“You can’t be what you can’t see,” is a famous quote from Dr. Sally Ride (1951-2012), the first American woman in space. It sums up the importance of representation and visibility, highlighting how it is crucial for young people, especially those from underrepresented communities, to have role models to whom they can relate. It’s also a neat introduction to Mackenzie Calle’s The Gay Space Agency (GSA), a groundbreaking work of docu-fiction which is inspired largely by Ride. It confronts the past, present and future of the American space programme, and has been recognised internationally by prestigious awards including World Press Photo 2024, Sony World Photography Awards and the Aesthetica Art Prize.
Calle looks at the historical exclusion of openly queer astronauts from NASA and how, whilst three have come out after going into space, the agency has still never selected or flown an openly LGBTQ+ astronaut. Moreover, she imagines a possible future where LGBTQ+ individuals form their own fictional space agency, the GSA, offering a counter-narrative to the story thus far. Here, the Brooklyn-based photographer and visual storyteller speaks in-depth about the project, explaining what it was like to navigate the NASA archives, how the series came to life – and truths uncovered along the way.
A: Where did the idea for this project initially come from?
MC: The Gay Space Agency really began with Dr. Sally Ride, the first female American astronaut. I have always looked up to her. She spent so much of her life advocating for women in the STEM fields. I read an article that mentioned she had a female partner of 27 years, Dr. Tam O’Shaughnessy. Not only that, but Ride came out in her obituary. I have always been interested in science, especially space, so this kicked off extensive research into the history of LGBTQ+ astronauts. Fortunately, the NASA image archive is in the public domain. I began editing its pictures to speak to the exclusion of the queer community from the Astronaut Corps. A couple of months later, I came across the nonprofit STEM outreach programme Out Astronaut and, through them, I photographed aspiring LGBTQ+ astronaut Brian Murphy during their initial training sessions. That was when the series really came to life.
A: What are some of the most surprising or confronting truths you learned whilst researching the subject matter?
MC: Discovering that NASA has still never selected or flown an openly LGBTQ+ astronaut, and uncovering the systematic exclusion over the last six decades. Most people have no idea; I didn’t until three years ago! During my research, I found an article by Francis French that mentioned early astronauts taking a heterosexuality test, via the Rorschach inkblots, in which they were expected to see feminine anatomy. Delving further into NASA’s astronaut selection criteria, I found that heterosexuality was also ranked on a second psychological test, the Edwards Personal Preference Schedule. In 1994, former flight surgeon and psychiatrist Dr. Patricia Santy recounted in her book that NASA insisted homosexuality be a disqualifying characteristic for astronauts. Even as recently as 2022, a study found that Space Shuttle astronauts were hesitant to come out because it could impact their chance of being put on a flight. I have spoken to many queer people working in space science and a significant number are cautious about coming out. The LGBTQ+ community often has to make a choice between the personal and the professional.
A: You’ve engaged with NASA in several bodies of work– from the life of Sally Ride to following astronauts in training. Where does your interest in space come from?
MC: I’ve been fascinated by the stars since I was a kid. My great-grandfather built a log cabin in the Eastern Sierras and we would visit it every summer. Nearby is the most alien-like place called Mono Lake. Surrounded by towering tufa formations that look like stalagmites, we would lie on the shores after dark and look up at the almost 180° night sky. The Milky Way was fully visible to the naked eye. Space is the ultimate realm of unanswered questions, and, in the absence of an answer, it offers endless possibilities. I would lie there and become more curious about the universe. It has truly captured my imagination. And yet, for the queer community, space remains a barrier that we have not yet openly crossed.
A: You use various techniques: portraiture, still life, text, collage and long exposure. What are the benefits of this?
MC: This project is not overtly visual. It was a history that I was fascinated by but had no means to photograph. Once I began working with the NASA archive, I found that manipulating the images was the most effective way to speak to the past. Photographing Out Astronaut brought the narrative into to the present, but I still didn’t feel like it told the entire story. I began experimenting with layering, manipulation and incorporating text. This was the most effective way to visually narrate this history and echo the feel of an archive whilst keeping it contemporary. It also emphasised the fun and child-like wonder of space, which I wanted to maintain.
A: There must have been a lot of material to sift through. How did you go about selecting what to include in here?
MC: It was hard. The NASA image archive has over 200,000 images and more are always being added. On top of that, their website used to time out incredibly quickly – so this work was even more tedious. The document repository has been the most difficult to navigate. There are no resources with titles like “Queer Astronaut”, so it has required extensive investigation. I have spent hundreds of hours researching and reading online, trying to find inaccessible books, trawling through eBay and Etsy for materials, reaching out to people involved in astronaut selection and speaking to LGBTQ+ individuals in space science. Sometimes I would get lucky; one document would open up a whole new avenue for enquiry. For example, I searched almost all the references in the Astronaut Candidate Evaluation bibliography. I then found another that mentioned several flight surgeons. I looked up every one of them for anything that could be relevant. That’s where I found Santy, the psychiatrist and NASA flight surgeon, who published a book in 1994. Luckily my partner is a student and could access it through her library. About halfway through I found a single mention of the queer community. It explained how NASA had, in the past, insisted homosexuality be a disqualifying condition for astronauts. So even the smallest bits of information were breakthroughs.
A: You’ve been recognised by World Press Photo and Sony World Photography Awards 2024. How does it feel?
MC: Completely surreal. I never imagined this level of recognition. I have looked up to the winners of both for so long, and to be among them gives me a bit of imposter syndrome. I am still pinching myself. So much of this history has never been studied or shared before, and it is meaningful to see the project take flight and reach wider audiences in this way.
A: How do you see the series developing into the future?
MC: I want to do more research and find more archival materials to share with people – especially students. I’m keen to create images that speak to the home lives of the fictional astronauts within The Gay Space Agency. In so doing, I’ll uncover the signifiers and stereotypes of the American family from the 1950s and 1960s, when the astronaut programme began. My ultimate hope is to publish a photobook that includes both staged photographs and historic documentation.
A: In an era of misinformation, how can artists balance the line between telling stories and portraying the facts?
MC: It’s vital to make it clear to an audience what they are looking at – whether it is fact or fiction. Images are more visible than ever, and one iota of misinformation can take on a life of its own. I experimented with how far I could blur the line, and, strangely, the truth often seemed stranger than the fiction. The reality was perceived as something I created, so it became clear that I needed to have a division between the history as it happened – being told this time from the perspective of the queer community – and the imagined Gay Space Agency. There is so much creative possibility between the real and the artificial, but we must be transparent about the nature of how the content was created in the first place.
A: The definition of “documentary” is constantly evolving. Where do you find yourself in relation to the genre?
MC: Before this project, I was a documentary photographer in the traditional sense. But, by necessity of the subject matter, The Gay Space Agency shifted my understanding of the medium. This wasn’t a story that could be told in a conventional manner and still encompass the entirety of the material. The only way to fill in the archival gaps was to recreate based on available information and then imagine our future. Countering this history requires non-traditional methods. However, I’ve found that the fictional images can feel the most true-to-life, even if they’re not historically accurate.
A: Who are the photographers that inspire you most? Is there anyone on your radar today that you look up to?
MC: I always come back to Lee Miller and Cristina de Middel. Both of these artists worked in the traditional documentary world but also explored the creative limits of storytelling and imagination. I’ve also been looking at Buck Ellison, Edgar Martins, Max Pinckers and Jonas Bendiksen a lot recently, especially how they navigate truth and fiction. I have always been drawn to the 20th century surrealist movement, so I am fascinated by art from Man Ray, René Magritte and Kay Sage.
A: What’s next for you? Any big plans for 2024 – 2025?
MC: There is still so much work to be done on The Gay Space Agency, and I’m currently working to raise more funding to finish the project and publish a photobook. I also have a couple of other projects currently underway; there’s some more space science, a foray into athletes and a queer project I am working on with my incredible partner, who is a writer.
World Press Photo 2024 | De Nieuwe Kerk, Amsterdam | Until 14 July
Words: Eleanor Sutherland
Image credits:
1.&5.The Gay Space Agency, © Mackenzie Calle. Project funded with support from the Magnum Foundation Counter Histories Grant.
2. The Gay Space Agency, © Mackenzie Calle. Project funded with support from the Magnum Foundation Counter Histories Grant.
3. The Gay Space Agency, © Mackenzie Calle. Project funded with support from the Magnum Foundation Counter Histories Grant.
4.The Gay Space Agency, © Mackenzie Calle. Project funded with support from the Magnum Foundation Counter Histories Grant.
6. The Gay Space Agency, © Mackenzie Calle. Project funded with support from the Magnum Foundation Counter Histories Grant.
The post Truths Unearthed appeared first on Aesthetica Magazine.
