In China, every little thing seems to be under control. A direct control, through cameras, millions of eyes watching you, and an indirect one, via traditions and information control.
Homosexuality is neither criminalised nor considered as a mental disease anymore. Still. “I’d love to, but I can’t be part of your project”. Anonymity and obscurity seemed to be the watchwords. But the new generation is coming up. Sam doesn’t give a shit about being gay but feels like going abroad. Escaping is an option. Letting yourself go at a club or at the Taiwanese gay pride is easier. That’s what Hoshi does.
The people I met opened their hearts, fragile or full of hopes and dreams. Clem, who assumes his homosexuality but got suddenly scared that I was recording our conversation. “Tim”, 50, married to a woman, who told me that it was a relief to finally be able to talk to someone about his situation. Ryan, who eventually asked me not to publish his photos because he worried about the Hong Kong national security law. Taro, Chuchen, Tody, Christopher, Sean, Ethan, Allan and all those faces that can’t be shown out of fear.
Homosexuals might not be the enemies at the moment. But are you recording what I’m saying?
François Silvestre de Sacy was born in 1982. His work mainly focuses on exploring the streets and documenting people’s life and struggle to survive in a tough and often close-minded society. His work has been exhibited at PHOTO LA 2020 and the PH21 Gallery “Portraits without faces”. He was shortlisted for the Athens Photo Festival 2020 and is one of 10 winners at the 2020 European Month of Photography Street Projections in Berlin.
In François Silvestre de Sacy’s imagery, darkness takes control and guarantees the required anonymity. It is difficult to lose an invisible face. Queer life banishes itself into the night. The rainbow transforms into a wall-less darkroom, which wafts from the clubs into the streets like greyish disco-fog. Occasionally, body fragments and faces carefully peel themselves out of the darkness, like individual pieces of a puzzle that has just begun.
My parents rejected me because of my homosexuality. I could escape from the violent relationships of their home and grew up with my maternal grandmother Clemencia. My grandmother knew how to raise me through fantasy and her unconditional love, despite the rejection of most of my family.
XYX-XO is a sexual chromosome I imagined. It can be endlessly reinvented. Out of all control, it allows infinite exploration of the self. The topic of this project is to question the notion of gender and identity through transformation. I approach it as a dialogue with the models. They are free to represent themselves the way they wish.
In China, every little thing seems to be under control. A direct control, through cameras, millions of eyes watching you, and an indirect one, via traditions and information control. Homosexuality is neither criminalised nor considered as a mental disease anymore. Still. “I’d love to, but I can’t be part of your project”.
I met most of my early subjects in 2014, while photographing queer nightlife in New York. In 2017, I began to bring the people I had met into my studio, at daylight. Since then, my portraiture has remained centered on the queer community. Part of my interest in photographing this community stems from being a part of the community myself. These are people and spaces that I know best.
I’m drawn to the strength of people’s characters. Their passion for life and love inspires me. I’m looking for real feelings, sincere and pure emotions. Something that is beyond words, something metaphorical.
In my series Ordinary People I explore the ability of ordinary people to enjoy the moment and value the happiness and joy of everyday´s life despite the blatant homophobia in Russian legislature, politics, media and the Russian church.
In 2014 I started to take intimate portraits of young queer people. As a lesbian woman, I am very interested in meeting likeminded people. My intention is to show them as they really are, building an intimate space, forged in their image, where they can express freely.
This project investigates the concept of ordinary monstrosity, unravelling the boundaries between what is thought of as normal and abnormal. Since the 19th century the staging of “freaks” was essential and images were manipulated to play a vital role in reinforcing the norm.
The day I confided in someone about my sexuality, they took my story and spread it around for fun. This both hurt my feelings and tainted my identity. My trust became gossip. I decided to turn to my childhood friends, my old teachers and even strangers that I had never met before.
For almost 40 years, the Muxe community of Oaxaca has struggled to be visible and win their own spaces. The Muxes, beyond considering themselves men or women, have transcended the idea of gender to identify themselves as a third gender, and they are always in search of beauty.
Research has shown that elders in the LGBTQ+ community are more likely to experience loneliness, exclusion, and fear of turning to health and welfare services. The men pictured in this series, all over seventy, identify themselves as gay and live in Israel.
As a straight photographer I felt drawn to this subject because the number of LGBT political refugees in Belgium is fast growing. These people had no choice but to leave their countries of origin, so I wanted to explore the realities they left behind.
This selection of single images are taken from various projects from 2016 to 2020 sharing the common theme of self invention of unapologetic queer identities. These are portraits of outsiders as icons. Queer individuals who choose to construct their image to be visibly queer by blurring and challenging the boundaries of gender expression, sexuality and society’s expectations thereof.
