When photographer and filmmaker Grace Pickering was introduced to the work of trans activist Lou Sullivan, it completely changed their life.
Born in 1951, Sullivan is thought of as the world’s first documented gay trans man – though, of course, trans people have likely been around for far, far longer. His collated diaries from 1961 – 1991, We Both Laughed in Pleasure, are a pioneering piece of queer literature, or “a radical testament to trans happiness,” as The New Yorker once put it.
“Before learning about Lou, I didn’t really understand my identity,” Grace says over breakfast at the art’otel in Hoxton, East London. “He opened my mind up to the fact that so many of my own thoughts were related to my transness – that you could be a dyke fag, I think is the term. He put everything into perspective for me.”
It makes sense, then, for Grace to have named their first solo exhibition after Lou’s seminal work. We Both Laughed in Pleasure, which opened last week at the art’otel, is based around a short film Grace shot of their friends and peers, in a bid to shed light on a lesser known facet of the trans experience: transmasculinity and, crucially, transmasc people whose lives are full – of joy, friendship, professional and romantic success.
“I wanted to show the nuanced lives that people have,” Grace continues. “Whenever I see transmasc people represented, it’s in quite a stereotypically male way, which I know sounds quite funny. But I think being transmasc is its own thing – me and my friends identify as gay men, even though out in the world I will more than likely be treated as a woman. It’s a different culture.”
Alongside the film, which was produced by Greatcoat Films and commissioned by art’otel, Grace will exhibit a series of images inspired by historical trans and nonbinary figures, such as Joan of Arc, who has often been thought of as gender non-conforming; Schuyler Bailar, the legendary openly trans swimmer; and Gladys Bentley, a Harlem musician who would regularly get thrown into jail for the way they dressed in the 1930s.
​“Gladys would play at jazz clubs and was infamous in that area,” Grace says. ​“The police would routinely raid the place and arrest them. Gladys would spend the night in a cell and come right back the next day, in their three-piece suit and top hat. And yet they’ve been historically written about as a butch lesbian, despite living as a man. I was interested in showing that.”