A Labour of Love: Krishna Istha on M:otherhood Project

by: Oriana Fox , November 10, 2025

Performance artist-cum-comedian Krishna Istha’s collaborative and highly ambitious M:otherhood Project (2023-present) follows their journey into parenthood, highlighting trans perspectives. First Trimester, part one of what will become a triptych of works, entailed Istha interviewing hundreds of audience members (of all genders) in a quest to find the artist and their partner the ‘perfect’ sperm donor. The interviews formed the basis of a Netflix documentary titled Sperm Donors Wanted! which was released in February 2024. Part two will take the form of another live show, performed with Istha’s mother once they are pregnant. Part three, which is still evolving in response to the contingencies of making parts one and two, will be a feature-length, form-pushing documentary with elements of live performance.

 

 

First Trimester lays bare the rigorous labour entailed in queer family-making. Each potential donor was asked a range of questions, from playful prompts like, ‘Do you know who Le Tigre is?’ to more serious, philosophical, ethical and spiritual queries such as, ‘If you knew I had previously terminated a pregnancy, would you still donate your sperm to me?’ An especially programmed ‘randomiser’ ensured that each ten-minute interview included a well-mixed assortment of questions. Istha also repeatedly requested recommendations as to how many children they should have. Another recurring and timely question was: ‘Is it ethical to have a child in an age of impending ecological disaster?’ Importantly, the interviewees were also encouraged to ask their own questions, fostering mutual exchange and dialogue. Every hour-long stint of discussion was interspersed with brief ‘infomercials’ featuring a range of experts on trans pregnancy and conception. The entire project aims to create a comprehensive resource—legal, medical, and administrative—for other queer and trans individuals planning to start families. The the show programme’s credits page header fittingly reads, ‘it takes a village,’ and features a lengthy list of crew members, supporters, affiliates, and the hundreds of donor candidates speaking to that truth. This, coupled with the nature of the work itself—a binge-worthy litany of interviews—emphasises the relational and community-building nature of the project. Equally, since Istha is both the key protagonist at the centre of the piece and running the show, it is arguably a potent example of contemporary, performance-based ‘self-portraiture.’ It therefore stretches the boundaries of the category by harnessing the artist’s candid self-disclosure alongside that of their many interlocutors, i.e. the potential sperm donors, becoming a collaborative self/other-portrait aimed towards queer world-making in the most literal sense.

I was drawn to First Trimester not only for its subject matter, but also for its form—an ingenious and impactful contemporary overhaul of the live-filmed ‘TV talk-show.’ In my own long-term performance art project, The O Show (2011-present), I, too, play with these conventions. In fact, Istha is the ideal O Show guest, an artist whose work centres on the kinds of risky self-exposure featured on mainstream TV chat shows. In anticipation of a future episode featuring artist-parents, I conducted a pre-interview with Istha on January 22, 2024.

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Oriana Fox (OF):  The little booklet that accompanied First Trimester states that fertility and reproductive rights have long been explored in feminist performance art, often in a trans exclusionary way. I wanted to know if there were specific works by feminist performance artists on reproduction that you had in mind when you made that statement?

Krishna Istha (KI): There isn’t one specifically that comes to mind, but a whole landscape of them. I have been watching shows over the last couple of years that were on the theatre end of performance, so more live art than traditional fine art. But they had generalisations, or a ‘white feminist’ take on reproduction and birthing bodies, where it felt like they were all saying the same thing without interrogating it, apart from the base level of women’s bodies, which is fair. We should also discuss that. So, I was quite interested in what the trans version of that might look like or might sound like.

OF: In another context, you joked about the project allowing you to get arts funding to pay for this huge expense of having a family [Istha also performs stand-up.]. But in all seriousness, making this trilogy is just adding work upon work. As an artwork, it naturally adds a specific element of pleasure, and in this case, fortunately, some funding is available. But I’m wondering about the interaction between the art making and your lived experience? Are you trying to get pregnant actively now, or are you holding off on actually choosing a donor till that element of the project is over? I imagine there must be a certain level of impatience to get on with it.

KI: Yes, it is a lot more work than it needed to be, but I also feel like it is more fulfilling than it could have been. We had always said that we would spend eight months touring it, and then after that, we would make a decision on who this potential person might be. However, it felt like the wait was inevitable, and if we hadn’t done the show, we would have had to try to find this person in some other way, which might have taken longer. It is almost easier to have people come to you and offer it than to actively seek out these individuals. So, in a way, I think that time is actually reduced. Otherwise, we would have to go through a sperm bank, and even then, the cost of doing so, or trying to find a way to pay for it, might have taken longer than this. But also, I’m a very patient person and I feel like if I can decide that things happen in a specific time frame, I’m sort of good with that. But it is the unknown that freaks me out, so in a way I think it’s helping me to go, okay, we’re going to do this for eight months, and then we’re definitely going to have enough people to choose between. So, we will have one person at the end of that. Then I know I’ve got six months to go after that. I feel like that certainty about the time frames is actually helpful.

 

 

OF: That makes perfect sense. I don’t have that same level of patience. When the time was right for me, I was very impatient to get pregnant. So, I was thinking it must be frustrating to want to get on with it but being committed to making a performance out of it [laughs].

KI: It may be a lot more work than it would have been, but maybe not. Actually, it might have been a different sort of work to go through a specific institutional system.

OF: So, having the process and timelines of making the piece forces the conversations you needed to have anyway, but in an intensive and exhaustive way. Do you feel like you’re gaining more clarity on any of your choices? Or are you still leaving everything quite open throughout the touring?

KI: When we did it here in London, I learned so much in that time. I feel that the information I received at that time was actually so helpful that I’m looking forward to continuing. I’m keeping my mind open because I don’t know what else I’m going to learn and who else is going to sit across from me. Someone might say something that will completely change my mind.

OF: Can you give me an example of something you thought you were sure about, but the discussion has changed you?

KI: The main thing was the relationship that we might have with the donor and the level of involvement they might have. Going into the process, my partner and I felt the third person could be someone who is around, but not necessarily in our lives. So, they might be around if the child wanted to meet them, but they would not necessarily be a figure in the child’s life. And I think we’ve both changed our minds about that after speaking to so many people, because it felt like the child would be missing out on something. And why not have a third person love them in a similar but different way? That’s probably the main thing that we’ve changed our mind on.

OF: Yes, that is a key consideration and one that I imagine would be hard to know if you’re making the best choice. When I was watching the performance, I kept wanting to weigh in on one question that you kept asking: whether to have one or two. So, I’m using this opportunity to do so. I think it’s ideal to have at least two because they play together. I have two, and they really do play with each other so much that it can be a relief.

KI: Yes, having multiple people love a child is better than fewer, whether siblings, potential donors, or donors’ parents, etc.

OF: Yes, there is also the closeness that siblings have with each other; you can’t replace that. On the other hand, I am aware that some artists feel strongly that it is ideal to have just one, so that your work isn’t interrupted again by another maternity leave and the period of caring for a helpless newborn alongside a toddler or older child. However, the change from zero to one is significant; accommodating a second is not as challenging. Although I have a suspicion that people with only one can keep continuity in their career more easily than people with two or more. Having a bigger gap between the two children can sometimes help. It will be great to see where this process takes you.

KI: Yes, that’s probably the one thing that people keep saying to me, Are you sure? Right now? Do it later!

OF: How old are you?

KI: I’m turning 30 soon. I have always been adamant that I will have a child at 30, ever since I was a child.

OF: Wow.

 

 

KI: Yes, I think people with kids are like, there’s no right time, do it whenever. And then some others say, ‘Don’t do it now.’ I feel like you can’t really know. Maybe you can?

OF: I remember being single in my 30s and thinking to myself, ‘When did Madonna have Lourdes?’ I found out that she was 38 when she had her, and I thought, ‘Phew, I’ve got time’ [laughs].

KI [laughs]: If Madonna can do it at 38, it’s all good.

OF: What a weird standard to hold oneself to.

KI: That’s really good to know. Thank you.

OF:  Interestingly, I recently realised that I had my second and final child when my mother had me, and I was her third and final child. So, our ages lined up in this parallel way without my fully consciously doing that. Out of curiosity, how old was your mum when she had you?

KI: That’s a good question. She was 30. Maybe that’s why… and I was the final child … so maybe somehow, I’ve done the same thing in my mind and paralleled it.

OF: So, you’re the baby too!

KI: Yes.

OF: Ok, so… because I’m the baby and my partner is the baby in his family. So, what about your partner, Logan? Is Logan the baby of their family?

KI: Yes.

 

 

OF: Apparently, it bodes well for couples to be the same birth order; you understand each other better. Apparently, middle children can go either way, but it can be harder for first children to be with someone who is not a first child.

KI: That makes sense, yeah, probably different levels of like, I don’t know, being responsible.

OF: Exactly, because we’re the kids, the baby of the family. It’s very different from being the oldest, I think.

To return to First Trimester, I attended the Friday night performance only, so I was wondering about the question of how you plan to raise your child regarding gender. Was that question asked?

KI: We had a related question: how would you feel if we raised the child without gender? Our answer is: we don’t entirely know. We have friends who have raised kids without gendering them, and we also have friends and family who have, and we’re not particularly sure yet. Obviously, we would never gender the child in terms of, ‘You can only play with trucks,’ and ‘You can only play with Barbies!’ That is not going to happen anyway, but in terms of, I guess, pronouns, we’re thinking that we will go with the gender assigned at birth until the child says otherwise. That is what we believe now, but we may change our minds depending on what we hear from others. Mostly, we have come to the conclusion, from conversations we have had with friends who are raising their kids without gendering them, that the tricky parts arise when they start school and have to deal with the external world and how it treats gender. That can push up against what they are trying to do. At the same time, part of me is like, let’s just do the easy thing. What do you think?

OF: I have raised my kids with the gender they were pronounced with at birth. But, of course, I’m not like, ‘only trucks for you!’ I agree with your taking the ‘path of least resistance’ and that the encounter with school and the outside world is where they will get many binary gender messages. I also think there is potentially so much pleasure to be had in gender; I cannot imagine saying no to gender altogether. I always try to push against and critique any normative expectations that those wider institutions might be setting. I’m raising my children to challenge those things. However, I have found myself making mistakes sometimes. When my daughter was very little, she once asked me, Will you teach me like a boy? I think she perceived that I taught her brother more or spoke to him differently. So, I tried to explain it wasn’t because he is a boy, but because he’s older and understands more. But I felt gutted by it; it just killed me that she thought it was a gendered thing. Dismayingly, I guess sometimes I react differently to their emotions because of their gender. Since I became conscious of it, I have tried to correct it.

KI: It’s tricky because it is ingrained and so it comes out without you realising, or in moments of distress, or if something is wrong. I’ve noticed that in my life, particularly with kids, when something is wrong and I’m stepping in to fix it, I can react in ways that, had I thought more carefully, I would have responded differently.

OF: Exactly. I noticed that most of the people you interviewed, when I attended, were young, and only one was older, already a parent. Did that dynamic shift in the other performances?

KI: No, I think it was skewed towards people in their 30s, and we don’t know why, because we had a whole participation team trying to find a range of people across ages, genders, cultures and races. It was interesting to see who, despite all that, ended up signing up and turning up to do it. Maybe it is just the age group of people that are thinking more actively about this right now; it’s more pressing in their lives.

 

 

OF: That makes sense. I found the conversation you had with the older person/parent on Friday night particularly moving and relatable. She explained how much respect she had for your project, that she very much admired the care and thought you were putting into planning your family, and that anyone wanting to start a family should do the same. In that way, she conveyed its wider resonance for and beyond the LGBTQ+ community.

Was there anyone you interviewed who expressed views that were politically surprising, or diametrically opposed to your views? Or was it mostly like-minded people participating?

KI: Yes, mostly, but there was a range. There were definitely people who, regarding certain issues, might have been politically aligned, and others, definitely not. The one thing I wish I had done differently is that in those moments, I tried to wrap up and move on to the next, so I didn’t have to deal with conflict in the moment. But for future shows, I’m trying to ask more questions about that specific thing or try to understand it a bit more, asking why they might have turned up if they held views that don’t necessarily align with mine.

OF: That really highlights the benefit of having the piece tour. Could you give me an example of one of those missed opportunities?

KI: One participant volunteered because he happened to see the ‘Sperm Donors Wanted’ advertisement on Instagram. He was a straight man and completely removed from the queer community. Halfway through the conversation, there was the question: ‘How do you feel about open relationships?’ And, uh oh, I think he was like, ‘I don’t understand it.’ He had a definite answer: he was against it. So, I asked him how he would feel if he donated to someone who might be in an open relationship. He was very adamantly against it, and I didn’t take the opportunity to say, ‘well, my partner and I are in an open relationship, so how do you feel sitting here?’ But I didn’t, I sort of just skipped past it because I felt like I didn’t want to push it. But there was no bad energy. I could have easily done it, but for some reason, I stopped myself. I tried to work out why he thought that, and so I left still thinking about it, which was frustrating.

OF: It will be interesting to see what happens if you take a more questioning or curious approach in future. Another question that might have brought out divisive answers, which I really admired you asking, was: ‘Would you feel differently about donating to someone if you knew they had terminated a pregnancy?’ The one time I witnessed you asking, the person said they would want to know more about the circumstances.

KI: Yeah, I feel like those are the moments where I could definitely have asked why and what the circumstances were. Clearly, I have a definite answer to that, which is that you should be able to do it whenever you want. If you feel like you need to know more about that, you are probably not going to be my donor. Those moments where the answer felt opposed to my views, I didn’t necessarily need to push it further.

 

 

OF: That precise issue of bodily autonomy is exactly where there should be greater solidarity between people who call themselves feminists and trans activists. That is why I asked the question about feminist performance art on maternity that you felt was trans exclusionary, knowing at the same time that you are deeply influenced by feminist performance art. I’m invested in finding connections, rather than stressing divides. So, if you could clarify how those works were trans exclusionary, or was it simply ignorant of transness? Or was it the kind of work that, in centring the artist’s individual experience, does not attend to identifications outside it?

KI: Exclusion can happen in lots of different ways. ‘Feminist performance art’ as a movement has existed across decades. One show being ‘exclusionary’ or just ‘leaving out’ transness does not make the ‘exclusion,’ but the entire landscape as a whole does. ‘Feminist performance art’ is sometimes synonymous with white-ness and cis-ness. By that, I mean the big feminist performance artists we know of and remember (we can probably name more white cis women artists than anyone else). History, language, and how we contextualise works all contribute to the ‘exclusion.’ So, it might not be the performances, but it could be in the medical context or even in an abortion rights context. It could be in terms of who we remember and who we deem artists. Who do we hold up and to what standards? I think there are lots of different aspects to the exclusionary rules that exist.