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| The Most Famous Lesbian Photographer You’ve Never Heard of — Until Now | The Most Famous Lesbian Photographer You’ve Never Heard of — Until Now |
| (3 days later) | |
| I hadn’t known Donna Gottschalk’s name, but for years I’ve had an image of her tacked to my bulletin board — a perfectly anonymous, beautifully bold lesbian forebear. | I hadn’t known Donna Gottschalk’s name, but for years I’ve had an image of her tacked to my bulletin board — a perfectly anonymous, beautifully bold lesbian forebear. |
| The portrait was made by Diana Davies at the 1970 Christopher Street Gay Liberation Day rally. It’s an image of pride, playfulness and promise at the beginning of the Gay Rights movement in North America. Gottschalk holds up a sign that reads: “I am your worst fear / I am your best fantasy.” Its unevenly printed all caps black marker on plain white poster board is deceptively simple. Gottschalk’s slightly raised chin and upturned mouth project an air of unabashed confidence and confrontation. | The portrait was made by Diana Davies at the 1970 Christopher Street Gay Liberation Day rally. It’s an image of pride, playfulness and promise at the beginning of the Gay Rights movement in North America. Gottschalk holds up a sign that reads: “I am your worst fear / I am your best fantasy.” Its unevenly printed all caps black marker on plain white poster board is deceptively simple. Gottschalk’s slightly raised chin and upturned mouth project an air of unabashed confidence and confrontation. |
| This image of Ms. Gottschalk will hold pride of place among works by her in “Brave, Beautiful Outlaws,” opening at Leslie-Lohman Museum of Gay and Lesbian Art on Aug. 29. While Ms. Gottschalk doesn’t identify as a documentary photographer or a photojournalist, she has been making pictures since she was 17. Photos selected from her 50-year personal archive will be made public for the first time. | This image of Ms. Gottschalk will hold pride of place among works by her in “Brave, Beautiful Outlaws,” opening at Leslie-Lohman Museum of Gay and Lesbian Art on Aug. 29. While Ms. Gottschalk doesn’t identify as a documentary photographer or a photojournalist, she has been making pictures since she was 17. Photos selected from her 50-year personal archive will be made public for the first time. |
| “Donna Gottschalk is the most famous lesbian photographer you’ve never heard of — until now” said Deborah Bright, the exhibition curator. | “Donna Gottschalk is the most famous lesbian photographer you’ve never heard of — until now” said Deborah Bright, the exhibition curator. |
| Ms. Gottschalk’s work documents her closeness with her biological family (poorer-than-working-class N.Y.C. stock) and her involvement with the radical lesbian, sometimes separatist, communities in the late ’60s and ’70s. | Ms. Gottschalk’s work documents her closeness with her biological family (poorer-than-working-class N.Y.C. stock) and her involvement with the radical lesbian, sometimes separatist, communities in the late ’60s and ’70s. |
| Only a few of these images were published in their time — in the Gay Liberation Front newspaper, for example. Moving from New York City to San Francisco (where her three siblings eventually joined her and two came out as gay) and back again, Ms. Gottschalk paid the bills by working various jobs, from artist’s model and topless bartender to a driver of horse-drawn carriages and cabs. Later, she became a master technician, becoming one of the owners and the operator of a photo lab in Connecticut. Home is currently a small farm in rural Vermont. | Only a few of these images were published in their time — in the Gay Liberation Front newspaper, for example. Moving from New York City to San Francisco (where her three siblings eventually joined her and two came out as gay) and back again, Ms. Gottschalk paid the bills by working various jobs, from artist’s model and topless bartender to a driver of horse-drawn carriages and cabs. Later, she became a master technician, becoming one of the owners and the operator of a photo lab in Connecticut. Home is currently a small farm in rural Vermont. |
| “Brave, Beautiful Outlaws” focuses on her early work, during the time of her most intense political activism. Ms. Bright identifies Ms. Gottschalk as a “talented and sensitive visual storyteller,” whose work comprises a “vital contribution to the historical record.” Part autobiography, part ethnography, Ms. Gottschalk’s work counters the gross elision of the lesbian in the annals of queer history. Hers is a community of the socially and politically marginalized, fellow “freaks” and “outcasts” — many of whom were first cast out of their families of origin — those invisible to or rejected by the mainstream. | “Brave, Beautiful Outlaws” focuses on her early work, during the time of her most intense political activism. Ms. Bright identifies Ms. Gottschalk as a “talented and sensitive visual storyteller,” whose work comprises a “vital contribution to the historical record.” Part autobiography, part ethnography, Ms. Gottschalk’s work counters the gross elision of the lesbian in the annals of queer history. Hers is a community of the socially and politically marginalized, fellow “freaks” and “outcasts” — many of whom were first cast out of their families of origin — those invisible to or rejected by the mainstream. |
| Compare Davies’s protest portrait of Ms. Gottschalk to Ms. Gottschalk’s “Self-Portrait, Maine” (1976); here, Ms. Gottschalk lounges atop a wrinkled bed tucked cozily in the corner of a log cabin on a rural commune. She looks directly at the camera, with an attitude of profound self-possession and resolve, as if to say, “I’m here, I’m queer, get used to it.” She emphasizes the inextricable connection between sexuality and activism for lesbians: To live and to love is protest. | Compare Davies’s protest portrait of Ms. Gottschalk to Ms. Gottschalk’s “Self-Portrait, Maine” (1976); here, Ms. Gottschalk lounges atop a wrinkled bed tucked cozily in the corner of a log cabin on a rural commune. She looks directly at the camera, with an attitude of profound self-possession and resolve, as if to say, “I’m here, I’m queer, get used to it.” She emphasizes the inextricable connection between sexuality and activism for lesbians: To live and to love is protest. |
| The image of women asleep in a single bed in “Sleepers, Limerick, Pennsylvania” (1970) illustrates the point: Above the bed, half-visible at the margins of the frame, hangs a political poster declaring “Lesbians Unite!” A statement and an imperative, it’s a perfectly cheeky double-entendre. In public and in private, in the streets or between the sheets, Ms. Gottschalk reminds us that the personal is always and necessarily political — and vice versa. | The image of women asleep in a single bed in “Sleepers, Limerick, Pennsylvania” (1970) illustrates the point: Above the bed, half-visible at the margins of the frame, hangs a political poster declaring “Lesbians Unite!” A statement and an imperative, it’s a perfectly cheeky double-entendre. In public and in private, in the streets or between the sheets, Ms. Gottschalk reminds us that the personal is always and necessarily political — and vice versa. |
| It is surreal to speak on the phone with someone who has existed photographically for me since my own coming out in the 1990s. We talk about queering time and the renewed intensity of activism in the current political climate; the need for yet more Marches on Washington; the sisterhood of the #MeToo movement; the persistence of social and structural indifference, intolerance and violence. We talk about what has changed since she took these photographs and what hasn’t, about the necessity of “witnessing our own histories.” | It is surreal to speak on the phone with someone who has existed photographically for me since my own coming out in the 1990s. We talk about queering time and the renewed intensity of activism in the current political climate; the need for yet more Marches on Washington; the sisterhood of the #MeToo movement; the persistence of social and structural indifference, intolerance and violence. We talk about what has changed since she took these photographs and what hasn’t, about the necessity of “witnessing our own histories.” |
| Ms. Gottschalk’s subjects are friends, family, partners: loved ones, all. I ask her what compelled her to pick up her camera at particular moments. She talks about being drawn to the beauty, bravery and mystery she saw in those around her, especially in an era when coming out came at great cost. | Ms. Gottschalk’s subjects are friends, family, partners: loved ones, all. I ask her what compelled her to pick up her camera at particular moments. She talks about being drawn to the beauty, bravery and mystery she saw in those around her, especially in an era when coming out came at great cost. |
| Photography was her way of understanding, her “attempt to fathom.” Her photos are personal, domestic and intimate; most are set in interior, domestic spaces, and always in natural light (her friends would not abide flash!). Too many of her loved ones met early, tragic deaths, including two siblings, one of whom is a major protagonist in the exhibition. We see the life of her sibling Alfie as a childhood brother, as a gay man, as the newly transitioned Myla just before her death from an AIDS-related illness in her 40s. | Photography was her way of understanding, her “attempt to fathom.” Her photos are personal, domestic and intimate; most are set in interior, domestic spaces, and always in natural light (her friends would not abide flash!). Too many of her loved ones met early, tragic deaths, including two siblings, one of whom is a major protagonist in the exhibition. We see the life of her sibling Alfie as a childhood brother, as a gay man, as the newly transitioned Myla just before her death from an AIDS-related illness in her 40s. |
| The photos are tinged with mourning and mystery. She’s been holding their memory for decades, “fiercely protective” and unwilling to “subject them to scrutiny, judgment and abuse” from the outside world. | The photos are tinged with mourning and mystery. She’s been holding their memory for decades, “fiercely protective” and unwilling to “subject them to scrutiny, judgment and abuse” from the outside world. |
| “Understand, people didn’t care about them or my pictures of them back in the day,” she said. “I had to.” Seeing her own death on the horizon, she doesn’t want her queer comrades to die with her. This exhibition invites us to fathom their beauty, their bravery, as well as her love. | “Understand, people didn’t care about them or my pictures of them back in the day,” she said. “I had to.” Seeing her own death on the horizon, she doesn’t want her queer comrades to die with her. This exhibition invites us to fathom their beauty, their bravery, as well as her love. |
| “These people were all very dear to me,” she said. “And they were beautiful. These pictures are the only memorial some of these people will ever have.” | “These people were all very dear to me,” she said. “And they were beautiful. These pictures are the only memorial some of these people will ever have.” |
| “Brave, Beautiful Outlaws” opens at Leslie-Lohman Museum of Gay and Lesbian Art on Aug. 29, and the opening reception with Donna Gottschalk will be held on Sept. 29. | |
| Follow @nytimesphoto on Twitter. Kerry Manders is on Instagram. You can also find Lens on Facebook and Instagram. | Follow @nytimesphoto on Twitter. Kerry Manders is on Instagram. You can also find Lens on Facebook and Instagram. |