Everyone in Quebec knows Mado Lamotte. Paradoxically, Luc Provost, the one who has played the flamboyant drag queen for more than 35 years, remains an enigma for many people. Much more reserved in nature than his illustrious alter ego, he agreed for a rare time to tell his story, in a biography which appears Thursday.
In this Madography, very full of souvenir photos, Luc Provost of course returns with humor to the genesis of his character, born in the summer of 1987 in a disguise competition at the defunct Poodles bar. This book is also an opportunity to learn more about the man under the costume, who always remained a bit of this different child, who preferred Nicole Martin to Led Zeppelin, who dreamed of becoming an actor rather than a hockey player.
This call of the stage never really left him, in fact. Luc Provost, who studied theater, was above all the man of a single role: that of Mado Lamotte. “There are times in my career, of course, I would have preferred to do something else. Especially about ten years ago, I told myself that this would be the fun let people see me as a man. But with the cabaret, I’ve been so busy. Mado never stopped working,” confides the man who has been co-owner of Cabaret Mado since 2002, located on Rue Sainte-Catherine Est.
It was a blessing, then, when he was offered the lead role in Hosanna or the Scheherazade of the poor, by Michel Tremblay, his idol. The play is currently on display at Trident, in Quebec. Between two performances, Luc Provost was enjoying a few days of good time in Charlevoix when The duty spoke to him.
At the beginning, she was a good woman from Rosemont, today she is more of an old bourgeois woman. But what is certain is that it’s not me.
On the other end of the phone, you sometimes think you hear Mado Lamotte. Like his double, Luc Provost demonstrates an unparalleled sense of repartee and expresses himself by rolling his “r’s”, a proud heritage of the joual spoken in the working-class neighborhoods of eastern Montreal, where he grew up. But make no mistake: “Mado is a character. The character has certainly evolved. At the beginning, she was a good woman from Rosemont, today she is more of an old bourgeois woman. But what is certain is that it’s not me. She’s not a woman either. When I get home, I take it all off. You have to see her as a clown. It’s burlesque. »
The time before was the time before
With her absolutely kitsch costumes, her grotesque makeup and her completely implausible wigs somewhere between Marie-Antoinette and Marge Simpson, Mado Lamotte has little to do with the very feminine drag queens that we can see in shows like RuPaul’s Drag Race.
It belongs to another tradition, that of the cabaret, where ridicule does not kill. The suggestive choreographies and lip-sync on pop songs were never his cup of tea. Moreover, Luc Provost admits it in his book: he hates Madonna and Céline Dion, which is almost a crime of lèse-majesté in the gay community. Mado prefers to improvise salacious and mocking jokes on stage, a real extreme sport in 2023, however.
“Everything has become complicated,” regrets Luc Provost. I now advise other drag performers not to laugh at anyone on stage except themselves. We avoid laughing at people in the audience like we did before. We no longer make jokes about the stars either, because they are not there to defend themselves. And we can no longer wear just anything. For example, there are some who say that Mado doesn’t have the right to wear an afro because I’m not black. I only ask to learn, but I still find that there are many people who consider themselves judges of good speaking and good doing today. »
He can’t help but feel a sense of nostalgia when he thinks back to his beginnings. At the time, the Gay Village was bustling. Then, the arrival of dating applications around ten years ago had the effect of forcing the closure of several bars. Then, in turn, the end of the pink balls and the pandemic finished finishing off this sector, today one of the most devitalized in Montreal. The problems of homelessness and drug addiction have become obvious.
” I saw some deals of drugs in broad daylight, in the bright sun, in the middle of the street. Before, I felt safe. But less and less. When I walk, returning home after shows, in the evening, I sometimes feel afraid. We need to tackle the problem now before it becomes completely decadent. But I don’t know, it seems like the police aren’t moving,” he laments.
The fight goes on
That said, everything wasn’t better before. In the mid-1990s, when Mado Lamotte became known to the general public with his bingo evenings, society was not as evolved on LGBTQ+ issues.
Drag queen was far from the most valued profession. Feminists criticized these disguised men for making fun of women by exaggerating their features and facial expressions. Even within the community, some accused drag of fueling a stereotypical image of homosexuals, at a time when gays were instead seeking to be considered as full men. Luc Provost, who is living his celibacy well today, remembers that Mado’s existence sometimes put off certain suitors.
A lot of ground has been covered since then. In 2023, Mado Lamotte is no longer the only drag queen known to the general public. Female impersonators have never been more visible. Too much, for the taste of some parents, who are opposed to the reading of children’s stories by these creatures historically associated with the world of the night.
“People mix everything up. Drag shows adapt to their audience. If we ask Maxim Martin to go and read a story to children, he will not do the jokes sex that he does in the evenings in bars when he is a comedian. Well, it’s the same thing for the rest of us,” proclaims Luc Provost, who fears a backlash in public opinion like the one he is observing in the United States these days.