While they often presented themselves as bodybuilders’ publications, their chuckle-prompting titles — Torso, Adonis, Honcho, Mandate — didn’t lie. Gay men’s magazines of decades past were bought by gay men who wanted to look at the erotic illustrations of well- built male bodies therein. Because any- one known to possess such material in the homophobic 1950s and 1960s could experience serious consequences, men hid the magazines under their mat- tresses. These illustrations have now inspired a traveling exhibition, Stroke: From Under the Mattress to the Museum Wall. Curated by notable erotic artist Robert W. Richards and orig- inating at the Leslie-Lohman Museum of Gay and Lesbian Art, the popular show contains 24 original illustrations that ap- peared in gay magazines from the 1950s to the 1990s. It also looks at how gay men, forced into the closet during those decades, used these pictures to explore their sexuality intimately. It additionally serves as a showcase for the artists in- volved. On view are works by two dozen top artists of the times, including Touko Laaksonen (Tom of Finland), Antonio Lopez (Antonio), and David Martin.More
Producer, writer, and activist who produced shows like All in the Family, Sanford and Son, and Maude, is awarded the 2016 Freedom of Expression Award after a screening of the new documentary Norman Lear: Just Another Version of You.More
At the main festival ground on Saturday July 23rd and Sunday July 24th at Fort Mason Center, we welcome many celebrities from Japan, including WORLD ORDER, Silent Siren, Wednesday Campanella, GARNiDELiA, Mitz Mangrove, and many more, and we will also host a variety of events, including J-POP LIVE concerts, Meet & Greet sessions, Q&A with special guests, Interactive Summit, Travel Pavilion, Ramen & Sake Summit, dance, karaoke,cosplay and'J-POP Queen' drag contests.More
The first skit in Thunderbird Theatre's horrifying Night of Terror gives us a couple of burnt-out '60s rock stars, Donovan and Ringo Starr, who learn about a death-metal band called Grandpa's Bloody Diaper and, to save civilization, embark on a Tarantino-style killing spree with a sword and a semiautomatic pistol. The sword is explained by the fact that Donovan is now a kilt-wearing bipolar Scots nationalist obsessed with the lost race of "Atlanteans" (citizens of Atlantis, who may have built Stonehenge) and aligns his religious ideas -- and choice of weaponry -- with an ancient superior culture. As a finale, Ringo slips out of character and orders the skit's author, Brice W. Harris IV, onstage to complain about the script. This metatheatrical touch gives the audience hope that the members of Thunderbird know how bad the writing is, intend to do better with the next piece, and generally want to offer a nice evening of postmodern Grand Guignol. But no: The acting and writing never improve. Except for Brian Raffi's performance as a lunatic called "Aluminum Hat Man," the show is a terrific example of what Peter Brook meant by "deadly theater." One skit lacerates local TV news coverage by proposing a station that murders its own journalists for ratings. Another presents two prostitutes working an airport lounge who meet all kinds of freaks, including the Aluminum Hat Man, an armless bartender, and President Bush. The big finish is a thing about Razi Hara, or Beelzebub, getting conjured by teenage American Satanists. It's meant to be funny in a Mad TV kind of way, but it plays more like a giddy race to the bottom, with nobody chasing.