Marval Rex on 'Rexodus' – Finding Himself in His Family's History

"I've always had this jawline," Marval Rex says at one point in his solo show "Rexodus: Out of the Closet and into the Tribe." "Being this masculine looking from a young age, I was the original brick."

It's Rex's shorthand way of saying that, yes, he might have been assigned female at birth, but his gender transition was a matter of reclaiming what had been his true identity all along.

"Rexodus" delves deeply into Rex's life, hopes, aspirations, and family. Sometimes, early in the show, his monologue can seem like the sort of braggadocio that modern celebrities sometimes engage in, a kind of performative boasting. But as the show progresses, the method behind his preening emerges: He's not inflating his ego so much as superseding it, interrogating identity itself by stepping outside himself and "channeling" his mother, whose story of growing up in the dictatorship of Franco's Spain dovetails into the account of Rex's Jewish ancestors having been forced to convert in mediaeval Spain or face the bonfires that consumed thousands at the stake. Those atavistic identities become Rex's own as he contends with a different sort of transition: That from Catholicism back to his ancestral faith.

The show itself is less one of transition than synthesis, as Rex blends stand-up comedy's anecdotal technique with deceptively profound meditations on what selfhood is, where it extends, and the relationships between self and other, self and society, self and history – even self and God. Transformation, you realize as Rex reels off his one-liners and creates narrative and philosophical loops, can be a kind of pilgrimage. If God calls, then that calling may take a person not just to other lands, but other forms of being.

Rex dials into a Zoom conversation from the porch of his Los Angeles home. Moments into the conversation he's distracted by an arriving tradesperson. "We just moved into our house," Rex explains apologetically, "so what has been happening is that random people are coming through that are doing things in the house, and this happens all day." No matter: When the question of identity itself is on the table, there's no use in getting egotistical about much of anything.

Read on to find out Rex's thoughts on performing naked on stage, the glorious messiness of locating oneself in this haphazard project we call life, and how simply being transgender has changed in recent years.

EDGE: you talk in the show about your background as a performance artist, but you're also a stand-up comedian. Which of those came first?

Marval Rex My practice really began in performance art. However, I want to say that there was a gradual lead up into being a stand-up comedian, because in my art performances I would always break the fourth wall by doing something comedic and unexpected. It was through ["Transparent" creator] Joey Soloway, a collaborator and friend of mine, where the comedy really came in. They were like, "You know, you should do stand-up." Joey and I did performance art together that was really comedic and strange, and then it landed in straight stand up. But I love both.

EDGE: Tell me a bit about developing this show.

Marval Rex I'm really telling my own story: I'm sharing intimate details about my family and my mother, who I'm, of course, very protective of, but also love deeply. She's given me total consent to channel her, basically.

Throughout my career I've had to negotiate my body, which is a very illegible body even now. I feel like I've always kind of hidden in plain sight, because my body is so surprising to people. I was getting naked in a lot of my performances, which I mention in "Rexodus," though I don't get naked in "Rexodus." So, there's this departure that happens in this new piece, where I'm not revealing my trans body. There's something more vulnerable about not getting naked; it's actually more comfortable for me to be naked on stage than it is to do this show. Like, nudity is what it is. Transness is a little bit more complicated.