I visited this exhibit on Saturday, 18 July. I had wanted to go with friends, but I ended up going alone. In the end that was best. I was able to spend as much time as I wanted in the exhibit—I walked through the whole thing twice, more slowly the second time—and fully absorb the emotional response I had to it. It’s taken over a week for me to finally put together the words to describe what I saw and felt.
The entrance to the exhibit faced the other side of the testimony wall. On it were projected portraits of some of the LGBT people Muholi has photographed. I didn’t spend much time looking at those portraits at first, though I spent more time my second walk through the exhibit. I was more curious about what was on the other side of the wall. When I rounded the corner and began reading I felt…is “devastated” too strong a word to use? I did not cry out or weep or fall to my knees, but on the inside that is what I felt like my soul was doing.
I spent a lot of time reading and re-reading that wall. Even though I am well aware such things go on even here in the United States, the lack of human decency, the lack of compassion floored me. In the name of tradition or in the name of a god these people are harassed, beaten, raped, even murdered, and the government seems to do nothing to stop this reign of terror those who profess to be heterosexual and cis-gendered rain on those known or suspected of being LGBT. (I say “profess”, because this level of hatred comes from a deep place inside each person that suggests self hatred to me. “How dare you openly be what I am too much of a coward to accept in myself?”)
From there I moved, as if in a daze, to the wall of portraits. My first time through I took in the wall as a whole, but my second time through I spent time in front of each one. I wondered how can anyone look at each precious individual, look into their eyes, and declare who they are is wrong simply because of their sexual orientation and/or gender identity? How can someone look into their eyes and ostracize them, verbally abuse them, fail to celebrate their lives and loves, murder them, and think themselves morally superior? What kind of person would do such things? How do they live with themselves?
Anyone who would do such things to or think such things about my LGBT sisters and brothers, about me, is not someone I would want in my life.
I spent time reading the wall that outlines some of the acts of violence committed against LGBT people in each of the listed years. I noticed the numbers jumped sharply in 2012 and 2014. You would think more recent history would show greater acceptance. Apparently not.
In another room was artwork displayed as examples of the kind of headlines newspapers would use to describe the acts of violence against LGBT people. In front of them was a glass coffin with a self-portrait of the artist inside of it. The description on the wall says the floral arrangement uses some of the same colors associated with weddings, a joyous occasion. The irony was not lost on me.
I was amazed to discover the news artwork was done entirely in beadwork! Because I primarily identify as a photographer I sometimes forget my other creative abilities can be incorporated in my art. This display opened my mind to future possibilities in my own work.
The whole exhibit wasn’t sad though. The lives of LGBT people are full of both joy and pain, as is anyone else’s life. There was blurred video of Muholi making love with her partner. There were wedding photos and a video of one wedding celebration. I watched that through twice, because it made me happy. The couple’s families participated in the celebration, and a minister preached on love as he married them. It was beautiful to see.
This is normal: the life, the lovemaking, the marriage, the death. Muholi’s exhibit shows the joyful normal alongside the painful normal. It is all part of being human, and LGBT people are no less human than anyone else.
There was an exhibition book for visitors to browse. I didn’t find the book in the museum gift shoppe. I need to see if I can find it, because I want to add it to my art collection.