Jesse Egner

Jesse Egner is a queer artist and educator working primarily with photography and video. Often taking the form of playful and absurd portraiture of himself and other individuals, his work explores themes of queerness, disidentification, queer corporeality, and the uncanny.

Egner was born in 1993 in Lancaster, Pennsylvania and is currently based in Brooklyn, New York. He received his BA from Millersville University of Pennsylvania and his MFA from Parsons School of Design. His work has recently been included in exhibitions at Plaxall Gallery, Ohio University Seigfred Gallery, Emerge Gallery, Filter Photo, University of Texas Meadows Gallery, Photographic Center Northwest, El Rincón Social, Box 13 ArtSpace, Columbia College Chicago, Academy Art Museum, the Festival de Arte Lanzarote, and the Pingyao International Photography Festival.

His photographs have been featured in publications by CNN Style, PUBLIC Journal, Cumulus Photo, Soft Lightning, Plataforma Minima, Queer Photo Collective, and Photographer’s Forum. His work is also included in the permanent collection at the Kiyosato Museum of Photographic Arts.

Interview by Dana Stirling

First Can you share how your journey with photography first started?

 I was always interested in creative pursuits. As a kid, I was really interested in theater and music, and was even planning on studying music in college for the longest time. However, when the time came, I decided to major in sociology at Millersville University as I was aiming to get into queer studies. I realized, though, that studying sociology wasn’t the best fit for me. I ended up taking an intro to darkroom photography course as an elective and instantly fell in love. After taking a few more photography courses, I decided to change my major to art. After completing undergrad, I went on to get my MFA in Photography from Parsons School of Design which I completed in August 2020.

In your project “Disidentifications (2019)” you write in your statement “As a gay man with a non-normative body and invisible disability, I have experienced constant rejection from members of my fellow gay community, forcing me into a precarious relationship with myself.” I found this statement to be on one hand a gut ranching read but for me, there was something also empowering about taking control back and making something out of this pain and experience. Can you tell us more about your experience and how it has shaped your art making?

I had been bullied for my body for almost as long as I can remember. My body, in combination with being more interested in more creative activities, set me apart from my peers. I already felt like an outsider, years before I realized I was queer. When I started to piece together that I might be gay, it devastated me. I remember thinking, oh great, another thing to be made fun of, to add fuel to the already blazing fire. I had to overcome this battle within myself, which took years.

After starting to come out, I had hoped to find a welcoming queer community where I could feel accepted. Unfortunately, that isn’t what I found. When I first started making profiles on gay websites and apps, such as Grindr, I came across the phrase “No femmes, no fats,” proudly displayed on other users’ bios. The bullying and harassment I experienced from my peers in school continued through my peers in the gay community. Despite trying my hardest to use the most “flattering” images of myself for my profiles, I would get unsolicited messages making fun of my body, some even telling me to go kill myself.

I eventually came to love and appreciate the queer part of myself, but not my body. This is where this “precarious relationship” comes from. Queer communities, particularly the cisgender gay male communities, claim to be welcoming and accepting, but when it comes to accepting fat and disabled bodies, they simply fall short.

After moving to New York City from the small city of Lancaster, Pennsylvania, I once again hoped for a welcoming queer community, but found the exclusionary attitudes remained. Out of frustration, I took a self-portrait—something I never did—with a phone with Grindr open on it haphazardly attached to my face. Turning the camera on myself felt aggressive. Making this photo felt like a scream. But it was powerful.  

A big part of that project has a humoristic side to it alongside the deeper issues and overall conversation. Personally, I find the humor to be a visual gate way that brings you in and invites you only to punch you later in the face once you read the context of the work. Can you explain the use of humor in your work?

 I think that’s a perfect way to describe it. Humor grabs attention. It’s easily noticeable. I think I learned to use humor as a coping mechanism after years of feeling invisible or rejected. There’s this trope that often pops up in movies and TV where the unattractive person has to be funny to “compensate” for their appearance. Or, something like the archetype of the “funny fat friend”—except I’m not going to just let it go after a quick witty joke. I’m using that quick witty joke as a trojan horse to carry something else.

How do you plan your portraits? What is usually the inspiration for taking a photo?

My portraits are very playful, spontaneous, and collaborative. When photographing myself, it’s usually on a whim inspired by a new environment or circumstance. When photographing others, we engage in a playful and collaborative process. I try to photograph them in a place where they are comfortable and familiar, and we just have fun with it. Sometimes I’ll have ideas ready, sometimes they’ll have ideas, but most often we just talk and come up with ideas together. Sometimes I’ll notice something odd or unusual in their home—it could be a specific object on a shelf or even an entire room decorated a specific way—and I’ll ask them to tell me about it. This, in turn, can lead us to making photographs with it.

You take many self-portraits, yet you also have outside individuals that you capture – when do you chose to point the camera on yourself vs. someone else?

I prefer to take photographs of others, but I’m also a very shy person with social anxiety and it can be a struggle to take photos of someone else, especially if I don’t know them. Sometimes I’ll photograph myself just out of convenience, but sometimes I photograph myself if it’s something that directly relates to me that I don’t want to project onto someone else.

Art is usually very personal; in your case it is a direct line to your life experience and your identity. Has making work about these subject matters help you? I think it’s important as your work can touch so many individuals who are facing similar if not the same challenges. What would you want your work to say to them?

I’ve actually always been resistant to work that is too personal. I feel that work that is too personal can be hard to relate to. Everyone has their own struggles, why should anyone care about mine? To some extent, I think that, in a similar way to how I use humor to convey a message with a deeper meaning, I embed the personal aspects of my work in more universal visuals. This is one reason I like to make images that are unusual, vague, or open to interpretation. I don’t want to provide any concrete narrative about myself or anyone.

I found that in a few of your Images you hide your face if it’s behind a corgi picture frame, a cell phone or yarn. Is this intentional? Can you maybe speak about this notion – if you feel comfortable doing so.

This interaction or obstruction of faces comes from the origin of this series—the self portraits I took out of frustration after moving to NYC. I took a series of self portraits that were all similarly framed headshots with a solid grey background. The only difference was different objects and materials applied to my face. I was struggling with my identity and sense of self and wanted to screw with it. It’s sort of like when you’re trying to write something and can’t get it right, so out of frustration you crumple up the paper and throw it away and start over. I wanted to do that with my face.

In your video Makeup Tutorial, you are facing the camera, in a very simple set up and with familiar mannerism of “Beauty Guru’s” you are mimicking the way they showcase makeup as they apply it, however you chose to use markers and paints and not traditional makeup. Can you tell us more about this choice? What made you create this work?

This piece also came from a frustration. I was frustrated with the expectations on queer men to assimilate into either hyper-femininity or hyper-masculinity, to either be masc or femme. I don’t really see myself as masc or femme, and I consider myself to be genderqueer, so where do I fit in?

I also find it really interesting how simple things can become a motif online, like the gestures a “beauty guru” makes in a makeup tutorial video. For some reason, a certain humor lies within calling attention to something so familiar yet so banal. I wanted to mimic these gestures and other recurring visuals in makeup tutorials, and by using children’s markers, I’m adding elements of ridiculousness and playfulness. In going with the theme of “Disidentifications,” I was also thinking about the repurposing or recycling of a material to manipulate my physical identity.

What has been some of the best advise / feedback / critique your received that you feel really pushed you forward and that stuck with you and your work?

One of the best pieces of advice I got was from a professor in my first studio course at Parsons. I was just trying to make work similar to what I was doing in undergrad, but I wasn’t feeling it. He sensed my apathy and said to me, “What’s something that matters to you?” I had immediately thought of my experiences in the gay communities of Lancaster, Pennsylvania and New York City. I was hesitant to make work about my experiences—I didn’t want it to be too personal or too preachy. But I think it was that push that helped me decide to make that first self-portrait.

You graduated from Parsons School of Design in 2020 (Congrats!). I can only assume that parts of it were online and remote. Can you tell us about the experience of graduating art school under such circumstances? Has it had any affect/impact on your work?

Thank you! It was definitely a struggle and made for an anticlimactic finish to grad school (In fact, I still haven’t had my thesis exhibition, but it’s hopefully happening this December). It was a mess. Everything was uncertain. We were all just doing our best and hoping for the best. Even though I’m sure we’re all tired of so much of our lives being online, I do think we all learned the utility and importance of digital spaces, which I hope continues on in the future.

In general, how has 2020 been for you? We all struggled in our own way but I think we all found something to hang onto – for better or for worst. Did your creative juices flow this year? Or was it a creative struggle? What helped you make art during this time?

As someone who already struggles with mental health, my mental health got even worse. I was also practically homeless for a few months after leaving a dangerous living situation and was sleeping on a friend’s couch. Up until then, my practice was heavily based on photographing others and even traveling to do so. While I did make some photos with the friend I was staying with, for most of the time I was my only available subject, and I didn’t want to be seen. However, I begrudgingly made some self-portraits whenever I could muster the motivation. If anything, it has increased my appreciation for getting to make work with others.

Who are some photographers/artists that have inspired you and your work? 

I really enjoy the work of Pixy Liao, Catherine Opie, Haley Morris-Cafiero, and Laura Aguilar. They’ve definitely influenced me and my work!

What do you think the hardest part of being an artist in today's art scene is? Where do you see photography move to in the next few years in your opinion 

I think the hardest part of being an artist today is making work that stands out but is still appealing. I feel that, photography specifically, has diverged somewhat. On one hand, you have artists sticking to traditional methods, such as taking simple portraits on a large format camera, and then on the other you have artists who are taking advantage of digital manipulation and forms of digital capture or found imagery that might not even require the use of a camera at all. I think both of these are a response to the increasing access to digital photography.

“Serious” photographers have to set themselves apart, either by utilizing a more “exclusive” process (such as a large format camera), or by totally messing with the digital image to create something more abstract or esoteric. It feels like finding a run-of-the-mill DSLR in the hands of someone who considers themselves a fine artist is becoming less and less frequent. Don’t get me wrong, though! I have nothing against any of these formats. I love large format photography and I love digital images/manipulation and everything in-between.

What advice would you have for other photographers who are reading this interview?

When making photographs, ask yourself, “Do I actually like this, or do I just like it because it’s something I’ve seen before?”  

Lastly – anything new you are working on? Any upcoming events or publications you are participating in that you would like to share? 

I recently had 7 pieces acquired by the Kiyosato Museum of Photographic Arts in Japan, which will be included in an exhibition of new acquisitions at the museum sometime in the spring. I also have some residencies coming up! I’ll be in residence at the Santa Fe Art Institute in Santa Fe, New Mexico from January to March, and then I’ll be in residence at the Bunnell Street Arts Center in Homer, Alaska for the month of April. I also have a two-week residency in France coming up later in 2022. I have a bunch of projects that have been on the back-burner that I’m looking forward to working on during these residencies.

I currently have a photo in the Curated Fridge autumn exhibition as well as a photo in your “New Seeds” online exhibition. I also have some work in the upcoming MFA Photography Reviews “Homecoming 2021” exhibition at JKC Gallery in Trenton, NJ which will be open from December 8th to January 29th with a reception on December 11th.