Portraits draw link between struggles of past and present

In 1934 the Scottish journalist Harry Whyte wrote to Joseph Stalin after an addition to the Soviet Penal Code that prohibited homosexuality, punishable by three years’ hard labour.

Whyte’s name will be unfamiliar to most but the opening of the Kremlin archives in 1993 revealed Whyte’s words for the first time: “I have a personal stake in this question in that I am a homosexual myself. . .[this] . . . in no way diminishes my value as a revolutionary.” Whyte’s words appear in gilded capital letters on the walls of Summerhall’s War Memorial Library, challenging what Angus Reid sees at the “hetero-normative” and “imperialist” décor, history and ambience of the room.

Instead of binning Whyte’s letter, Stalin scribbled the words “idiot” and “degenerate” on it before marking it for filing — an important fact, notes the Russian artist Yevgeniy Fiks, one of a number of participants in a series of films made by Reid that also includes the art historian Pawel Leszkowicz, the dancer Matthew Hawkins, historian Dan Healey and human rights activist Peter Tatchell.

Perhaps with a nod to Plutarch’s collection of biographies of classical nobility, Reid’s Parallel Lives connects Whyte (who died in 1960) and Tomasz Kitlinski, the Polish contemporary academic and LGBT rights campaigner. In the film, A Masterclass in LGBT Activism, Tatchell discusses anti-LGBT discrimination in Poland with Kitlinski and Leszkowicz, his partner. Under the ruling Law and Justice Party (PiS) hate speech is actively encouraged.

Reid makes some bold claims about this show, which centres on his portrait paintings and sketches of gay men. Reid believes the work “revolutionary”, stating that “this is the first time homosexuality has been depicted in Scottish painting”. When I asked Reid about his sexuality, his understandable riposte was, “Do you have to be black to paint a black person?” These are not flawless academic studies based on expertise in life drawing (Reid studied English at Oxford and did occasional classes at the Ruskin School of Art). He bravely includes himself in a life-size, nude portrait.

What Reid lacks in technique, he more than makes up for in empathy, intelligence, conception and dedicated hard work.

Until December 20