Category Archives: Homoerotic

Homoerotic issues and themes

At the Core of a Creative Existence

I watched an interesting movie yesterday while I was moping about, called Séraphine. It was a French movie about an average woman, leading a life of hardships, doing whatever jobs possible in 1927 France and who had a passion for painting. She thought she was given a blessing by god that pushed her to follow her gifts. She did not really understand why or where the divine inspiration actually came from, but was compelled to paint at whatever the cost. She was a middle-aged woman, older than myself, living in a place and time of poverty. Yet she found the greatest joy in nature and collected items from her environment to temper and color her paint, blood from a cow liver, mud from a creek, flowering plants by the roadside. She brought these elements into her small one room living space and spent the nights grinding these items into her paints, then created amazing images of that nature in vivid almost childlike impressions. The woman who played Séraphine Louis (Yolande Moreau) was mesmerizing at bringing such honesty and truth to the character. In the end she is discovered as an old lady. The success drove her mad, and she spends her last 10 years in an asylum, disconnected from nature and painting as her imagery becomes legendary.

I saw so many parallels between Séraphine and myself. For many years I have worked in a world of seclusion, being compelled to create something that I never quite understood. I have worked many jobs, just trying to make a living in order to survive. I know my desire is for the naked male, it is my divine inspiration. My connection to my own desires is so strong it often becomes intoxicating. Yes, I know gay men are supposed to become obsessed by sex and the flesh, but somehow it’s not the sex that I am drawn to, it the emotional feelings and what is stirred within those moments before or after sex that I am most fascinated with. It almost seems, to physically touch someone dispels the allure and the touch often leads where I have been so many times before, becoming lost or blinded by its emotional entanglement. I caress my subjects not with my hands, but with the light. I adore their beauty, idolize their skin for its soft silky textures and the way the light glistens on the nape of their neck. Sex is actually the furthest thing from my mind when I am shooting. Sure there are those moments when I become aroused by the process, and it is those moments when I know my images will gain their greatest potency, because I am truly in touch with the erotic core of my process. As Séraphine brought her connection to nature into her vision, I bring that world of sensuality and seduction I have known and longed for into my vision. I realize now it has been the core of my life. I am romantic at heart, I have always been romantic. I spend my nights grinding all the elements of my existence into the tools of my pallet. I have yet to make any money on this process and live my life on the edge of finical struggle. I have the skills, talents and tools to create something that is more viable and commercial, but then it’s really not my vision anymore and becomes something created for others. Though my style and approaches have changed, I am still true to myself and it still remains the journey into myself. I do fear the influence success could have on what I do and I think in many ways it sort of holds me in this place struggling to survive. I am the most content when I am creating. Though my focus is shifting toward self promotion, I still can step back into my world of beautiful light and find the security of those remarkable highly intimate moments with my subjects when the ordinary is allowed to become extraordinary.

The Dismemberment of the Peni (s)

I have spent this weekend in contact with John Douglas in Australia coming up with a plan or an idea to begin a new social network based on male nude or erotic art. He was the original founder of a site called Man Art, which is where I first began to show my images a year ago May and really what has lead me to here. Followers of the Blog will remember that Man Art was shut down last spring due to censorship issues on the server hosting it. Men on the Verge of  a Pornographic Extinction I am now working with a Webmaster who has his own server and the whole thing has become private so there should be no possibility of censorship. It seems the distinction between pornography and art is often blurred. But to the people creating it, the ability to express one’s self, those lines are quite clear. And sure sometimes we push those boundaries, but that’s what a true exploration of artistic expression is. If we did the same things all the time it would become boring and our work stagnate. As artist we need to constantly be challenging our selves and the way we examine our existence. And to have that social network in one common place where we can interact and feed each other is essential. For many years I worked in a hidden world. I knew what it was I wanted to do, but creating such art in a place like Montana was totally unacceptable and still taboo. But in all honest the naked male form is still taboo in most parts of the world. It’s funny that a man taking his cloths off in a football stadium faces sieve legal action while everywhere I wandered in Paris I saw open displays of statuary of full frontal exposed male nudity in most every public park. Unfortunately the private parts have been chiseled off some of the most remarkable pieces by various religions through out history that found that item of the male anatomy unacceptable. But gazing at the remarkable beauty of those statues where those bits still remained in tact it really doesn’t become the focus of the art. It actually has the opposite effect, because we are more drawn to what was removed. After centuries of growth and enlightenment we live in a world where people are still trying to dismember the penis. For god’s sake it’s a part of who we are, half of the world has a penis. I digress.

The one thing that is missing from the Internet is this social network of artist who can share their common idealism, unafraid. I still see people being censored on Facebook and my own account deactivate earlier this year. I dream, I dream of a place where all men are created equal, a place where we can express and explore our true identities, idealism and feelings without fear of being emasculated.

Requiem of a Dream

I began to realize yesterday what a dream life I have. I am creating and living in a fantasy world that many people only dare dream to enter. Though some of the imagery may not always be that interesting, it is the process of creating it and the connection to the subjects that is really the fascinating part of this type of work. Since my regular work schedule has now shifted from mid afternoon to early evening, I am having to shift my shooting schedule to later evenings. There is something about shooting in a dark studio that becomes seductive and alluring. I mostly use a strobe system that over powers all light so it does not matter if I am shooting in a studio filled with daylight or at night only using the modeling lights from the strobes. I know the effect and how the light works so well, that I can perfect it without even seeing the actual results on the subject. But at night when the subjects are surrounded by darkness and they can only see themselves in the mirror across the room in the beautiful light I have bathed them in, something magical begins to emerge from their personalities as their inhibitions begin to drop. I tend to choose music that many people do not know, that has a hypnotic quality to it that allows the subjects to become lost and delve deeper within themselves. When the subject looks away and becomes unaware of my presence in the space and lets go of themselves these become moments I really look to capture.

Last night I was working with a 24 year old guy on the subject of alluring glances. That moment when you are in a dark, possibly a crowded space, and see someone across the room you desire, how you target your entire being into pulling them in and seducing them with a look. Once they connect, the hunt is on and the more powerful that seduction intensifies, through our eyes and body. At first I found it difficult to relate this concept to a 24 year old, because it’s not the way the younger generation connects anymore, but it was of my generation. But he soon got where I was trying to get and his alluring nature became intoxicating. The balance of light, the beautiful rugged texture of his clothing made me long to reach out and touch him, to hold him, to desire him, to pull him closer to me, and to enter his world physically, emotionally and mentally. It is this moment where the reality blurs into a sort of dream state, where all our senses become heightened and that passion of desire begin to reveal itself. When the photographer and subject can connect to each other on this level the imagery becomes very powerful, even to the unknown subjects who will eventually view these images. These are the moments I have always longed for and found most captivating within my own life. These are the moments I was most keenly aware of how powerful my presence and seduction was to others. It was a moment where the magnetism drew us closer, strangers in a dark lust, disrobing each other with our eyes, risking everything to expose our souls to someone else. Sometimes we have the courage to pursue it and cross the room to make that connection, but more often than not we don’t because we are inhibited by our insecurities. But the moment of that first glance, more often when we don’t connect with them in those sorts of situations, is what leaves an impression that sometimes can linger in our thoughts for a lifetime. I am at my prime when I reach this moment of memory in my photography when I can commit it to my imagery and that dream becomes a reality to someone else viewing.

When I met Glenn, 14 years ago, in this same sort of situation, and we were both young men, I remember vividly this is what pulled us together. That first kiss in the middle of a crowded room was breathless and the world around us stopped. It’s was that moment in West Side Story where Tony and Maria, who shouldn’t be together, do come together and the magic glow of a dream defying all odds begins. Unfortunately, that one ended in tragedy, but the beauty of that moment lingers forever and it’s what we remember most about the story and become haunted by, in the histories of our own memories.

Does showing a man’s penis make an image pornographic?

When I was first getting into photography and still shooting on film, I had a young gay man come into my studio whom I wanted to shoot nude.   He was very excited by the prospect of seeing what we could create together.  His only stipulation was that he did not want any pictures where he would be naked and show his face in the same image.  He was okay with doing nude torso images from the neck down or face pictures from the waist up.   I agreed and said I would work within those parameters.   Hey, I had a live model who was willing to strip down and allow me to light and explore him naked through my photographic process.

He had a classic form and moved and stood in such a way that I knew would be reminiscent of a Greek sculpture.  I worked very hard to create a lighting design that would make him look fantastic. We had an amazing session and both were excited by what we had created.   I processed the film and printed the contact sheets.  Though the images on the contact sheets were raw still, but I could visualize the beauty which would emerge from the prints.   I called the kid and arranged a meeting, excited to show him what we had created.   When he saw the contact sheets, he too was excited and seemed quite pleased.  I gave him a set to take home because he had a boyfriend he wanted to show.   I headed back into the darkroom and began to work on one of the images. It totally began to come to life.   I printed it on a beautiful flat silver gelatin paper so that the tones and flesh had a smooth velvety finish that looked as if they were actually emerging from the darkness.  Everything fell exactly where I knew it would.  The print was remarkable.  I felt like I had created a masterpiece that could hang in someone’s bathroom, or in an open space, or maybe even a gallery – very classic in its pose, form, and structure.  To me it represented perfection for this type of image.  It captured the essence of the pictorialist style of the photo-secessionists from the early 1900s.   I had been studying the photographers and the movement from this era and was particularly drawn to the images of Fred Holland Day.   I had succeeded on every level to create his style of imagery.  In structure, light fall-off, and soft focus beauty on the flat paper.

I called the kid back and told him what a remarkable image we had created.  I immediately knew something was wrong by the tone of his voice.  He did not want to see the image and did not want to work again because he had shown the image to his boyfriend who said it was pornographic.  His boyfriend did not think he should lower himself to the standards of creating porn.  I was stunned and shocked.   It really got me questioning the distinctions between art and pornography.  It has been a question that has haunted me for most of my photographic career.   In my mind’s eye I had created a remarkable piece of art, yet someone else had seen it as pornographic.   Because there is a penis in the image, does it automatically become pornography?  In a sense, this kind of hurt me creatively.  I felt like I was heading in a positive direction and this reaction made me fearful of asking anyone to pose naked again.  If people saw what I was doing as porn, I would get that kind of reputation, and it would kill any chances of finding models to work with, in our small town.   It also put doubt in my approach and stirred a question in the back of my mind every time I worked with nude images thereafter.  It took me a long time to ask someone to pose nude again.

The kid never saw the final image.  I put it away in a box to be lost with other worthless images I had created.  Now to be pulled out many years later and finally shown here today.  Wow, what was I thinking?  How could I allow someone else to influence such a great part of my creativity and hinder my creative process.