‘Somebody is always obscured by the winner of history’: Stan Douglas considers race, gender and power in London

Stan Douglas is concerned with moments in history, both real, and fictionalised from true events. How has the overlooked impacted the present day, and what can we discover about ourselves? How can we deepen our understanding of how race, gender and power impact us today?

'I always had this idea that photography arose because the bourgeois wanted self-representation,' Douglas tells us. 'They didn't want [only] the church or aristocracy to have the means to represent themselves [through painted portraits], and photography was a way of doing that. It's kind of odd that it happened in so many countries simultaneously, around 1830, and that this medium was invented so people could make their own images automatically.'

Douglas uses film and photography to zero in on art, film, music and events, interrogating a meaning that often pertains to identity. In analysing how these things have been interpreted, he often draws out overlooked truths and reveals how the passing of time has altered the original material, questioning popular interpretations of events that in some cases have become cultural touchstones. Past works include 2011 ≠ 1848, Mare Street and Pembury Estate, which looked at the UK riots in 2011; and Luanda-Kinshasa (2013), an installation showing an imagined jazz recording session and referencing the impact of jazz and Black musicians working in Europe in the 1970s.

‘I’m looking for liminal moments, things which were pivotal in a certain condition. Often, some things are obscure or unknown, moments which represent a turning point in history but are little understood,' Douglas explains over video chat. 'Somebody has been obscured by the winner of history, and it is the rest of that moment which I'm looking at.'

He looks for moments in history that can represent a lost truth of that specific time. 'Often I'll have been trying to find an analogue between the visual representation in the installations and the condition I'm trying to represent, certain ideas for visible mechanisms and protection strategies that have no real purpose. I then come across a subject that I find interesting and realise that is the perfect thing for this idea. I can put those two things together and work for that.'

His exhibition at London’s Victoria Miro Gallery, ‘Stan Douglas: Birth of a Nation and The Enemy of All Mankind’ takes two works of fiction, a play and a film and reconstructs them. Enemy of All Mankind: Nine Scenes from John Gay’s looks at the satirical play Polly (1729), the sequel to John Gay’s The Beggar’s Opera that was never performed in his lifetime. The story follows the character Macheath from the West Indies, where he disguises himself as a Black man on the run. He is pursued across the world by Polly Peachum, who in turn disguises herself as a man to avoid abuse while in service. Macheath ends up being executed by indigenous King Pohetohee, working on behalf of the colonial power, whereas Polly reveals her identity and marries the king’s son.

‘Polly shifts through these different identities and it describes how things like race and gender are all performative in some way, and I found that to be quite interesting,' Douglas says. 'The people who are the aristocrats on the island, the colonisers, distinguish themselves from the ones who were not. It's a very, very false identity, and it plays with all those tropes, which may be why it was banned in the lifetime of John Gay. It was never performed in his lifetime, because the powers that be knew he would be satirising their colonial ambitions and their authority.'

Douglas’ staged photographic works that explore Polly show key moments in the story – Macheath’s death, Polly’s decision to disguise herself and an image of an empty stage. In highlighting the performative nature of imposed hierarchies, Douglas reveals their emptiness. The immaculately realised images are staged to perfection, and lit immaculately, creating a narrative that highlights the controversies within Polly.

The photographs sit alongside the multi-channel film work Birth of a Nation, which deals with the racist classic film. Despite its heroising of the Ku Klux Klan and base depictions of Black people, it is still studied routinely, as its makers pioneered much of modern filmmaking in its production.

‘They both address identity in a certain way, or identification in a certain way. Certain groups identifying as being another: one being superior, one being inferior,' says Douglas, explaining the works’ juxtaposition.

A section of the original film plays, which shows an actor in blackface playing ‘Gus’, declaring his affection for a white woman who then throws herself off a cliff. Gus is then put to trial by the KKK and lynched. Two other versions of the film play with the original: deft in their alignment, they throw into relief both the beauty and the egregiousness of the original film.

'It can be uncanny when you see these two things which are the same but different; it’s this doppelgänger effect,' says Douglas. 'My take is to look at the racist fantasy of the character Gus, who's a white man in blackface in the original, and then break it up into two new characters of my invention. Sam and Tom (played by Black actors) are encountered by the two white characters, Ben and Flora, in different ways.'

The short work may reveal how shocking the original film is by contemporary standards, but it also serves as a chilling reminder of how recently it was made. In the context of the rise of far-right politics in the United States, the impact of the work is profoundly disturbing. In forcing us to compare representations of Blackness and gender, these works show us both where we have been and where we are at.

Stan Douglas is at Victoria Miro until 1 November 2025, victoria-miro.com

Read our guide to more of the best London art exhibitions to see this month