Queer Artefacts
Chapter 1
A spark of recognition
My project began at the Museum of Croydon where I was eager to immerse myself in artefacts and social history. The collection holds a highly diverse range of items with anything from letters, artworks, photographs to oral histories - but where to begin?
I started with objects because I am curious about people and feel drawn to possessions; who was the owner and what kind of life did they lead?
There are many directions I could have followed, so it was important to refine my selection. I took my time wandering through the galleries, looking for colours, shapes, textures and even presentation methods, saving the facts and historical information for later. I let the aesthetics of the objects guide me because I didn’t want to over think my selection, and instead let the artefacts speak for themselves. When I found the right object, I got a feeling in my stomach; a curiosity, a spark of recognition and I paused to ask myself a series of questions:
What do I like about this object? Why does it stand out to me? What is my connection?
By asking questions about the things that appeal to us, we learn to become more self-aware of our likes and dislikes and start to develop a unique personal taste. By knowing what I like and trusting my instincts I am able to choose objects, recognising their commonalities and identifying the threads of connection. I used this exercise walking through the Now gallery to the Then gallery, getting lost in objects, textiles and sculptures tracing back to 1800, and found myself drawn to three objects in particular:
These objects resonated strongly with me; a handbag and long lace gloves owned by a man who called himself ‘Sister’, an assortment of badges displaying messages and political ideology to a language of symbols like the inverted triangle stretched across the front of a 1993 events pamphlet. As a queer person myself, these objects were alive with meaning, a slice of queerness displayed in public for all to see. They weren’t random bits of junk or jumble, they were artefacts, ‘Queer Artefacts’.
Challenging Section 28
The items I selected are a part of the LGBT History Trail, launched in 2010 for LGBT History Month. It charts Britain’s changing attitudes towards the LGBT+ movement. The research for this collection was first gathered in the 90’s and comprised of oral history recordings, donated objects and photos, telling stories of Croydon’s Lesbian and Gay people in their own words. The collection was first exhibited in the Clocktower’s Lifetimes gallery as a public exhibition called ‘Celebrate’ in 2001.
The exhibition had been potentially risky due to the looming presence of Section 28. Introduced in 1988, the act stated that local authorities could not “intentionally promote homosexuality", though it was never made clear what constituted ‘promotion’. The message behind the act certainly made homosexuality a controversial subject, and it was necessary for the team behind ‘Celebrate’ to get permission and approval from all elected Croydon Councillors.
There was an attempt to block the exhibition as it was believed to contravene Section 28. The case was argued that Section 28 had never been enforced and was considered a discriminatory piece of legislation. The show was successfully launched without being censored, and was regarded as a victory for others who supported the repeal of the outdated act.
Twenty years after the museum first displayed its LGBT+ collection, I found myself stood in front of ‘Ray’s Handbag’, transfixed by the plain black bag. The caption tells me that Ray was a Sister at The Order Perpetual Indulgence, who protested for gay rights in the 1990’s. I needed to learn more…
The man behind the handbag
Chapter 2
A CAGS encounter
On my quest to find Ray Harvey-Amer I was pointed in the direction of a group called the Croydon Area Gay Society (CAGS), a social group for LGBT+ people.
First established in June 1971 CAGS are fast approaching their 50th anniversary. Their constitution is focused on providing “social, cultural, recreational, and educational events” and “pride and mutual support” to benefit the LGBT+ community in Croydon. Membership is open to all who support the Aims of the Society, young and old, however, current membership is predominantly made up of older gay men. CAGS is no stranger to adversity, they were removed from a pub in 1972 for being gay. In the early days, they organised discos at The Star, but nowadays tend to focus on daytime and cultural activities such as group lunches, concerts, rambling, tennis and gallery visits. Meeting monthly, their events feature speakers and performers. A monthly newsletter brings the society together for activities and updates members on current issues. The CAGS are frequently present at events such as LGBT History Month, Gay Pride, IDAHO day and Croydon PrideFest.
Unintentionally, I crashed an annual meeting in my pursuit of Ray and talked to David Page, the Chairman since 1995. Ray was confirmed as a CAGS member and good friend, and so contact details were passed and several weeks later I found myself sitting opposite Ray in the Croydon Clocktower cafe.
A naval man
At 84 years of age, there was almost five decades between us and I had been worried that our age difference would prevent us from being able to relate. Ray had been gay when it was still illegal and a punishable offence, he had even been prescribed a course of aversion therapy by doctors to ‘cure’ him. Having grown up after the decriminalisation and with homosexuality no longer labelled a mental disorder, would our experiences be too different to find enough in common?
I needn’t have worried; Ray was a bright, friendly man with a charming sense of humour that made him easy to talk to. Open and talkative, Ray began by telling me about his life in the Navy where he began his career as a nurse in 1957.
Of the many stories he told, his cheeky tales in the service made us laugh out loud. In contrast to the good times, he also recalled the time he was put under investigation and narrowly escaped a court martial, he explained ”there was homophobia from above decks because it was illegal, you had to make sure you weren't caught.”
Ray met his partner of 30 years, Mike Harvey in the Navy before leaving to retrain as a health visitor. By the late 80s both men had become heavily involved with the fight against HIV and AIDS and together they created The Gay Health Link for Croydon which operated out of their home in Shirley. The scope was to create a buddy system for gay men affected by AIDS, offering support and care that did not exist at the time. The organisation grew, moving to the ACE Centre where they were encouraged to change the name to the AIDS Care Education Project. Following the death of his partner Mike to AIDS in 1991, Ray left the ACE Project and changed his name to Ray Michael John Harvey-Amer, combining their names so they would “always be in an embrace”.
OutRageous!
Ray joined the group OutRage!, a ‘home-grown British queer direct action movement’, which formed in 1990 when homophobia was on the increase. Some members from the LGBT+ community felt that negative portrayals of queer people in the press influenced the rise in violence. The controversial group would often interrupt official ceremonies and religious gatherings, holding paper signs and creating chaos to command the attention of the British press. They operated until 2011, making it one of the longest running voluntary LGBT+ groups.
Ray recalled a number of protests with OutRage!. For instance one made on The London Rubber Company after they refused to recognise that gay men used their product. Or in 1995 when Ray and several other members crashed ‘Ladies’ Day’ at Ascot Racecourse dressed in drag. An infamous protest, which divided both group members and the public, was the silent demonstration held in 1998 at the funeral of former editor of the Daily Mail, Sir David English. Outrage!‘s methods were, at times, criticised by both gay and straight people alike for being offensive. However, they did succeed in drawing visibility to issues that needed more discussion.
The Sisterhood
At a Brighton Pride in the early 1990s Ray had a “road to Damascus experience” after he met Sister Latex, a member of The Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence. Formed in the 1970s in San Francisco, the Sisters are flamboyant activists who use a combination of drag and religious symbolism to counter homophobia through protest. They have gone on to establish groups or ‘Houses’ worldwide, raising awareness about HIV/AIDS, safer sex and gender discrimination.
Inspired by the combination of protest and theatricality, Ray began the process of joining the Sisters in the early 1990s. He began as a Novice and soon rose to the level of Sister, explaining with a devilish grin that the first habit must either be stolen or made by hand. I began to understand that the Sisters’ attire and associated objects had powerful symbolic meaning to Ray. The figure of the nun is one of purity, peace and compassion and the Sister’s work in the queer community reflected this. For example Ray and a number of Sisters raised money and gave support to those with HIV/AIDS during Croydon Pride in 1993.
The objects carried in Ray’s Handbag were talismans; a dab of lippy for “fortitude against the oppressors”, a whistle and bell to let the enemy know you were coming, gloves for glamour and a feather boa for joy. The spare condoms and information leaflets were customary when attending gay pride parades and protests in order to educate those in attendance.
After a number of years Ray graduated from Sister to Mother and became known as Mother Molly of the Claphouse, or Mother Molly for short. This was a reference to the Molly Houses of the 18th Century that catered to the underground homosexual community. In his maternal role Ray oversaw a number of 'sainting’ rituals which involved acknowledging individuals who had made outstanding cultural contributions to the LGBT+ community.
Ray’s handbag sits in retirement at the Museum of Croydon, holding an arsenal of protest supplies long since expired. After everything he had told me about his time in The Order of Perpetual Indulgence I began to perceive the handbag in a new light; beyond a simple artefact, Mother Molly’s Handbag was starting to feel like a queer relic…
A pilgrimage
Chapter 3
“We’re off to see a man about a handbag!”
Learning about Ray’s time as a Sister in the 1990s made me curious about how the group had adapted to thirty years of changing politics. Currently there are no active Houses in London but the Sisters can still be found across the UK. I discovered that my friend Bruce Guthrie – radio producer and dramatherapist – was planning to take up the veil in Bristol with the House of the Blue Moon. Following a conversation about the handbag and my meeting with Ray, myself and Bruce, soon to be known as Novice Niche Whimsy, formulated a plan. A small band of Sisters would make a ceremonial pilgrimage from Bristol to the Museum of Croydon to offer blessings over the exhibited handbag and meet Ray to discuss their ministry.
A few weeks later, on an early Tuesday morning in June, the four Sisters piled into a car and began their journey from Glastonbury. On arrival they were guided to the ‘back of house’ archives in the Museum to meet with Ray. After brief introductions, the group settled into serious discussions about the current problems faced by those in the LGBT+ community. These included those of working class queer people who find themselves trapped in unwelcome homes, of transgender people struggling to find acceptance in society, to the growing problem of LGBT+ immigrants seeking refuge from homophobia.
An audio programme, ‘Croydon Handbag’ documenting the Sisters’ visit to the Museum. Featuring the voices of the Sisters, Mark Goldby Museum of Croydon staff and Ray Harvey-Amer. Recorded and edited by Bruce Guthrie, Avonside Studio. (c) Bruce Guthrie
Manifesting
The group were soon ready to change into their attire, a process they called ‘manifesting’ - a ‘revealing of your true self’. They began by painting their faces with ‘clown white’ face paint, a custom borrowed from the Edinburgh House according to Sister Aura. Ray and I were captivated as they painted designs onto their faces, climbed into long dresses and secured eccentric hats with rainbow veils to their heads. They were adorned in badges, rainbow jewellery and trinkets from past Pride events, however a polite but firm request meant that they did not unleash their usual “tsunami of glitter” into the archives. They were fascinating to look at and impossible to ignore.
A procession
Ray took me aside and proceeded to demonstrate his head piece. First, he fixed a coif and guimpe (made from a Guys & St Thomas’ hospital pillowcase) to his head, then a bandeau (with a margarine tub lid for structure) and topped it off with a black veil. He delicately wrapped his habit in a pride flag and informed me that he wished to begin his procession through the museum with the Sisters; to once again reunite his habit with his handbag.
The Sisters were given a printout of ‘Amazing Pride’ to sing (a queer take on ‘Amazing Grace’) as they slowly walked through the narrow archive passageways, crowded into a lift and spilled out into the museum galleries. Singing along the way, the Sisters were led to the case of Ray’s Handbag and as they stood circling the case, Ray carefully placed the folded habit on top, and made the following moving speech:
Several pin badges were donated to the Museum by the Bristol Sisters, and have joined Ray’s collection in honour of their meeting. I felt lucky to have been a part of the encounter - it felt like something spiritual had occurred in the museum that afternoon. Ray’s words “there’s still work to do” rang in my ears and I felt moved to act on them to continue the work he had started all those years ago. An idea was beginning to form…
All images are copyright of Mark Goldby
Bold.
Chapter 4
Reclaiming Space
My interactions with Ray had taught me about evoking inspiration in queer people by being visible and rising-up in the face of adversity. While he was fighting against Section 28 (introduced in 1988) I had been educated under it. Until our conversation I had not realised how much LGBT+ history was conspicuously missing from my education. This may explain why I felt so strongly drawn to Ray’s handbag when I first visited the museum. Researching my own community’s history was the first step.
As LGBT+ community gained equality, councils began looking at ways to educate schoolchildren about homosexuality and there was the establishment of gay focus groups within local authorities, such as Haringey Council where a Lesbian and Gay Unit was launched. A controversial teaching resource was made available, titled ‘Jenny Lives with Eric and Martin’ by Susanne Bösche, about a girl who lives with her two gay dads. This resulted in some backlash and soon after the government brought in Section 28 which prevented local authorities from ‘promoting’ homosexuality. The fear of contravening Section 28 suppressed the subject across a range of cultural services including museums and libraries for 15 years until it’s repeal in 2003.
It was a great comfort to see Ray’s handbag, an object from my community, first placed on public display in 2001. It felt like an acknowledgement that my sexuality was valid and culturally significant. I wanted to replicate that feeling for other queer people in Croydon so I decided to curate an exhibition of artworks by gay, bi and queer artists in the public atrium of the Croydon Clocktower, naming it ‘Bold.’.
Bona Polari
I decided that the exhibition’s theme would be ‘identity’ so that the artists felt free to express ideas about their sexuality alongside other themes. By incorporating my LGBT+ history research into the exhibition branding, I could reconnect with the past and shine a light on the gay men who had been oppressed by homophobic attitudes. In the 1950’s when homosexuality was still illegal, gay men used secret codes and languages to communicate with each other without publicly disclosing their sexuality. ‘Polari’ combined rhyming slang with influences from Romani, Italian and Yiddish. This was famously used by Hugh Paddick and Kenneth Williams in their roles as Julian and Sandy on the BBC radio programme Round the Horne.
Here are some more examples of Polari terms:
bevvy = drink (or possibly an abbreviation of beverage, or both)
bijou = small
bimbo = dupe
camp = excessive or showy
dona = woman (hence the Australian slang word donah)
drag = clothes
fantabulosa = excellent
lally = leg
lattie = house / lodgings
leucoddy = body
naph/naff = bad
nante = none or nothing
ogle = eye
omi = man
omipalone = homosexual
palare = talk
palone = woman
riah = hair troll, = walk / wander
walloper = dancer
zhoosh = fix / tidy
To be ‘bold’ is a description of someone who is daring or plucky, and in Polari this could also mean ‘conspicuously homosexual’. Being overtly gay was a brave thing to be at a time when homosexuality was still punishable with prison time and a criminal record. I decided to call the show ‘Bold’ to venerate the bravery of those who are openly gay - particularly the artists featured whose work was also deeply personal.
Pink Triangles
The pride flag is arguably the most recognisable symbol of the LGBT+ community, however the pink triangle has its own history of symbolism. Originally used by Nazis during the Second World War, the pale pink triangle was sewn to the breast pockets of men accused of being homosexual. These men were treated particularly badly in the concentration camps, and by the time they were liberated by the allies, many would find themselves back in jail due to their sexuality.
A German gay rights movement ‘Homosexuelle Aktion Westberlin’ (HAW) re-appropriated the triangle in the 1970s to campaign for compensation of the mis-treatment of homosexual people. Gradually other gay rights organisations began to use the symbol and it was reclaimed. LGBT+ groups in Britain inverted the triangle and used it to commemorate persecution, and eventually the pink triangle became a symbol of anti-homophobia and gay pride. I found a few examples of pink triangles in Ray’s collection of pin badges on display in the Museum.
These badges were worn on protests in the 80s and 90s to show solidarity with a variety of organisations and causes. A badge is an identifying symbol, a show of support and something that can be worn proudly on the chest like a medal. Badges are a subtle but creative way for an individual to show that they belong to something much larger than themselves – it communicates a position, an opinion, an affiliation. After incorporating the pink triangle into the exhibition logo, I decided to turn the design into a badge for exhibitors and supporters of the exhibition to wear. The badges were a statement about queer identity; an acknowledgement of past struggles, worn by the people who represent and support a more hopeful future for the LGBT+ community.
The Artworks
Several contemporary artists who identify as gay, bisexual, queer and men who have sex with men (MSM) were invited to take part in ‘Bold.’ as a way of continuing my research into homosexual oppression. The exhibition was comprised of paintings, sculpture, video work and photography - which tended to focus on the artists’ emotional relationships with their sexuality.
Wesley Baker’s video ‘GhostTown’ shows him riding through Croydon on a bike that gives him a sense of “freedom and expression”, while Constantine Elijah describes his digital collages of masculinity ‘Look at me!’ as a way to “vocalize his emotions which were generated through his life as a gay man living in a closet”. Davide Menghello’s work ‘Proposition III (Shade)’ is a research document around The Rejected (1961), the first documentary about homosexuality broadcast on US television. The images are of a figure, their face hidden and lost in a crowd – the closeted homosexual.
Neil Kelso’s powerful sculpture is that of a figure enveloped in words, breaking free from the prison of a dictionary. It is a comment on the power of words to oppress, and the complications that arise when we try to label ourselves and each other.
Jack Howell Evans’ describes the objects in ‘Crown Jewel$’ as “‘queer’ in nature…manipulated, bent, twisted, pierced, confused and repurposed” and relates them to his “own encounters with discrimination”. My own work ‘Pink Boy’ is a sculptural piece that combines pink textile with metal and chain to explore the shame and confusion felt as a boy that identified with the feminine more than the masculine.
Antonis Sideras’ ‘Party?’ uses a very specific colour palette to explore their identity, creating a series of bunting using colours from the transgender and pride flags to reference queerness, forming words like ‘Outcast’ and ‘Ignored’ to express the lived experiences of a queer person in a heteronormative world.
Charlie Yen’s body of work in the show allowed him to explore his gay identity head on and was “an opportunity to be myself again without fears.”
The works in the exhibition demonstrated to me that queer people are still haunted by negative emotions like fear and pain and continue to feel isolated from society. Despite the battles we have won in our quest for equality, we still struggle to find acceptance in society and in ourselves. Following the exhibition launch, my continued research led me to a group of people with less rights than me, but who had developed an attitude about acceptance and self-love that was awe inspiring…
Images are copyrighted to one of the following: Museum of Croydon, Mark Goldby and named artists.
For any more information please email museum@croydon.gov.uk
I Know Who I Am
Chapter 5
A rainbow or two
During the Bold. exhibition, Ray Harvey-Amer told me about his ongoing work with Rainbows Across Borders (RAB). The Croydon based group was officially formed in 2013 and describes itself as “a Croydon-based voluntary self-help group for LGBTQ+ asylum seekers who are fleeing persecution of oppressive homophobic/transphobic regimes.”
Over the years RAB has established strong links with the Croydon Voluntary Action (CVA) resource centre, and the Croydon Unitarians. RAB group meetings provide an opportunity to share experiences and give support to one another through the process of adapting to life in the UK. They campaign against sexism, racism and homophobia, and are best known for their performances as a chorus, singing uplifting songs on themes of liberation and freedom.
The Croydon Home Office is where many asylum seekers begin the process of screening to become officially recognised as refugees. Amongst them are groups of LGBT+ people who are escaping homelands where they are at considerable risk of violence and death because of their sexuality. Asylum seekers are not permitted to work and many make use of Croydon Central Library's free resources where early members of RAB noticed rainbow logos and followed them up to level one. Here they discovered the Library's official LGBT section, launched in 2010 for LGBT History Month. There they met members of the Rainbow Reading Group, a LGBT+ community group established in 2011, who met monthly to read and discuss, while working with the library to make sure LGBT+ was represented in their library collection. The leader of the group included Ray Harvey-Amer who went on to help form RAB and secure their meeting place at the Croydon Voluntary Action (CVA) resource centre at London Road, Croydon.
Several years later, RAB has grown in numbers and is attended by people across London and the UK, as far as Portsmouth. They are regular performers for LGBT History Month, attending civic launches at Croydon’s Braithwaite Hall and Fairfield Halls, and are frequent performers on the main stage at Croydon PrideFest.
Sing out
After meeting members of RAB and learning about their experiences, I learned that many of them had suffered the indignity of being made invisible. Homosexuality, according to the Human Dignity Trust; is still classed as a criminal offence in 72 jurisdictions with almost half within the Commonwealth. 11 of which either implement or make legally possible the death penalty.
LGBT+ people survive in these countries by suppressing their true identities, and there are no role models for them to look up to. The concept behind the ‘Bold.’ exhibition was to reclaim public spaces, and allow queer voices to be heard. Now I was confronted with a whole new set of voices who had faced a far greater level of discrimination than I could imagine. On Ray’s suggestion, we arranged for RAB to make themselves heard by joining the exhibition, and giving a performance as a choir singing out into the Croydon Clocktower.
I could see the positive affect that singing had on each member. The small chorus started out shy, but as their vocals resonated around the high ceilings and the audience grew, their confidence swelled and they began to enjoy themselves. Their set list included powerful civil rights songs like Ain't Gonna Let Nobody Turn Me Around, based on the march to Washington for jobs and liberation, and Oh Freedom about the emancipation from slavery. Raise Your Voices is an original composition by lead singer Daniel Iga and is about the LGBT+ community coming together and supporting one another.
My favourite performance was a cover of I Know Who I Am, a gospel song about finding empowerment through God by Nigerian singer Sinach. When it was sung by RAB it became a statement of self-acceptance; of being proud to belong to the LGBT+ community and declaring ’I know who I am’ … it also made for a catchy gay pride anthem!
Got pride?
The first Pride event in London was held in 1972 and attended by just 2,000 participants. Since then it has grown exponentially in popularity with 30,000 people taking part in the march and over 1.5million spectators in 2019. I wondered if the evolution of Pride impacted the access of minority LGBT+ groups.
I began questioning in light of scale and expectation; who was Pride now for?
I wanted to know what members of RAB thought, so I spoke to member Ken who told me that Pride was an opportunity for him to celebrate his sexuality openly, something he had never been able to do in his own country. Another member, Stella, told me it was important for her to be visible in the UK - to provide hope for the LGBT+ people she knew left behind in Uganda. Pride gave each of them an opportunity to feel a sense of belonging in a foreign country.
I realised that attending Pride can be an emotionally profound experience for a person who has been forced to hide their existence from society. Open displays of sexuality have become more normalised in the UK, and these days it is easy to take our privileges for granted. By understanding how much the Rainbows Across Borders needed the opportunity to celebrate themselves, it helped to heal my own relationship with Gay Pride, and pretty soon we began to talk about the group’s next gig - Croydon PrideFest 2019.
Croydon PrideFest
PrideFest is like a home gig for RAB and they have been attending since its formation in Croydon, in 2016, when they were given the honour of leading the parade. Former Croydon Councillor and festival founder Mark Watson arranged for the free event to take place over the August bank holiday, launched by Croydon’s first openly gay Mayor, Wayne Trakas-Lawlor. The parade started in North End and concluded at a street party on Surrey Street Market. There were stalls for local LGBT+ groups, food vendors and even a small stage where RAB performed alongside other LGBT+ acts like local band Bugeye, and headliners Topping and Butch. The event was so popular that in 2017 it moved to a bigger location in Queen’s Gardens, followed by a further move to Wandle Park in 2018, where it became the second biggest Pride event in London.
In 2019 I was honoured to be asked to march with The Rainbows Across Borders in the Croydon pride parade, and help them to prepare for their performance on the main stage later that day. The parade began at the Town Centre with over 1000 people in attendance. There was a really fun and friendly atmosphere in the air, and a surprising number of families with kids who were running around with rainbow and unicorn balloons. I met up with RAB whose sound system was blaring and being pulled along on little rattling wheels. The group held a giant banner that read “Love Is Not A Crime”, and blew their whistles, danced and sang for the entire march. They were liberated, and celebrating every moment of it! We marched towards North End Junction and headed down Church Street towards Reeves Corner, feeling like we owned the place since the trams had been suspended for twenty whole minutes. We headed through Jubilee tunnel where our shouts and whistles echoed around us, and clambered up the steps of the bridge, weaving our way into Wandle Park.
The Rainbows Across Borders chorus opened the stage, and headline acts including Soju from RuPaul’s Drag Race, Lady Leshurr, Danny Beard and Croydon’s own David McAlmont. Hosting duties were shared between popular British-Nigerian drag queen Son of a Tutu, and Britain’s first out Muslim Drag Queen Asifa Lahore.
A special cabaret tent was erected to host Batty Mama, an organisation supporting black and brown queer performers, and Well Versed Ink, a Croydon based group that uses poetry and spoken word to empower communities, provided performances and workshops throughout the day.
As the evening drew to a close on PrideFest 2019, I felt a great affection for Croydon. The very town itself had opened its heart to the queer community, and from the moment I stepped into the parade, I felt accepted – a feeling that stayed with me long after the festival was over. Photos and videos of the day drifted onto social media and I began to comprehend just how many people had been touched by the event. Before my eyes I saw a whole fresh set of possible networks emerge and I felt my first urge to collect…
All images are copyrighted to one of the following: Museum of Croydon, Mark Goldby, Joseph Karanja, Croydon PrideFest, Lawrence Homewood and Piccaddo Studios.
For any more information please email museum@croydon.gov.uk