Pride in pictures

Photographer Marik Boudreau on the evolution
of Divers/Cité

by ANDREA ZANIN

In the ’70s, at the tender age of 17, Marik Boudreau—now a seasoned documentary photographer—began snapping pictures of Montreal’s queer world, starting with drag shows at legendary bar PJ’s. Since Divers/Cité’s very beginnings in 1993, she has been recording the event with her camera. From July 31 to August 6, a selection of Boudreau’s favourites will be exhibited in Les Grandes Murales, a retrospective at Divers/Cité’s site at Parc Émilie-Gamelin, along with work by Aydin Matlabi, the festival’s official photographer of four years. The Mirror caught up with Boudreau at her home studio.

Mirror: How did you start taking photos for Divers/Cité?

Marik Boudreau: I’ve been taking photos for more than 30 years. Suzanne Girard [General Director of Divers/Cité] and I studied photography together at CÉGEP du Vieux Montréal. We founded a photographers’ group in the late ’70s called Plessisgraphe, on Plessis Street, which wasn’t yet part of the Gay Village. We were already interested in documenting street events at the time, so that’s where it all started. Ours is a story of the street, of Centre-Sud, of friendship. Street events and urban causes have always attracted me—subjects to do with gender and feminism. I was there for the protests that came before Divers/Cité, and naturally when the Divers/Cité parade first began, I was there taking photos.

M: Has the nature of the festival changed over the years? Was it more political in the beginning?

MB: I don’t know if it was officially political at first, but even then it was already a party. I wouldn’t say it was a protest; it was always a parade, or a mix of the two. I use the term manifestation urbaine. Certainly I’m not young anymore, and in my lifetime the condition of gay and lesbian people has really changed. Now, with the rights we’ve won, there are fewer banners than before. But there were never all that many banners in Montreal in the first place, more like people qui s’affichent. So Divers/Cité is changing, yes—it’s more and more of a festival with big shows. But any show of pleasure, celebrating gender, queerness, transsexuality, is still political.

From controversial to surreal

M: What’s it like to photograph such an eclectic celebration?

MB: Documentary photography can be difficult. Good photos are rare, they’re like little miracles. But at Divers/Cité there are many very visual, very surreal scenes, very exuberant people, and it feels good. It’s really quite the urban spectacle! And the spectators are part of it too—people really revel in watching it. That said, for a photographer, Divers/Cité is quite particular. You need to work with strong ethics, and keep things contextual. I don’t stop myself from taking controversial photos—well-known faces, scenes that push the limits of public space or that are really intimate—I just don’t always show them.

M: Do any past years stand out as being particularly good?

MB: I can’t be everywhere at once, so the exhibit is very personal to what I’ve seen. When I look at my negatives, I remember certain years as being good. But it might also be the way I was feeling at the time—so it might be that in 1998 or 2000 I was in the street, really into it, feeling good about myself, loving the crowd. When you say, “the parade was boring this year,” or, “I had a lot of fun at the parade,” it’s about how you’re feeling, who you meet, what emotions the crowd brings up in you. I like to feel a little outside my own body, a bit invisible within the crowd. When I’m in that space, people don’t give me dirty looks, and they let me take their photos. If I don’t feel good in a crowd, I can’t even take out my camera.

M: What historical significance do you think these photos have?

MB: It’s always important to recognize our history. Older lesbians and gays have such a different past, and it’s not far away from us, they’re still very much alive. These images are part of our history. I don’t know if I can say my own participation is significant, but the role of photography in general is. A single image, with no context, can be meaningless, but many images from many people—with camera phones and everything, you can imagine how many images are out there. Photography is a medium where there’s a centre of truth. Some people say there isn’t anymore, and in a sense that’s right. Of course you can make a false image nowadays. But to me photography is always real, if for nothing or no one else than the person taking it.

Les Grandes Murales vernissage takes place Monday, July 31, 11 a.m.–11 p.m., at Ste-Catherine Terrasse, outside Parc Émilie-Gamelin. More info at www.diverscite.org