Content Warning: Some graphic language
Introduction by Hannah Twinberrow-Hirst
Christopher and I were put in touch by a mutual friend and our initial meeting was supposed to be merely an opportunity for me to wax lyrical about Christopher’s exhibition “Watch Us Lead,” which I had been lucky enough to see in person at the Birmingham Museum and Gallery (UK) last year. However, upon meeting Christopher I realized there was something very special about the man behind the work: the voice behind the voices he so diligently worked to platform in his exhibition. So, attempting to embody the bold Disabled leadership displayed by Christopher through his own collection of oral histories, I requested that Christopher submit to having the spotlight shifted onto him and to surrender the role of interviewer to me. He humbly obliged me and we spent a wonderful morning discussing (amongst other things): identity, leadership, forming connections, and being seen.
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HT-H: Congratulations on being selected as one of the artists for the 20/20 project. Can you tell us a little bit about where the initial idea for this project started and then where it ended up (as we know those two things rarely end up being the same thing!)
CS: Thank you. I think I should start by saying that the reason I went for the 20/20 residency project commission because it wasn’t geared towards Disabled people. I think it’s important to go into spaces and seek opportunities that are not Disability focused. This is where a lot of learning on both sides can happen. I initially had the idea of responding to the museum’s Disability collection, but I realized quite quickly that I needed to rewrite my proposal because the objects only really had tenuous links to Disability. For example, there were postwar objects related to charities that supported ex-servicemen. For me, that wasn’t good enough. I could have responded to this collection and made something for the 20/20 project based on these, but what I really wanted to do was meet with our community and bring new acquisitions into the collection more permanently. I wasn’t sure exactly what it would look like, if that would be objects or oral histories or something else… but I just knew that there was a collection of individual narratives that needed to have their own space and that I needed to respond to them in my own way.
HT-H: Alongside your collection of oral histories and ink drawings, you ultimately created a central art piece in the form of a stained-glass window. Birmingham has a rich history with stained glass. In fact, the Birmingham museum and gallery features stained glass windows in some of its permanent exhibitions (such as ‘Elijiah in the Wilderness’, 1883, designed by Edward Burne-Jones and featured in the Elephant in the Room Exhibition. And ‘The seven virtues – Charity’ 1810-18 by William Raphael Egerton. Which was later removed from a church in Great Barr by the Victorians) However, you have flipped the conventional Biblical depictions of stained-glass imagery on its head. The stained-glass image in “Watch us Lead” depicts you, a Black man in a wheelchair, palms outstretched whilst women dressed in white assemble around you. You occupy the space of a saint or the Messiah, almost blessing the congregation and leading them to salvation. How was this received?
CS: Looking at Birmingham’s collection, I saw many different religions. I saw many depictions of Jesus and of people being saved or healed. I was particularly aware that for the Disabled community there is this collective experience where we are often being prayed for, or saved, or healed. And the penny dropped for me immediately: I had never seen anyone make a piece of work like what was in my mind. It’s layered. It’s about the state of the world. It’s about our relationship with culture and society. Our relationship with Disability. It speaks about our own relationship with faith. It speaks about the relationship with the Messiah; the role played by the white saviour complex and the colonial backdrop of faith within the community. And how big a role faith plays. But also, the people depicted are all women. Women are the ones who carry everything, they’re the backbone of everything and so I wanted to capture what that meant to people – the wider experience. I spoke to some of my family. My nephew always gives his honest opinion… He said, “I am not sure if this is a good idea! People might think it is blasphemous that you are depicting yourself as some sort of Jesus, Messiah type person.” Which was interesting because it made me think: So, what if I was? It’s not a Messiah in that sense.
I have had a few able-bodied people with strong faiths who wanted to have a conversation about the piece. They felt uncomfortable with the way I depicted someone being healed. I would say that many Disabled people have felt that they were the problem; because their faith wasn’t strong enough, they weren’t being healed. So, the art is a comment on that. But, on the other hand, I have also met with able-bodied people from within the same groups who have said “it’s brilliant. It’s made me think about my own family and my relationship with disability. Maybe Disabled people don’t need to be saved. Maybe we’re the ones who need to be educated and saved,” and I think: that’s it. You get it.
HT-H: And that feeds so nicely into the title, “Watch Us Lead,” because so rarely are Disabled people portrayed as being in positions of leadership. Even when discussing the idea of Disabled community, it is often depicted as a gathering of marginalized individuals rather than something with momentum and direction. How did you arrive at the title “Watch Us Lead”?
CS: So, I was really aware of not feeding into the same narrative. Through all my work, I am led by two things: the research, or the facts, and how I feel. It was through multiple conversations with the different people involved in the project that I realized that they all lead in various different ways. Darren was the first Blind, Black, Captain Football player for England. He is fine to do things for himself. Now he does advocacy work, and he is a motivational speaker. He spoke about wanting to be a leader from a young age and not having to rely on anyone. If you look at Jenika, she wrote children’s books and set up a charity around sickle cell disease to support those with similar lived experiences. Janelle set up a charity breaking barriers. Then you have Josette who spoke about her experience getting her headmaster to write a letter to her parents so that she could transfer schools as she knew she wasn’t being properly educated. They are all leaders.
HT-H: One thing that struck me with all of your interviews, is that you got to the driving force of their identity. Disability was one aspect of them, but you showed how multifaceted they all are. How did you go about entering quite a personal space? Especially given that you were approaching communities that historically do not have their narratives represented in these spaces.
CS: So that’s a really, really important question. I am aware how vulnerable it is to expose yourself and speak about yourself, even when speaking about it on your own terms. I wanted to see the full version, not just the part with Disability. But that is a lot. I know one of my strengths is that I am personable, but I still knew that I needed to build a rapport with each person. So, I had a good few conversations with each person so that they could see what I was doing, why I was doing it, why it was important to me. I also shared my own experiences so that they would know that this dialogue is a two-way thing. In a previous life I trained as a counsellor, so I have counselling skills and qualities. What I picture as “being human qualities,” so I know how to relate to them; a lot of our stories were related. I could respond to their oral histories by asking questions. That’s the powerful way of having a conversation that is very exposing and very difficult, but in a way that everyone feels safe. So, I shared my own story and responded in the moment, so I was present.
HT-H: It felt fundamental that your own image and the ink drawing about your own experience appeared alongside the other individuals in the exhibition. In the introductory text for “Watch Us Lead” you said that “at the core of the exhibition are the voices of the individuals involved.” You said that “these voices shaped the exhibition’s form, feeling and tone, with all other elements woven around them.” I really liked your use of the word “woven.” How do you feel your identity was woven into this collection? You talked about sharing your story, but did you find your own sense of identity was impacted by the other stories?
CS: I felt a sense of belonging. I felt seen. I felt acknowledged. With all the projects I do, I am always urging for an understanding of the experience – for myself. To make this work gave me permission to realise that this is a real experience, that this isn’t in my head – other people have had similar experiences. It gave me a tremendous amount of confidence within my practice. I realized I am interested in not just making art, but in shifting policies within institutions. I am interested in consultation stuff. I am interested in mentoring. I realised: I am a leader. Some people may say, that’s rubbish you kind of know what you’re doing, what are you talking about? But I describe it like this: I knew how to cook but I didn’t know any recipes. I could just cook. Now I kind of know the recipe. It’s a very different type of empowerment.
HT-H: That’s fantastic. The fact that you are stepping into your leadership and acknowledging it. A lot of times Disabled people are taught to be overly humble or grateful and not to be proud or loud about all the facets of themselves. Your artwork is powerful and essential. I particularly loved the drawing that you did for Darren, where you had the black paper. It sat in contrast to the white background of the other images. It felt sparse, there was a different type of depth all around him. And yet, it wasn’t scary and it wasn’t alienating. It felt empowering that he was embracing the darkness of the blindfold when he went onto the football pitch. Do you have a particular drawing that you really kind of connected with? Is it your own or somebody else’s?
C.S: That’s like choosing your favourite child! [he laughs] I think they’re all really powerful. Okay, maybe it is mine. It is. It’s my drawing, because my drawing relates to every element of each of the others. It acknowledges every other person within that show. It draws on love, pain, autonomy, lack of autonomy, bereavement, grieving and loss. I think … for me … yeah, it is. My favourite is mine. Well… Maybe it’s not. Maybe it’s all of them. That’s the most difficult question!
H.T-H: Well, I’m not really sorry for asking [joking tone] because you’ve given an excellent answer and touched on some key aspects of the exhibition. There’s lots of forms of Disabled grief and as a society, they’re probably not talked about enough. Especially the constant and ongoing renegotiations involved in Disabled grief. How did you balance delving into such difficult dark spaces with finding moments of joy in your interview? For example, you manage to pivot from discussing traumatic medicalized issues such as Darren’s “interactions with medical professionals” which he describes as “painful on so many levels” to then Darren laughing as he talks about his dad’s nickname being “Pelé” when he was growing up. You also have Jenika describing intense “isolation” and then revealing that she relished “sneaking out without [her] coat.” You manage to navigate really distressing moments and then pick out moments of light.
C.S: First of all, one of the things I was worried about was making sure that those people are safe and that I was not pushing them too far. I needed to make them feel safe in order to open up. But I am highly aware that everyone is at a different place in their journey and their relationship with Disability and their body. So, for me, it’s a part of reading the room and considering: “is this person able to talk about this at this point?” My whole practice is about interrogating difficult things and the movement to those difficult things. And I think you probably inevitably change from studying that. I can laugh and I can feel sadness simultaneously. I think that’s been a way of coping for me. It used to be a way for me to protect myself but now it’s actually become my strength. It has been a process to use this in a different way. I’m now able to move between those different emotions but also look after myself. However, saying that, I still have to take time to process things afterwards and reflect.
H.T-H: Some of the exhibits in “Watch Us Lead” are very sensitive. The newspaper articles you included from the Midland MenCap archives have been labelled with trigger warnings for their use of outdated and ableist terminology. How did you take care of yourself when being exposed to quite upsetting material?
C.S: This type of work is not for everyone. Particularly when you’re living this, when you’re on the front line yourself, it can be triggering. But I have therapy still. Which is something that I think every person should have. That allowed me the space to unpack the stuff that made me furious, that made me sad, that triggered me… I know it sounds kind of kitsch, but in some ways the process is really therapeutic. In each piece of work I make there is a kind of therapy to it.
H.T-H: I can see that. There’s something deeply poetic about the archival pieces being trapped behind glass, the Disabled people they discuss being removed and absent, and then you creating pieces where the Disabled individuals are front and centre. They are active, the autonomous agents of the piece. There must be a healing aspect to bringing that concept to life.
C.S: Yeah, that’s it. That is really important. I think many people don’t realise how powerful and important it is for us to be seen, particularly in certain spaces. So that we don’t just always appear in the same contexts. It is important for humanity, for society, for the culture, for the generations to come.
H.T-H: Through your work there’s a permanence to your subjects’ presence. They say: “we were here.” I liked the way you juxtaposed the pieces that you created with the black and white photos you chose from the Birmingham museum archive as well. How did you go about selecting the specific pieces? For example, you’ve got an image of a crowd in 1977 listening to news of the Black Diaspora and an image of Ras Tread on the mic at the Marcus Garvey Day celebration. What drew you to these particular photographs?
C.S: So… each person spoke to those images. Jenika, Josette, Fidel all spoke about their experience of the Pan African movement. Fidel’s dad was a Rasta. These were cultural things that real impact in these individuals’ lives. And it’s one thing them talking about their life and you creating a piece of work in response. It’s another thing having Vandenberg capture those moments so you can actually feel it. It was really interesting; I had already designed the stained-glass window with the women in white before I had seen the photograph of the church convention. And then all of the women in the image were in white.
H.T-H: What an amazing, serendipitous moment.
C.S: Yeah, it was. I just stumbled across that image in the collection of all the photographs. Initially, I wasn’t sure whether I would use any of the photographs because they are another artist’s work, and I wanted this show to be centred around the individuals in the interviews. However, ultimately, I felt that including these pictures didn’t detract from the different elements in the show.
H.T-H: I would agree. If anything, it brings in the concept of interconnection and interdependency within the Disabled movement. The fact that all bodies and all stories are interconnected. Especially in a time of hyper-individualism when Disabled stories can sometimes get siloed off as they are considered to “just be about Disability.” Having multiple artists present within the work demonstrates how we are constructed from all our connections.
C.S: Exactly. And that’s the thing. Even without directly speaking about it, those images relate to stigma, they relate to belonging and to agency. It adds to the multidimensional aspects of what makes us up as human. It just felt right for them to be included.
H.T-H: Building on the idea of interconnection, how do you think that somebody could take the ideas you put forward even further? How do you think we could build upon what you’ve done with this exhibition and with this collection?
C.S: I do think about legacy so I’m thinking about how the work within the archive can continue. Whether that is through academics coming in, or more broadly public engagement stuff where programmes and schools can come in and respond to the objects. I think about the access version of the exhibition, how that changes the dynamics of how they show work now within the museum. Through an access lens. But also, I think it’s a green light for the museum to take risks because I think that some institutions and organisations are scared of taking risks particularly with subjects like Disability. Even of using the word ‘Disabled’. It’s about them not knowing the language, how to kind of hold it and create space. I think it’s a good blueprint as to what’s possible. But also, the work’s not finished. That show could be loaned out and shown in different spaces. I think I want to make – and I will be making – a bigger body of work with the aim of touring various different spaces because it’s not a Birmingham issue. It’s not even a national issue. It’s an international issue.
H.T: Would you like to take it abroad then?
C.S: Of course! I think it would benefit so many different other spaces. And also, I think it’s an interesting look at the British Disabled experience and more specifically the British Black Disabled experience. I think that North America is ahead of us in many ways in Disability discourse. So, I’m intrigued to see how they would respond to the Black British experience. Countries learn from other countries. I was speaking to a young man who came over from Uganda. He said, “your exhibition is amazing. What it’s given me is the realisation that actually there’s possibilities to do anything.” That may sound really obvious or silly to some people but that’s why, to me, representation is really important. I just ran a workshop for Disabled people in Peru. And they were so grateful to have a space to speak about their experience. They could deeply relate to my work in many different ways. So yeah, I would love for the exhibition to go abroad.
H.T: You said that there’s still a lot of hesitation around Disability discourse in museum and archive spaces in the UK. However, there does appear to be the start of a movement towards decolonising the spaces. For example, Birmingham Museum and Art Gallery themselves have “The elephant in the room” exhibition now, which is fantastic. Are you noticing the same momentum with Disability – has it been integrated into an intersectional discussion or separated out?
C.S: Unfortunately, and frustratingly they have been separated out. Disability is at the bottom of the totem pole. There needs to be more conversation around that. But I think it comes in cycles. We saw this with COVID; Disability and access were at the forefront of people’s minds, so people were speaking about them more and they were more receptive to this conversation. But I think, as humans, we have a tendency to go back into what is comfortable, and into our set ways. I do feel hopeful that there is a shift coming because I think the new generation is much more savvy. Much, much more inclusive. Much more on the money. You can’t hide from them now. And I think because of the technological advancements, there is so much information available that people have access to and that has helped things.
H.T-H: COVID seemed to expose a lot of people’s concerns around the transience of health. It demonstrated how vulnerable we all are and how easy it is to slide into Disablement. Do you think that this was a catalyst for change?
C.S: I think what it did was level the playing field for a second. People actually had to think about it. They realised “actually, I don’t have autonomy here. I’m being tracked. Oh, shit. Is that how Disabled people feel?” But let’s be completely honest: if it doesn’t affect people directly, people are not interested. Within the cultural sector there is a bubble. And I know I am in a bubble. I have to remind myself, when I step out of that bubble, “oh shit, people are actually ableist.” I’m fucking aware of this, but I have to remind myself that the reality is that able-bodied people are not thinking about Disability a lot. They aren’t thinking about it in the way that, within the space, a lot of people are aware of Disability. I still have to fight to have a voice in everyday life. I have to deal with people not looking at me, talking down to me, the lack of access to a space. Things have changed, they have shifted; we’re not living in the 80s or 90s anymore, things have moved a lot, things have changed but there’s still work to do. Lots of work.
H.T-H: And this links back to the importance of representation, because if people can’t see it, they can’t imagine it. Especially when Disability is the one thing that will impact everybody in some way, at some point.
C.S: And that’s the point. 16.8 million people disabled in the UK. That’s like, 1 in 4 people. We should be everywhere but look around: we aren’t represented in the way we should be. And that that’s something we need to work towards as a collective and as humans.
H.T-H: You chose to end your own interviews for “Watch Us Lead” by asking: “what would you like to change about the way the world sees Disability or condition?” This feels like an appropriate time to ask you that very question…
C.S: Thank you! [laughs] I would always maintain that I don’t expect people to be aware of the Disabled experience. But I would always remind them that you have a brother, you have a sister, you have a mother, you have a father, you have a partner, you have a friend, you have a companion, you have a child, you have a neighbour. Imagine that those people you care about, that they didn’t have access to the shop or that people were not talking to them as a human. How would that make you feel? You know, I find that by asking people those questions it allows them to think outside of the box and relate to that. No one knows for sure, but it’s important to remember that, at some point, you or someone you care about may need care and so consider how you would want them want to be treated.
H.T-H: You’re right. That is a really important question for us all to consider. Thank you, Christopher.
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About Christopher Samuel
Christopher Samuel is a multidisciplinary artist whose practice is rooted in identity and disability politics. Utilising his lived experience as a black, Disabled man, Christopher explores the missing narratives in our cultural spaces.
Christopher’s previous exhibition ‘The Archive of an Unseen’ (2022) was displayed at Attenborough Arts Centre, Leicester before touring around the country, featuring in locations such as the Wellcome Collection (Dec 2022- Apr 2023) and as part of the ‘Sing the Body Electric Collection 2’ at Bristol Undershed (Jan 2025). It was then incorporated into Middlesborough Institute of Art’s Exhibition ‘Towards New Worlds’ (Jul 2024- Feb 2025) where Christopher’s work appeared alongside that of 14 other Disabled, D/deaf and/or neurodiverse artists.
Christopher’s current exhibition, ‘Watch Us Lead’, is based at the Birmingham Museum and Art Gallery. It aims to spark conversations around the ongoing issues of under-representation, autonomy, and the real disabled experience. Featuring nine recorded interviews for the city of Birmingham’s collection, ‘Watch Us Lead’ highlights the lived experiences of Disabled people of colour in Birmingham. The exhibition combines these stories with stained glass, and ink on paper drawings that reflect significant moments in the lives of the individuals featured. ‘Watch Us Lead’ also includes objects Christopher has selected from Birmingham Museum’s own collection, and from the Midland Mencap Archive, to build a fuller picture of the historic Disabled experience in the city.
The exhibition was funded by the 20/20 project, a UK wide commissioning programme that brought together 20 artists of colour with 20 museums and galleries to create 20 new artworks for public collections. It was created in response to urgent calls for action within arts and culture in the wake of Black Lives Matter and the COVID-19 pandemic – both of which corresponded to an amplification of social inequalities and racial injustices. The 20/20 project was led by UAL Decolonising Arts Institute and funded by Arts Council England’s National Lottery Project Grants Programme, Freelands Foundation and UAL.
Find out more about Christopher’s work at: www.christophersamuel.co.uk.
About Hannah Twinberrow-Hirst
Hannah is an AHRC (WRoCAH) funded part-time PhD student at the University of York whose interdisciplinary thesis focuses on the interconnectedness of Disability narratives in a post(?)-COVID world. A Disabled, queer, new mother, Hannah approaches her writing from an intersectional, interdisciplinary and multimedia perspective.
Having initially undertaken a BDS Dentistry – until disability forced her to withdraw – Hannah went on to complete a BA English at the University of Cambridge. She was elected as Wolfson College’s Student Disabilities Representative and volunteered on the University of Cambridge’s Silver COVID task force committee to provide a voice for the clinically vulnerable community.
In 2022, she was awarded the Wellcome Trust Scholarship for MA Medical History & Humanities at the University of York and subsequently achieved a Distinction.
Alongside her PhD, managing her disability, and raising her young son with her husband, Hannah volunteers as a Disability Heritage Researcher at the Museum of Cambridge and freelances as an EDI guest speaker. When taking a moment to herself, Hannah loves listening to an audiobook and eating toast.