Whether you’re gay or straight, you’re guaranteed some pants-dropping fun at NYC Gay Pride—it’s the closest thing to Mardi Gras New York will ever have. I myself checked out the parade of drag queens with nicer legs than me (and walking forty blocks in 4 inch heels no less!). During a momentary lull in the procession, my mind wandered to my blogging duties. What will I write about this week? I was pulled out of my reverie by the pasties on one madam’s very nice implants. Hmm, what about gay art?
Well, what exactly is gay art? I googled “gay art,” and my first few clicks brought me to some truly kitschy, borderline pornographic portraits of musclemen. After some specifying of my search terms (“gay art new york gallery”) I was directed to the Leslie-Lohman Gay Art Foundation and Gallery.
In the Foundation’s own words, it “is a non-profits arts cultural institution established in 1990 to be a safe haven for that art which is often excluded from main stream exhibitions and textbooks and looked upon as taboo or less than important” by historians and critics. “We at Leslie/Lohman,” says the website, “are doing our part by seeking out those artists who exhibit the knowledge, desire and skills to achieve a recognition that gay and lesbian art exists not in a vacuum but as an integral part of art history.”
The art selections on the website were quite unexpected: a vast majority of them are, in fact, still mildly kitschy and graphic, one might even say pornographic. That is not to say some of the art isn’t decent, but I now started to think about this definition of “gay art.” Why does a gay aesthetic have to be so aggressively sexual?
This also made me reflect on other artists in minority groups—what about black artists? Is there a “black art” that solely expresses or focuses on the black experience? Of course, lots of art by African American artists addresses highly political and personal experiences specific to the black community—an obvious example would be Kara Walker’s powerful silhouettes. Are they part of an aesthetic one would call “black” because they reference a quintessential moment of African American history (slavery) and takes it to the most extreme level, as with gay art?
The more appropriate comparison might be to feminist art. With the feminist movement of the late 60s and early 70s, women artists created socially-minded works that were undeniably gendered, reflecting women’s experiences. But some would argue that the biggest stride for female artists’ equality was when they were finally viewed as simply artists, not women artists, defined by their gender. Isn’t that what the gay rights movement fights for? To be regarded as individuals first, and not be defined strictly by their sexuality? One example of an artist who happens to be gay (and a sell out—yes, I said it. Pawning the rights to all your photography to pay for the mortgage on your mansion?), is Annie Lebovitz. Her sexuality hardly defines her artistic output, and she’s one of the most famous photographers in the world.
I wonder, then, if such graphic images help or hurt the general gay rights movement: will bible-thumping conservatives change their single-minded conceptions of gays as sex-crazed deviants who threaten the sanctity of marriage, when “gay art” itself seems to largely (if not strictly) focus on the gay sexual experience? I haven’t quite come to a conclusion about how I feel about this art genre—I understand this is a controversial issue, and I am open to anyone’s thoughts and comments.
Lyle Gerts, Immaculate Enchanter, Pastel
Gilbert Lewis (1945 - ), Swimmer, 1984
2 years ago | Tags: gay art Leslie-Lohman Gay Art Foundation homosexuality art new york city nyc art gallery
