The camera, on the other hand, is that instrument of eternity.

 

EVERY PICTURE TELLS A STORY | an essay

Looking at Anthony Friedkin’s Gay Essay, it was easy to be taken aback. I visited Trooper’s Hall once or twice, but I couldn’t help but ponder something deeper while reflecting on his images, the people in them, and ultimately that favorite topic of wonder: time.

I don’t know how I feel about time. A man-made invention to keep the world in order or a cheap reason to sell clocks—it is, and has always been, something. Time is made most memorable, of course, through photography—that quiet stealing of a moment, proposing truth, revealing a mystery, and forever gathering dust. Time steals; this we know. Watching a 1930s comedy, we do the math: the actors are most likely all dead. We are watching a fluid photograph of images of dead people. We are experiencing a sixth sense. Still images, or portraits, as we call them, capture a moment, a quick glance, a frozen instance in life. Like galleries, we too collect images—the candid cell phone snapshot, the black-and-white Tri-X images of our youth, the SX-70 Polaroids of our adolescence, the Kodak moments of our happy, colorful life—all captured and stored in worn boxes, shelved in quiet contemplation of time.

So, I came across a photograph of my dear friend Richard at 17, posing in the Trooper’s bathroom in 1973. Time and age. Time and age. We are never prepared for age or time, really, except for the perpetual ticking of some clock somewhere. That antithesis of photography, the mirror, will tell you the truth—if only you will let it. We seldom do, except for the gradual wearing away of the skin, the hair, and the body, told only through the stories of the eyes. The camera, on the other hand, is an instrument of eternity. We see ourselves locked in a youthful embrace of a season of love, an old lover’s quick smile, and we have to remind ourselves that this is a thing called the past.

Whoever invented the concept of the past, present, and future knew intimately about time. Yet one can only wonder—when does the present become the past? When does the future become the present? These are matters that, when examined too closely, can conjure a kind of madness, like molecules and electrons—present but hardly understood.

So, we stick to what we know, the things collectively understood by human beings, and that brings us back to time and age. We are ill-prepared for age because it is one of those things we don’t want to acknowledge—like the stunning fact that we are all going to die. Age is the preparation for that eventuality. We grow old. The images of ourselves taken in bathrooms in the 1970s have little to do with the man now in his late 50s, other than reminding him that he doesn’t look remotely like that anymore. He doesn’t have, in any logical sense, anything of that person in his current being. He can remember, he can recall, and he can ponder all the words starting with re, but it will never bring him back to that moment in reality. Time and age changed him. That is what they do—the exact opposite of a photograph, which holds firm and insists on the moment.

Many have considered photography magical. It revives the memory of dead parents, friends, and loved ones; it takes us to places we have been but can never return to. That place in time, that moment, much like a kiss, quietly moves the surroundings into the background, bringing us wholly into the moment and nothing else.

 

 

A LOOK at the MOMENT

In 2024, homosexual art photography continues to evolve, embracing both personal and political themes with a focus on challenging societal norms and exploring queer identities. Some of the latest trends and notable works include:

  1. Intimate Storytelling: Photographers like Lin Zhipeng (also known as “223”) from Beijing are pushing boundaries by capturing raw, intimate moments. His work often explores themes of freedom, but with an underlying tension due to the censorship it faces in China. His use of film over digital adds a layer of authenticity and nostalgia to his pieces​ (Queerty).

     

  2. Queer History and Disruption: Artists like Deborah Bright are reinterpreting classic Hollywood imagery to insert queer narratives into mainstream culture. For example, her work alters iconic scenes from films to include a lesbian presence, thereby challenging the traditional heteronormative stories that these films convey​ (Queerty).

     

  3. Emerging Queer Photographers: The queer photography scene is also seeing a rise in new talent, with exhibitions and galleries showcasing a variety of perspectives from around the world. These emerging photographers often mix genres, blending elements of fashion, documentary, and fine art photography to tell their stories. This eclectic approach reflects the diversity within the LGBTQ+ community itself ​( Advocate.com, PinkNews).

     

Overall, homosexual art photography in 2024 is vibrant and varied, with artists using their medium to explore personal identities, challenge societal norms, and document the queer experience in innovative ways.

 

 

,  

Fuck Yeah!

 

Longevity. With a title and logo that pretty much sums up its  editorial, it’s the fresh approach and well, the sexiness it’s easy to see how it has remained.

Fuckin’ Young is a well-known digital magazine and online platform that was founded in 2011. The website is highly regarded for its cutting-edge coverage of fashion, art, and culture, particularly targeting a young and trend-conscious audience. The platform showcases a wide range of content, including:

Editorials: High-quality photo shoots and fashion editorials that highlight both established and emerging designers. These editorials often push the boundaries of traditional fashion photography, incorporating avant-garde and artistic elements.

Interviews: In-depth conversations with fashion designers, artists, musicians, and other creative professionals. The interviews often focus on the inspirations, challenges, and future aspirations of these individuals, providing insight into the creative process.

News & Features: Updates on the latest trends, fashion shows, art exhibitions, and cultural events. The site covers both global and local happenings, making it a go-to source for staying informed about what’s current in the creative world.

Youth Culture: The platform places a strong emphasis on youth culture, exploring how young people are influencing and being influenced by fashion, art, and media. It often highlights subcultures and niche communities that are shaping contemporary culture.

Art & Design: In addition to fashion, Fuckin’ Young covers various forms of art and design, from visual arts and architecture to product design and graphic design. The platform appreciates the intersection of these creative fields and how they influence one another.

The magazine’s aesthetic is known for being bold, rebellious, and sometimes provocative, reflecting the dynamic and often unconventional perspectives of the youth it represents. It has built a reputation as a trendsetter in the digital publishing world, particularly within the fashion industry.

Books |

Photography

An exquisite collection of works by more than sixty queer and gay photographers from around the world

The latest and third BOYS! BOYS! BOYS! volume presents new work by more than sixty photographers from thirty countries including China, India, Iran, Poland, and Russia where gay rights are repressed and queer lives are under constant threat.

BOYS! BOYS! BOYS! was founded by The Little Black Gallery and is curated by Ghislain Pascal to promote queer and gay fine art photography, which includes their bi-annual magazine with the same name. The first BOYS! BOYS! BOYS! book was published in 2019, the second volume in 2020, both have sold out. Part of the proceeds of this volume will be donated to charities supporting the LGBTQ+ community and fighting the HIV / AIDS epidemic.

Featured Photographers: AdeY, Johnny Abbate, Alex Avgud, Yves De Brabander, Domenico Cennamo, David Charles Collins, Alexander Courtman, David-Simon Dayan, Alejo Dillor, Ivan Donadio, Diogo Duarte, Michael Epps, Matthew Finley, Stéphane Gizard, Greg Gorman, Ashish Gupta, Jerome Haffner, Babak Haghi, Tim Hailand, Brice Hardelin, Florian Hetz, Serge Le Hidalgo, Raj Kamal, Matheus Katayama, Dmitry Komissarenko, Richard Kranzin, Leo Maki, Krzysztof Marchlak, Paul McDonald, Juan Antonio Papagni Meca, Charles Moriarty, Bert Van Pelt, Sebastian Perinotti, Alessandro Pollio, Xavier Samre, Michael Sondergaard, Tyler Udall, Ruben van Schalm, Luis Venegas, Gerardo Vizmanos, Shen Wei et al.

Looking at Anthony Friedkins’ Gay Essay it was easy to be taken back. I
visited Troopers Hall once or twice, but I couldn’t help but ponder
something deeper in reflecting upon his images, the people in them and
ultimately that favorite topic of wonder, time.

I don’t know how I feel about time. Man-made invention to keep the world
in order or a cheap reason to sell clocks,it is and has always been,
something. Time is made most memorable of course through photography, that
quiet stealing of a moment, proposing truth, revealing a mystery and
forever gaining dust. Time steals, this we know. Watching a 30s comedy, we
do the math, the actors most likely are all dead. We are watching a fluid
photograph of images of dead people. We are experiencing a Sixth Sense.
Still images or portraits as we like to call them, capture a moment, a
quick glance, a frozen instance in the life. Like galleries, we too
collect images, the black and white Tri-X images of our youth, the SX-70
Polaroid film of our adolescence, the Kodak moments of our happy, colorful
life; all captured and stored in worn boxes, shelved in quiet
consideration of time.

So it was coming upon a photograph of my dear friend Richard at 17, posing
in the Trooper’s bathroom in 1973. Time and age. Time and age. We are
never prepared for age nor time really lest the perpetual clicking of some
clock somewhere. That anthesis of photography, the mirror, will tell you
the truth, if only you will let it. We seldom do but for a gradual wearing
away of the skin, the hair, the body, told only in the stories of the eye.
The camera, on the other hand, is that instrument of eternity. We see
ourselves locked in a youthful embrace of a season of love, an old lovers
quick smile, and we have to remind ourselves that is of a thing called the
past.

Whoever invented the concept of the past, present and future knew
intimately about time, though one can only wonder when the present becomes
the past, the future the present. These are matters that when looked upon
too closely, can conjure a kind of madness like molecules and electrons,
present, but hardly understood.

So we stick to the knowing, the things understood collectively as a human
beings and that would bring us back to time and age.
We are ill prepared for age, because it is one of those things that we
really don’t want to know like the stunning fact that we are all going to
die. Age is the preparation for that eventuality. We grow old. The images
of ourselves taken in bathrooms in the 1970s have little do with the man
now in his late 50s, other than reminding him that he doesn’t look, not
even remotely like that, now. He doesn’t have, even in any remotely
logical sense, anything of that person in his current being. He can
remember, he can recall and he can ponder all the words starting with re
and it will never bring him back to that moment, in reality. Because time
and age changed him. That is what it does, the exact opposite of the
photograph, which holds firm and insists on the moment.
Many have considered photography magical. It revives the memory of dead
parents, friends and parents, it take us a to place where we have been but
can never get to, again. That place in time, that moment, much like a
kiss, which quietly moves the surroundings into the background, brings us
strangely into the moment and nothing else.