V O L . 2 7 N 0 3 J U - Fugues

NEWSMAKERS by Richard Burnett
Rufus, a long way from
Sarajevo’s
I’m trying my best not to stare at Rufus Wainwright’s crotch, except Rufus
is sitting directly in front of me, legs spread as he scratches the inner left
thigh of his pants.
I stutter. “Uh…”
So I ask Rufus how he manages to avoid temptation since checking into
rehab eight years ago to beat his crystal meth addiction.
(I know, but it’s all I could think of…)
“I haven’t been a severe hedonist for a long time,” Rufus replies matterof-factly.
“It WAS a lot of fun and I got a lot out of it.”
I remember those years, notably Rufus’s descent into crystal meth hell.
“I’d been drinking for years, but certainly what brought the curtain
down was the crystal meth,” Rufus told me at the time. “I’d go on these
three- or four-day binges. So I checked myself into rehab. I had a lot of
help. I consulted other performers who’d been through the same experience
and the general consensus was, yes, I should put everything on
hold. I was very fortunate.”
Wainwright also believes crystal meth is ruining the gay community.
« I’ve been up to Montreal a couple of times since my mom
died and I’ve had to wrestle with the intensity. » RUFUS
160 juin 2010 fugues.com
“I don’t want to be judgmental
but I do feel there's a certain
amount of denial that for all of
the fun of these drugs there is a
price to be paid. Some people can
manage it but I just couldn’t. Unfortunately
those who can are lionized
and olympified in gay
culture – those who can take the
most drugs, stay up the latest and
still have a great body and have
45,000 affairs. I just can’t do that.
I don’t have the stamina.”
Today, all these years later, I’m
staring Rufus straight in his eyes –
and they’re smiling – as he
scratches the inner left thigh of his
pants some more. “That’s not to
say these phantoms don’t arise.
But that said, I want to live.”
If anything, the January 18 death
of his mother, famed Montreal folk
singer Kate McGarrigle, from a rare
form of cancer called clear-cell
sarcoma, spurred Wainwright to
re-evaluate the gift of life.
The morning after her passing,
Rufus wrote on his website,
“When inevitably I read today in
the papers that my mother lost her
battle with cancer last night, I am
filled with an immense desire to
add that this battle, though lost,
was tremendously fruitful during
these last three and a half years of
her life. She witnessed her daughter’s
marriage, the creation of my
first opera, the birth of her first
grandchild [his sister Martha’s son
Arcangelo]…
“Yes, it was all too brief, but as I
was saying to her sister Anna last
night while sitting by her body
after the struggle had ceased,
there is never enough time and
she, my amazing mother with
whom everyone fell in love, went
out there and bloody did it. I will
miss you mother, my sweet and
valiant explorer.”
On this day, two months later,
Rufus tells me, “I’ve been up to
Montreal a couple of times since
my mom died and I’ve had to
wrestle with the intensity.”
Then at this very moment Rufus’s
cell phone rings and the display
Photo : RRoberrt Laalliberrté