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
With neighborhood institutions like the 21 Club closing to make way for yuppie cocktail bars, Brown Jug remains an oasis — and one that takes full advantage of the state's operating hours window, 6 a.m. to 2 a.m. daily.
I half expected Theatre Rhino's season opener to be an updated or revisited version of that cool, hippied-out Broadway musical from the 1960s about a group of young people coming of age in an era of war and rebellion. But Hairstory has nil to do with Hair -- or anything else, for that matter, besides the obvious subject of human dermatological outgrowth. At the start, a local barbershop owner named Moxie has just died, and five of his employees have gathered together in his salon to commemorate his passing with an evening of reminiscing and storytelling. There's little plot involved in these proceedings, which include two acts of 17 musical numbers, and the characters are as stereotypical as they get: the flaming young hottie (Jerry Van Carlos Gore), the bleached-hair queen (Trent Morant), the single bartender in a muscle T (Henry Lee), etc. The cast members appear to have been chosen primarily for their vocal strengths, which is OK given that the bulk of the show is song. Unfortunately, most of the songs are unoriginal and poorly written, and the book is no better. The play's supposedly based on interviews with people about their hair -- but writers Johari Jabir and Doug Holsclaw are no Eve Ensler or Anna Deavere Smith when it comes to docudrama. Like the Rhino's typical fare, Hairstory is silly and campy, but that's its genre, not its problem; its real downfall is the mediocrity of the script, which can make it hard to tell when the play's trying to be serious vs. when it's making fun of itself. The show works best when it's delivering flat-out satire, as it does with tunes like "Ontological Afro" (a fun number sung by the entire cast, clad in enormous Afro wigs) and "Fine Tooth Comb" (a melodic worship to woman's most orgasmic beauty tool). Both feature Kathleen Antonio -- as Celeste, the gossiping beauty -- whose strong vocals, stage presence, and nuanced performance make her the highlight of the evening. Antonio does what she can (as do all the cast members) to hold the production together, but the ensemble is up against a lot, not least of which is awkward, inconsistent direction. For some reason, the Rhino's subscriber-based audience seems to enjoy this feel-good fluff. Riveting it's not, but I guess we all need a little silliness sometimes.