Hidden in Plain Sight

“ A huge amount of calls that we get are from people who feel trapped because of the perceived need to live up to an ideal of masculinity.

“In our community, the referendum was read as a time where everything was fixed, but we still have huge issues around mental health, sexual health, and our relationship with drink and drugs. Marriage equality was an important mark in the sand, but legacy issues are still there.”

So, says Adam Shanley, who would know better than most. He’s the director of Gay Switchboard Ireland, the country’s longest-running LGBT+ support service, providing an understanding ear to callers in need for over 44 years.

During this year’s Pride celebrations, the charity will launch Uncover, a photographic exhibition by Brian Teeling, featuring portraits of notable figures from a cross-section of Irish LGBT+ life. Subjects include politicians, musicians, artists and activists. GCN’s founder Tonie Walsh appears, as does our current editor Brian Finnegan, as well as people such as Senator Fintan Warfield, theatre director Garry Hynes, drag artist Veda Beaux Reves and broadcaster Brendan Courtney.

Taking the idea that many of the community’s problems are hidden in plain sight as inspiration, the portrait subjects were given the option to cover part of their face or body or to ‘uncover’ and reveal themselves in full. As Adam explains, “It weaves into the narrative that there can be issues facing us that some are more able and vulnerable to show. By blocking a part of their faces the subjects are saying: ‘Yes this is me, but there’s an element I’m still not comfortable with,’ even though they may be one of the most prominent LGBT people.”

GIVING CONTROL

Giving that control to the subjects certainly led to stronger images, but it also meant Teeling didn’t make it easy on himself, as his process details. “The portrait sitter decides the time, location, what they are going to wear. I ask them to interact if they want, but it’s entirely up to them. They decide what the background is, so if it’s set in Galway, I’ve to go to Galway. If it’s on the Luas, I’ve to take the photograph on the Luas. I was shooting on film, so my rules were I would use one roll of film per person, which is like 36/37 frames. It’s such a brave thing to do to put yourself in front of a camera because we’re all so selfie-obsessed.”

“ I prefer people to be upfront about it. If you’re a homophobe just call me a faggot.

The sourcing of subjects led to some interesting questions regarding the idea of an LGBT+ ‘community’. “We did have a bit of a difficulty trying to get more women involved, it was a lot easier to get gay men,” Teeling explains. “It shed a light on me how I view the community and how it’s a lot more expansive than I initially thought. It was like, I don’t actually know that many lesbian women; I don’t actually know that many bi people.”

Shanley expands on the idea. “That brings up a really good point around the concept of bi-erasure, but we had to tread a fine line between it being tokenism – the angle more so is that you put out a call to the community and the community responds. But that’s something in the conversations we plan to have – is there an issue with cohesiveness in this community? Do gay men stick to gay men? Do lesbians stick to lesbians?

“Even now that we’re in a post-marriage equality world where we have a more robust community and we can reach out to more people, we still have a considerable volume of calls to the Switchboard.”

“ It’s a brave thing to do to put yourself in front of a camera because we’re all so selfie-obsessed.

LEGACY ISSUES

Shanley breaks down those legacy issues, the concept that even though outwardly the community may have moved forward, inside, its members are still haunted by the same old ghosts. “Coming out – that process that all our future LGBT brothers and sisters will go through, you know, starting to understand our own identity. We also still have a massive invisible community – rural isolation, even though you can feel isolated and have internalised homophobia in the middle of Dublin City. A huge amount of calls that we get are from people who feel trapped because of the perceived need to live up to an ideal of masculinity – ‘I’m on the GAA team, I’m dating girls’ – because ultimately there’s a fear that his direct community won’t accept him.

“There’s also the second rise of the HIV crisis in this country. We’re split down the middle in terms of our older peers who would understandably have a way of looking at HIV and AIDS because potentially they’ve lost many friends to that, and younger elements of the community who are riding the wave of a sexual liberation, which is totally appropriate too. But how to have conversations between those two cohorts and how as a society how to push the officialdom to look after us properly?”

That perceived split between the older and younger gay generations also became apparent in how they decided to be portrayed. The majority of the younger people ran with the theme of covering themselves, while, as Brian describes: “If you look at the older people in the series, they’re not covering up their faces, they’re like, ‘Here I am, take my portrait’.”