Abstract
Transgender people have been the target of a steady increase in prejudice over the years. In America, this has been encouraged by recent changes in legislation brought in by the Trump Administration. This gives legal weight to a growing negative narrative towards transgender people.
Through the lens of the transgender body, this research paper aims to evidence the impact of such discriminatory segregation on the lived experiences of gender non-conforming people, doing so via the binary-breaking bodies of: Ebenezer Galluzo, Evan Schwartz and Cassils.
Although the gender identity of the individual’s differs: Galluzo as both a transgender man and non-binary, Schwartz as a transgender man, and Cassils as trans-masculine; they are all categorised under the umbrella term ‘transgender’ and so face prejudice collectively.
By way of performance and photography, these artist’s shed light on the struggles that they and others are forced to live through and endure in their day-to-day lives, in a society where transphobia is perpetuated by those at the highest level.
A catalogue of inspiration to embolden and empower other trans artists, capturing moments of unwavering bravery in such challenging times. These artworks encourage protest and activism to halt such acts of law that seemingly provide justification for hate and violence against the transgender community.
Whilst those under the transgender umbrella are a small percentage of the American population, their right to life free from legalised harassment and erasure should hold the same validity as that of any other American citizen.
Key Words: Transgender, Art, Legislation, Oppression, Protest
Preface
“For my personal research, I conducted interviews with each of the three artists discussed – Ebenezer Galluzo, Evan Schwartz and Cassils. I spoke to them about their practice, how they feel their artwork fits into contemporary society and individual artworks that were prominent in a discussion regarding the oppression of trans rights and a history of prejudice in the American legislation. We also discussed how their experiences of navigating America as LGBTQ+ individuals have shaped their artistic practices into what they are today and how the Trump legislation impacted them as a person, as well as an artist.
These three artists’ perspectives of what it is like to be a gender non-conforming artist in American society today shaped this research paper and I’d like to personally thank them for offering me their time and knowledge.”
- Ashton Blyth
Introduction
The word 'transgender' is an umbrella term that encompasses an extensive range of self-identifications beyond the binary of male and female, including but not limited to: non-binary, agender, genderqueer, genderfluid, bigender, multigender, as well as trans men and trans women. It is not only about transitioning physically or medically between genders but is representative of an assertiveness about being who you are, making transgender lived experiences both complex and multifaceted. Personal narratives extend beyond society’s concept of journeys of self-affirmation, where the term transgender is not limited to the states of pre-operative, post-operative, or in-transition. There are many people who cannot afford or do not desire medical intervention, and no amount of hormones or surgery would align their body to their gender identity.
Through the art of three transgender artists, this paper aims to highlight the struggles that gender non-conforming people have been facing in America, doing so via the medium of the binary breaking bodies of:
Ebenezer Galluzo, who identifies as both transgender (female to male) and non-binary, as well as a husband and mother. Galluzo uses photography to redefine how the world views them, in addition to how they view the world, and captures the paradox that is trans visibility.
Evan Schwartz, a photographer who identifies as a transgender man. Best Man studies the bonds he has with the men in his life – whose behaviours have informed his own, allowing him to navigate the world indistinguishable as a man. In Lies I Tell Myself, Schwartz depicts the raw, unfiltered emotions that cross faces when he reveals his trans identity.
Cassils, a trans masculine and non-binary performance artist, who uses themselves as a social sculpture to convey the struggle for survival the LGBTQ+ community face in day-to-day life, highlighting the negation of the transgender community.
To Rationalise
Ebenezer Galluzo identifies as both transgender and non-binary, depending on how he feels, he will use different methods to bind (or not), as to what feels most comfortable to appease his dysphoria that day. Therefore, irreversible medical interventions would not be best suited to Galluzo, when his dysphoria can present in different ways, and to different extents, from one day to the next. Galluzo came out as transgender only a few months before the Trump administration came into power, which meant that the process of transitioning came at a rather frightening time.
“…it was terrifying, on a large scale. It was difficult and challenging” said Galluzo, when reflecting on “the horrors” that occurred with the change of administration in 2017. There was a visible and proud transgender community to seek support from, even more so in Portland, which has a high population of trans masculine according to Galluzo. Yet being in a safer area, and not having his day-to-day life impacted, did not mean that he felt any more able to reach out and find solace in them. Galluzo felt “scared”, that he needed to adhere to the binary rules and restrictions of the new legislation and “toe the line” for his own safety (Galluzo, 2021, In Conversation with Ebenezer Galluzo, Section 3: Legislation).
Fig. 1, Ebenezer Galluzo, Hair, 2017, photograph.
Attempting to rationalise his internal struggles with his gender identity and embrace his body for what it was and all that came with it – breasts, lack of facial hair, periods etc – As I Am evaluated the “self-hatred and fear” Galluzo felt within himself. Wrestling with these feelings, in a society where gender exploration was being met with a new level of scrutiny, meant that the work Galluzo was creating “lacked any form of celebration … any form of rejoicing”. Considering the audience of this art would be surrounded by a narrative of transphobia, where gender-exploration was being rewritten as gender-erroneous, the outcome was not surprising (Galluzo, 2021, In Conversation with Ebenezer Galluzo, Section 3: Legislation).
The intention of As I Am was to show the viewer how ashamed Galluzo already was of himself. By not allowing a stranger to impart a new, derogatory comment onto his trans body, he aimed to make a negative commentary feel redundant: “if I show you all the levels of projected disgust that I have interpreted on my being, that I'm wading through in a horrible trauma - then you won't come after me.” On reflection, he realised the photography was a coping mechanism, capturing his experience of transitioning in the only way that felt safe (Galluzo, 2021, In Conversation with Ebenezer Galluzo, Section 3: Legislation).
On the contrary, Evan Schwartz discusses the “privilege” he experiences, of being able to “walk down the street and not fear for my life”, which has been the case from two years into his transition (Schwartz, 2021, In Conversation with Evan Schwartz, Section 2: Gender Politics).
Best Man portrays the gaps he feels with cisgender males, which change, expand and contract. That the differences he feels from them is not always what is assumed, because politicians fashion their debates of transgender people around the body, and the body is only one piece of it.
Schwartz felt pushed into the spotlight by the change in administration in 2017 as he “could not stand by and be trans and do nothing”, because Trump took the debate far beyond politics. “This isn't about taxes, this is about dignity and respect and existence, and when a person in power tries to eliminate the existence of a group of people” says Schwartz, because that is what Trump has tried to do in a very blatant way, taking the transgender ‘issue’ to a new extreme, stripping away the bare minimum human rights people deserve (Schwartz, 2021, In Conversation with Evan Schwartz, Section 3: Trump Legislation).
Speaking on the male experience, he describes a constant fight for power and attention, in a laughable attempt at finding a purpose, which he does not relate to. Schwartz uses “them” as opposed to “us”, because he has made peace with the fact he does not relate to the cis-male experience, and he does not want to put himself in that same category because he “wasn’t raised that way, and that really affects how you grow up and who you are as an adult”. That being said, after experiencing the first Trump Administration, the impact is clear, considering prior to his discriminatory amendments, Schwartz was capturing the intimate moments of connection between himself and the cis men in his life (Schwartz, 2021, In Conversation with Evan Schwartz, Section 3: Trump Legislation).
The Trump legislation didn’t just have an emotional impact on trans and queer people, but a physical impact. “I experienced hate crimes, many of my friends experienced hate crimes” stated Cassils, due to the unchecked, bigoted rhetoric of Trump that “gave permission to behave in a way that unleased really negative behaviour”. Not that Cassils uses Trump’s name, preferring to refer to the person responsible as 45: “45 effected my life and the lives of many people”, but not only has he effected people, as in past tense, he will continue to do so. Those who supported the horrific beliefs, the judges in the courts, will continue to effect the lives of trans people both young and old as they pass “very, very discriminatory and devastating legislation” in a country that boasts freedom (Cassils, 2021, Cassils: The Body as a Social Sculpture, Section 17: The Effect of 45).
To Compress
Over the four years that followed Galluzo ‘coming out’, he became increasingly comfortable correcting people on his pronouns and not letting slights on his gender presentation adversely affect him. As Galluzo identifies as non-binary, as well as a transgender male, how Galluzo binds his chest depends on his gender dysphoria in that moment. Contrary to what people may choose to believe, it is not about trying to “conceal” or “fool” others, it is about how comfortable this act allows him to feel in his body at that time – it is for his benefit only (Galluzo, 2021, In Conversation with Ebenezer Galluzo, Section 5: Wear Bravery).
Fig. 2, Ebenezer Galluzo, Wear Bravery, 2018, photograph.
Wear Bravery captures the tranquillity that compression allows Galluzo, while also providing the viewer a window to his nude body: to see his breasts compressed, because he has nothing to hide. Appearing to show an attempt to masculinize his body, Galluzo physically entwines himself with a hop plant. Humulus Iupulus, the flowers framing Galluzo’s body, have provided the ‘bitter’ flavouring of beer for over a thousand years and keep it from spoiling. Less widely known, The Journal of Clinical Endocrinology & Metabolism informs us that it has a “powerful estrogenic activity”, since it contains one of the most potent phytoestrogens known to science (1999, pp. 2249). Ironic, that a drink so ingrained in masculinity, contains the ‘ingredient’ used to transition from male to female: the hormone of feminization with the potential to rid oneself of masculinity. To view the image with this information, is to see Galluzo lying on a bed of breast-enlargement, with a blanket of chest-compression, his body caught between the two, as is the state of his mind wrestling with his non-binary gender identity.
The Trump legislation was not the first to try to oppress the rights of those deemed ‘different’. Trans artist Ron Athey was a victim of Jesse Helms’ mission to abolish controversial art, having been “denounced from the floor of the U.S. Senate” and “blacklisted from the art world” (Doyle, J., 2008). The Human Printing Press was part of the group of performance pieces at the Walker Art Centre in Minneapolis titled Four Scenes in a Harsh Life, and partly consisted of Athey making light cuts into the back of fellow artist Darryl Carlton’s (Divinity Fudge) back and using a pully-system to hoist paper towels, soaked with Carlton’s blood, over the audience. The controversy being that Athey is HIV-positive and, despite the fact that it was not Athey’s blood and Carlton is HIV free, word spread via fake reports that the audience were exposed to HIV-positive blood, although the performance and follow-up discussions were well received.
Fig. 3, Ron Athey, Four Scenes in a Harsh Life Performance Still (Walker Art Gallery, MN), 1994.
For the first time since 1994, Athey recreated The Human Printing Press as part of collaboration Cyclic with artists Fanaa and Cassils, as part of World AIDS day in 2018, where they explored their death rites. Performing this culture-war-provoking piece highlighted the full circle of oppression it had undergone, from the Reagan administration and Helms, who declared in the supreme court “there has been a cultural breakdown” (Doyle, 2015, 13:21) on the subject of queer art that confronted society with the question: who is worth saving and who can we overlook? ...to Trump, who sought to undo the progress Obama made.
Fig. 4, Cassils, Pressed Performance Still (Cyclic, Biosphere 2, AZ), 2018.
Cassils, as part of Cyclic, presented his bare body on the floor of the Biosphere 2, where two men proceeded to place one hundred pounds of thick, rectangular glass across him. The performance consisted of Cassils carefully manoeuvring the glass in precise, choreographed movements so as not to shatter it, the only sound being his laboured breaths from the strain it put his lungs under and the scraping of the glass on the floor. Cassils used the medium of glass to convey the feeling of being examined, to be “looked at as a specimen… divergent” (Cassils, 2021, Cassils: The Body as a Social Sculpture, Section 19: Pressed). Foreshadowing Athey’s The Human Printing Press, Cassils demonstrates strength and resilience while balancing the weight of the glass, knowing that there is a very real possibility of it shattering and cutting him.
Pressed depicts the paradox that is trans visibility in contemporary society, where with more acceptance and celebration also comes more hate and violence; for every political step forward the constitution takes, there is usually a step backwards around the corner – for instance, Trump undoing the changes Obama put in place.
To Be Vulnerable
Appeasing the gender dysphoria of his genitalia, Ebenezer Galluzo sometimes chooses to use a packer to allude to the presence of male genitalia in his underwear. However, the enjoyment of this cis-male anatomy is not to deny the difficulties in keeping the packer clean, especially when menstruating. Pride opened a conversation of the taboo and awkward experiences that occur during puberty:
“I just wanted to mash up two things that are seen as very awkward and taboo, no matter what gender you are, when you’re coming of age. I don’t know what it’s like to get a random boner when you’re thirteen at school… but I definitely know the awkward moment of what it is like to have that gush feeling and be like ‘I have a stain, can I sit down?’ and I feel like both these things don’t ever get talked about” (Galluzo, 2021, In Conversation with Ebenezer Galluzo, Section 4: Pride).
Fig. 5, Ebenezer Galluzo, Pride, 2018, photograph.
Despite both situations having their levels of ‘threat’ to people, Galluzo feels that the act of a person bleeding during their menstrual cycle shoulders more stigmatism. The nonchalance with which Galluzo lies there, underwear staining, because his body bleeds “and you all have to deal!” is freeing to see depicted. A subtle bulging, that invites the audience to stare with inquiry, is created by a semi-hard packer. As it draws attention to the fact that the subject is in fact wearing traditionally male underwear, it begs the question “Why are they bleeding?” The reception of this image is mixed. Whilst there are those that connect with it immediately and are appreciative of seeing that someone else understands them, there are also those that will ask him what he is talking about, finding themselves unable to form a connection with the subject despite bleeding themselves (Galluzo, 2021, In Conversation with Ebenezer Galluzo, Section 3: Legislation).
Both the aforementioned photographs speak to Galluzo’s feelings of dysphoria, through the portrayal of moments he only experiences due to his biological sex. Laid bare, what notions of deception can the viewer ascertain from his body?
Galluzo isn’t the only one to expose himself to convey themes that open a discussion on the hurdles trans people face in contemporary society. Evan Schwartz is a Brooklyn-based photographer who, as part of his series Best Man, captured the experience of skinny dipping with his best friends.
Fig. 6, Evan Schwartz, Skinny Dipping, 2016, photograph.
Despite Schwartz’ phobia of nudity, this was the image he had in his head from the conception of the series because of the clear, apparent “body divide” and “freedom” that comes from liberating the body from clothing (Schwartz, 2021, In Conversation with Evan Schwartz, Section 7: Nudity). Skinny dipping was something new to Schwartz, having previously envied the ability to be with friends without care for nudity: to have a body where you wouldn’t receive questioning looks and gave you the confidence to be in a vulnerable state of undress in front of peers. The result of this illustrious event was the capturing of the platonic, physical intimacy of his male friendships, with no speech involved and no shame. Schwartz purposely always displays the work large so as for it “to be big enough to where you noticed the differences in anatomy”, realising this isn’t your typical group of cisgender males doing something risky together, but a group of male-identifying individuals relieving themselves of the constricting societal norms imposed on them, embracing themselves for who they are (Schwartz, 2021, In Conversation with Evan Schwartz, Section 7: Nudity).
Having watched the HBO documentary Robert Mapplethorpe: Look at the Pictures, Schwartz begun to think about the body and sexuality in a different way. Moved and inspired by Mapplethorpe’s use of the human form, the beauty he captured within every frame through his use of lights and darks, positioning and lack of care for what the world wanted to see: instead giving them what they needed to see to break the stereotypical heteronormative representation in the media. Schwartz assures that this would not be the last time he would work with nudity, even if he has yet to know what that looks like, but not wanting the work to be another exposition of a trans body. Unbinding his body for artwork would not only be exposing to do, but the images would be in the public realm permanently, so he wants the work to be monumental.
Understanding the impact of his nude body, Cassils presents himself as a material through which to communicate his chosen subject matter. In a live exposition of vulnerability, Cassils collected all the liquid he excreted for 200 days and stored it in medical bottles, which was then transported to be displayed in a 200-gallon glass cube as a 4,800-hour performance piece entitled Pissed. This powerful display of endurance was in artistic protest to the new legislation revoking the right for transgender students to use the bathroom/changing room of the gender they identify with in schools, the artwork beginning the day this bill was passed.
Fountain, the accompanying performance, marks the final two hours of collecting the liquid. Accompanied by a four-channel spatial audio installation of the testimonies of ‘concerned’ parents and teachers from the Gloucester County School Board, on the case of a trans teenager using the men’s bathroom. Gavin Grimm (a female-to-male transgender student) was left with no choice but to argue his case in the Supreme Court, which he lost (Grimm, G. 2017). Compiling the audio of these ignorant and biased lawyers, judges, parents and teachers in such a way that “when you would encounter the sculpture, you would hear these adults arguing over this child's body, and their voices would be volleyed back and forth over the sculpture” (Cassils, 2021, Cassils: The Body as a Social Sculpture, Section 4: Solutions).
The minimalist sculpture represents not only the bodily fluids that this administration did not want disposed of in their public spaces, but the “hundreds, if not thousands of daily conversations that accrued amongst friends, strangers, colleagues, authorities and acquaintances” (Cassils, 2021, Cassils: The Body as a Social Sculpture, Section 4: Solutions). Shouldering these conversations as his own body was brought into public scrutiny is the silent and invisible labour of this performance.
Fig. 7, Cassils, Pissed: Fountain Performance Still No. 3 (Monumental, Ronald Feldman Gallery, NYC), 2017.
Fig. 8, Cassils, Pissed Installation Image No.9 (Monumental, Ronald Feldman Gallery, NYC), 2017, urine in a 200-gallon glass cube.
Protection offers insight into the fear felt by gender non-conforming individuals when attempting to complete the basic human act of going to the toilet in a public place, thus elegantly capturing the paradox of trans visibility.
Fig. 9, Ebenezer Galluzo, Protection, 2019, photograph.
In contemporary society there is so much awareness around transgender people and their rights, that many gender non-conforming people feel confident enough in society’s level of acceptance to use bathrooms that coincide with their gender identity. However, as statistics of hate crime in America show, this is not done without apprehension. Galluzo is photographed sitting on a toilet in a public bathroom stall wearing boxing gloves.
With themes such as the trepidation in using toilets being shown to an audience, the use of a real person would resonate most powerfully. Galluzo’s use of their own body, in a vulnerable moment that takes place in their day-to-day lives, gives insight into the realities of being transgender and gender non-conforming in modern society. Greater global knowledge and acceptance of the LGBTQ+ community does not necessarily mean any less fear in situations of potential confrontation. The boxing gloves convey the feelings of fear felt in the moment, while the pearls adorning them contribute to a binary gender construct of femininity. The jewellery counters the colloquially known “wife-beater” vest traditionally associated with masculinity and affirms Galluzo’s non-binary gender identity.
To React
Three years ago, Schwartz described his practice as “suspended”: his practice is living his life, and when he experiences something that makes him think – that’s when he starts to create (Schwartz, 2021, In Conversation with Evan Schwartz, Section 1: Practice).
With this knowledge one must assume that it was not a coincidence that, in a time where trans people continue to face ever-growing prejudice with Trump-era legislation still being pushed through, Schwartz created the artwork The Lies I Tell Myself. Through a series of photographs, Schwartz re-enacts the facial expressions he has witnessed when digressing the truth about his assigned sex at birth, exploring the “relationship between offender and the threatened”. Reflecting on how these displays of unease and repulsion, not always subtle, have impacted the development of his gender identity, cataloguing the responses as a form of “internalised transphobia” (Schwartz, 2024) Of course, these photographs are based on Schwartz’s recollection, and so his emotions could impact the result of the expressions he makes. However, the depth to the thoughts clouding Schwartz’s mind, as he recalls and mirrors the faces that he has seen, cannot be falsified.
In a similar vein to Ebenezer, as he showed “the levels of projected disgust that I have interpreted on my being”: Schwartz’s internalized transphobia that is also present in the photographs, that he himself has interpreted on his own being, is a direct result of the external transphobia he sees on the faces of those around him that he discloses his trans-status to, causing a “mirrored false narrative about my place in the world” (Schwartz, 2024).
Fig. 10, Evan Schwartz, The Lies I Tell Myself, 2024, contact sheet of photographs.
Cassils considers the acknowledgement of the critical dialogue, between his audience engagement and artwork documentation, as vital in how his practice has progressed. Becoming An Image is a performance piece that Cassils started in 2012 and recreates annually, where he brutally attacks a 2000lbs clay block in such a way that the result emanates a “bashed body… marked with the imprints of fists, elbows, knees, sweat and struggle”. The performance takes place in total darkness, where the audience cannot see Cassils until the photographer captures a moment, and in doing so also seers the image into the audience’s eyes, “creating a live-photographic experience” (Cassils, 2021, Cassils: The Body as a Social Sculpture, Section 7: Becoming An Image).
Taking this further, Cassils asked the photographer to turn the camera onto the audience, capturing their unfiltered reactions to the art. After working through the night on the confrontational concept, the audience members came back the following day and were unexpectedly met with their own eyes. By triangulating the viewer, the performer and the camera, it eradicates the passivity of the audience: “No one gets to stand on the sidelines for me. If you are a witness, it means that you are present. You are alive and you too are making a choice, you're accountable” (Cassils, 2021, Cassils: The Body as a Social Sculpture, Section 7: Becoming An Image).
Fig. 11, Cassils, Becoming An Image, 2019, photograph.
Conclusion
The artists examined in this paper are each able to navigate into spaces and insert their voices into conversations that the trans population as a whole are shut out of.
Therefore, their works are more than a choice to make pieces of art that explore beyond the binary. One could argue they have a moral obligation to use their artistic platform in peaceful protest and take their personal experiences into the political arena. Such courageous advocacy in the face of America's legislative repugnance for their authentic existence is what unites Ebenezer, Cassils and Schwartz.
Bringing a collective ‘call to arms’, against Trump and his allies these artists embolden and empower other trans artists to use art as a way to combat transphobia at the highest levels of society.
Driven by individual determination to take a stand, together their art tells a story that resonates with non-binary people the world over: a population whose voices demand to be seen.
List of Illustrations
Fig. 1, Ebenezer Galluzo, Hair, 2017.
Photograph by Ebenezer Galluzo.
Fig. 2, Ebenezer Galluzo, Wear Bravery, 2017.
Photograph by Ebenezer Galluzo.
Fig. 3, Ron Athey, Four Scenes in a Harsh Life Performance Still (Walker Art Gallery, MN), 1994, Ron Athey with Darryl Carlton (aka Divinity Fudge) performing Four Scenes in a Harsh Life.
Photograph courtesy of www.walkerart.org
Fig. 4, Cassils, Pressed Performance Still (Cyclic, Biosphere 2, AZ), 2018, Cassils under 100 tonnes of clear glass.
Photograph courtesy of Graham Kolbeins.
Fig. 5, Ebenezer Galluzo, Pride, 2018, photograph.
Photograph by Ebenezer Galluzo.
Fig. 6, Evan Schwartz, Skinny Dipping, 2016, photograph.
Photograph by Evan Schwartz.
Fig. 7, Cassils, Pissed: Fountain Performance Still No. 3 (Monumental, Ronald Feldman Gallery, NYC), 2017.
Photograph by Cassils and Vince Ruvolo.
Fig. 8, Cassils, Pissed Installation Image No.9 (Monumental, Ronald Feldman Gallery, NYC), 2017, sculpture of urine in a 200-gallon glass cube.
Photograph by Cassils and Vince Ruvolo.
Fig. 9, Ebenezer Galluzo, Protection, 2019, photograph.
Photograph by Ebenezer Galluzo.
Fig. 10, Evan Schwartz, The Lies I Tell Myself, 2024, contact sheet of photographs.
Photograph by Evan Schwartz.
Fig. 11, Cassils, Becoming An Image, 2019, photograph.
Photograph by Cassils.
Bibliography
Cassils (2021) Cassils: The Body as a Social Sculpture. Visiting Artist Programme at the University of Tennessee, 19 February. Available at: https://www.ashtonblyth.co.uk/post/cassils-visiting-artist-talk-at-utk
Doyle, J. (2008) 'Blood Work & 'Art Criminals'', "Deep Fake" Art21 Magazine. Available at: https://magazine.art21.org/2008/12/10/blood-work-art-criminals/#.YHivauhKiUl (Accessed: 11 November 2024).
Galluzo, E. (2021) In Conversation with Ebenezer Galluzo. Interviewed by Ashton Blyth, 2 February. Available at: https://www.ashtonblyth.co.uk/post/in-conversation-with-ebenezer-galluzo
Grimm, G. (2017) 'SCOTUS Deals Setback to Trans Rights, But Trans Teen & Activist Gavin Grimm Vows to Push Forward'. Interview with Gavin Grimm and Chase Strangio. Interviewed by Amy Goodman and Juan Gonzalez for DemocracyNOW!, 7 March. (Accessed: 17 November 2024).
Schwartz, E. (2021) In Conversation with Evan Schwartz. Interviewed by Ashton Blyth, 5 February. Available at: https://www.ashtonblyth.co.uk/post/in-conversation-with-evan-schwartz
Schwartz, E. (2024) Lies I Tell Myself. Available at: https://www.evanschwartzphoto.com/lies (Accessed: 8 November 2024).
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