How a New Generation of Artists Tackles the Realities of HIV/AIDS

In 1987, the newly-formed ACT UP was invited to create an installation in the window of the New Museum in downtown Manhattan. Their response, entitled Let The Record Show..., consisted of six cardboard silhouettes depicting public figures (including President Ronald Reagan) set against a photograph of the Nuremberg trials. Above their heads hovered the now iconic SILENCE = DEATH logo and its corresponding pink triangle in the form of a neon sign. This became one of many emblematic artistic responses to the early AIDS era, alongside the controversial AIDS logo series by Canadian collective General Idea (appropriating Robert Indiana’s ‘LOVE’); the pop, safe-sex campaigns by Keith Haring; or the interactive, slowly disappearing pile of candy by Cuban-born artist Felix Gonzalez-Torres, which symbolized the loss of his lover.

With the 1996 arrival of “the cocktail,” a combination of at least three antiretroviral drugs that suppress HIV replication, the HIV/AIDS-related death toll plummeted in the United States — and with it, public interest in the virus. Yet, HIV continues to be a major public health issue, with an estimated 36.7 million people living with the virus globally, and only a fraction having access to the treatments, information, and support they need. What does it mean for a younger generation of artists to address HIV/AIDS today, and which imperatives are guiding their discourse?

“I think with the political climate right now, things are shifting,” artist Kia LaBeija tells me over the phone in an interview for them. The 28-year-old performer, activist, and New York ballroom queen rose to prominence as a visual artist with her photographic series “24”, a collection of cinematic self-portraits that re-visit her personal experiences as a young Black woman with HIV. “A lot of voices are being raised; it’s incredibly powerful. I’m excited to be part of that,” continues LaBeija, who recently opened her first solo exhibition at Royale Projects in Los Angeles.

In 2015, LaBeija was one of only four artists of color out of over 100 artists featured in the original iteration of Art AIDS America at the Tacoma Art Museum. The touring exhibition claimed that it set out to “explore the whole spectrum of artistic responses to AIDS.” Needless to say, the show's lack of racial diversity raised some eyebrows, given that African Americans continue to be disproportionately affected by HIV. In response, the activist group Tacoma Action Collective staged a series of die-in protests to call attention to the lack of Black representation, which led to a slight readjustment of the roster of artists as the exhibit traveled to other venues.

At the 2017 Frieze Art Fair in London, the spontaneous collective SPIT! (Sodomites, Perverts, Inverts Together!) staged a series of interventions, accompanied by a brilliant selection of historical and contemporary texts, highlighting some of the defining debates in queer politics from the past decades. The featured PrEP Manifesto navigates the ethics of HIV prevention today, from pharmaceutical greed to the anxiety of death and the criminalization of HIV-status non-disclosure — pointing to the moral and sometimes generational divide brought about by the popularity of PrEP.

The notion of intergenerational dialogue takes a more poetic form in the work of Salvadoran-American multimedia artist Jonathan Molina-Garcia. After he tested HIV-positive in 2013, the now 28-year-old artist moved to Los Angeles and spent two years documenting his romantic relationships with a number of older, HIV-positive men he’d met on a cruising website. The resulting multimedia-project, BETHESDA, features a video in which Molina-Garcia is seen practicing needlepoint with his older lover Allan, as they sit naked on a bed. Through their interaction, Allan’s skill at the craft contrasts with the artist’s cluelessness, which becomes the cause of some friction between the two. The colorful patchwork, carefully attended to by both men, nods to a legacy of “craftivism” and the AIDS Memorial Quilt. The embroidery evokes a process of exchange, and it becomes unclear whether the subject of their collaboration is the needlepoint, or queer histories.

In the Global South, where stigma, corruption, and the lack of resources too often get in the way of effective prevention and treatment strategies, artists dealing with HIV/AIDS are faced with a distinct set of issues. In the province of KwaZulu-Natal in South Africa, where 12.2% of the adult population lives with HIV/AIDS, sculptor Sfiso Mvelase has been using his ceramic works to raise awareness about the virus since 2003. “Some saw it as a disgusting thing to make or talk about,” explains the 38-year-old artist, reflecting on his outlandish vases and plates, which depict the ravage caused by the disease in rural areas. “But for others, it helped [them realize] that death could be avoided, rather than relying on myths.” His work has since been shown internationally, including last year’s Istanbul Biennale and Art Basel Miami.

Meanwhile, in Mexico City, the artist Manuel Solano has made a name for themself with their confessional paintings infused with queer and pop-culture references. Following HIV-related complications, Solano lost their eyesight in 2014 at the age of 26, largely due to medical negligence. “The impression I had is that I was left for dead,” the artist recounted when I visited their studio in the suburbs of the Mexican capital. While universal access to antiretroviral therapy has been available in the country since 2003, discrimination and corruption remain obstacles to the implementation of HIV policies. This often leaves patients on hold for treatment, and in the case of Solano, clearly for far too long. Since going blind, Solano has had to boldly reinvent their creative process, most recently by using a system of pins and strings to help them navigate their canvas. Some of their recent works are currently on show at the New Museum Triennial in New York.

The AIDS crisis changed the art world, taking many artists far too early but also generating some of the most moving and politically impactful works in recent history. Today, the work of younger artists is crucial in bringing forth the multi-faceted realities of HIV/AIDS and the marginalized communities most affected by it. While access to treatment and prevention has become more widely available for some, the crisis is still far from over.

Benoît Loiseau is an Art & Design writer based between London and Mexico City. His work appears in Frieze, i-D, Hello Mr, and Lenny Letter, amongst others. His series of short stories, We Can’t Make You Younger (2017) is illustrated by Manuel Solano and available via Antenne Books.