What does it mean to see queerness in a place like a museum, especially when such queerness is unintended, unexpected, not explicit, or purposefully obscured? This digital exhibition features works of (queer) art displayed in museums around the Washington DC-Maryland area and beyond. Working with Margaret Middleton’s guidebook “Looking for Queer Possibility in the Museum” and S. Adam Crawley’s chapter “Queer Reading” from the Encyclopedia of Queer Studies in Education, students in Dylan Lewis’s Fall 2023 & Spring 2025 LGBT/ENGL 265 (LGBTQ+ Literatures and Media, Queer Media Histories) at the University of Maryland did queer readings of art on display at museums such as the National Gallery of Art, the Hirshhorn Museum, the Smithsonian American Art Museum, and others in order to explore queerness or non-normativity in art through genre, content, and/or form even when queerness is not explicit or intended. Please put on your lavender lenses and join us in seeing the queer possibility of artistic expression! Assignment description here! “So many people of varying sexual practices, too, enjoy incorrigibly absorbing imaginative, artistic, intellectual, and affective lives that have been richly nourished by queer energies—and that are savagely diminished when the queerness of those energies is trashed or disavowed.” Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick, “Queer and Now”
The Bather (Paul Cézanne, 1885, oil on canvas. Museum of Modern Art.)
“There was nothing inherently sexual about the piece, in fact, it subverted being sexualized with the subject’s glances down and reserved posture. But despite that fact, masculine nude bodies are often inferred to be homosexual in nature while feminine nude bodies are heterosexual in nature. This may come from the fact that male audiences are typically the ones doing the viewing, taking power and control in the process.”
Ira Aldridge as Othello (Henry Perronet Briggs, 1830, oil on canvas. National Portrait Gallery.)
"I don't think the queerness here is necessarily about who Aldridge might have been attracted to; however, it's more about performance and visual resistance. The green gown, those earrings, the way he's posed, all of these elements break away from typical masculine presentation. He's not shown as the tough, emotionless man that history might expect. Instead, he appears emotional, dressed in flowing fabric, gazing expressively, styled with obvious care."
"Untitled" (A Portrait) (Felix Gonzalez-Torres, 1991/1995, video, monitor, pedestal, and chairs. National Portrait Gallery.)
"Queer activism is becoming more widespread, which can result in those who are indifferent towards us discounting any form of queer media as something they acknowledge but make no effort to fully understand, simply because they are not queer themselves. By presenting his story in a purely human element first, such an attitude is avoided, and Gonzalez-Torres’s queer experience is still received by those who are not queer themselves."
Theseus Fighting the Minotaur (Antoine-Louis Barye, 1857–1873, bronze. National Gallery of Art.)
“the Minotaur has his leg coiled around Theseus’ thigh, gripping his shoulder as he is thrust backward, the small of his back arched in a way that feels both vulnerable and suggestive. Theseus stands firmly upright, legs planted wide, holding his sword toward his opponent in a clear display of dominance and control. The physical interaction between the two creates an intimate and erotic demonstration.”
Three Figures (Lorna Simpson, 2014, ink and screenprint on clayboard. National Portrait Gallery.)
"This piece sets off my “gaydar” because the artwork tells a message of intersectionality by representing the struggles of race and gender simultaneously. Simpson utilizes value, asymmetry, and texture in Three Figures to represent the gender ambiguity and the internal struggle and conflict with that of her race"
Suit jacket worn by Luther Vandross (Tony Chase, ca.1990, polyester, silk, rhinestone, plastic, and thread. National Museum of African American History and Culture.)
"This suit reminded me of other musical artists such as Prince who also went against gender norms when it came to not only his style but his way of life as well. I feel as though this suit was Luther Vandross’ more subtle attempt at going against the gender norms surrounding clothing and style, and while it wasn’t as flamboyant as Prince, it definitely has its queer undertones as well."
The Loge (Mary Cassatt, 1978-1880, oil on canvas. The National Gallery of Art.)
"The queerness of the piece lies more in its subversion of gender norms and the male gaze– rather than in the subjects’ relationship (though there can also be some interpretations for homosexual relationships). Earlier in the semester we discussed Mulvey’s perception of the “male gaze” within contemporary film. Upon exploring the museums in Washington DC I realized that this male gaze can be applied to different types of media unrelated to film- such as paintings."
Saint Martin and the Beggar (El Greco [Domenikos Theotokopoulos], 1597/1599, oil on canvas. National Gallery of Art.)
“the beggar’s bare body is postured to longingly look and almost gawk at Saint Martin. Saint Martin, in particular, has no look of distress but rather with further elegance and it is upheld by his graceful armor—almost flamboyant.”
Mother and Child (Miné Okubo, 1992, acrylic on canvas. Smithsonian American Art Museum.).
“the vase in the background of the piece holds a variety of flowers, and two of them are drawn at a distinctive angle. At first glance, this might seem like nothing more than a stylistic choice or a realistic depiction of drooping flowers. However, to me, the shape and placement of these two flowers closely resembled a pair of breasts, slightly tilted toward the viewer. It felt like a subtle, almost hidden nod to femininity, intimacy, and queer identity, a visual metaphor in plain sight."
Untitled (Portrait of Ross in L.A.) (Félix González-Torres, 1991, wrapped candy. National Portrait Gallery.).
"This portrait humanizes the queer relationship, contrasting the sensationalism found in media portrayals both during and after the AIDS epidemic. It goes beyond the human body and highlights the emotions that are felt within, going against the norms that enforce rigid standards of how people are supposed to be depicted in order for a portrait to be 'art'."
Portrait of Mnonja (Mickalene Thomas, 2010, rhinestones, enamel, & acrylic on wood panel. Smithsonian American Art Museum.).
"While rhinestones are typically seen as cheap, crude, and more for the crafts of children, Thomas has used them to their full potential in this piece, using the rhinestones as a way to differentiate texture in the piece and even using them to shade some parts, such as Mnonja’s pants. Even more, the rhinestones are centered mostly on Mnonja, as Thomas made sure to not focus as heavily on placing the stones in the background of the piece, making Mnonja literally and figuratively shine."
Skating in Central Park (Agnes Tait, 1934, oil on canvas. Smithsonian American Art Museum.).
"What specifically set my “gaydar” off in this painting were the two women in the bottom middle of the river. They aren’t just holding hands or skating next to each other, rather, these two are connected, more intertwined."
Clytie & California (Hiram Powers, 1860 & 1873, marble. Smithsonian American Art Museum.)
“in the Smithsonian American Art Museum, Clytie is arranged such that her gaze is centered on California. This offers the interpretation that Clytie has fallen in love with California, that California is Clytie’s new Sun. California is allure personified, and Clytie is not subtle when it comes to displaying her affections.”
Nude Warrior with a Spear (Théodore Gericault, 1818, oil on canvas. National Gallery of Art.).
"We have their lean, muscular body, but a lean, muscular body doesn't determine anything. Whether the artist intended to or not, they created this strong, independent tone towards this seemingly genderless warrior."
Young Peasant Girls Resting in the Fields near Pontoise (Camille Pissaro, 1882, oil on canvas. National Gallery of Art.).
"The girls look deeply into each other's eyes with no one else in sight. They are absorbed in each other's presence, which shows their intimacy and romance. It seems as though they are escaping the heteronormative world around them and finding solace in their connection to their private world."
Night in Bologna (Paul Cadmus, egg tempera on canvas, Smithsonian American Art Museum.).
“It is easy for a viewer to interpret the looks between man and woman as sexual, while a same-sex glance can be passed off as close friendship or simple admiration. If one assumes that the nighttime looks of the woman and the soldier are those of wanting, it forces the viewer to recognize that same erotic feeling in the stare of the man at the table, with the same-sex soldier as the object of his affection.”
The Love Letter (Francois Boucher, 1750, oil on canvas. National Gallery of Art.).
"...both of these women cannot stop looking into each other's eyes. This can reference some sort of unrequited love as they are looking into each other's eyes but due to the time, are unable to share how they feel about each other. ... A lion could also represent the strength that it took for both women to overcome their own internalized homophobia and heternormativity to finally confess their feelings to each other."
