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
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.
It's not hard to find aesthetic similarities between Vancouver sextet They Shoot Horses Don't They? and the 1969 Jane Fonda vehicle of the same name. The film centers on Fonda and fellow townspeople desperately trying to win the cash prize at a Depression-era dance marathon. The event lasts days, with the final contestants dragging their partners along the boards past the limits of exhaustion and sanity. The British Columbia band's brand of blown-out oompah-core, seemingly born out of similarly sleepless frenzy, could be a perfect score for those scenes. Well known for pulling out the stops live, They Shoot Horses doesn't rely on cultivating dynamics as much as atom-smashing their influences into one propulsive, shambling sonic wave. Trademark horn stabs, cream-textured guitar sustain, and a vocalist barking through snot-filled sinuses make up the bands arsenal, but it does have its more delicate moments. Some of the tracks on its new album, Pick up Sticks, resemble the brass-infused, frayed-folk tinges of Neutral Milk Hotel, if you can imagine that band going through a disco-era, powder-on-the-console phase.
Tue., Aug. 28, 9:30 p.m.