<em>QUEER: Stories from the NGV Collection</em> , installation view of the exhibition at NGV International<br />Photo: Sean Fennessy

One of the earliest works presented in the exhibition is this Psykter amphora dating back to 540 BCE. The friendship between the celebrated Greek warriors Achilles and Patroclus is one of the central stories within Homer’s Iliad, a narrative of the war between Greece and Troy. This Chalkidian vase depicts Achilles fatally spearing a fallen Trojan warrior. We learn in the Iliad that Achilles enslaves a woman, Briseis, as a prize of war and possibly also a sexual partner. His principal relationship in the poem, however, is with his warrior comrade-in-arms, Patroclus. Numerous ancient authors, such as the philosopher Plato and the tragedian Aeschylus, declared Homer’s warrior couple to be lovers.

One of the earliest works presented in the exhibition is this Psykter amphora dating back to 540 BCE. The friendship between the celebrated Greek warriors Achilles and Patroclus is one of the central stories within Homer’s Iliad, a narrative of the war between Greece and Troy. This Chalkidian vase depicts Achilles fatally spearing a fallen Trojan warrior. We learn in the Iliad that Achilles enslaves a woman, Briseis, as a prize of war and possibly also a sexual partner. His principal relationship in the poem, however, is with his warrior comrade-in-arms, Patroclus. Numerous ancient authors, such as the philosopher Plato and the tragedian Aeschylus, declared Homer’s warrior couple to be lovers.

Another important story explored in QUEER is that of Lilith, who is represented in a painting of the same name by Scottish lesbian painter Ethel Walker. According to the Book of Isaiah, Lilith was the first wife of Adam, banished from Eden for her refusal to ‘lie beneath’ her husband, and was subsequently associated with witchcraft. But as the women’s movement gained momentum in the early twentieth century, icons of female power assumed new currency, and Lilith was reclaimed as a figure of defiance, freedom and equality. Walker was fascinated with the subject of Lilith. She produced many variations on the theme over the course of her life, reflecting her personal identification with an ideal of feminine mystery and dominance in harmony with the natural world. Walker’s Lilith is classical, statuesque and serenely at one with the fertile natural environment. Far from the cruel archetype of the Christian tradition, Lilith is here absorbed into an emerging queer feminist vision which embraced new pantheistic spiritual movements.

Another important story explored in QUEER is that of Lilith, who is represented in a painting of the same name by Scottish lesbian painter Ethel Walker. According to the Book of Isaiah, Lilith was the first wife of Adam, banished from Eden for her refusal to ‘lie beneath’ her husband, and was subsequently associated with witchcraft. But as the women’s movement gained momentum in the early twentieth century, icons of female power assumed new currency, and Lilith was reclaimed as a figure of defiance, freedom and equality. Walker was fascinated with the subject of Lilith. She produced many variations on the theme over the course of her life, reflecting her personal identification with an ideal of feminine mystery and dominance in harmony with the natural world. Walker’s Lilith is classical, statuesque and serenely at one with the fertile natural environment. Far from the cruel archetype of the Christian tradition, Lilith is here absorbed into an emerging queer feminist vision which embraced new pantheistic spiritual movements.

Another tale from scripture with queer possibilities is that of David and Goliath. This 1756 depiction by Neoclassical painter Johan Zoffany sees the nubile, bare-torsoed David effetely propped upon the head of his opponent, his fingers cradling an unmistakably phallic rock. Such visual innuendos initially escaped the notice of the conservative establishment, and during the 1760s and 1770s, Zoffany enjoyed the patronage of the English Queen Charlotte and King George. The relationship ended abruptly in 1779, however, when the Queen objected to the artist’s inclusion of lecherous young men and two notorious ‘finger-twirlers’ – a pejorative term for gay men – among the figures in Zoffany’s grand-scale painting, The Tribuna of the Uffizi. The royal couple never employed Zoffany again.

Another tale from scripture with queer possibilities is that of David and Goliath. This 1756 depiction by Neoclassical painter Johan Zoffany sees the nubile, bare-torsoed David effetely propped upon the head of his opponent, his fingers cradling an unmistakably phallic rock. Such visual innuendos initially escaped the notice of the conservative establishment, and during the 1760s and 1770s, Zoffany enjoyed the patronage of the English Queen Charlotte and King George. The relationship ended abruptly in 1779, however, when the Queen objected to the artist’s inclusion of lecherous young men and two notorious ‘finger-twirlers’ – a pejorative term for gay men – among the figures in Zoffany’s grand-scale painting, The Tribuna of the Uffizi. The royal couple never employed Zoffany again.

The exhibition explores the idea of ‘royalty’ through narratives of traditional monarchs alongside those of contemporary gay and queer icons, a new kind of royalty with whom, regardless of their personal sexuality or gender identity, queer people have felt an affinity for through their social and political struggles. Australian photographer E. G. Adamson’s 1953 photograph depicts a visit by Queen Elizabeth to Melbourne Town Hall. The Queen Mother was known to have a wide circle of queer friends, including Noël Coward, Cecil Beaton, Benjamin Britten and Stephen Tennant. For more than fifty years her closest servants at Clarence House were the openly gay royal pages William Tallon and his partner Reginald Wilcox. Tallon and Wilcox were famously the target of one of the Queen Mother’s witticisms. Overhearing the couple arguing downstairs, she is said to have shouted down to them: ‘When you two old queens have finished, this old queen would like a gin’.

The exhibition explores the idea of ‘royalty’ through narratives of traditional monarchs alongside those of contemporary gay and queer icons, a new kind of royalty with whom, regardless of their personal sexuality or gender identity, queer people have felt an affinity for through their social and political struggles. Australian photographer E. G. Adamson’s 1953 photograph depicts a visit by Queen Elizabeth to Melbourne Town Hall. The Queen Mother was known to have a wide circle of queer friends, including Noël Coward, Cecil Beaton, Benjamin Britten and Stephen Tennant. For more than fifty years her closest servants at Clarence House were the openly gay royal pages William Tallon and his partner Reginald Wilcox. Tallon and Wilcox were famously the target of one of the Queen Mother’s witticisms. Overhearing the couple arguing downstairs, she is said to have shouted down to them: ‘When you two old queens have finished, this old queen would like a gin’.

Gilbert and George’s 2018 work Forward is striking in scale, colour and concept. The partners and collaborators have been working together since 1967 and are celebrated for their use of daily minutiae to address existential questions and social change. The title of the series this work is part of, Jack Freak Pictures, is a play on the name of the Union Jack, an internationally familiar geometric pattern. The work is a meditation on symbolism, in particular the Union Jack’s impact on nationalism and identity. Here the artists pair the socially and politically charged symbol with images of heraldry and crests gleaned from their neighbourhood, London’s East End. With mock seriousness and distorted faces, the artists are both subject and creator of the works. They use appropriation as a method to deconstruct the role of these symbols of nationalism, authority, religion and class.

Gilbert and George’s 2018 work Forward is striking in scale, colour and concept. The partners and collaborators have been working together since 1967 and are celebrated for their use of daily minutiae to address existential questions and social change. The title of the series this work is part of, Jack Freak Pictures, is a play on the name of the Union Jack, an internationally familiar geometric pattern. The work is a meditation on symbolism, in particular the Union Jack’s impact on nationalism and identity. Here the artists pair the socially and politically charged symbol with images of heraldry and crests gleaned from their neighbourhood, London’s East End. With mock seriousness and distorted faces, the artists are both subject and creator of the works. They use appropriation as a method to deconstruct the role of these symbols of nationalism, authority, religion and class.

QUEER also brings to light the stories of women working in radically new ways during the early twentieth century, including German/French/Dutch photographer Germaine Krull. Finding safe physical spaces has long been a struggle for the queer community. Berlin, a city known for radical politics and avant-garde culture, provided a home to a relatively open queer community during the interwar years. Krull established her Berlin studio in 1922. She typified the lifestyle of the ‘New Woman’, continuously challenging what was expected of women through her independence, sense of adventure and intimate relationships with women and men. Part of her practice involved photographing nude studies of women, including this sensual image. The model, Daretha Albu, was a contemporary dancer who was introduced to her through friend and costume designer Lotte Pritzel. In the security of the artists’ studio, a sense of comfort between sitter and artist is reflected in Albu’s tousled hair, closed eyes and relaxed stance. Krull, and other pioneering women like her, are the subject of our new NGV online seminar series entitled Observations: Women in Art and Design History.

QUEER also brings to light the stories of women working in radically new ways during the early twentieth century, including German/French/Dutch photographer Germaine Krull. Finding safe physical spaces has long been a struggle for the queer community. Berlin, a city known for radical politics and avant-garde culture, provided a home to a relatively open queer community during the interwar years. Krull established her Berlin studio in 1922. She typified the lifestyle of the ‘New Woman’, continuously challenging what was expected of women through her independence, sense of adventure and intimate relationships with women and men. Part of her practice involved photographing nude studies of women, including this sensual image. The model, Daretha Albu, was a contemporary dancer who was introduced to her through friend and costume designer Lotte Pritzel. In the security of the artists’ studio, a sense of comfort between sitter and artist is reflected in Albu’s tousled hair, closed eyes and relaxed stance. Krull, and other pioneering women like her, are the subject of our new NGV online seminar series entitled Observations: Women in Art and Design History.

The subversive ‘looks’ crafted by Leigh Bowery are another exhibition highlight. After moving from the Melbourne suburb of Sunshine to London in pursuit of more experimental approaches to creative expression, Bowery established the renowned nightclub Taboo. Bowery’s unorthodox outfits and performances became one of the club’s main attractions. One such subversive look is The Metropolitan, a long-sleeved, 1950s-inspired ball gown made of red and blue floral sateen and embellished with blue sequins sewn on by his wife and collaborator, Nicola Bateman Bowery. In his typically irreverent and provocative style, Bowery extended the otherwise traditional design into a full-face mask, and accessorised the gown with a German army helmet, khaki camouflage-print gloves, a black leather belt and ‘dog collar’, and pink platform heels that raised him above his already impressive 6 feet 3 inches. He wore the outfit on multiple occasions, most notably to the opening of the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s 1993 retrospective dedicated to paintings by the British artist Lucian Freud, for whom Bowery was a model.

The subversive ‘looks’ crafted by Leigh Bowery are another exhibition highlight. After moving from the Melbourne suburb of Sunshine to London in pursuit of more experimental approaches to creative expression, Bowery established the renowned nightclub Taboo. Bowery’s unorthodox outfits and performances became one of the club’s main attractions. One such subversive look is The Metropolitan, a long-sleeved, 1950s-inspired ball gown made of red and blue floral sateen and embellished with blue sequins sewn on by his wife and collaborator, Nicola Bateman Bowery. In his typically irreverent and provocative style, Bowery extended the otherwise traditional design into a full-face mask, and accessorised the gown with a German army helmet, khaki camouflage-print gloves, a black leather belt and ‘dog collar’, and pink platform heels that raised him above his already impressive 6 feet 3 inches. He wore the outfit on multiple occasions, most notably to the opening of the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s 1993 retrospective dedicated to paintings by the British artist Lucian Freud, for whom Bowery was a model.

In 2021, Australian Fashion Week saw Marrithiyel queer artist and designer Paul McCann host the festival’s first Indigenous-led runway event. Unlike a typical runway, McCann’s was an immersive experience filled with dance, song and wearable art that celebrated Indigenous storytelling. Gumnut ball gown debuted in this collection and was worn by Kamilaroi and Dhungutti activist and storyteller Felicia Foxx. The dress’s silhouette was inspired by the dresses McCann’s own grandmother sewed in the 1950s and pays homage to the resilience of Indigenous women who expressed themselves through fashion despite the racial policies at this time. Native gumnuts and eucalyptus leaves adorn the garment, and McCann’s flair as a contemporary designer sees him reclaiming preconceived ideas around ‘Australiana’ fashion.

In 2021, Australian Fashion Week saw Marrithiyel queer artist and designer Paul McCann host the festival’s first Indigenous-led runway event. Unlike a typical runway, McCann’s was an immersive experience filled with dance, song and wearable art that celebrated Indigenous storytelling. Gumnut ball gown debuted in this collection and was worn by Kamilaroi and Dhungutti activist and storyteller Felicia Foxx. The dress’s silhouette was inspired by the dresses McCann’s own grandmother sewed in the 1950s and pays homage to the resilience of Indigenous women who expressed themselves through fashion despite the racial policies at this time. Native gumnuts and eucalyptus leaves adorn the garment, and McCann’s flair as a contemporary designer sees him reclaiming preconceived ideas around ‘Australiana’ fashion.

Balardung artist Dianne Jones is another Indigenous Australian artist working to disrupt pre-existing narratives by inserting Aboriginal and queer identities into otherwise white and heterosexual art histories. Throughout her artistic career, she has challenged the absence of queer and Aboriginal perspectives in museum collections by replacing the figures in historical images with queer and Aboriginal models. Here, Jones rewrites the history of Victorian and Edwardian portraiture, which is almost entirely white. She describes her work as an inhabitation of the white archives that haunt Aboriginal people. By wearing a costume and re-enacting a historical portrait, Jones forces a queer and Indigenous intervention into this white photographic history.

Balardung artist Dianne Jones is another Indigenous Australian artist working to disrupt pre-existing narratives by inserting Aboriginal and queer identities into otherwise white and heterosexual art histories. Throughout her artistic career, she has challenged the absence of queer and Aboriginal perspectives in museum collections by replacing the figures in historical images with queer and Aboriginal models. Here, Jones rewrites the history of Victorian and Edwardian portraiture, which is almost entirely white. She describes her work as an inhabitation of the white archives that haunt Aboriginal people. By wearing a costume and re-enacting a historical portrait, Jones forces a queer and Indigenous intervention into this white photographic history.

Tourmaline’s 2017 video work Atlantic is a sea of bones was inspired by Egyptt LaBeija, a member of the House of LaBeija in the New York ballroom scene. It begins with LaBeija’s experiences and moves into a dreamlike sequence in which she and a ghost figure collaborate in a process of self-actualisation. Part of the work is filmed in the recently built Whitney Museum of American Art beside the Hudson River, New York. LaBeija reflects on the gentrification of the nearby Meatpacking District and the piers, where marginalised people, and specifically HIV-positive, Black and trans people, previously lived. Simultaneously Tourmaline uses the Hudson and the Atlantic to evoke the passage of enslaved African people brought to the Americas between 1500 and 1900, weaving together the intersecting impacts of slavery, HIV/AIDS and racism on transgender people of colour.

Tourmaline’s 2017 video work Atlantic is a sea of bones was inspired by Egyptt LaBeija, a member of the House of LaBeija in the New York ballroom scene. It begins with LaBeija’s experiences and moves into a dreamlike sequence in which she and a ghost figure collaborate in a process of self-actualisation. Part of the work is filmed in the recently built Whitney Museum of American Art beside the Hudson River, New York. LaBeija reflects on the gentrification of the nearby Meatpacking District and the piers, where marginalised people, and specifically HIV-positive, Black and trans people, previously lived. Simultaneously Tourmaline uses the Hudson and the Atlantic to evoke the passage of enslaved African people brought to the Americas between 1500 and 1900, weaving together the intersecting impacts of slavery, HIV/AIDS and racism on transgender people of colour.

QUEER: Stories from the NGV Collection seeks to make visible the queer narratives in our Collection that may have been hidden due to suppression, prejudice or discrimination, and to reflect on the absences in the NGV Collection itself. We have also collaborated with Courtney Act to further discuss these ideas in a five-part podcast featuring conversations between Act, NGV curators and exhibition artists Tourmaline, Linda Jackson, William Yang, Frieda Toranzo Jaeger, and Dylan Mooney.

I hope you will all have the opportunity to visit and enjoy,

Tony Ellwood AM
Director, National Gallery of Victoria

QUEER: Stories from the NGV Collection seeks to make visible the queer narratives in our Collection that may have been hidden due to suppression, prejudice or discrimination, and to reflect on the absences in the NGV Collection itself. We have also collaborated with Courtney Act to further discuss these ideas in a five-part podcast featuring conversations between Act, NGV curators and exhibition artists Tourmaline, Linda Jackson, William Yang, Frieda Toranzo Jaeger, and Dylan Mooney.

I hope you will all have the opportunity to visit and enjoy,

Tony Ellwood AM
Director, National Gallery of Victoria

Caption QUEER: Stories from the NGV Collection, installation view of the exhibition at NGV International
Photo: Sean Fennessy