genderlessness

Apologies for the radio silence recently, I've been working on a conference paper for an upcoming event in Taiwan (I'll blog about that soon). But in the mean time, some words:

I’ve been thinking a lot about academic writing using autobiography, and about the difficulties of striking a balance between anger and scholarly rigor (whatever that is, I've yet to achieve it). The book Why are faggots so afraid of faggots: flaming challenges to masculinity, objectification, and the desire to conform - a collection of essays edited by Mattilda Bernstein Sycamore has prompted this, as well as my disenchantment with a lot of academic writing which is, frankly, unreadable and pitched in its humanless tone at a privileged few, one of which, in spite of being half way through my PhD, I (thankfully, or perhaps, worringly) don’t consider myself to be. I heard recently a fellow PhD student say that during the research process, the thought of being a ‘writer’ doesn’t occur until the final stages. This is far from my experience. For me, writing is as important, if not more important, than the data collecting, the reviewing of literature and a whole host of other rather shudder-inducing bullet points in the thesis recipe.

I thought I’d try writing, quite informally about my own experience as a queer person, as a particular type of queer person; someone who presents themselves as gender neutral/gender queer; someone who feels marginalised (thankfully, or perhaps, worryingly) from mainstream gay male culture; someone who feel marginalised within academia (or, at least, in my own higher education institution); someone who constantly carries around class guilt at referring to myself as being from a ‘working class background’ but having found myself, having tumbled down the rabbit hole, in the very privileged position of studying a funded PhD; someone who feels perpetually underequipped for higher education, due, partially to this guilt, partially to my queerness, and partially to my constant eye-rolling at the absurd world of academia. I said once in a queer reading group (eye roll), that I thought that writing a thesis, particularly in the arts and humanities is an act of narcissism, that essentially we spend three years researching and writing, about ourselves. I don’t necessarily think this is a bad thing, I think there is real value in research that is rooted in the personal, that’s angry and involved, and a bit bruised and damaged. That said: I will now write about ME.

I think constantly about gender. It’s pretty much my main preoccupation. We were sat in Soho square one summer day, and a drunk old woman, who we assumed had been sleeping beside us, suddenly arose and crawled towards us (like Sadako mounting the inside of the well in Ringu) and exclaimed to me “you think you’re a woman, but you’re not”. A violent start to an uncomfortable and incoherent conversation. My friend later said, of the rather unusual exchange: “It’s weird that she said that, it must have been the only time we’ve ever not been talking about your gender issues.” While this was said in jest, like most funny things, it was based somewhat on the truth. What is it about me that day that said to a woman – with her eyes closed – that I believed myself to a woman? My appearance often elicits a double take (sometimes welcome, othertimes an awful intrusion, stop looking at me, get a grip etc.), because I happily present myself as femme, but she couldn’t see me. My voice, to the unenlightened is a man’s, camp and sibilant at times, but I’m not softly spoken; I bark. And bark even louder when I’ve had a few cans of red stripe in the sun. Not to mention I swear like a fucking trooper. I think ultimately, what stumped me and my friends that day was that my gender presentation is fast becoming an afterthought to us, there isn’t, I’d like to think, anything contrived about it (or at least no more so than anyone else’s), for the past ten years I’ve worn makeup and had long hair, and while at first it was an act of some delayed teenage rebellion, and a plea to be noticed, it is now something that I don’t really think about- unless someone else’s response to me makes me think about it. The act of putting makeup on is no more or less part of my routine than brushing my teeth. My close friends, too, are taken aback if someone says something offensive or stares or nudges a friend on the tube to point at me, because they don’t see anything else other than Sean. What is everyone else seeing? And why are they interested?

An interesting thing happened at work today. Three or four of my colleagues, who have all seen me present as femme for many years now, commented on me wearing a bright pink tshirt. My response was, perhaps defensively, perhaps self-deprecatingly, “I thought I’d go for something a bit more masculine today.” Would they comment on a cis woman colleague wearing a pink tshirt? Maybe. Maybe I’m thinking about it too much. I probably am. But I can’t help but think that people who compliment what appears to be a boy who presents as femme are really saying “I get it, I’m okay with it.” A round of applause all round. It’s just a pink fucking tshirt. I know I’m defensive about this, but I’ve been conditioned this way (spit on me in Manchester as you cycle past on your bike, take a picture of me on your iPhone on the bus, called me a tranny etc. etc. etc.), much the way that my colleagues have been conditioned to make doubly sure that I know that they ‘accept’ me, just the way that boring oafs on the tube have been conditioned to resent women, and anything/anyone feminine by proxy.

I do think about gender all the time. I have to, I’m constantly reminded about it, whether I want to be or not. When I was an undergraduate, I was asked to leave the men’s toilets in the student union club because they thought I was a woman, a bouncer then removed me from the women’s toilet. My friend, who remembers the event more clearly than I do, told me the next day I had said to the bouncer “where am I supposed to piss then? A pint pot?” the answer I’ve learnt, is not a pint pot, but the disabled toilets, which I feel incredibly guilty about using, because I am able bodied. I am reminded about gender every time I need to use a public toilet, because of other people’s discomfort. Not my own.

I'm reminded of gender when I'm in gay bars. Where women and trans people are cast aside, where gay men aspire to be seen as 'straight-acting', where beards have become currency.

I was reminded of gender on the bus the other evening, I was going to my friend’s for dinner. I could hear a group of school boys behind having a very involved conversation about whether I was a ‘man or a girl’ (funny that I become infantilised if the latter is the case). I didn’t really think much of it, aside from being mildly irritating (and a bit surprising; for once I had no makeup on, my hair was tied up and I was wearing a bloody hoody). But afterwards I thought about it again and about how intrusive the conversation was, because, since they didn’t seem to be able to glean any idea of my gender from my appearance, what their curiosity ultimately boiled down to was about my genitals. I expect more from kids usually, they tend to know better than their parents, but on the other hand how long can we excuse people’s behavior because of youth? When they turn 18? 21? When they have a child? When they or someone they know is a victim of misogyny, transphobia or homophobia? (to borrow a phrase coined by Nigella Lawson – intimate terrorism).

I’m constantly aware (and feel guilty about- I am part of the twitter generation after all) of my privileges. Even as a queer person, I am very privileged. I am able to be very visibly and unapologetically queer, I’m not sure I’d be afforded such a luxury if I still lived in Sunderland. But until people stop thinking about my genitals, I won’t be able to. I’ll keep banging on about my gender identity and about gender inequality until I stop being reminded about them by other people’s incapacity for critical thought. Sometimes I’m happy to engage with people who are curious about gender variance, but other times, I wonder why it’s my fucking place to educate them.

I’ll finish with a song.


 

Virtual tour of 'Master-Mistress' exhibition

Our exhibition finishes tomorrow (Friday 7th) and I became a bit anxious that photographs aren't adequate to document an exhibition that involves sound, so I did a spot of filming on Tuesday and made a little 'virtual tour' of the exhibition. (I am not, as will become evident when you watch it, a natural film-maker)

 
'Master- Mistress' at Sutton House, Hackney from Sean Curran on Vimeo.

I'm so happy with how the exhibition looked and sounded, and the feedback has been overwhelmingly positive, with a few really interesting and constructive criticisms as well, it will certainly give me a lot to write about in my thesis.

Here are a few photographs from the exhibition too:

(Pictures were taken by the artist Judith Brocklehurst.)

A reminder that if you want to listen to the panel event that accompanied the exhibition, you can do so here.

So what next? I'm speaking at Central Saint Martin's in April to some undergraduate curating students about the exhibition, and speaking more broadly about queer interventions in historic houses at a conference in Taipei in June, which is both very exciting, and utterly bonkers.

Next I will be looking at this absurd house, the idea I have is fittingly camp and ridiculous, I'll blog about that project as it unfolds.

Just a few thank yous: the brilliant Judith Brocklehurst, Christopher Cleeve, Gemma Bending, Surat Knan, Louise Chambers, Zia X, Eleanor Margolis, Jan Pimblett, Oliver Winchester, Claire Hayward, Naomi Campbell, Robynn Finney and Helen Rowse.

Also a massive thanks to everyone who came along to the exhibition and to the event. And thanks to everyone who has had to put up with me banging on about this project since last November!

“Anthem for doomed youth”?: exploring conflict and resolution through archives

Join us on Tuesday, March 25th 2014, for our annual 'Friends of Newsam Library & Archives’ (FNLA) Study Day. This year’s event, “Anthem for doomed youth”?: exploring conflict and resolution through archives, considers the concepts of war, conflict and peace through the lense of learning and education.

Document Reference: BDN/64

The day’s programme:

9.45-10.00	Welcome and Introductions (Sean Curran)
10.00-10.30	Activities in the Library and Archives (Sarah Aitchison)
10.30-11.30	Professor Stuart Foster Centenary First World War Battlefields Project
11.30-12.30	Dr Barry Blades, Teachers and the Great War, 1914-1919
12.30-13.30	Lunch (please bring your own). Tea and coffee will be provided.
13.30- 14.30	Walter Lewis, Educating Service Children in the 20th Century
14.30-15.30	Alix Hall, Thinking Outside the Box: Using Archives to Teach Perspectives on Wartime
15.30-16.00	Archive showcase of relevant collections from the Library Special Collections and Archives

Where: Newsam Library & Archives, Institute of Education, 20 Bedford Way, London

When: Tuesday, 25 March 2014 from 09:30 to 16:00

Register for free tickets here.

Find out more about the Friends of Newsam Library & Archives, including how to become a member, here.

"Challenging histories" at Sutton House

On Thursday 13th, we celebrated LGBT History Month at Sutton House, Hackney, in an event to support the 'Master-Mistress' exhibition, which runs until 7th March. The event was called 'Challenging Histories: what place do LGBTQ identities have in museums and historic houses' and was so well attended that people had to sit on the window-sills in the beautiful Great Chamber.

The discussion raised many interesting ideas and questions, and we could have run for longer than we did- but hopefully we have peaked people's interests for future events.

 Below is the podcast of the evening, I'm hoping to put it on iTunes at some point- but it's beyond my technical capabilities, so this will have to suffice for now.

I'd also like to thank again the four speakers for the event; Jan, Claire, Naomi and Oliver, and of course to the team at Sutton House for being such great hosts!
 

I hope this is a conversation that will continue amongst everyone who attended, and amongst other National Trust properties.

Rainbow Jews exhibition

Just a very quick post today as I'm putting the last minute touches on the questions for tonight's Challenging Histories: what place do LGBTQ identities have in museums and historic houses? event. (DO COME!)







































I've mentioned the Rainbow Jews project on this blog before, and the project leader Surat Knan was one of the voice contributors for the 'Master-Mistress' exhibition, and finally all of the hard work has paid off and the exhibition is up and running at LSE until 28th February. I braved the 80mph winds yesterday to pay it a visit.

Rainbow Jews is a unique oral history and archive project, exploring the intersection of Jewish and LGBT identities. The exhibition includes snippets (both audio and text based) from some of the interviews, videos and objects that celebrate LGBT Jewish identities. I highly recommend a visit, it's a truly historic move to capture these narratives where so many before have been lost and unrecorded.

You can find out more here.

There's an article about the launch event here.

Coverage of 'Master-Mistress'

Just thought I'd share some of the coverage we've had for 'Master-Mistress'.

I've been delighted in the interest in the exhibition so far, it's appeared on various listing sites, but I'll highlight a few:

Elle UK have listed the exhibition as one of their 'Alternative Valentine's Day' recommendations here.

We were featured on the homepage of Destination Hackney for a few days, though I can't find the link to the feature itself anymore!

We're also mentioned on the Hackney Gazette page here. (although they have misquoted me saying the sonnets are "suggestive", which I'm pretty sure I've never said!

I had a short interview with Laura Raphael who wrote these great pieces on East London Lines and Shades of Noir.

We appeared in a feature about LGBT History Month events in the Hackney Today newspaper (on two separate days!) (apologies for the blurry pictures)

and we also had a tweet from Diane Abbott Labour MP for Hackney North and Stoke Newington (hopefully not all of her 62.3K followers will visit at once)

Shakespeare's Fair Youth Sonnets being read at Sutton House for LGBT History Month #lgbtsmallsteps http://t.co/whewIKq4PF
— Diane Abbott MP (@HackneyAbbott) February 6, 2014

It's really promising that the exhibition, and LGBT History Month more broadly is stirring up interest, hopefully the coverage will help persuade people to come to the panel event at Sutton House tomorrow 'Challenging Histories: what place do LGBTQ identities have in historic houses?' you can find more information here.

Don't forget to check out the LGBT History Month calendar for other great events.

'Master-Mistress' at Sutton House

Less than a week to go until my first curating venture opens... myself and artist Judith Brocklehurst set it up earlier this week and everything is looking and sounding great. I'm really excited to see what people make of it, and I hope the visitors will leave feedback, as aside from curating this exhibition as part of my volunteering at Sutton House, it will also form one of three practice led case studies for my research.

See below the 'e-flyer' for the exhibition and events to accompany it. There's also a little teaser picture of one of the artworks. I'll post more pictures once the exhibition is open, and write a post about the event on the 13th too, which I'm hoping will be a really interesting debate.

More details about the exhibition and event can be found on the LGBT History Month calendar. And the facebook events are here and here.

Notes on 'Notes on Neo-Camp'

Last night I attended a panel discussion called 'Notes on Camp' at the ICA, which aimed to 'interrogate the term camp and consider its relevance to contemporary art'. Oddly enough, it seemed that the focus of the discussion was actually the term neo-camp - a rather muddy term coined by curator of 'Notes on Neo-Camp', Chris Sharp. It was this confusion over the attempt to revise, reclaim or reimagine the already heavily contested term camp that caused a lot of discomfort for me.

The panel was chaired by the brilliant Gavin Butt, whose work I find really challenging and interesting. The panellists were: Chris Sharp, who, following a rather exhausting article about so called neo-camp, curated the exhibition 'Notes on Neo-Camp'; Daniel Sinsel, whose artworks were included in the exhibition; and Ellen Feiss, who had reviewed the exhibition.

In homage to Sontag's Notes on Camp (and through laziness) I'll put my thoughts about the event in note form.

1. Gavin Butt's interpretation of camp was the only one that echoed my own, he said that camp was an answer to "straight seriousness", for when sincerity was not enough. He highlighted three key changes that have occurred post-Sontag's seminal essay; when written, pop culture as we now know it was in its infancy, now sincere speech is not taken at face value in the age of political spin, ideologies are no longer so readily believed or unchallenged; he referred to "come dine with me" syndrome- i.e.: the way that "trashy consumerist taste" now dominates in ways that it didn't in the early to mid 1960s; and finally, LGBT political and legal developments- meaning that (arguably) LGBT people no longer need to find a place in society solely through irony and aestheticism.

2. Both Chris and Dan's interpretation of 'neo-camp' was to do with the covert, the unspoken, the euphemism and the suggestive gesture; some sort of coded language. They both seemed to identify camp as solely the territory of the gay male- which I find quite a difficult thing to get on board with. Ellen criticised the exhibition as being under-theorised in the context of camp, and Sontag's essay- which all three seemed to be quite dismissive of, and Chris in particular seemed to suggest was not relevant anymore.

3. While I agreed with a lot of Ellen's critique of the term 'neo-camp', the examples she gave to endorse her own reading of camp were equally troubling, there were a lot of erect penises and imagery of queer activism. The heavy focus on (homo)erotica I found quite unusual, it's not camp. Likewise, the political elements of camp (which Sontag refutes by suggesting that camp is apolitical - presumably in the sense that its aim is never to be political, regardless of whether the outcome is or not) for me, are only a small part of what camp is, and the focus on queerness (read "white gay men") was completely misguided. Women, queer or otherwise, were barely a footnote in this discussion.

4. Ellen highlighted an image of an object (if memory serves it was a ladder) that was rendered functionless because of the way it was arranged - she identified this as camp. This is one of many examples where queer (or queered) art works were misdiagnosed as camp (or neo-camp).

5. There was a lot of talk about us living in a "post-marriage" queer time. And a post queers in the military time. Chris identified neo-camp as being post-closet, but it seems to be that neo-camp is indeed post-camp, in other words, a product of assimilation. Assimilation that I feel is thoroughly un-queer and the realm of a tediously homonormative approach to LGBT politics.

6. Dan and Chris both suggested that, the very fact that ICA was having this discussion showed that camp has become institutionalised, I think this talk proved quite the opposite- that camp has been tamed, sanitised and diluted into a completely different, less exciting (/comprehensible) beast, for the purpose of academia and visual art.

7. The strongest comment, for me, came from a woman in the audience, who said that 'camp is female'. This comment aside, there was no mention of the role women have played in the story of camp. (I recommend Pamela Robertson's Guilty Pleasures: feminist camp from Mae West to Madonna as a good counter to this).

8. While a very interesting discussion, the fact that Chris Sharp's exhibition (and thus, by proxy, Daniel Sinsel's work) had been framed as 'neo-camp', made it difficult to engage wholly with any aspect of it, as a great deal of their images seemed to me, the very antithesis of camp. Thankfully, Gavin Butt in his closing remarks, admitted that many of the images shown throughout the talk had prompted the reaction 'I don't think that's camp at all' from himself.

9. Without having seen the exhibition, it's unfair to be dismissive of it, but based on this discussion, Neo-Camp seems to me to be straight, highbrow, abstract and thoroughly un-camp. I'm not sure I can even imagine what a "new" camp might look like, or even if this body of work could be called post-camp- it seems to me that 'anti-camp' is a more appropriate term.

10. As my friend Judith, who I attended the talk with, said; perhaps once you start theorising camp, you kill it. However, I'm sure that won't stop us trying...