Gemma Rolls-Bentley has been working as a curator for almost two decades, providing a platform primarily for queer-identifying artists. In her recently published book Queer Art: From Canvas to Club, and the Spaces Between, she highlights queer creativity from across the globe, spanning the 1960s to the present day. Here we talk about how she claims a space for queer and QTIPOC artists, not only asserting their existence, but showcasing their incredible talent.
You have done a lot for queer representation in the art world. After two decades of successful curation, what prompted you to create this book?
I think there were a couple of different factors. Number one was very simply that a few people had asked me where to buy a good book that offered an introduction to contemporary queer art. These were people from outside the art world, and I couldn’t really find anything to recommend them. There certainly wasn’t anything that had been published in the last ten years, which is wild, because there is so much amazing queer art out there, historical and contemporary.
As you mention in the book, queer art doesn’t often exist in museums or galleries, but in nightclubs, theatres, and the streets. How did you go about finding the more ‘underground’ artists?
Finding the artists who exist outside of the mainstream art world was definitely challenging in many ways. A lot of those artists have moved. For example, Leilah Babirye, a Ugandan artist now lives in New York. Charmaine Poh, who is a Singaporean artist, lives in Berlin. The places that those artists are coming from are not necessarily safe for them to live, but I knew there would still be artists working in places like that. That did involve more research, and it was a lot of reading articles, working through lists, or looking at exhibitions that had been organised throughout history.
You mentioned in a past interview that in the last decade, 60% of London’s gay bars have closed. How and where are young queer people today finding new spaces to make up for this?
This has two answers. One part has to do with younger people connecting in different ways. For example, people use apps to connect and so the need to go to a bar and find people physically isn’t as prominent. The other thing is that a lot of those venues revolved around drugs and alcohol. I think younger people particularly are much less interested in drugs and alcohol now and perhaps, as a community, our relationship to drugs and alcohol has changed. As a result, I’m seeing lots of different things crop up. Personally, I’ve hosted quite a few queer family meetups, and I see a lot of meetups around banner making and political activism. I think that feels very constructive.
When I was going through the book, what struck me was the lack of self consciousness in the artwork. Is this freedom of expression something that you see in queer art in general, or was this a trend that you looked for during your selection process?
No, it wasn’t part of my selection criteria — it must just be a trend! For queer people, it can sometimes be challenging to make sense of your own self. Art can be a really powerful way to navigate some of those complicated questions about identity. I know that, for myself, art has definitely been a sounding board. There are particular artists that really resonate with me and others that make sense to other people. To bring them together really speaks to the nuanced experience of queerness, which looks totally different for every single person.
Generally, do you see the accepted canon as a safe space for queer artists, or is its exclusive nature part of the reason why other spaces have to be found? Is it better for queer artists to be paving their own way rather than trying to break into that established canon?
Historically, the mainstream art world has excluded queer and trans artists, and it has been a very unsafe space for them. That has definitely shifted in recent times. Certainly in the Western world, there is a lot of interest for LGBTQIA+ artists in galleries and museums. To be given space within those institutions is really important, but it’s not straightforward. There’s a lot of work to be done to make sure that it’s truly nurturing and doesn’t verge into the exploitative. Despite that, there are some amazing organisations that are queer-led with really strong queer leaders or allies.
Your final chapter includes a section titled ‘Queertopia’. What does that mean?
I love that you asked about this. So queertopia is the idea of a queer-utopia. There are so many artists posing the question of what that looks like, by challenging some of the restrictions and problems that the queer community faces in the real world. A lot of them are exploring imagined worlds, future worlds, on different planets and sometimes in the digital space. I think we should look at what they’re doing and try to fix some of the problems we have here, particularly for the trans community who are facing unprecedented challenges all over the world. It’s easy to look at these landmark wins for the community and think, ‘okay, it’s fixed’, but actually it’s not fixed at all. For a lot of members of the community it’s getting worse all the time, whether that’s for trans people, or for black and brown queers. It’s really important that people keep that in mind and think about what we can do collectively to make the world better for everybody in it.
Ahead of the Scottish launch of her book, Gemma Rolls-Bentley will be in conversation with artist Prem Sahib at JUPITER RISING, the art and music festival set in the iconic landscape of Jupiter Artland. The festival takes place on Saturday 17 August, Bonnington House, Wilkieston, Edinburgh EH27 8BY.
Words by Alekia Gill
