Exhibition Review: Concealed/Reveal- Disabled, D/deaf, and neurodivergent artists driving creativity

By Anika Sharma, Second-Year History

The Concealed/Reveal exhibition at the Bristol Museum aimed to entice viewers from the start whereby paintings by Goya and Hockney were introduced, alongside a description of how their paintings contributed to society’s understanding of disabilities in everyday life.

Upon entering this exhibition, I expected there to be a representation of how disabled artists are viewed and perceived. But it provided more. It offered an insight into how one might celebrate disabilities rather than view them as a barrier. These artists were compelled to create art that was unique and original. As Hockney stated, ‘When one sense changes, others adapt’; an idea applied throughout the whole exhibition.

While viewers might find it hard not to sympathise with artists who were facing horrific accidents or illnesses, it is refreshing to see that these stories were not intended for disabled people to be pitied. Impaired people are not meant to be treated as separate from society, but rather celebrated for their differences and the contributions they make as a result of this difference.

Whilst saying this, the exhibition did not fail to show the somewhat negative attitudes displayed. Francisco Goya’s ‘No te Escapares’ (You will not escape) (1797) depicts a fearful scene whereby the shading highlights the lack of agency the group has as opposed to the two figures holding weaponry. Goya’s more pessimistic tone took heed after he was found to be permanently deaf from his severe illness. In this way Goya shifted his outlook on the brutalities of the war towards a more blunt and real perspective.

In this painting it seems death is inevitable perhaps due to Goya feeling isolated, which is understandable as sign language had not been established at this point. Whilst this initially can be interpreted as alarming, it can also be seen as brutally honest, confronting the horrors of the war, perhaps only achieved because of his disability.

Further down the hall, the inspirational Bartram Hiles, in his depiction of ‘Castle Combe’ (1912) highlights his perseverance in painting despite losing both his arms in a tram accident. The intricate details, such as the reflection of the bridge on the water, makes this painting even more impressive as it was produced in a somewhat non-conventional way.

Bartram Hiles (1872-1927), ‘Castle Combe’ (1912)

The exhibition’s successful engagement in including art that was not only hung on a wall added to the diversity of artists revealed in this room. The inclusion of crafts piqued my interest as it is not common to see crafting take such importance in the history of art. The basket-weaving particularly highlighted detail and precision, which was not lacking in these artists.

Unfortunately, modern-day fashion has yet to fully integrate disabled people into everyday clothing, despite this being a known issue for the past 300 years. The exhibition showcased this exact problem with a positive twist, by contrasting the shoes of Joseph Boruwlaski (1739-1837) and Patrick Cotter O’Brien (1760-1806). While both shoes show an enormous size difference, which can be humorous at first glance, this demonstrates the way in which sizes of bodies differ considerably, and without any control. It urges viewers to think differently as to how one should see disabled people as ‘other’ when people of varying sizes and shapes are capable of living together.

By the end of the exhibition, as I walked down the end of the hall, I was faced with a large screen showing a BSL interpreter describing one of the paintings, making it more inclusive for its viewers.

While this exhibition aims to shine a light on the way disabled artists are concealed from museums and galleries, it is important to clarify that the exhibition in itself is not supposed to separate the artist from their human experiences or characterise these artists by their disability. Perhaps this clarification is acknowledging that the exhibition is physically separated from the rest of the museum but with the intention of reducing the stigma of artists with disabilities.

Overall, this exhibition has provided a new-found appreciation for artists who thought their disability hindered them in producing art, when it should have been celebrated, and seen less as a ‘taboo’ or ‘insult’, as the exhibition mentions. My terminology on this topic has expanded, as well as my understanding of well-renowned artists, such as Henri Matisse and Francisco Goya, whose contextual backgrounds had not mentioned their disability or impairment.

When looking at the purpose of exhibitions like Concealed/Reveal, the producer, Curating for Change, as well as similar organisations have created an environment whereby disabilities can be celebrated and discussed in conversation. The history of art is slowly moving away from seeing disabilities and impairments as an offensive term and more as a differing, refreshing perspective on art. After all, don’t our differences shape the way all art is created?