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
The island trend of Hawaiian-style poke, or raw fish/seafood dressed with a variety of sauces and fresh toppings, has been kicking around the West Coast mainland for a while, particularly in Los Angeles, where its lean protein-rich nature is a big hit with the diet and camera conscious.
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.
Loveland, Ohio, is the birthplace for two wonders of the unnatural world: the Loveland Frog, a 4-foot-tall creature that is equal parts human and lizard, and comedian Ann Randolph. Though you might presume the frog is the stranger phenomenon, don't rule out the human just yet. Randolph's case? First, she is certifiably Mel Brooksapproved (only Dame Edith Sitwell bestowed a shinier sword of eccentricity). The wildly weird creator of Get Smart, The Producers, and Young Frankenstein coproduced Randolph's off-broadway solo show, Squeeze Box, in 2002. Also, there's the manic energy Randolph brings to her chillingly precise characters: accordion players, harlots, rednecks freaks and geeks, mostly. Randolph's follow-up to Squeeze Box is Loveland. She embodies performance artist Franny Potts on a flight from L.A. to Ohio, where she will attend her mother's funeral. Opinionated, ribald, and approaching a nervous breakdown, Franny is the last person you want to find yourself next to on a transcontinental flight. Among the passengers on the plane are a flatfooted businessman and a nonplussed "stewardess." Randolph's attention to her cast's inner banality marks a new maturity in her work, as does the nimble handling of her tricky theme death. Brooks said of Randolph, "She's a bit of a genius [the way] she goes in and out of these characters."
Fridays, Saturdays; Saturdays; Fridays, Saturdays; Sundays. Starts: Feb. 4. Continues through May 8, 2011