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
For someone who lives in the downtown corridor — all right, the Tenderloin — the idea of going to Ocean Beach for pizza is rife with potential pratfalls: high Uber fares, lengthy Muni trips, ever-present fog, jet lag.
When employees at a store asks if they can help you find anything, it's usually a meaningless gesture, or at worst, a threat of surveillance, but when Dick Vivian asks you what you're looking for when you walk into Rooky Ricardo's Records, he wants to help you find the funkiest, silkiest tunes he has — of which he has a lot.
The virtuoso sample artists with the wit of juvenile schoolboys of Cassetteboy are back -- and they're coming for our president. The English duo's debut, The Parker Tapes, turned seven years' labor splicing tapes and sampling TV into a masterpiece that was equal parts aural collage, vicious political satire, and tits and ass jokes. The two promoted it on the road dressed as George Bush and Tony Blair, dancing and fake-fellating each other, and the backing tracks for those shows form the bulk of Dead Horse, an album that's blunter than Parker and almost as funny. Through the magic of editing, Michael Jackson sings about little boys, Bill Cosby pushes drugs, Harry Potter strokes his "large purple prick," and Bush and Blair admit they're "murderous gangsters" -- but they get what they deserve in the end. Here's hoping life imitates fart.