Beau Gomez

Through photography, Beau Gomez activates narration and the field of possibilities that it proposes: how is it a vehicle for illustrating memory, a pivotal point of tension and affect? How does it allow for the radical exercise of witnessing in the present? In his portraiture work, Gomez opens a dialogue with his subjects as he points his lens at them. His empathic gaze builds kinship with and care for his subjects. Essentially, he brings to light the character and the projected image – whether real or performed – of the person photographed. It is a practice that enables him to make sense of his world and of what he sees and experiences.

Gomez arrived at Est-Nord-Est with a specific project in mind, which he had been pondering for a while: it was time to turn the lens on himself. He wanted to understand what he was going through and how, with empathy, he could care for himself. Turning the lens on himself had become a necessity: he had to attend to himself, magnify his own reality. Such a gesture would reconcile him with the fact that he was living with HIV. He had made the conscious choice to continue leading his life – especially the life of an artist: what might his life look like now that he was no longer in survival mode? When he had received his diagnosis, he was extremely hard on himself; by offering himself the compassion that he normally had for his subjects, the self-portrait enabled him to unlearn the reflex that kept him from flourishing.

Gomez had a clear idea of the image he wanted to produce; the final result, not foreordained, appeared when he developed his film. He feels that there is a spiritual aspect to using an analogue camera: this “apparition” is essential to his conception of the project and to his sensitive capture of his subjects. He regularly uses an audio recorder, which amplifies and defines what he wants to talk about and also adds breadth to the image. This soundtrack allows him to make sense of his diagnosis, of his life: it is a tangible way to perceive his world, but also to listen actively to himself.

Through his residency project, Gomez gave himself permission to be seen as he sees his subjects. He was excited about the idea of being able to show that people living with HIV can live, love, have fun, be sexual, prosper. Who sensitively documents marginalized people with this diagnosis? How can the gaze historically turned toward white male artists such as Robert Mapplethorpe and David Wojnarowicz be updated? Thanks to the mentorship of Richard Fung and Darien Taylor and collaborative friendships with Beto Pérez and Lírio Nascimento, and by leading support groups both in Canada and abroad, Gomez engages politically in his art practice, building a transformative language around living with HIV.