Sexuality Displayed in Works by Arabs
DEARBORN, Michigan — Nabil Mousa’s first solo art exhibition was a joyous occasion, but it still brought tears to his eyes when he introduced his husband to the audience.
Mr. Mousa was born in Syria and immigrated to the United States with his conservative Christian parents. In 2000, when he came out, they soon disowned him.
Now, he was melding his two identities — gay and Arab — in a show of paintings here. And what was more surprising was where his work was being displayed: the Arab American National Museum, which was focusing for the first time on a gay artist’s exploration of discrimination.
Mr. Mousa, 51, is among a small but growing number of L.G.B.T. artists of Arab descent incorporating their sexual identity into their work. In doing so, they confront their own apprehensions, along with censorship and surveillance in the Arab world, and what some educators and curators say is a reluctance by some institutions in the United States to exhibit their work.
In “American Landscape: An Exploration of Art & Humanity,” Mr. Mousa’s gay identity is recogniz- able in a large work that replaces an American flag’s field of stars with the Human Rights Campaign’s bold “=” symbol. Mr. Mousa said he manipulated the American flag to address “the hypocrisy in our constitution, where they talk about every man is created under God, equal to others. But when you really look at it, people like me who are gay or people of color, we are substandard.”
Devon Akmon, the director of the Arab American National Museum, said the “American Landscape” show “challenges that small narrative that exists” about what ideas Arab-Americans will accept. “We’re trying to shed light on the diversity of our community,” he said.
Exhibitions that combine L.G.B.T. and Arab themes are rare. An exception was a 2015 show at the Leslie- Lohman Museum of Gay and Lesbian Art in New York called “Irreverent: A Celebration of Censorship,” which showcased attempts to suppress queer sexuality and creativity.
Among those in the exhibit was the Lebanese artist Omar Mismar. Within the Arab world, Mr. Mismar said, Lebanon is viewed as “allowing a space for out gay artists and creators to exist, but at the same time things are never really guaranteed.” Laws criminalizing homosexual acts are still in effect, with arbitrary enforcement.
His installation, “The Man Who Waited for a Kiss,” consisted of murky, surveillance- style photographs of himself interacting with men he met in the United States.
Mr. Mismar, 31, teaches at the American University of Beirut and the Académie Libanaise des BeauxArts. Yet none of his gay-identified work has been exhibited in Lebanon.
Such exhibitions flourish in San Francisco. Jamil Hellu, 41, an artist there, was born in Brazil to a Syrian father and Paraguayan mother, moving to the United States in 1996.
He has merged his gay and Arab identities in provocative, sexually charged art. His installations include drawings of himself in jockstraps and kaffiyehs, the Middle Eastern male head scarf. “There is not only a duality, but a tension,” he said.
Many Arabs and Muslims who see his work tell him he is brave. “My experiences have been very positive so far,” he said. “It would be a very different story if I brought this work to Turkey or showed this work in Qatar.”