Photography by Heather Glazzard and Nora Nord.
Over in the British capital, creative couples have become the cultural fascination du jour, exemplified by last year’s Modern Couples exhibition at the Barbican and large-scale retrospectives of Dora Maar and Lee Krasner’s work. Yet, what’s the reasoning behind our (often voyeuristic) interest in artist-lover partnerships? Examining the work of these artist-partners—and especially art works made collaboratively—provides plentiful parallels to our own relationships. The microcosms of intimacy we create with a lover are themselves an act of creative collaboration, where we mould a space for ourselves away from social scripts or expectations. This act of world-building is particularly important for marginalised couples, such as those who are queer or POC. In times of renewed hostility towards marginalised groups, partners can find sanctuary in one another’s bodies.
Nora Nord and Heather Glazzard’s joint photo series and zine Porridge XXX gives unfiltered access to this sanctuary—the heart of their relationship. Pushing the established language of intimacy, the beautiful rubs shoulders with the bizarre in over 60 portraits. In a mélange of different moods and styles, tender analogue moments sit alongside playful images of egg cartons repurposed as accessories and blow-up sex dolls. There’s a sense of fun as the two artists play with different gender roles—donning coquettish dresses one minute and ‘masculine’, oversized tailoring the next—in a manner that often recalls the work of surrealist photographer couple, Claude Cahun and Marcel Moore.
In a bold and brave move, Nord and Glazzard transformed their shared East London home into a make-shift gallery for Porridge XXX last weekend. According to Nord, it was not a decision they took lightly. “We’ve both admitted to each other that we sometimes imagine someone attacking us when we show affection in public,” she admits. “That’s why so much of this series is set in our domestic space; it’s safe. With this exhibition, it’s like we’re inviting a tiny part of that outside in. It’s scary but important.” Glazzard seconds Nord, noting that they’ve been anxious in the build up to the exhibition. “For weeks, I’ve been sh*tting myself,” they say. “But I think it’s important for me to stop complaining about there being a lack of queer relationships documented in contemporary art and actually just decide to fill the space with it.”
The idea of filling up space here feels particularly prescient, and is underscored through the use of analogue photography. For Nord, film is a unique medium that has been able to make their interior world tangible. “So much has changed for me over this past year and my photography practice has been moulded alongside me,” she says “I shoot analogue because it’s alive—you can touch it and see your fingerprints show up when you scan the negatives. I always marvel at how film, which looks like brown pieces of plastic, can create images that contain worlds and can fill entire walls.”
All too often, queer representation can feel stereotypical and tokenistic, making it hard to occupy or claim for many members of the community. There are still few perimeters for queer exploration in a society that holds up cis and heterosexual as the norm. Nord and Glazzard’s photographs, however, create a space for queerness that’s wide-open and in flux, illuminated with a child-like spirit. This sense of play is a natural facet of the couple’s relationship—“we just let our inner child out together,” explains Heather—but this humour destabilises the status quo, encouraging the spectator to reconsider their fixed ideas of relationships and gender.
There’s also a sensuality to many of the images, particularly those lensed in the couple’s bedroom. Queer women like Nord are often harassed by a voyeuristic male entitlement, which expects their sexuality to mimic the watered-down fantasies they see in pornography. For non-binary Glazzard, navigating their sexuality was initially made difficult by society’s inability to see sex and relationships without cis-men as valid. “Up until a few years ago people would constantly be asking me about my sex life: ‘what do you do?’ or ‘why use a dildo, when you could have a dick?’” Glazzard explains. “I mean when you’re bombarded with questions like this all the time from random cis men, there can be a sense of shame attached to talking about sex.”
It can be hard to talk about non-binary and queer female sexuality without receiving invasive questions and lurid comments, leading to a notable lack of authentic depictions. Yet, the images from Nord and Glazzard feel honest, raw and a million miles from what prying cis-heterosexual eyes might expect. While frequently naked or in states of semi-undress, these bodies aren’t sucked-in and primed for the flash. Instead, they exist peacefully and innocently, bringing into sharp focus the differences between nakedness and ‘the nude’, which come up a lot in conversations around art history and the body.
Whilst understanding of non-binary identities are slowly improving, it’s still rare to see representation of gender diverse bodies. Porridge XXX provides a look at Glazzard’s unfettered experience, lensed by someone they love within a safe, domestic setting and away from constrictive queer-phobic norms. The way that they hold themselves and move in front of the camera is striking, testifying to a queer physicality that transcends binary definitions of gender. For Nord, however, this presentation of gender is beautifully mundane. “I’ve just photographed Heather how I see them,” they say. “If that challenges ideas of gender, or relationships, then that’s a sign we need more representation and variety of stories in the media. And we do.”
See more from the series below:
You can purchase a copy of the Porridge XXX zine here.
All photography courtesy of Heather Glazzard and Nora Nord.