Jesse Egner

BIO

Jesse Egner is an artist 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. His work has recently been included in exhibitions at 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. He received his BA from Millersville University of Pennsylvania and his MFA in Photography at Parsons School of Design. Egner currently works for artist Mariette Pathy Allen and is an adjunct professor of photography at Millersville University.

STATEMENT

“Disidentifications” is a series of absurd, unusual, and playful portraits of queer individuals meant to evoke the uncanny, humor, and curiosity. Inspired by the theory of disidentification as described by queer theorist José Muñoz, this series examines the liminality of disidentities that neither identify or counter-identify with a dominant ideology. As a gay man with a non-normative body and an invisible disability, I have experienced constant rejection from members of my fellow gay community, forcing me into a precarious relationship with myself. The playful and performative acts and symbols in these photographs reflect this relationship, while the fragmented narratives and uncertainty that exist in a space between reality and fantasy reflect the liminal space of queer identity.

Interview with Jesse Egner

Written by Andreana Donahue

Can you tell us a bit about your background and how you became interested in becoming an artist? What were some early influences?

I started undergrad as a Sociology major, but I quickly realized sociology wasn’t the best fit for me. I ended up taking an introductory photography course as an elective and was instantly captivated. After taking a few more photography courses, I decided to pursue a major in art, focusing on photography.

I carried my interest in sociology into my photography work through an interest in conceptual and typological portraiture, but it wasn’t until graduate school that I also brought my interest in queer theory to my photography work as well.

Where are you currently based and what initially attracted you to working in this community? Are there any aspects of this specific place that have surfaced in your work?

I’m currently based in Brooklyn, New York. I originally moved here three years ago to attend the MFA Photography program at Parsons, which I completed in August 2020. Interestingly enough, it was my move from the small city of Lancaster, Pennsylvania—which is tucked away in the middle of Amish country—to New York City that inspired my move into queer photography.

Moving to New York City, I felt like I was led to believe I was entering a queer utopia—that I would find a large group of queer friends, easily find men to date, fall in love… and that the issues I had faced in Lancaster—such as not feeling like I belonged even in queer spaces— would become a thing of the past. However, this was not the case. I found that issues I faced were present here in full force, which frustrated me extensively.

Can you tell us about your studio space? What are some of the most crucial aspects of a studio that make it workable for you?

While I have experimented a bit with video, performance, and installation work, I am first and foremost a photographer. Not only that, but I most often shoot out in the world rather than in a studio. Therefore, if I am shooting digitally, my “studio space” is wherever I am with my camera or computer.

The most crucial aspect of a studio to make it workable for me is an interesting or stimulating atmosphere. It needs to be alive. It is that reason I’m thankful I can work in different locations quite easily. My place in Brooklyn has rooftop access with a beautiful view of the Manhattan skyline. I find myself spending time up there shooting, editing, reading… In fact, I am on my roof right now, surrounded by the dynamic energy of the city. I get bored too easily if I’m trapped in an unchanging environment.

What is a typical day like?

Currently, I work for artist Mariette Pathy Allen, so I’m in her studio a few days a week. Working with her archive that consists of over 40 years of photographs in queer communities is quite inspiring, I must say.

I wish I could say my other days are the romanticized version of being an artist, making art, reading, seeing exhibitions… While that does occur on occasion, of course, most of my time is spent doing the banal work of being an artist, such as submitting to shows and grants, applying to adjunct positions, reading and responding to emails—especially being a recent MFA graduate. As many artists would agree, the boring administrative work of being an artist is a full time job all on it’s own.

What gets you in a creative groove? What puts a damper on your groove?

Reading and writing. Overthinking and obsessing.

What criteria do you follow for selecting materials? Do you prefer to maintain a narrow focus or work across diverse media? How do you navigate the limitations and possibilities that result from this path?

I’m drawn to photography because of its indexicality, it’s connection to real life. Part of me thinks that may originate in my own lack of confidence or authority to entirely fabricate an image from nothing, like I don’t trust myself or my validity. Instead, I’d rather create photographs that are quotations from reality.

Can you walk us through your overall process? How would you describe your approach to manipulating materials? What about decision-making and editing?

My process is very playful and collaborative. I like my shoots to be spontaneous and engage with the person or people I am photographing. I find the spontaneity and playfulness lends itself well to not only queerness, but also the absurd, uncanny, and humorous nature I like to have present in my work. I like to compare it to the process of free association or free writing, and I find it’s somewhere between staged and candid.

When it comes to my editing/selection process of the photos I have shot, sometimes it’s gut instinct. I will see a photograph and I know I need to include it in the series I am working on. Sometimes, however, I need to let a photograph sit for a while—sometimes months or even longer—and let it ruminate.

I also think an important part of the editing process is critique. I always try to get others’ eyes on my work to get responses and feedback. This is so imperative to me… Sometimes I wonder if it’s connected to my issues with self-esteem and feeling validated in my own choices… But that’s a discussion for another day.

Can you talk about some of the ongoing interests, imagery, and concepts that have informed your process and body of work over time? How do you anticipate your work progressing in the future?

For the past few years, I’ve been really interested in weird imagery that exists between reality and fantasy—imagery that asks more questions than it answers, as tacky as that may sound. I don’t want my work to simply be social documentation showing the stories of the queer individuals I am photographing. I’m particularly interested in imagery and concepts that relate to issues that make me feel disconnected from queer communities, such as body image issues, disability or mental illness.

To be honest, I’m not quite sure how my work will progress. I don’t want to make my strict plans for my work that could potentially act as blinders keeping me from stumbling upon something else. I want to wander and let myself be led astray and see what happens.

Do you pursue any collaborations, projects, or careers in addition to your studio practice? If so, can you tell us more about those projects, and are there connections between your studio practice and these endeavors?

This last spring, I had the opportunity to teach an introduction to darkroom photography course at Millersville University. Interestingly, it was the very same course at the very same school that I took as an elective in undergrad which sparked my interest in photography. I’m currently searching for more adjunct positions for the future.

Additionally, I mentioned I currently work for artist Mariette Pathy Allen, who is known for photographing in the trans community for over 40 years. Working for her definitely connects to my own studio practice. I find it incredibly fascinating to see the transformation of queer communities through the years, leading up to the contemporary period in which I’m also currently making work. It helps me understand the history and context of queer photography which, of course, can be brought back into my own work. While looking through her archive, I often find myself filled with awe and inspiration.

As a result of the pandemic, many artists have experienced limited access to their studios or loss of exhibitions, income, or other opportunities. Has your way of working (or not working) shifted significantly during this time? Are there unexpected insights or particular challenges you’ve experienced?

I was still in grad school when the pandemic hit, and had the, shall we say, interesting opportunity of completing and defending my thesis in a virtual format. Up until the pandemic, I was traveling and photographing others. I actually wanted to begin photographing myself with others, to connect my self-portrait work to my portraits of others. Of course, that was not possible once COVID hit. As with many other photographers, I ended up photographing just myself and the few people I was able to see.

I am thankful for the work I made in quarantine as it would not have been made otherwise. I do wish, however, I was able to make more work, but, as with countless others, I struggled with my mental health as well as other day-to-day issues that made creating art an arduous task.

In a time that seems to be marked by uncertainty, collective anxiety, and increasing social unrest, why do you think the perspectives and contributions of artists remain meaningful? Do you feel a natural relationship exists between your work (or the role artists play more broadly) and confronting established systems—of power, cultural institutions, or otherwise?

Truthfully, as a neurodiverse person, I’ve always been surrounded by uncertainty, anxiety, and unrest. While I’m not trying to stand on a soap box with my work, as it is not meant to be acute social activism, I do see it contribute to existing confrontations, or at the very least, provide a counter-narrative.

Can you share some of your recent influences? Are there specific works—from visual art, literature, film, or music—that are important to you?

I’m currently reading a recently published book called Fat and Queer, an anthology of poems, short stories, and other texts that explore the intersection of gender and sexuality with fatness. I am finding it incredibly inspirational and I am certain it will become a big influence on my upcoming work. I was already beginning to create work about this intersection inspired by my own feelings of being excluded from queer communities based on my body. This is only solidifying this interest and providing more context for me to work with.

Who are some contemporary artists you’re excited about? What are the best exhibitions you’ve seen in recent memory?

Just yesterday I went to the New Museum. I was struck most by the work of Lynn Hershman Leeson, particularly her Electronic Diaries. I was immediately, almost instinctively, captivated by the aesthetic and the sound. The videos I saw first were the older ones, filmed on an old magnetic tape camcorder. The 480i analog video, as well as the hairstyle that my mother wore when I was a child, filled me with the bitter yet alluring sting of nostalgia. After this initial attraction, it was her voice I noticed next. It was a very intimate version of ASMR. In this particular moment of this video, she was detailing the sensual experiences of eating cookies (“morsels of caloric excess”) that replaced her sexual ones. She was connecting her weight gain—and in turn, fatness—to sexuality.

Do you have any tips or advice that someone has shared with you that you have found particularly helpful?

“Stop.”

What are you working on in the studio right now? What’s coming up next for you?

For a while now, I’ve been considering creating more video work similar to my “Makeup Tutorial” video. The virtual space has been incredibly activated over the last year so I’d love to make more work that utilizes, references to, and exists in that space.

To find out more about Jesse Egner check out their Instagram and website.