Out for Blood

A priest. A soldier. A refugee. The seven-foot-tall ruby surface of Jordan Eagles’s Blood Mirror reflects more than the untold stories of the nine gay, bisexual, and transgender men who donated their blood for the monolithic sculpture; it also speaks to an equality that is both transcendent and primal.

“Blood has been a part of our artistic and cultural upbringing before we were even a country,” Eagles says. “Human evolution, who we are as people, places a deep value in blood.”

Conceived and created over two years, the sculpture—on view at Trinity Church November 2–December 1—protests the FDA’s longtime ban on blood donations by men who have had sex with men since 1977. “When we as gay people are banned from taking part in that, that speaks to us as humans,” Eagles says. “This piece allows us a sensitivity that we are all one in our blood.”

For years, Eagles has been slightly notorious for the resin-preserved animal blood he uses in his paintings and other works. But Blood Mirror pushes the artist into a significantly gorier arena: politics. He spent a year learning everything he could about the FDA’s policy before starting the piece, interviewing experts and exploring its impact. “I had no experience in social-based work,” he says. “I asked myself, ‘Do I want to do this through art? Do I think it would make a difference?’”

Eagles eventually put together a creative and medical team, organized blood donations, and constructed the piece. But even as he worked, the ground shifted under his feet. Earlier this year, the FDA began allowing gay and bisexual men to donate blood—if they remain celibate for one year. That particular requirement ignited a new passion in Eagles.

“The science behind a lifetime ban makes no sense, but does a one-year ban make any more sense?” he asks. “One year is basically a lifetime ban when you’re asking gay and bisexual men not to have sex! It seems even more insulting—another way of policing gay sex.”

Even worse is the continued association of queer blood with one of the world’s deadliest viruses—a metaphor that Eagles believes the one-year celibacy requirement reinforces.

“The government is making a stance on gay blood,” he says. “They are adding to the stigma that HIV and AIDS are only a gay issue. It is a global issue, with global health consequences.”

With today’s advances in blood screening, Eagles believes a waiting period is pointless and wants to share that social message with his community. Unfortunately, getting the right attention can be a problem—even with a seven-foot column of human blood. During Blood Mirror’s tenure in Washington, D.C., a panel discussion on the ban was held and the FDA invited, but the agency declined to send a representative.

Eagles sees Blood Mirror’s upcoming exhibition in lower Manhattan as a homecoming for the piece. “Trinity is different from a museum or some other neutral space. It’s a spiritual home for one of the donors, Rev. John Moody. This sculpture is one-ninth his. Having this piece shown at a church willing to stand by the gay community is really bold.”

While there, he hopes the sculpture will continue the work started in Washington—reflecting and revealing the small injustices that, left ignored, continue to deny queer men their true freedom.

“The great thing about art is it doesn’t ever have to be right,” he says. “Policy has to be right. Art just has to offer a platform for a conversation. Blood Mirror can anchor a moment for us to gather and have a conversation.”