I love museums and have loved going to them ever since I was a child. Growing up in Indianapolis, it blew my mind that there was a children’s museum just for kids my age. When I was a teenager, my friends and I made a three-hour trek to see a traveling Monet exhibition at the Art Institute of Chicago. A sucker for museum gift shops, I still think about a treasured magnet of Monet’s Peaches (1883) that was on my refrigerator for years. Experiencing an exhibition on tour with my friends and throngs of visitors was special — a fleeting collective moment that made an indelible memory.
I love museums, but do they love me back? I had never seen an exhibition explicitly featuring disabled artists until this year, when the Oakland Museum of California (OMCA) presented Into the Brightness: Artists from Creativity Explored, Creative Growth & NIAD and Creative Growth: The House that Art Built opened at SFMOMA. Acquisitions and exhibitions are significant, but there are other ways a museum can help a community feel like they belong. When exhibiting work by various artists, curators often erase disability in artists’ biographies and neglect to discuss how the experience of being disabled, whether or not the artist identifies as disabled, influenced their work. Many institutions continue to face reckonings about the racism, anti-Blackness, and sexism within their organizations and externally, in terms of how they contextualize their collections to the public. Just as disability may be erased from an artist’s identity at a museum, initiatives and commitments to diversity, equity, and inclusion often leave out accessibility, but that’s a story for another day.
The naming and visibility of disability is something I think about all the time in my work as a writer and activist. When I noticed the post about SFMOMA’s Pet Portrait Day last year, it sparked an idea to partner with the museum. In several conversations with museum staff, I proposed Disability Portraits Day, a special event specifically for the Bay Area disability community to celebrate the 34th anniversary of the Americans with Disabilities Act. The day offered the chance for participants to sit for a portrait taken by disabled photographer Mia Charnelle, pose at a selfie booth for more fun photos, free admission to the museum, and a digital and print copy of their portrait mailed several weeks after.
This event was a collaboration between the museum, the Longmore Institute on Disability, the San Francisco Disability Cultural Center, and the Disability Visibility Project. We worked together planning logistics, accessibility, and outreach. Because we are still in a pandemic, the event took place outside in the corridor by the Roberts Family Gallery. Masks were required and ASL interpreters were available onsite. Chairs and couches allowed people to relax and snacks were available to keep them comfortable while they waited for their turn. I hope this will become the first of many events SFMOMA offers to the disability community that is grounded and informed by us, for us.
A Selection of Photos from Disability Portrait Day
Several years ago, I sat virtually for a portrait by disabled artist Riva Lehrer, which is now in the Smithsonian’s National Portrait Gallery. It is rare for a portrait created by a disabled person featuring a disabled person to be displayed in a museum. The interactions and dynamics are unique, and I consider disabled portraiture to be a form of resistance. In an interview with Riva about being looked at through an ableist lens and the relationship between an artist and their subject, she said, “When I started working with disabled bodies that weren’t just mine, it was really important to me to give people autonomy. Because I knew that being looked at, for a lot of us, is complex and often pretty painful and demeaning . . . it was super important to me not to replicate that . . . [It] took a long time of trying to be a better listener . . . And so, I’ve tried various ethical structures to give people as much power as possible.” For so many of us, there is a hunger to be seen in a way that does not objectify or fetishize us. Creating space where that can happen is an opportunity for museums to express their commitment to disability culture.
I wasn’t sure what the turnout would be on Disability Portrait Day — it was like hosting a party not knowing if guests would show up. Thanks to the publicity efforts of each organization, it was a success. Seeing people connecting, laughing, taking selfies, and just being together touched me deeply. Participant Jesenia M. commented, “In the age of Covid denialism, we the disabled and immune-compromised have been relegated to isolation and removal from daily life. Alice Wong’s portrait day was not only fighting back by capturing us as we are but helped produce a space that is Covid-conscious and accessible . . . It was empowering and inspiring to be invited to share in this resistance and joy!” Dagny Brown and Mika Kie Weissbuch, co-directors of the San Francisco Disability Cultural Center, observed, “Disability Portrait Day was radical and liberatory. It reminded us that we are here, we have always been here, and we will always be here and be beautiful. We heard how special it was to see the museum and other disabled community members feel a sense of disability pride together. We hope this becomes a beloved annual tradition!”
“When so many people are told to hide their disabilities or pressured to mask as neurotypical for photos, we saw participants posing in ways that highlighted hearing aids or mobility devices on their terms with confidence and pride.”
From an idea to an event supported by SFMOMA, organizations, and numerous volunteers, Disability Portrait Day is an example of collaborations centered on thoughtful exchanges, consensus building, and a shared vision. While there were areas for improvement if we are to repeat the event next July, the feedback from participants was uniformly positive. “When so many people are told to hide their disabilities or pressured to mask as neurotypical for photos, we saw participants posing in ways that highlighted hearing aids or mobility devices on their terms with confidence and pride,” said Emily Beitiks, Longmore Institute on Disability interim director and San Francisco Disability Cultural Center co-director. “I chatted with participants all day who shared that they’d never before had an experience like this, and having a disabled photographer, Mia Charnelle, was crucial to the day’s success. To see SFMOMA willing to not just discuss compliance with us, but go the extra distance thinking about how to make our community feel like they belonged was an important step to building a stronger relationship between the museum and the disability community.”
We worked together organizing an event that was as inclusive, accessible, and celebratory as possible. Each partner offered unique strengths and skills and the combined result produced a fleeting collective moment that made indelible memories for many. These moments matter, and hopefully they will become part of a larger ongoing series at the museum filled with joy, love, and care.
