To Bend, to Fit, to Bare
February 29th - April 6th, 2024
A group exhibition featuring work by current and recent TMU students Laura Honsberger, Christina Oyawale, Beckett Koreen, and Annika Karpal. This exhibition was curated by recent TMU alum Caeden Wigston.
In To Bend, to Fit, to Bare artists Laura Honsberger, Annika Kapral, Beckett Koreen and Christina Oyawale offer their reflections on the experience of Queerness within a binary society. The exhibited works approach Queerness as something more than a sexual identity, but as a powerful practice of disrupting, connecting and questioning. In so doing, the artists demonstrate how we can push beyond what is considered right, or good, and look instead towards a future of expanded acceptability.
Many Queer scholars and artists have begun to recontextualize the definition of Queerness, steering away from Queerness as merely an identifier opposite to heterosexuality. Author and activist Erin J. Rand writes, “This is a de-essentialized notion of queerness that disconnects “queer” from any particular referent and refigures it as the undecidability from which rhetorical agency is actualized.” Rand goes on to state that this understanding of Queerness does not remove its inherent sexual or political implications, but rather unhinges the term from a singular point of view.
As Queer individuals, there is a pressure to bend and to fit, often accompanied by a blanket of discomfort. Yet despite the structural implications that weigh on our shoulders, we push back, offering alternatives and suggesting new possibilities. Why must we do things one way, when another way works just as well–or perhaps even better? To Bend, To Fit, To Bare investigates Queerness-as-practice, probing the idea of “correctness” and the acts that quantify this understanding.
Existing outside of the gender binary has become a topic of recent upheaval within Canadian politics. Responding to the 2023 Canada-wide protests due to the teaching of LGBTQIA+ material in the public school system, specifically topics regarding transgender identity, Annika Kapral counters the hatred through their series “Resentment.” Turning their lens towards fellow trans youth and young adults, Kapral casts a warm, angelic light on their subjects, as a means to oppose the demonization of their community. In the images, young individuals stand in the middle of a grassy field, a halo of sunlight cascading around them. The portraits are confrontational, but also laced with melancholy. They are at once soft and defiant. Kapral’s series uncovers the rage of being deemed “incorrect”, while simultaneously expressing the innate humanity of trans youth.
In her photographic series “Plenty”, Laura Honsberger questions the correct way to approach emotional impasse and strengthen intimacy through the act of screaming into her partner's mouth. What can a scream offer that words cannot – feeling the vibration of another's voice in your throat? A sound, a smell, a feeling, a sight and a taste? The intensity of the act engages all aspects of the human entity to reach a shared sensorial equilibrium, one that perhaps transcends our understanding of intimacy completely. Images printed on flowing chiffon, hung from sparkling aluminum frames depict Honsberger and her partner actively screaming, their silent faces–eyes shut, mouths agape–presenting an invitation to observe and participate in their shared scream. Traditionally framed photographs are intermixed with unconventionally framed works: an acrylic transfer on stained glass mounted to a wooden block; an oblong spice box with a small image of the two lovers tucked inside. Welded, colourful stained glass tiles–protective talismans– intermittently flow through the work, which as Honsberger describes, harness the energy of their shared screams. Honsberger’s unconventional use of materials pushes the boundaries of traditional photo framing and presentation, further highlighting the unorthodox nature of the couple's actions.
Christina Oyawale’s “a domestic performance” considers how Queer, gender non-conforming bodies fit into the binary structure of the domestic environment. Referencing French filmmaker Chantal Akerman, Oyawale plays the part of the idealized “woman”, questioning the correct or incorrect way to behave in traditionally feminized spaces within their home. In a series of photographs accompanied by a short film, Oyawale captures themselves partaking in various tasks such as eating, brushing their teeth, or using the toilet–acting out the cognitive dissonance they experience day-to-day. Delving into how these gendered expectations clash with their Queer body, Oyawale explores the difficulties associated with performing femininity as a gender non-conforming person. Through this interrogation of what is “right” and “wrong”, Oyawale pushes back on structures the gender binary imposes and antagonizes the weight it bears on their psyche.
Exploring the limitations of the body, Beckett Koreen catalogues his current physical form, focusing on the discrepancies in skin colour, textures, folds and crevices, in an effort to get to know himself better. In his book work, tightly cropped photographs, paired with excerpts from various journal entries and personal notes, reference past experiences and exchanges with friends, family and himself. Unflexed and unshaven, the proximity of the lens to the body in “Myself and Nobody Else” removes the opportunity to perform, despite the inherent performative nature of photographing oneself. Instead, Koreen is forced to simply be. In this act of vulnerability, Koreen questions the implications of male performance and expectations– generally associated with being tough and calloused, opposed to soft and intimate. Utilizing text and photographs, Koreen maps out his ever evolving relationships with “correct” behaviour, journeying towards solace and acceptance within.
While each of the artists in "To Bend, To Fit, To Bare” offer their own understanding of Queerness-as-practice, their images serve as entry points to consider the subjective nature of “correctness” and investigate what a Queer future could entail. Honsberger, Kapral, Koreen and Oyawale bare their lived experience, and in doing so present an invitation to scream loudly, to live softly, to take up space and to be human.
