The art of archiving transmasculine identity
Sweatmother presents a collection of film stills from their catalog, along with an essay by Ellis Jackson Kroese. WORDS ELLIS JACKSON KROESE IMAGES COURTESY OF SWEATMOTHER EXCERPT AND SPREADS FROM AFM WITH THANKS TO FEELD I’ve always felt uneasy with the terms archive/archiving/archivist, probably in a similar way to how I reacted against “lesbian” in high school—not me!
I’m not qualified! No certification! Lesbianism felt scary and certain, a gold star required on the resumé. I didn’t want to take the test, so I didn’t apply.
Of course, I ended up a lesbian anyway, the way we often do. The unofficial route—you blink and find yourself in Manchester with your partner of 7 years in matching Birkenstocks and you realise it happened, you’re here, you’re it.
No papers necessary. I became an archivist in a similar way. I dropped history lessons as soon as I could. Essays bored me, and I’d much rather make ceramics in the back of the art room.
