Director 
Honor Fraser Gallery
Los Angeles, CA

︎:Kit Karzen

Jamison Edgar (they/them) is a queer southerner living on stolen Tongva/Kizh/Chumash land.  They currently serves as the director at Honor Fraser Gallery, a cultural hub examining our entangled relationships with art, science, and technology.  As a visual artist, writer, and curator, Edgar facilitates cross-disciplinary projects of spectacular defiance and radical exuberance. Their airchive-oriented arts practice abstracts historical records and sculpts cultural memories in an effort to expose the complex machinery behind technologies of equity, visibility, and suppression.  Their most recent projects survey the invaluable role queer/trans, Black, brown, and indigenous communities play in shaping post-human imaginaries.

Edgar studied painting, video, and social practice at Carnegie Mellon University (MFA) as well as sculpture and art history at The University of Georgia (BFA). They have shown in solo and group exhibitions throughout the United States as well as London, Berlin, Singapore, and Budapest. Their writing has been published by the Miller Institute for Contemporary Art, Contemporary Performance, and the Estonian Pavilion at the 59th Venice Biennale. They are a 2023/2024 Supercollider Art+Sci Ambassador, and executive board member of the New Media Caucus (NMC). Their exhibtions have been featured in Artforum, Frieze, Forbes, Hyperallergic, Art Papers, Art Review, The Los Angeles Times, CARLA,  and NPR.

Below a thin layer of topsoil, the earth of my home state is red. The rust-colored clay of the American South is poor in nutrients, but its high pigmentation makes the dirt a powerful dye—one that stains water, skin, and jeans. I grew up learning where to find patches of the dense material, and how to craft potions of vinegar and salts to combat their sticky stains. When it became ill-mannered to play in the mud, however, I did not seem to notice. I stopped growing up and began to grow out of place. Unbeknownst to me, my queer body was marked in a way that vinegar could not erase—made prey to a different form of slow erosion.

As a visual artist, writer, and curator, I aim to stick to the normative and the unquestioned—allowing my sappy-faggy-queer affect to gunk up pillars of visible and invisible oppression. My projects are rhizomatic in form, style, and function, and guided by an intersectional study of technology,  race, gender, and ecology as articulated within the US American southeast/west. I focus this research using an arsenal of queer tactics for world-building and community organizing— flexing  my queer and southern vernacular to amplify stories of resistance, flourishing, and joy.

I work best in collaboration, and often find myself woven inbetween filmmakers, historians, archivists, data scientists, and performance artists. I cross-examine through contradictions and prioritize the accumulation of fragments as one productive model to disrupt racist, sexist, and xenophobic claims to knowledge production. I make painterly anti-monuments for what poet, Dana Ward, and essayist, Maggie Nelson, call, “the many-gendered mothers of my heart.” They are monuments to footsteps. Monuments to precarious gatherings. Monuments for communities who share secrets through the word of mouth. They are sexy. They are fuzzy. They are full of eyelashes and acrylic fingernails. They illuminate. They take up space…



This approach has led me to survey the scuffed floors of empty nightclubs; paint tabooed childhood desires; reenact archives of public gathering; embody algorithms of data possessing, and investigate the cultural effects of droughts. Most recently, I am working alongside queer and BIPOC members of the color guard community to trouble the history of American spectacle, and in 2022 founded the “Anzuldua-Green Botanical Refuge and Teaching Garden”— a roving cross-cultural  extension of my studio, devoted to the anti-colonial teachings of so-called “invasive” plant species.

︎:Nearest Neighbors, 2020
Kelly Strayhorn Theater (Pittsburgh, PA)