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
Mashing up different world cuisines is usually a popular conceit for new quick-service eateries and food trucks to make a quick buck and gain Instagram fame, but Volta has shown how well global cross-pollination works on a refined plate without stretching for novelty or pretense in the process.
Despite the right wing's renewed push for "family values," the perfect American family -- with happily married Mom and Dad and well-behaved little Dick and Jane -- never actually existed. If this is news to you (or if your mom really was June Cleaver), then Jon Klein's 1995 play, presented by Ambit Theater Company, will be a real eye-opener. Structured like a sitcom with short scenes, the work focuses on a decidedly typical white family with predictable problems: Daughter Christine (Riki Lindhome) acts out in school, Dad (Bob Lieberman) is having an affair, and Mom (Sondra Putnam) feels everything's her fault. For a piece that proposes to debunk the sitcom myth, the characters are frustratingly stereotypical. Dad's about as effective as Homer Simpson; his mistress and work partner Megan Lones (Angela Anderson) is portrayed as the trite single (and bisexual) female with a cat; and Mom is a neurotic mess who flirts with the school therapist (played the night I attended by the funny and subtle understudy Tom Juarez). What saves the play from banality are layers of unreality, as when Mom walks in on her husband and Megan just as Megan says, "Don't think about your wife." Or when Dr. Grey (Carol Flanagan), the physician for the family's hospitalized grandmother (whose "system is being threatened"), transforms into the grandmother to comfort Christine. Or when it appears the therapist is trying to give Christine a lobotomy with a power drill when he's really just sharpening a pencil. These ludicrous scenes make us question what is really happening onstage and work as "anti-sitcom" fodder, heightening those shows' ridiculous plot structure. Director Debbie Lynn Carriger made a smart choice in not changing the lighting for these scenes, which might have been heavy-handed. But these subversions become muddied by the sitcom ending, as we learn that Dad really does want the perfect family, and Mom decides not to blame herself anymore.