Zanele Muholi: Vukani/Rise
Open Eye Gallery, Liverpool: 18th September – 29th November 2015
Zanele Muholi describes herself as a Visual Activist whose work documents the LGBTI community, focusing mainly on participants from South Africa. This project aims to provide visual awareness and an understanding to those who know little about the experiences and lifestyles of this community of people.
Upon entering the Open Eye Gallery, we are faced with 184 portraits of black members of the LGBTI community in a body of work named ‘Faces and Phases’ (2006–2015).
The images are laid out in a grid format which gives the impression of solidarity within the community but has several ‘missing’ images. In a video interview with Muholi, displayed later on in the exhibition, we discover that that these blank spaces depict those members of the community that have passed away following brutal hate crimes and HIV, among other awful eventualities. After discovering this and revisiting ‘Faces and Phases’, the missing portraits hold poignant significance - a simplistic, yet stark reminder of the harsh reality some of these people face.
We discussed the option to display the names of each participant below their portrait with Thomas, the head curator, and were told that each image will shortly include a nameplate but this is yet to be arranged. I did think that this would be a welcome addition to the collection as that way, the community can be both viewed as a strong and connected but the viewer will also be reminded that each person is unique and has their own identity.
The second room holds some self-portraits named ZaVa (2013) showing Muholi and her partner together. The couple are seen relaxing in their home and have a natural and easygoing feel about them due to the soft lighting and their relaxed embrace with one another. I think that the inclusion of herself within this project, baring all in a personal moment and gazing back into the lens shows how proud she is to be herself and show others that it is acceptable to do so.
For me, the layout of these images in diptic and triptic format prolongs the duration of their time together rather than disrupting it.
Along the next wall in the second room, we are presented with Brave Beauties (2013-2014), a series of 12 portraits of gay and early stage transgender men in a variety of body shapes and sizes. The men are not holding typical fashion-related poses and their natural stances suggest the feeling of vulnerability. Although I do not know these people personally, I almost feel a sense of pride for them that they have been strong enough to ‘bare all’ in the physical and emotional sense of the term.
These are the images within Muholi’s collection that I connected with the most as I appreciate the realness and honesty displayed by the participants.
In contrast, Mo(u)rning (2014) did not resonate with me as a viewer. I did like the symmetrical layout and simplistic idea of capturing a moment by candlelight but I was distracted by the reflective glass coverings on the images. I think the rest of the exhibition felt more raw and tangible due to the portraits being unframed.
The final stage of the exhibition, a documentary room with multiple screens to watch alone with headphones or as a group on loud, was held upstairs. I did find it refreshing to have to sit and take time to discover more information about the history of the LGBTI community and detailed reasoning behind the exhibition because nowadays, information is quite often instantly available for us.
I think that if masses of information was held alongside the images within written testimonies, for example, these would have distracted from the power created by the portraits. I enjoyed having the opportunity to decipher my own story about each participant after looking at their portrait and discovering later on if this was the intention of the photographer and matched the story she wanted to tell.
Overall, I found Muholi’s exhibition to be very touching and in my opinion, successful. Her intention was to raise awareness for her community and show that they are a group of real people with real emotions living normal lives that deserve to be accepted and I definitely think this has been achieved.
Upon entering the Open Eye Gallery, we are faced with 184 portraits of black members of the LGBTI community in a body of work named ‘Faces and Phases’ (2006–2015).
The images are laid out in a grid format which gives the impression of solidarity within the community but has several ‘missing’ images. In a video interview with Muholi, displayed later on in the exhibition, we discover that that these blank spaces depict those members of the community that have passed away following brutal hate crimes and HIV, among other awful eventualities. After discovering this and revisiting ‘Faces and Phases’, the missing portraits hold poignant significance - a simplistic, yet stark reminder of the harsh reality some of these people face.
We discussed the option to display the names of each participant below their portrait with Thomas, the head curator, and were told that each image will shortly include a nameplate but this is yet to be arranged. I did think that this would be a welcome addition to the collection as that way, the community can be both viewed as a strong and connected but the viewer will also be reminded that each person is unique and has their own identity.
The second room holds some self-portraits named ZaVa (2013) showing Muholi and her partner together. The couple are seen relaxing in their home and have a natural and easygoing feel about them due to the soft lighting and their relaxed embrace with one another. I think that the inclusion of herself within this project, baring all in a personal moment and gazing back into the lens shows how proud she is to be herself and show others that it is acceptable to do so.
For me, the layout of these images in diptic and triptic format prolongs the duration of their time together rather than disrupting it.
Along the next wall in the second room, we are presented with Brave Beauties (2013-2014), a series of 12 portraits of gay and early stage transgender men in a variety of body shapes and sizes. The men are not holding typical fashion-related poses and their natural stances suggest the feeling of vulnerability. Although I do not know these people personally, I almost feel a sense of pride for them that they have been strong enough to ‘bare all’ in the physical and emotional sense of the term.
These are the images within Muholi’s collection that I connected with the most as I appreciate the realness and honesty displayed by the participants.
In contrast, Mo(u)rning (2014) did not resonate with me as a viewer. I did like the symmetrical layout and simplistic idea of capturing a moment by candlelight but I was distracted by the reflective glass coverings on the images. I think the rest of the exhibition felt more raw and tangible due to the portraits being unframed.
The final stage of the exhibition, a documentary room with multiple screens to watch alone with headphones or as a group on loud, was held upstairs. I did find it refreshing to have to sit and take time to discover more information about the history of the LGBTI community and detailed reasoning behind the exhibition because nowadays, information is quite often instantly available for us.
I think that if masses of information was held alongside the images within written testimonies, for example, these would have distracted from the power created by the portraits. I enjoyed having the opportunity to decipher my own story about each participant after looking at their portrait and discovering later on if this was the intention of the photographer and matched the story she wanted to tell.
Overall, I found Muholi’s exhibition to be very touching and in my opinion, successful. Her intention was to raise awareness for her community and show that they are a group of real people with real emotions living normal lives that deserve to be accepted and I definitely think this has been achieved.