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
Some 23 years in the making, Ellen Kurass first film as a director is a portrait of Laotian refugee Thavisouk Phrasavath. The Betrayal (Nerakhoon) is also a haunting flashback to the lush green and fiery orange phantasmagoria of wartime Indochina. The son of a Laotian army officer, and a baby when the first U.S. advisors arrived in neighboring South Vietnam, Phrasavath grew up in the zone. He escaped Laos by himself at 12, swimming across the Mekong to Thailand and living for two years on the streets until his mother and siblings joined him. Long one of the independent film movements leading cinematographers, Kuras had yet to shoot anything when she discovered Phrasavath and his family living in a Brooklyn housing project and embarked upon their epic collaboration. Although she documented Phrasavaths life for over two decades, Kuras seems particularly fascinated by things that could not be filmed directly. The Betrayal eschews straightforward chronology, incorporating photographs of colonial Laos, TV footage of JFK, newsreels of the Ho Chi Minh Trail, bombs falling, towns burning, and clips from a Pathet Lao propaganda movie. The mode is free-associative, but the movies blunt accusatory title fits multiple periods of its subjects life. The Betrayal is refined, even delicate, filmmaking. Subtly off-speed and suffused with late-afternoon light, the movie weaves through time. Which is the dream, America or Laos? Impressionistic and lyrical, as well as somber and gripping, The Betrayal conveys a ceaseless flow. Its as if the filmmaker has opened a window onto a parallel world traveling beside our own.
Feb. 27-March 5, 2009