Surrounded by Queer Elders: A conversation with artist Salgu Wissmath about their new exhibition Divine Identity

Credit: Jo E. Norris, Copyright info: Image © 2025 Jo E. Norris 

BY EMMA CIESLIK August 21, 2025

Living queer saints walk among us, people who have led and are leading the path to queer and trans liberation in an increasingly inhospitable world. Like martyred saints throughout the history of the Catholic Church, queer and trans people are often the targets of violence and outright murder--killed for who they are and how they show up in the world. This is a critical piece of nonbinary Korean American photographer Salgu Wissmath’s new exhibition Divine Identity displayed along the fence at Corporal John A. Seravalli Playground in New York City. 

Building on artist Gabriel García Román’s tradition of depicting queer and trans people as saints in his Queer Icons series, as well as Kelly Latimore’s and Jason Tseing’s practice of creating saint portraits of key LGBTQ+ figures like Marsha P. Johnson in Latimore’s Icon series and St. Daniel Aston in Tseing’s Queer Saints project, Wissmath visualizes the sacredness of queer people of faith as devotional portraits. Like Frances Marshall’s Queer Religion exhibition depicting queer people of faith in their places of worship, some of Wissmath’s portraits take place in houses of worship but others are distinguished only by their monochromatic backgrounds, stark against the colorful halos around their heads. 

Wissmath’s photography is a practice of meditative looking and reverence for the queer and trans people that chose to remain in spaces of faith, despite (these spaces) histories of physical, spiritual, and emotional violence, knowing that queer and trans children will continue to be born into families of faith and that spiritual meaning may be important and should be accessible to all. After the exhibition opened, I sat down with Wissmath to discuss the inspirations and impacts of the photographic portraits in a New York public park. 

Cieslik: You mention Gabriel García Román and Kelly Latimore as key inspirations in your journey. Are there any other artists or traditions that you believe fed into this exhibition, or inspired you to visualize these queer people of faith as saintly?

Wissmath: I don't have other specific artists off the top of my head, but just generally the tradition of creating icons is a spiritual practice. I’ve definitely been inspired by seeing icons in my lifetime, in churches, in museums. In particular, seeing that traditional art form creatively used in a more modern context. There’s a modern motif of creating religious icon imagery, but featuring people such as--activists, migrants, trans people, etc.--and so you see Martin Luther King Jr., Marsha P. Johnson depicted as modern-day saints, and I feel like I have seen these types of depictions a lot on Instagram and social media. They usually have that halo around their head.

One in particular that I’m thinking of--I believe it’s a Kelly Latimore icon, is an image of an undocumented migrant family crossing the border iconized as the holy family seeking refuge in Bethlehem. The way artists use these religious tropes or references to then make commentary on the modern-day world or to honor different historical or modern day figures just really inspired me. I see them as subversive forms of art. For me, art can be a type of prayer, so I use these subversive art forms as visual prayers to remind us to honor the living saints among us. 

I was moved by seeing all of these other artists doing this style of art to use this methodology myself in order to highlight queer folks of faith by creating similar icons. 

Shaman Seo, Copyright info: Images © 2025 Salgu Wissmath 

Pronouns: She/Her/Hers
Faith Tradition: Korean Shamanism, Korean American Shaman
Queer Identity: Queer Femme, Lesbian
How has your faith influenced your coming out process?

I feel like because of my faith, I found out that I was queer. I had no idea I was queer, but my ancestral guides were showing me visions and kept pushing me toward it. Our ancestors want us to live a happier, more authentic, more aligned life. Because of my faith, I had the courage to come out.

When I did come out, everything lined up better for me. I had a lot of fears around losing everything I had built in my 40+ years with coming out, but in reality, everything got better.  I had leaned into the ancestral guidance to live my truth, and I got rewarded with stronger shamanic powers, more opportunities to build my work, and an even bigger and more supportive community.  Now I am in a marriage that really believes in my work as a shaman, and my new queer family definitely receives a lot of benefits for being married to a shaman! Faith can help you find your true identity at almost 50. My faith helped me to come out and realize my identity.

Cieslik: Did you yourself grow up religious? If so, how did religious impact you as a queer person? If so, what does your relationship with religion look like now? 

Wissmath: I grew up Catholic. My family was Catholic growing up and I was pretty active going to church through my young adulthood. I took kind of a break from going to church when I was  coming out and figuring out my identity, so I’m not actively going to church at the moment.  But I do identify as a spiritual person and connect with spirituality of different types and forms. Obviously a lot of this art is inspired by Catholic art, and in particular what you would see on stained glass windows and prayer cards. 

Rev. Kori, Copyright info: Images © 2025 Salgu Wissmath  

Rev. Kori

Pronouns: They/Them/Theirs 

Faith Tradition: Catholic Priest
Queer Identity: Queer, Genderqueer, Nonbinary 

How does your gender identity intersect with your faith journey?

It starts with the little anecdote, which is when I was little I [told] my grandma, “When I grow up, I want to be a priest.” And she's like, “Only boys can become priests.” And I said, “I want to grow up and be a boy.” Now when I look back, that was prophetic. It didn't seem weird to me to think that way. The priesthood was always something I wanted and longed for and I just didn't know how to get there.

Roman Catholic Women Priests is the group that ordained me. They see themselves as a movement for reform within the Roman Catholic Church. The Roman Catholic Church says I'm excommunicated and anyone who attends one of our ordinations is excommunicated. In the entire international RCWP movement I am the first known trans and nonbinary person.

Cieslik: What is the power, as you say in the artist statement, of people feeling empowered “to embody their own sacredness?”

Wissmath: I think, for me, a big purpose of uplifting particularly queer people of faith is that, unfortunately, there’s a history of the Church creating harm against the queer community and not accepting them, telling them negative messages.There’s a sense in our society that queerness and being religious are incompatible. In large part because of a lot of the harm that the Church has caused against the queer community. But there are a lot of folks who are both queer and religious, and so being queer and religious can coexist. 

I wanted to give visibility to that intersection of folks, especially as someone who is queer and a person of faith. I know I exist. I have friends and I know other people in that community. Highlighting people who are queer and religious or spiritual in some way, and who have embraced both of those identities, helps counteract these narratives that you can’t be both or that they’re incompatible. It’s a counter narrative to the discrimination and attacks against queer people that are often motivated by certain types of religious beliefs, especially the harmful ideology of Christian nationalism. 

In seeing other people’s journeys of embracing all of their identities— their queer identities, their gender identities, and being their full selves— hopefully the people viewing these images will be able to embody their own sacredness— whether they’re queer, whether they’re a person of faith, whether they’re spiritual, whether they go to church or not. I think everyone has their own spiritual journey. So the power is in being affirmed to follow that path, whatever that is, and to counteract the narrative when certain churches or certain pastors or certain religious groups say you shouldn’t be queer.

Those negative messages are shared not just by the Church, but they also permeate our society. Even if you’re not religious, you still hear and are aware of those messages, for example, as seen in all of the laws currently that are being passed across the country. A record number of anti-trans, anti-queer laws are being passed, and those laws often weaponize specifically a narrow Christian doctrine against trans rights and queer rights. So being able to be affirmed in who you are and to embody your sacredness and your queerness is so important. Just having the visibility of people in those intersections counteracts all those negative messages that society is giving the queer community, especially trans youth right now. 

I want the message to be positive, by seeing these people who are both, and are holding multiple identities. And they’re not necessarily just Christian. They are from different religious backgrounds--Judaism, Buddhism, paganism and Shamanism. The message is showing there are multiple paths and helping people of faith feel encouraged and affirmed on their own spiritual journeys whatever that may be. 

Cieslik: Why is it significant to see representation of queer and trans people of faith? 

Wissmath: For me, sharing stories of people of faith thriving in queer affirming spiritual spaces is so important because they offer a counter narrative to the root of so much of the discrimination and attacks against queer people. You don’t even have to be religious to experience this church hurt because our society is permeated with it. Currently, a lot of the anti-trans, anti-queer laws are fueled by the harmful ideology of Christian nationalism and Project 2025, which weaponizes a very narrow Christian doctrine against trans and queer rights. As a result, society often views being queer and being trans as incompatible with being religious. 

Being queer and religious can coexist. I myself am a queer and nonbinary person of faith, and I know many others, including people in this project. Nationwide, about 5.3 million LGBTQ+ adults are religious according to a Williams Institute report. One of the faith leaders who I've been photographing, Dr. Roberto Che Espinoza, put it very eloquently: “Making visible and sharing the lives of trans faith leaders is sacred because visibility is sacred.” Stories are sacred. Seeing people like you and seeing people that share your experiences are powerful. There are more and more queer and trans people being affirmed by their communities, uplifted and even ordained as pastors, priests, rabbis, and spiritual leaders in their faith traditions. 1 out of every 4 new ordained Episcopal priests is LGBTQ+ from 2010-2021 according to research on Episcopal clergy.  All to say, there are a lot of people who are queer and spiritual. There are also a lot of religious and spiritual communities that are affirming, even in the ones you don’t think. 

Even in the denominations that you may think are more conservative or less queer affirming, there’s always that one congregation somewhere, or that one pastor somewhere in that faith tradition that is affirming. A lot of different denominations, especially Christian denominations, have internal networks, taskforces, or grassroots groups that are building affirming coalitions from within. Even within denominations that may not be fully affirming or accepting, there’s often these smaller affirming coalitions within those denominations. I think that’s important to show because there are queer people everywhere. A lot of people grow up in the church, either  already knowing they’re queer, or realizing later that they’re queer.
So that’s going to be a common intersection for people: having experience with spiritual communities, figuring out their queer identity, and reconciling the two. I think it’s significant to see these representations of faithfully queer and trans people for queer people to know that is a possible path for them. That if they want to be in a spiritual community, there is one that they can find. It might not be in their home church they grew up in, but it may be in the denomination that they are familiar with. Or it may be in a different denomination. It may be in a completely different religious tradition. But if they do want to be in community with other spiritual folks, there are affirming communities that they can find.

So many people wrestle with the question of accepting their own queer identity or their gender identity because of these negative messages that permeate our society. There are also people that have never wrestled with it. They might say, ‘I always knew God loved me. There was never a question.” I think sharing those stories is so important because some people assume that just because you are queer, you must have struggled with your religion or you hate your religion or you don’t want to be religious. 

For some people, there was no struggle because they always had a firm understanding of God and their relationship to God. For some people, they did struggle but they found a spiritual community that works for them. For other people, they struggled and they ultimately left the church. All of those paths are equal and important. When it comes down to it, the most important thing is that if you are a queer or trans person, to know that you are loved and you are exactly who you are meant to be. Letting all the people photographed in this project say that message directly, in their own words, is important for queer people to hear. 

delfín, Copyright info: Images © 2025 Salgu Wissmath  

delfín  

Pronouns: they / elles / delfín 

Faith Tradition: Person of Faith. Person of Spirit 

Queer Identity: Latine, genderqueer, queer and trans person of spirit 

When did you know that you were indeed loved by God?

It would take a couple of years. At first it was, “I'm sinning. Then I'm going to burn in hell and not only am I going to burn in hell, my mom's going to burn in hell and then my sisters are going to burn in hell. We're all going to burn hell together. And what do I do?” I was also in reparative therapy for almost six months. The message that was being instilled in me was that there was something wrong with me. That I could be cured. 

I finally just had this moment of, “There's nothing wrong with me.” Do I have my issues? Yes. But at that time my sexuality was not one of them. I need to figure this out for myself. If I really believe that I’m made in the image of God, then as a queer person, I’m made in the image of a queer god. That was just very revolutionary to me at the time. 

Cieslik: What is the importance of the photograph’s location? Why is it impactful that they are on display in a public park rather than a house of worship or museum?

Wissmath: This is the first exhibition of this project, and it was part of the Photoville Festival, which is a big photography festival in New York that has public art installations across the city. This year, it was accepted into the festival, and they chose the location. The location of the park they chose was near to the New York City Pride route, and so I think they picked that location to get some visibility during that event. Also this park location got to have the exhibit stay up a little bit longer than the main festival activities, which were a few weeks in June. This one got to stay up from June through mid-September. 

Just having it outside--it’s accessible, anyone can see it anytime of day. There are no hours for the exhibition. It’s free. It’s on a public street, so many people just happen upon it. I think that’s important because it’s open to everyone. It’s accessible. It’s not hidden behind the walls of a gallery. There’s no barriers to view it. I really love that this was able to be the first exhibition of this work. 

A future goal of the project is to showcase it in spiritual spaces, such as churches and temples and synagogues, and have it to be a travelling exhibition through those communities. Showcasing it in spiritual spaces is a way to reclaim those sacred spaces as safe for queer and trans people. As you know, there is a lot of healing that needs to be done between spiritual institutions and the queer community. It’s important to recognize that and acknowledge that there’s been a lot of trauma and harm caused by religious institutions against queer people. I hope that by sharing these stories about queer peoples’ spiritual lives and showcasing them in sacred spaces that the project can also promote opportunities for healing among the queer community and religious spaces. 

Wissmath’s work is also featured in another show Becoming Ourselves, a show including images of happy trans and nonbinary adults and youth in 2023. Most recently, the show asa hosted as Third Space at Shaarei Tfiloh, a synagogue in Baltimore, Maryland. 

Cieslik: What does the full project look like? What does the whole project involve?

Wissmath: As I mentioned, the goal of the project is to travel to sacred spaces, so churches, temples, synagogues, etc. as well as maybe conferences of spiritual communities. I have a plan to tentatively exhibit the work next June at a church in California. Hopefully after that exhibit, it will then be able to travel to other places--a few spots also in California. Since I am based right now in Texas, then to a few spots in Texas, and then to other places. I have a lot of connections with the people I photographed who may be a pastor of a church here or there, so hopefully eventually taking it on the road to their location. I have a lot more photographs that I need to prepare and get ready for that. 

Sort of the next phase of the project is to incorporate stained glass elements into the display of the pictures. I am actually learning how to make stained glass, and the next goal would be to display these images as this kind of mixed media stained glass photography piece. I don’t have a specific timeline on when that part of it will be ready. My goal is for next June, but we’ll see. I think that will be really cool to see. 

I haven’t been able to do this yet, but eventually I also want to make prayer cards of the individual portraits. These are common in Catholic circles, typically showing a saint, Mary, or Jesus, etc, with a prayer on the back. I think having a little card with the person and some wise words that they have said on the back in your wallet, or on your wall, or with you is so meaningful. Because a big point of the project is people get to have it with them. It's like how you may find comfort in having a prayer card of Jesus on your wall or on your altar, now you can have a modern day queer saint on your wall or your altar. That feeling of peace and comfort of being surrounded by your queer community is really important. 

As I mentioned, writing icons is a sacred, spiritual art form. My spiritual director told me the idea is that when the icon has been created and has been blessed that it creates sort of a window to that individual spirit, so when you’re in front of that icon, praying or being meditative, that saint can actually be present with you. I think of it like a Harry Potter portrait. It’s like when you’re there, they’re there too. That imagery really speaks to me of imagining queer people—  especially youth, people who maybe live in a place where they don’t have a lot of queer community, or they don’t have an affirming church— that they can be surrounded by and in the presence of their queer ancestors and elders and siblings and feel comforted by that. Sharing that prayer card, or even sharing photo prints, creates that opportunity for this community to be everywhere. 

A big thing that I’ve learned from this project on queerness and faith is that a lot of times queer spiritual communities are not in a physical place, they are often virtual, they’re online, they’re on social media. Which is really cool because then no matter where you are, you can have access to an affirming queer spiritual community. Making it a little bit more universal than what is available in your town, or in your state, or what’s drivable. You may not have access to that within a ten minute drive of where you are, but there is always somewhere where you can find those spaces. 

The primary goal is to exhibit it in sacred spaces. Then incorporating some stained glass elements and creating the prayer cards are sort of the next phases of the project. 

Cieslik: As you share in the artist statement, “viewing icons is a meditative practice which creates a window through to the spirit of the individual being celebrated in the image. By contemplating the icons in this series, I hope queer folks will receive a sense of peace and comfort.” What do you hope people walk away with from this exhibition?

Wissmath: I hope when people view these portraits they will be able to contemplate the person before them. Writing icons is a meditative practice, which creates a window through to the spirit of the person being celebrated in the image. So by contemplating the icons in the series, I hope queer folks will receive a sense of peace and comfort, feeling surrounded by their queer elders and siblings, especially when they may feel alone. Whether or not the viewer is a person of faith, I hope that just viewing these icons will empower queer folks to embody their own sacredness. I hope queer people of faith will be encouraged and affirmed on their own spiritual path, whatever it may be. I hope people feel affirmed in who they are, and comforted that whatever path they’re on is the right one for them, and reassured that if they’re looking for a path that there’s one out there for them to find. 

The main Photoville exhibition ran from June 7-22, but the outdoor exhibition remains on view through mid-September. Part of all print sales will be donated to the Thrive Youth Center, an LGBTQ+ nonprofit providing housing support for unhoused LGBTQ+ youth in San Antonio, Texas. The reporting for this project was supported by the International Women’s Media Foundation’s Lauren Brown Fellowship.

Meet The Artist Salgu Wissmath, the photographer behind "Divine Identity," this Saturday, August 23, 2025 from 2-4 PM at Corporal John A. Seravalli Playground in the West Village neighborhood of Lower Manhattan, New York City. RSVP recommended here.