The legacy of a late great Canadian queer art space

WhenVideofagcomes to an end this week, it will live onas an iconic chapter inToronto's queer cultural legacy. In under four years, the venue has featured hundreds of performances, exhibitions,readings, screenings, salons, potlucks andparties that will not soon beforgotten by thosein the community it so distinctly represented. Nothing like it existed before in Torontoand it's likely thatnothing like it ever will again.

Co-founded by artists William Ellis and Jordan Tannahillin October 2012, Videofag's origin story hasbecome fabled in itself. Ellis and Tannahill were roughly a year into a whirlwind romanceand decided it was time to move in together but when they came across a "for rent" sign on the window of an old barbershop in Toronto's Kensington Market, they had anotheridea.

"We thought,'Maybe this is a good time to not only move in together but also start some sort of collaboration,'" Ellis tellsCBC Arts."I think from there everything evolved pretty organically. Wehad friends who were doing projects and we asked them if they wanted to be a part of the space. It never felt like were preparing what things would look like and what things would be like. Wejust sort of went with it."

With that,Videofagwas bornboth as Ellis andTannahill'slove nest and a considerable hub for queer Canadianartists. Names likeVivek Shraya,Michael V. Smith, The Hidden Cameras, Jess Dobkin, Donnarama,Adam Garnet Jones, Ryan G. Hinds,Salvatore Antonio, Jon Davies and Keith Cole are amongthe countless examples, withsome of the work theydeveloped in the space goingon to play at New York's The Kitchen and Dixon Place, Vancouver's PuShFestival, Montreal'sFestival TransAmrique and Toronto's own Buddies in Bad Times and HarbourfrontCentre.

On Wednesday night,Videofagwill hostone final party, and all of that will come to an end. Which was always sort of the plan.

"We had imagined the end being there from the beginning," Ellis says. "It didn't feel like something we wanted to become the next Buddies in Bad Times or a big institution. We definitely talked about that, but the idea ofgoing on forever was not really something that we thought would happen. We were always thinking, 'Okay, we'll go for another six months or we'll go for another eight months or whatever.'"

But whenTannahill and Ellis broke up, it began to become clear to them it really wasbeginning of the end of Videofag. Tannahill recalls having to continue sleepingin the same bed as Ellis for months after breaking upbecause theyhad a shaman-in-residence, MichaelDudeck, staying in theirguest bedroom (he also notes that they had to shower together every morning because the spaceonly had five minutes of hot water).

As the Videofag finaleofficially nears, both Ellis and Tannahillhave heavy hearts.

"I've been thinking a lot about those first few shows," Ellis says."I guess just it seems like those shows sort of established us. We've also been working with a lot of those artists again in different capacities. It feels almost like a bookend to thespace."

Tannahill reminiscesaboutsitting backstage in Videofag's tiny kitchen with fourteen actors (including a saxophone-playing drag queen and a man in a panda costume), along with several large set pieces, during Sheila Heti'sAll Our Happy Days Are Stupid, orwalking out of the shower in just a towel and into a kitchen full of actors preparing tea for their rehearsal.

"[We also hosted]the very first Queer Songbook Orchestra in which [musician]Shaun Brodiemanaged to fit an entire chamber orchestra into a living-room sized space," Tannahilladds. "The orchestra is now wildly popular and touring Canada."

And theseclearly representonly a tiny percentage of the memories Ellis, Tannahill and the extraordinarily long list of artists who have joined themat the spacewill take with them after tomorrow night(check out the complete archiveof programming belowfor some perspective).Though its doors may be closing,itsimpact will last forever. Long live Videofag.