Lonesome Cowboys

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Years before Brokeback Mountain, and a few years before The Place of Dead Roads, another pair of gay cowboys were causing a stir on a T-shirt in the SEX boutique, London, a shop run by Malcolm McLaren and Vivienne Westwood in the mid-1970s. Paul Gorman’s latest piece of pop archaeology examines the history and possible genesis of this shirt, one of a number designed by McLaren whose challenging nature made them ideal gear for the first wave of London’s punks. SEX specialised in transgression (and was famously the birthplace of the Sex Pistols), selling fetish and bondage clothing, and with a variety of erotic material on its hand-made shirts. But it was the Cowboys image which caused the most fuss in 1975 when the shop-owners were prosecuted for “exposing to public view an indecent exhibition”, a piece of police action that was all-too-common during that decade, especially where punks were concerned. McLaren’s cowboys might seem quaint today but in 1975 this was a shocking image for a country which had only decriminalised homosexual acts eight years before, and where the only gay people in the media (although they never admitted it) were camp comedians and flamboyant sitcom stereotypes.

So much for the history but we still don’t know the origin of the picture. Paul has his own theories; mine would be that McLaren borrowed this from one of the many gay mags which proliferated post-Stonewall. It’s not a Tom of Finland drawing, and it’s not George Quaintance either, an artist who drew many naked cowboys but never showed any genitalia. Vivienne Westwood still sells a version of the shirt: yours for ninety quid, dearie. Meanwhile, you can see a couple of the original Lonesome Cowboys here.

Update: That didn’t take long… It was Jim French after all. Paul has the details.

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The gay artists archive

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More Queer Noise

Weekend links 58

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Oya by Alberto del Pozo (1945–1992). Also known as Yansa, Oya is Changó’s third wife. She is the goddess of the winds and of lightning and is mistress of the cemetery gates. Passionate and brave she fights by her husband’s side if needed. Her favorite offerings are papaya, eggplant and geraniums. From Santeria at BibliOdyssey.

Austin Osman Spare is a good example of the dictum that quality will out in the end, no matter how long it remains buried. Overlooked by the art establishment after he retreated into his private mythologies, a substantial portion of his output was equally ignored by occultists who wanted to preserve him as a weird and scary working-class magus. One group dismissed his deeply-felt spiritual interests in a manner they wouldn’t dare employ if he’d been a follower of Santeria, say (or even a devout Christian), while the other group seemed to regard his superb portraits as too mundane to be worthy of attention. Now that Phil Baker’s Spare biography has been published by Strange Attractor we might have reached the end of such short-sighted appraisals and can finally see a more rounded picture of the man and his work:

[Kenneth] Grant preserved and magnified Spare’s own tendency to confabulation, giving him the starring role in stories further influenced by Grant’s own reading of visionary and pulp writers such as Arthur Machen, HP Lovecraft, and Fu Manchu creator Sax Rohmer. Grant’s Spare seems to inhabit a parallel London; a city with an alchemist in Islington, a mysterious Chinese dream-control cult in Stockwell, and a small shop with a labyrinthine basement complex, its grottoes decorated by Spare, where a magical lodge holds meetings. This shop – then a furrier, now an Islamic bookshop, near Baker Street – really existed, and part of the fascination of Grant’s version of Spare’s London is its misty overlap with reality.

Austin Osman Spare: Cockney visionary by Phil Baker.

Austin Osman Spare: The man art history left behind | A Flickr set: Austin Osman Spare at the Cuming Museum | HV Morton meets Austin Spare (1927).

• More quality rising from obscurity: Jerzy Skolimowski’s Deep End. Skolimowski’s drama is one of unpleasant characters behaving badly towards each other. Anglo-American cinema featured a great deal of this in the 1970s when filmmakers disregarded the sympathies of their audience in a manner that would be difficult today. John Patterson looks at another example which is also given a re-release this month, the “feral, minatory and menacing masterwork” that is Taxi Driver.

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Echú Eleguá by Alberto del Pozo. Among the most ancient of the orishas Echú Eleguá is the messenger of the gods, who forges roads, protects the house, and is heaven’s gate-keeper. In any ceremony he is invoked first. He owns all cowrie shells and is the god of luck. A prankster, Echú Eleguá frequently has a monkey and a black rooster by his side. Like a mischievous boy he enjoys gossip and must be pampered with offerings of toys, fruit, and candy.

Minutes, a compilation on the LTM label from 1987: William Burroughs, Jean Cocteau, Tuxedomoon, Jacques Derrida, The Monochrome Set, and er…Richard Jobson. Thomi Wroblewski designed covers for a number of Burroughs titles in the 1980s, and he also provided the cover art for this release.

Mikel Marton Photography: a Tumblr of erotic photography and self-portraits.

From Death Factory To Norfolk Fens: Chris & Cosey interviewed.

NASA announces results of epic space-time experiment.

Oritsunagumono by Takayuki Hori: origami x-rays.

Plexus magazine at 50 Watts.

Mother Sky (1970) by Can | Late For The Sky (1974) by Jackson Browne.

Deutsche Kunst und Dekoration #22

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Continuing the delve into back numbers of Deutsche Kunst und Dekoration, the German periodical of art and decoration. Volume 22 covers the period from April 1908 to September 1908, and the highlight of this issue is a series of ink drawings (above and below) by Carl Otto Czeschka, another member of the Wiener Werkstätte. Also in this edition is a feature on Gustav Klimt’s controversial Faculty Paintings. As usual, anyone wishing to see these samples in greater detail is advised to download the entire number at the Internet Archive. There’ll be more DK&D next week.

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Continue reading “Deutsche Kunst und Dekoration #22”

The mirror of Narcissus

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Browsing another fin de siècle magazine—Revue des Arts Décoratifs for 1897—turned up this design for a hand-mirror by Henri Nocq (or Henry as they also name him). Illustrational design was a common feature of the Art Nouveau period, and Nocq’s Narcissus-themed mirror is an ingenious confection complete with etched pond ripples, pearl-flowered lily pads, and even (though you can barely see it here) a carnelian frog. The body of the mirror was silver with narcissus flowers moulded into the obverse side. I’m surprised I haven’t come across this object before which makes me think it may not have survived. (Unless you know better…) As for Henri Nocq, there’s far more attention devoted to the portrait of him by Toulouse-Lautrec (also 1897) than there is to the designer.

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For a more contemporary sculptural take on the theme, there’s Narcissus, an early work from 1969 by British artist William Pye. See his website for other work including some gorgeous water sculptures.

Previously on { feuilleton }
Le Baiser de Narcisse
Reflections of Narcissus
Narcissus

Anita Berber

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Anita Berber (1925) by Otto Dix.

If you’re going to live fast and die young you can do worse than be immortalised by a great painter, as Anita Berber was by the German Expressionist Otto Dix. An “exotic dancer” (among other things) in the Berlin cabarets of the 1920s, Ms Berber died at the age of 29 from a bout of TB but it’s likely that drink and drugs (she was fond of both) would have ruined her eventually. She left us with this striking picture, many equally striking photos, and tales of scandalous behaviour involving nude dancing and sexual partners of any gender. Rather than paraphrase further, I can point you to a typically fine piece about the wild woman at Strange Flowers. Ten Dreams has more paintings by the great Otto whose Berber portrait was used on a German postage stamp in 1991. Impossible to imagine the Royal Mail putting a bisexual drug addict on a postage stamp here, no matter how celebrated the artist.