PATRICK MASON
The queer creative shares the moments that defined him.
The creative director and DJ shares the moments that defined him as a queer person.
As one-half of music duo SRVD, creative director and vocalist Patrick Mason has become a heavyweight on the Berlin club scene. Since meeting Radio Slave at Panorama Bar, the pair have set venues alight around the world with their infamous DJ sets, and even released their own tracks online.
With Patrick literally putting the serve in SRVD for his GAY TIMES photo shoot, we asked him to delve into his past and write about the moments that make him proud to be queer.
FAMILY.
I consider myself extremely lucky to have such wonderful and supportive parents. I had a great childhood... well, mostly. I grew up in a small town in Bavaria, Germany, a very conservative town where nothing exciting ever happened. My dad and I were probably the first and only people of colour they have ever encountered, so I guess it’s no surprise that during my childhood I was confronted with a lot of racism and bullying. My dad taught me from a very young age that I had to work twice as hard to be recognised – which I did. I was an A-grade student, I practiced martial arts from a very young age. I was always a very flamboyant, extravagant and outgoing young boy. Oh, and of course I played with dolls and Barbies, painted my nails and wore dresses when I was little. My dad always tells this story how I used to stick my hand out of the car while in motion, holding a Barbie doll, because I liked watching her hair fluttering in the wind. As my dad was in the American military and my mom was raised in a very Catholic household, it’s no surprise that it didn’t sit quite well with them. But I was a strong-headed young kid and they probably thought that I would grow out of it. I myself knew from a very young age that I was different. When I finally hit puberty, I ended up in my first identity crisis. During my teen years I went through a lot of emotional stress and ba¢age, some of which I still carry around. What has changed is how I carry it.
FRIENDSHIP.
I was quite the loner for most of my life, not letting anyone close enough to hurt me. I had a lot of casual friends I hung out and partied with but it was always hard for me to share my feelings with anyone. I always like to paint a picture of a big oak tree to explain my understanding of friends and family. When you see a big oak tree up on a hill during the last strokes of autumn, the tree crowns patched, branches thinned out and cold to the touch. If I myself represent that oak tree, then the leaves would represent the acquaintances I’ve made over the years. They bloom over one summer season, and fade away when it gets cold. The thin branches are friends who stayed over more than just a year’s season, strong enough to endure the winter’s cold and breeze, but will break when a storm is rattling them hard enough. The big and strong branches, emerging from the stem, builds the visual structure of the tree. They represent true friends, who have the most influence on me, shaping me as a person, enduring the coldest season, holding up against the stormiest weathers. And then there are the roots. Strong and nourishing. Essential for the growth and existence. You won’t see them, but without them the tree won’t be able to survive. These roots represent my parents and my closest friends, friends so dear to my heart I consider them family. Not even a hand full to the count, but what I treasure most in this life. They were always there when I thought I couldn’t go on. They were there when I was soaring through the sky, so high I thought I could reach the stars. Especially in the past three years I came a long way, went through a lot of changes and grew a lot. They stood by me on a journey to self-acceptance and self-love. Suffering from body dysmorphia I had a very distorted picture of myself. It translated into my work and basically every aspect of my life. It was just toxic. My friends were instrumental in helping me overcome this. I’m so grateful to have such outstanding people in my life.
MUSIC.
For as long as I can remember, music and dance have always been an essential part of my life. There are polaroids of me in my crib, I must have been only a couple months old, not able to walk yet, but pulling myself up and dancing to Michael Jackson. He also was my first hero and icon. I mimicked every move, learned all the choreography and lyrics to his songs. I recall one stormy summer night - I must have been six or seven years old - I grabbed my mum’s silk bathrobe, walked out on the porch and let it fly in the wind, re-enacting Michael’s Black And White ‘Panther Dance’. He empowered me to the most powerful and outgoing person that I can be. I always was a kid who liked being the centre of attention and to entertain. In my teens, artists like Prince, Grace Jones and Erykah Badu became my spirit animals. Their enormous energy transcended through all levels of consciousness and at the same time being super unapologetic about it. This energy is what drives me to this day. When I’m on stage performing this is what I draw from. Music is what gets me out of bed in the morning – a funky disco tune to start the day right does wonders. Music is probably the most powerful tool of communication we have. It unites us all, no matter the race, creed, color, sexual orientation, gender identification or social position. That’s the beauty of it.
COMING OUT.
Like every queer guy, my coming out was a branding experience in my life. It happened on a very uneventful Thursday afternoon. I was all snu¢led up in my room about to explore the depths of Pornhub. Tissues: check! Lube: check! Favorite porn: check! Just before I was ready to go, the bedroom door opened and my mum entered in a quick pace. Of course, shocked as I was about this unannounced intrusion, I knocked my laptop off my bed revealing just a glimpse of what was going on before it went dark... enough though for my mum to see that there were only naked men on the screen. So any attempt from my side to wi¢le out of it was already doomed to failure. So there it was, my not-so-voluntary coming out to my mum. She took it quite well, of course she knew for ages but there were some tears and awkward silence. The next few weeks were a little strange, with a ‘don’t ask don’t tell’ situation. But she came around quite quickly... unlike my dad, who was still in the dark. As I mentioned earlier, my dad was in the US Air Force and comes from a very strict and conservative household. I always had a more distant relationship with him, as I had this fear I wasn’t the son he wanted me to be. So it was very clear to me that he could never know. I was 20 years old at that time, about to leave home and a virgin. When I moved to Berlin shortly after, I experienced my sexual awakening. Especially in a city like Berlin, where anything goes and it’s super open-minded, I finally felt at home and understood. I was living my best life, far from home and the knowledge and supervision of my parents. Then, one summer, when my parents came to visit me in Berlin it happened. It started very innocent of me giving my mum my old phone as I just got a new one and she was in need of it. Naive as I was at that time, I handed over my phone to my dad as he is the one to execute any technological tasks, forgetting to erase any ‘sensitive’ content still on it. Inevitably, what had to happen, happened. I was woken up early in the morning the next day with a hysterical phone call from my mum saying, ‘He knows! He went through your pictures!’ From this moment on the already complicated relationship with my dad span out of control. Up to that point I never raised my voice against my parents, especially my dad, as I feared the consequences too much. But after this incident it was the first time I stepped up to my very dominant father. The confidence I obtained from living in a city like Berlin, being surrounded by wonderful supportive people, highly succeeding in my studies and career gave me the balls to speak up about all the issues I kept buried deep inside for all those years. I am a proud, young gay man in the prime of my life who worked very hard to be where I am right now. So after half a year of not speaking a word to each other, I came to the conclusion that if my own father can’t accept me for who I am, I’d rather have no father at all. It was hard for me to go that far, but it was the only way I could see this working for me. After a long and intense conversation, where I saw my dad cry for the very first time in my life, we found common ground. Since then, my dad has done a full 180. He has been not only a father but also a friend who I can talk to. The future is shaped by the people we send into it and I’m proud of him for realising that.