Is it, as the academic Kenneth Roth has argued, a narrative of narrow import, not part of traditional culture? It should come as no surprise that centuries of exploitation towards queer history compound our societal failures. At a time when change is needed, studies show a gulf in how the pandemic has led to a steep increase in discrimination for queer folk—particularly Black and Latinx LGBTQ+—who are facing significantly high levels of bias. On the whole, however, the normalisation of “legal silence” has led to fatal consequences, which says a lot about our governments. Take, for example, the proportion of LGBTQ+ members that are victimised: research has shown that 2.8 billion people are living in countries where identifying as gay could lead to imprisonment, corporal punishment or even death. In plain contrast, only 780 million people are living in countries where same-sex marriage or civil unions are a legal right. And what follows leaves these marginalised communities at risk (case in point: a similar wrong that trans women of colour are subjected to), fuelling alienation amidst the social divide.

There have been cultural howlers and horrific cases, and each of them is a calamity for queer people. On the other side there are those who comprehend the historical narratives as a principle of change, but Western culture has criminalised history against specific groups. To paint a better picture—and detoxify a disruptive, shameful legacy—look to European colonisation: a recent Stonewall study argues the spread of fundamentalist Christian attitudes from the British meant that much of Africa, for instance, lost its previous cultural attitude towards sexual orientation and gender identity and were forced to adopt new values from British colonisers in the 19th and 20th centuries. This is why scepticism towards the West and homophobia are strongly entwined.

But in times of unrest, what can change in future for queer folk around the world? It would be strange if we don’t question it. Ironically, it’s a critique I had to deal with too, but that’s not the point. In many countries, despite the irksome legacy of colonisation, systems cannot withstand the entitlement of marginalised communities. It’s easy to see why. LGBTQ+ History Month is a great example: established in the US back in 1994, the UK didn’t join in until 11 years later in 2005. What’s striking about this is that it took centuries of work to give queer folk the chance to celebrate their joys and identity, as their beliefs are often seen as threatening.

Fast forward two decades from the founding of LGBTQ+ History Month, every single development helps us move forward, and the people at the forefront of change—whether queer or not—too should be acknowledged. Here to shed light on this issue is a brilliant generation of photographers, who caught up with Vogue to explore the depths of queer identity by way of art, literature, and photography, presenting an alternative view of queerness that is synonymous with the dynamic spirit of its community. Thankfully, they’re as real as they can get.

David Uzochukwu@daviduzochukwu

“Reflecting on queer history is particularly relevant during this pandemic. The most unsettling personal realisation I had in the early stages of Covid-19 spreading was that for one of the first times, I really knew that a stranger’s fear of my body was justified. We must mourn a ‘before,’ and make good use of this unwilling knowledge of just how interconnected we all are. A queer generation before us had to make this realization on their own, facing HIV under governments that did not care to respond. As the lines of public and private shift today, and the very communities our ancestors and contemporaries have built grow isolated, the overarching questions seems to be: How can we envision new futures, where one person’s freedom does not come at the price of another’s? In my images, vulnerability is a power that connects us to our surroundings. And there are lessons to be learnt from the highest and lowest points of Western queer history about safe and inclusive world building.”

SCANDEBERGS’ Alberto Albanese & Stefano Colombini@scandebergs

“Liminal Paintings is a series of 15 artworks—combining film photography and digital painting—conceived as a visual reflection on themes very close to us, of our identity as LGBTQI+ artists and the current state of the world. We wanted to depict a daydream, where longing for physical touch and intimacy are transformed into soft memories of unknown, yet archetypically familiar, bodies and events. The hazy figures emerge from the canvas through blurred edges: they are longing for togetherness, in stark contrast with the solitary monuments, headless statues and masks. However, the inanimate and the living peacefully coexist, complementing each other's fluid nature. The mask appears as the ultimate symbol of queer transcendence, manifesting itself as the Jungian concept of ‘Persona’ (or how we present ourselves to the world) and it’s finally at peace with the body. In this soft dream, edges are blurred, and the figures embrace their sense of longing, making space for joyful fantasies and nostalgia for the unknown.”

Myles Loftin@mylesloftin

“These images are from my most recent personal project, 'In The Life.’  It is an exploration of black queer identity that focuses on the exclusion of black queer life in photography and our society at large. I am creating an archive of images that black queer people can look to for solace or inspiration. The photographs depict black queer people both in public and intimate settings performing everyday tasks. We have been a present and active part of history for centuries, but our lives have seldom been honoured or accorded value. I think it is extremely important that we are not only acknowledged in our deaths or in performing monolithic versions of queerness. We deserve to be seen, and to be understood just as we are.”

Santiago González Sánchez@iamsantiagogonzalez

“Historically, women’s role in society has always been positioned on a lower podium, considering patriarchy as the core force. Even the LGBTQ+ collective has acquired this social pattern, giving more visibility and representation to men instead of women, which implies not having an equal treatment. Through my work, I wanted to depict a love story between the talented Miriam Sanchez and her girlfriend Alba, who are searching for the deserved place women should have, particularly amid the collective, and, specially, in our society.”

Jo Fetto@jofetto

“This Month is an opportunity to break the heteronormative narrative and appropriate parts of history in which LGBTQ+ people have been eradicated from. I shot this project during the first lockdown with my flatmate, Rulfur, and Giacomo Bevanati, the wire-designer who realised the amazing pieces used in the image. We covered Rulfur with chalk in order to resemble the idea of deconstructing ‘conventional masculinity’ as a layer coming off the body. This series is inspired by the ‘Great Masculinity Renunciation,’ a phenomenon at the end of the 18th century that radically altered men's fashion and the appearance of what was considered masculine in society: men were expected to abandon glamourous, colourful and flamboyant garments, typical of the aristocracy. Fashion was deemed the realm of women as they were seen as more frivolous and emotional than men. For men being fashionable, would come to be associated with effeminacy and flamboyance, and therefore homosexuality. This series recalls an important piece of fashion history where gender stereotypes became defined and how clothing embodies the performance of power, still present in menswear.”

Tair Adato@zerufa

“Mine is a celebration of the energy of the infamous Independence park in Tel Aviv, known as a cruising space for the LGBTQ+ community. Back then, cruising in the park was accompanied by a feeling of fear and shame. We chose to recapture and focus on freedom and pride, reimagining what it may look like today.”

Rochelle Brockington@rochellefatleopard

“Having a month dedicated to educating others on the LGBTQ+ and their accomplishments throughout history is extremely important. But I also feel like the community is more than their accomplishments and achievements. They are people who for years have been misunderstood and marginalised. Most of these images are a part of my ongoing film and polaroid project where I photograph my friends and models in their homes. The main theme in my work that I like to keep consistent is inclusivity; not only size inclusivity but inclusivity that highlights the LGBTQ+ community as well. My subjects come from many walks of life and I think it is important to show them in their natural state. Whatever that may look like for them. With my images I hope to capture what normalcy looks like for them without being performative for societal gaze.”

Julien Sage@julien__sage

“As we fluidly incorporate fashion into our individual ways of self-expression, we, in turn, create a safer world for people to move about however they choose. The photos are about representation and redefinition. Masculinity is something I’ve continuously witnessed get reshaped and expanded, which I find endlessly exciting as well as necessary.”

Ashton Hugh@ashton.hf

“My images embody the dawn of a new age in trans acceptance. There are still places in the world where it is punishable by law to be yourself, where a body like this can mean a prison sentence. There is still a lot of progress to be made. Now more than ever, trans people are rightly being recognised and celebrated for the beauty, power and resilience they have always possessed. Inspired by trans trailblazers such as Spanish politician and activist Carla Antonelli, my images focus on the authenticity, beauty and conquered femininity of the trans female body. Femininity is not weakness; it is power, it is passion, it is love.” 

Mark Fitton@markfitton

“My autobiographical work explores my relationship to my parents as their gay son, using photography as a space to express ideas of intimacy and sexuality freely. Through these images, we attempt to defy gender roles within the family unit and create a new album where queerness is both accepted and made visible.”

Laurence Philomene@laurencephilomene

“Growing up, the only access I had to queer history was through a few photography books I borrowed at the library. In lieu of institutional recognition, I feel that a lot of our history as marginalized folks is passed down through self-documentation as a means of reclaiming our narrative, which is something that’s always been fascinating to me. I think of reclaiming the freedom to create our own story as an integral part of embodying queerness. The images I’m sharing with you were shot this past week as part of Puberty, an ongoing autobiographical project that looks at the intimate and vital process of caring for myself as a non-binary transgender person undergoing hormonal replacement therapy (HRT) and celebrates transition as a space for exploration without a fixed end goal.

Since January 2019, I have been documenting the changes testosterone generates in my body and moods through daily photographs. The resulting images are simultaneously staged and candid, created by setting up a tripod in my home as I go about my routines. Set in highly-saturated domestic spaces, these photographs look at minute details of transition which are seldom represented and given access to. Puberty takes root in the tradition of diaristic autobiographical photography - namely Nan Goldin’s classic Ballad of Sexual Dependency, as well as the works of photographers such as Texas Isaiah, Hobbes Ginsberg, and all my trans siblings reclaiming our narratives.

Having dedicated my practice to documenting non-binary lives over the last five years, Puberty allows me to dig deeper into what it means to reclaim autonomy over our stories as marginalized individuals. In addition to this, I work with the hope of providing representation to and solidarity with future generations of queer and trans individuals as they navigate both personal joys and institutional hardship and erasure.”

Clotilde Petrosino@clotildepetrosino

“Growing up, I’ve always felt different from others and at first, I didn’t have the means to understand why. I truly believe that learning LGBTQIA+ history at school and feeling represented by others in movies, Tv, advertising and books can make a huge difference. Through my work as a queer photographer and artist, I feel I have a responsibility of speaking up, by telling stories of people of the LGBTQIA+ community. Because alongside words, images are a very strong means of communication. Every action no matter how small can change our world, making it better.”

Matt Lambert@dielamb

“The normalisation of queer intimacy in image-making is political in and of itself.”

Andrea Cenetiempo@andreacenetiempo

“Inspired by French queer classic Johan by Philippe Vallois and the Parisian cruising scene of the time, our project is a celebration of ‘70s queerness, a time when an earring, a bandana or tight jeans were part of a secret code to recognize and identify other homosexual men. In a time when secret gay bars and safe spaces where regularly shut down by the law enforcement and gay men were usually rejected by their families for being too flamboyant, the woods and empty parks often became the only places where gay people could meet and express their sexualities.”

Joel Palmer@_boyheart_

“2020 was a pinnacle year in my development as a creative. Changes to traditional ways of working meant that I leant further into the self-sufficiency of the POC and LGBTQ+ that, which felt especially significant during a time when the plights of these minorities was finally beginning to receive much-needed attention. Throughout the year, I developed a creative studio and production company using the inspirational figures from my collective of POC/LGBTQ+ as the basis, meaning the stories were inspired by real relationships and real experiences. Styled, casted and shot by myself to portray a raw, authentic narrative, they tell of struggle, love, hardship - work that is unafraid to speak to all facets of humanity. In 2021 and beyond, I envision a world where creative outlets celebrate all stories, bodies, voices and experiences. I want my work to uplift and inspire the communities that inspire all that I do, ensuring that everybody has a seat at a creative table no longer defined by traditional binaries or creative norms.”

Emanuele Centi@centi.emanuele

“Through my photographic journey, I developed a strong interest in the search for identity (a mystery and beauty of what it means to make a portrait) and in the importance of finding one’s tuning. I think those are both at the core of what connected some of my latest projects to the LGBTQ+ community. The idea of shooting a series of studies for a portrait of Eurydice was inspired by Portrait of a Lady on Fire. The myth of Orpheus and Eurydice becomes an allegory for equality. The muse Eurydice decides to be left in the after world by calling on her the fatal gaze of the artist and lover Orpheus (“Perhaps she was the one who said, Turn around”). In the same way, the artist protagonist struggles portraying her muse, who refuses being objectified by the lifeless conventions and frigid rules of the tradition of art. She is not passive nor dominated by the artist’s gaze. Eurydice escapes the control of the artist’s gaze and becomes the artist’s equal. True art is, after all, an exploration and research of one’s own identity. By escaping the artist’s gaze, Eurydice allows us to reflect on the concept of identity, the importance of equality and of being in the conditions of finding one’s own tuning. She also reminds us of how true art and culture are the only ways to true equality and defeating prejudice.”

Conor Clinch@conorclinch

“It's great to see a rise in LGBTQ+ culture in the mainstream today, such as with the TV series It's a Sin, as I think it's so important to be educated on LGBTQ+ history. During lockdown, I've come to realise what I really want to achieve as a photographer, and it is simply to tell stories in an authentic and inclusive way. This series of images I shot is really special to me as they represent just how expressive and diverse our society is. I hope that our world can continue to evolve in this way as nobody should ever feel ashamed for being themselves.”

Mayan Toledano@thisismayan

“If we want to learn anything about our history or our future, we need to listen to trans people. Each of the people I shot in my project have been a great teacher to me; Mexico city, 2018-2020.”

Roxy Lee@roxy_lee

“For me, being part the queer community in London and having people allow me to enter their spaces with a camera is something at this point I’m not sure I could live without. Luckily my LGBTQ+ month is all year round, but I think it’s important we have one month of celebration.”