kick-ass grant writing ability. There's really not very much arts funding in this province. So, having a designated festival for queer folks is really important—and allows for us to create work in a lot of ways."

Alongside Graham and Field-Green's Lifespan of a Mattress, other can't-miss shows at OutFest 2024 include PRUDE, local actor Lou Campbell's one-person-show that borrows from drag and stand-up to explore asexuality. (Mulè, meanwhile, named the dance performance Kiss The Stormy Sky as amongst his must-sees.)

"I think every year the work is interesting and new to me" says Graham. "There's never a year that I wonder if I'll attend [OutFest] because I know that they're programming interesting new work that I haven't seen before. I would tell people to attend OutFest every year. Keep proving that the spaces matter and that they're important to us, and that there needs to be more of them. And that way, OutFest can keep expanding and creating these spaces for everyone."

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Originally from rural New Brunswick but based in Halifax for almost a decade, Morgan Mullin is a freelance journalist with bylines in Chatelaine and The Globe and Mail. A Polaris Prize Juror, she covers music, arts and culture on the east coast—primarily at local news site The Coast, where she is Arts Editor. She can be found on Twitter at @WellFedWanderer.