SOFT/HARD
RADICAL LOVE BY R. GOO
3 JUNE–28 AUGUST 2022
Soft/Hard: radical love by R. Goo is a queering of the Curtin University Art Collection curated by the late trans artist Bec O’Neil which deftly interlaces the personal and the political; the exhibition positions the struggle for LGBTQIA+ liberation since the 1960s as the backdrop to the psychological work of queer selfformation and acceptance.
Despite the hard-won strides made over the past sixty years or so, as queer, trans or gender nonconforming folks, we grow up in a culture that erases our existence. As children, we often lack the language to describe who we are and what we feel, but as we recognise our difference, we also become aware that the world regards us as unnatural, illegitimate, and that there is something shameful about our inner lives, bodies, and relationships. Many of us grow up in hiding, flitting between visibility and invisibility, like phantoms. We become skilled in detecting sprinkles of queer stardust in pop culture and beyond, touchstones that remind us that we are not alone, and which help us to imagine possible selves. Often, we only encounter our own community after leaving home, at least, that was true of my generation. When we can see, be in the same space with, and connect with Others like us, it’s liberating and also disorientating. We learn that coming out—showing ourselves—is not an isolated event but an ongoing practice that looks different depending on context, and which requires vigilance for signs of danger. Queer spaces and rituals provide relief from this constant self-surveillance, help us to navigate our bodies and desires, blend the sacred and hedonic, and subvert the cultural imperative towards cis heteronormativity. Such practices bleed into and are mirrored in the creative sphere, and this framework guides my encounter with Bec’s exhibition.
The organising logic of Soft/Hard is intuitive and rhizomatic, as opposed to taxonomic or art historical. Bec has selected works by queer artists, but also works that have a queer resonance. The riot of colour in Peter Phillips and Friendensreich Hundertwasser’s works hint at rainbow flags, pageantry and revelry, while Joan Ross’s neon spray conveys a subversive punk sensibility. The partially concealed, four-handed figure in Christian Thompson’s hallucinatory Subconscious Whispers (2018) either beckons or warns the viewer away from a lush, sticky wall of Australian flora. Peter Flanagan’s Complications (1981) is suggestive of gender affirmation practices such as surgery, binding and padding. Kim Stanley Medlen’s beautifully crafted objects operate as memorials, referencing the legacy of the HIV/ AIDS pandemic, and Janis Nedela’s bound and ravaged books allude to secrets, omissions and lost knowledge.
I didn’t know Bec personally, but through his creative and curatorial work I recognise his investment in the challenging work of queer / trans liberation. His engagement with the Curtin Collection contributes to a recent tradition of queer interventions with historical archives and collections, which enable us to trace our presence across time, illuminating the omissions that render us invisible or voiceless in the historical record, despite the ubiquity of our existence in all cultures. These practices help us to locate our ancestors and the wisdom they hold: who we are, where we come from, and how we thrive In this sense, Bec’s exhibition is a work of reclamation and a familial embrace, a love letter to those who come after.
Dr Theo Costantino