THE ACROBATICS OF THE DIVINE

EXHIBITION STATEMENT

Homoeroticized male bodies, flowers, and religion make a most unusual and queer trinity, yet this combination repeatedly appears throughout religious texts. An early example of this can be found in “The Contendings of Horus and Set,” an ancient Egyptian story first reported in the Kahun Papyri from ca. 2025-1700BC. In the text, Set, the god of chaos, tries to claim dominance over his nephew, Horus, and, by extension, all of Egypt by sodomizing him. Nonetheless, Horus cleverly outwits Set by ejaculating into a head of lettuce and tricking him into eating it. Later, during a tribunal of other gods, Horus demonstrates his authority by summoning his semen from Set, showcasing his power and readiness to rule over Egypt. (1) “The Contendings of Horus and Set,” as well as other similar tales, underscore the complex and historical weaving of images of queerness, religion, and flowers. 

In Ancient Greece, Conon, a writer from 63BC-14AD, recorded a version of the myth of Narcissus. The myth begins with Narcissus rejecting a man who is deeply in love with him. Narcissus not only rejects him, citing his unattractive appearance but gifts him a sword with instructions that he should kill himself. The man does so but first prays for retribution to Eros, a minor god of love, who hears his plea and curses Narcissus to fall in love with his own reflection in a pool of water. This infatuation consumes Narcissus, leading him to waste away until all that remains is the narcissus flower, which sprouts from his decaying body. (2) Similar transfigurations occur to queer men elsewhere in Greek mythology, including Adonis, Crocus, Cyparissus, Hyacinth, Lycurgus, and Melus, just to name a few. 

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The figure of Jesus is no exception to this pattern either, as apocryphal stories repeated by Allen Swenson in Flowers of the Bible and How to Grow Them suggest that easter lilies grew from Jesus’ sweat during his crucifixion. There has also been extensive speculation on Jesus’ sexuality, with many biblical proponents, including the namesake of the King James translation, King James VI and I, claiming that Jesus loved men in a queer way when defending his relationship with George Villiers in a statement to his Privy Council: “For Jesus Christ did the same, and therefore I cannot be blamed. Christ had his John [John the Apostle], and I have my George.” (3) 

The above stories are tragic and feature extensive persecution. In the exhibition The Acrobatics of the Divine, I rebel against that by centering pleasure and joy. The work presents a fantastical utopia where these symbols of harm, hatred, and homophobia are reversed and becomes the site of pleasure and joy. This criticism, which also extends to Christianity, is supported by the impetus and work of John O'Reilly. O'Reilly, famed Worcester photomontagist, has greatly inspired my work since I discovered him in 2019 at the Worcester Art Museum's exhibition Photo Revolution: Andy Warhol to Cindy Sherman. In The Acrobatics of the Divine, I borrow conceptual and material components of O'Reilly's work and collage them into my practice, namely his reclamation of religious iconography, the utilization of self-portraiture, and the exploration of photomontagic processes. 

Growing up in a household shadowed by devout Christianity influenced my understanding of my sexuality, and being able to reclaim those images in this work has been incredibly empowering. This rebellion is not against Christianity but rather against the power it exercises as bishops, prelates, pastors, and others across all denominations attempt to force queer individuals into second-class citizenship. These images reflect the hypocrisy of oppression by highlighting and delighting in the homoerotic moments found in religious artwork: the nearly nude depictions of Jesus and Saint Sebastian, a shirtless St. John the Baptist, or the Le génie du mal, a sculpture of Lucifer criticized for being too attractive. In making this work, I have discovered that my pleasure should take center stage.

In earlier works, I would occasionally include my own image, but here, I have made myself the central figure. My research into John O'Reilly inspired this inclusion as he consistently appears in his work, providing critique and presence. Reflecting on the role I could play, I decided to see myself in the piece as a representation of the everyday man and provide contrast to the art history canon and the picture-perfect pornographic and erotically charged bodies. Recently, there has been extensive debate surrounding the depiction of queer utopias, pleasure, and liberation in media, namely Troye Sivan’s Rush music video, Lil Nas X’s work, and the fatphobic attacks against Sam Smith. I find myself frustrated as rarely do any of the figures in these moments of utopia or pleasure look like me. In The Acrobatics of the Divine, I solve that by making myself, and everyone who looks like me, the central figure. In this fantastical world, I can be God and Adam, a voyeur watching across the picture plane, St. Sebastian tied to a post, and perhaps most importantly, I can be an erotically charged body just like the other figures in the artwork. 

My self-portraiture work led me to continue experimenting with photographic processes. Before these experiments, I considered myself strictly an analog collagist. However, The Acrobatics of the Divine utilizes a variety of photomontage techniques that allow further depth and intricacy. These processes, such as rephotographing and printing collaged elements, allowed my artistic hand to be enhanced and shared on a much larger and grander scale. 

The Acrobatics of the Divine is thus a rebellious celebration of pleasure and joy, reclaiming symbols of harm from religion and homophobia. Inspired by John O'Reilly's photomontages, my work challenges religious institutions' power over queer individuals. Through self-portraiture and experimentation with photographic processes, I create a fantastical world where pleasure becomes a divine conduit, inviting viewers to rediscover liberation and empowerment.

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 (1) Alan Henderson Gardiner, The Library of A. Chester Beatty: Description of a Hieratic Papyrus with a Mythological Story, Love-Songs, and Other Miscellaneous Texts, by Alan H. Gardiner ... The Chester Beatty Papyri, N° 1, with 31 Plates in Monochrome and 30 in Line by Emery Walker .. (London: E. Walker, 1931) <http://catalogue.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/cb32145030s> [accessed 21 February 2023]. pp 21-23. 

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(2)  Conon, ‘Narratives of Conon, Library of Photius’, trans. by Brady Kiesling <https://topostext.org/work/489> [accessed 17 February 2023]; Alan Henderson Gardiner. par 24.

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(3) My Dear Boy: Gay Love Letters through the Centuries, ed. by Rictor Norton, 1st ed (San Francisco: Leyland Publications, 1998). p 65.