An established, professional artist who proudly lives with cerebral palsy and madness, embraces his Mi'kmaq heritage, and celebrates his gay identity. Over the past fifteen years, Hull, originally a choir vocalist, has distinguished himself as one of Canada's most prominent power wheelchair choreographers and dancers. He more recently expanded his repertoire to include live and digital performance. Hull's artistic practice is multidisciplinary, consisting of varied, vibrant works in dance, theatre, music and media arts.

Story from the edge

Frank went dancing at the Black Eagle once during retro night. He wore LEDs on his fingers just to stop people from smashing into him. “Turn off those lights,” somebody told him. “I’m coming through with beer; if I spill it, it’s going to be a waste of beer.” He arrived at 8:30 pm and left after last call; he had needed to research the entrances just to have his night out. He doesn’t want every outing to become a fight for disability rights. He wonders how the other performers from Come to the Edge get by. Like himself, they also manage cerebral palsy, although many of them are nonverbal: “…I can advocate for myself, and I can advocate rather hard. What is it like when you can't advocate for yourself? And here's the even skinnier question: how much abuse do I experience because I can't advocate for myself?” Frank talks a bit about his heroes. There was his first lover, Enrico, who died in his arms of HIV. Then there was his colleague Marcie—also a wheelchair dancer—whom he calls “the most technical dancer I’ve ever met.” And Sabatino, his dance teacher. Almost too many to name, he tells me. Unprompted, he then adds, “I think one of my fears is that I don't ever want to cross over into feeling sorry for somebody. But, you know, I don't know—I'm human, and I'm not going to say I've never been there...”