Queer Reclamation: Elyas Alavi & Ayman Kaake
curated by Josephine Mead
Gasworks, Albert Park
for Midsumma Festival
January 15 - February 8, 2026
Opening event: 'Queer Reclamation' by Elyas Alavi & Ayman Kaake, curated by Josephine Mead, for Midsumma Festival, Gasworks, 2026. Image courtesy of Gasworks.
Installation view: 'Queer Reclamation' - work by Elyas Alavi, curated by Josephine Mead, for Midsumma Festival, Gasworks, 2026. Image courtesy of Gasworks.
Installation view: 'Queer Reclamation' - work by Ayman Kaake, curated by Josephine Mead, for Midsumma Festival, Gasworks, 2026. Image courtesy of Gasworks.
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Installation view: 'Queer Reclamation' - work by Ayman Kaake, curated by Josephine Mead, for Midsumma Festival, Gasworks, 2026. Image courtesy of Gasworks.
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Installation view: 'Queer Reclamation' - work by Elyas Alavi, curated by Josephine Mead, for Midsumma Festival, Gasworks, 2026. Image courtesy of Gasworks.
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Installation view: 'Queer Reclamation' - work by Elyas Alavi, curated by Josephine Mead, for Midsumma Festival, Gasworks, 2026. Image courtesy of Gasworks.
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Lebanese-born artist Ayman Kaake and Hazara-Australian artist Elyas Alavi explore ideas of queer reclamation through cultural and religious frameworks. Through the work in ‘Queer Reclamation,’ and in the face of discrimination and persecution, these two artists have offered the most powerful tool at their disposal: Love.
Alavi presents a sculptural installation titled ‘We, of Secrets Kept Hidden.’ The work is inspired by cultural and religious ceremonies in the SWANA region, particularly in Afghanistan, Iran and Pakistan. The artist has reimagined the sculpture as a portal for queer Muslim experience. One of his earliest queer memories comes from childhood recollections of attending Muharram ceremonies in Afghanistan, before his family relocated to Iran due to the civil war. These ceremonies became a way for the artist to process his sexuality while growing up in Iran.
Kaake presents three photographs from the series ‘99 Names’— a collection of photographic portraits of queer individuals, responding to homosexuality being deemed a crime in at least 74 countries. This unapologetic celebration of queer voices challenges the use of faith-based narratives to justify discrimination. The work exposes the hypocrisy of manipulating religion and intertwining it with politics to exert control.
For The rug almost flew off, the artist has placed his personal prayer rug on a rocky shore. It is held down by collected stones, each featuring 99 Names of God, handwritten in Arabic by the artist, and used to keep the rug from flying away. This photograph functions as a self-portrait.
The subject in Ar II holds a stone in their open mouth. Stoning has been historically used as a punishment for queer community. No suggestions of this practice appear in religious books. This work counteracts this history, allowing the subject to reclaim the power of the stone.
In The black shroud I, a group of people collectively hold a black shroud—a fabric of mourning and memory. Covering the shroud are a collection of handwritten Arabic verses—a collage of Abbasid and Umayyad poetry, whispering Abu Nuwas's words on love, gender and euphoria. The image was inspired by a photograph of the artist’s neighbour's final honor, where her children placed a black cloth, calligraphed with Quranic verses, to protect her in the grave. The image Kaake has created represents yet another openly queer body, that was refused this grace, denied by family and buried without honor and prayer.
Alavi and Ayman have created work that bravely reclaims cultural memory and religion to provide inclusive and safe space for queer experience.
— Josephine Mead
Alavi presents a sculptural installation titled ‘We, of Secrets Kept Hidden.’ The work is inspired by cultural and religious ceremonies in the SWANA region, particularly in Afghanistan, Iran and Pakistan. The artist has reimagined the sculpture as a portal for queer Muslim experience. One of his earliest queer memories comes from childhood recollections of attending Muharram ceremonies in Afghanistan, before his family relocated to Iran due to the civil war. These ceremonies became a way for the artist to process his sexuality while growing up in Iran.
Kaake presents three photographs from the series ‘99 Names’— a collection of photographic portraits of queer individuals, responding to homosexuality being deemed a crime in at least 74 countries. This unapologetic celebration of queer voices challenges the use of faith-based narratives to justify discrimination. The work exposes the hypocrisy of manipulating religion and intertwining it with politics to exert control.
For The rug almost flew off, the artist has placed his personal prayer rug on a rocky shore. It is held down by collected stones, each featuring 99 Names of God, handwritten in Arabic by the artist, and used to keep the rug from flying away. This photograph functions as a self-portrait.
The subject in Ar II holds a stone in their open mouth. Stoning has been historically used as a punishment for queer community. No suggestions of this practice appear in religious books. This work counteracts this history, allowing the subject to reclaim the power of the stone.
In The black shroud I, a group of people collectively hold a black shroud—a fabric of mourning and memory. Covering the shroud are a collection of handwritten Arabic verses—a collage of Abbasid and Umayyad poetry, whispering Abu Nuwas's words on love, gender and euphoria. The image was inspired by a photograph of the artist’s neighbour's final honor, where her children placed a black cloth, calligraphed with Quranic verses, to protect her in the grave. The image Kaake has created represents yet another openly queer body, that was refused this grace, denied by family and buried without honor and prayer.
Alavi and Ayman have created work that bravely reclaims cultural memory and religion to provide inclusive and safe space for queer experience.
— Josephine Mead
