Faith, Desire, Erasure: Portraits Of Queer Muslim Life

Photographer Camille Farrah Lenain’s work often begins with questions. Take her latest photo series, Made Of Smokeless Fire: an intimate portrait of queer Muslim life in France, which serves an exploration of questions that went unasked; of answers that never came.

“Made Of Smokeless Fire is an homage to my uncle Farid, who passed away in 2013. We lost him tragically, and with him went so many conversations we never had,” she says. “I found myself sitting with questions for him: Farid, did you still believe in Allah? Did you ever come out to your parents? What did it feel like in your body when you found out you had Aids? Did you ever find your place, being queer and Arab in France?”

Now, the French Algerian photographer is seeking the answers through her craft. “I realised there was very little representation of queer Arabs and/or Muslims in France, although it is home to the largest proportion of Muslims in the Western world. This led me to meet queer Muslim people whose stories, generosity and trust helped me find my way back to Farid – and to parts of myself I was still discovering,” she says.

Camille encountered her subjects across the country: at Pride in Paris, queer ftour gatherings; at a spiritual retreat in Marseille, although not everyone was ready (or able) to be recognised. “Rather than seeing anonymity as a limitation,” she says, “it became an invitation to think differently about portraiture.”

Now, the series has been turned into a book, with the project returning to Marseille for a series of exhibitions and gatherings at Solarium (until 16 July). 

“I was walking through the Le Panier in Marseille when this scene happened before my eyes. I immediately thought of the title of my book, Made Of Smokeless Fire, in reference to the djinns in Islamic mythology,” says Camille. “A significant part of making this project wasn’t just photographing people, it was also paying attention to the world around me.”

“During our portrait session, RS suddenly traced the Amazigh symbol on their hands – also known as Yaz, a symbol representing the Amazigh people across Algeria and North Africa that has come to embody freedom and free people,” says Camille. “After a long conversation about the challenges of being gay within Muslim families, this spontaneous gesture felt cathartic.” 

“Like a lot of gay lives, it’s not an easy life,” says Bouchta, who was photographed in Marseille. “We’re always looking for a little quiet corner to preserve ourselves. This photo is a separate universe that we all have within us: a closet, a trunk, a drawer. It’s past, present and future. It is eternal.”

“The two pictured here [left] are engaged, and one of them converted to Islam,” says Camille. “There is still little representation of queer Muslims in relationships, and little guidance around how to build and sustain a healthy relationship within an intersection that is constantly being challenged – from within families, communities and society at large.”

“Lamine was one of those magical encounters where we spoke for hours. They were young, yet I was deeply moved by the wisdom with which they reflected on their life. Sadly, Lamine passed away in 2023. Made Of Smokeless Fire is also dedicated to their memory.” 

Made of Smokeless Fire by Camille Farrah Lenain is published by Loose Joints. The exhibition is at Solarium, Marseille, until 16 July.