Hidden Histories of 20th Century Art
By Michael Petry, Curator

Do artists who are same sex lovers have anything in common besides sexual desire? How does gender preference impact the way work is made? Is art by same sex lovers as diverse as that of the heterosexual majority? What is the importance of documenting same sex history?
As the curator of the exhibition and author of the accompanying book, I hoped to address these questions, and in doing so, two main observations emerged. First, a horizontal reading of history is necessitated by the predominantly verbal record of same sex history. Second, a heterosexual filter must be lifted from prevailing interpretations of the work of same sex lovers. The exhibition looks at various aspects of these findings by placing examples of works from an acknowledged queer gaze, and in so doing allows gay/straight audiences the chance to see these works anew. The book goes into greater depth and covers a far greater number of artists, including those omitted due to space limitations at the museum, but both provide an argument for openness.
I will discuss the book and exhibition separately so that the reader will have an understanding of where the project as a whole comes from. The book collates already published (but diverse information) into a compelling history of male same sex lovers in the visual arts. No artists are ‘outed’, and whatever the reader may think of outing, it is not an issue in this project. But when no written record exists, each generation must learn first-hand over and over again of their history. The book attempts to gather information from an oral tradition (horizontal history) and compile it into a vertical history for future readers (of any sexuality) to access. It also attempts to remove a heterosexual filter ordinarily placed before the work of same sex lovers (this heterosexual gaze functions similarly to the male gaze on work made by women). It is not an attempt to queer the pitch; to the contrary, the text and exhibition attempt to remove interpretative distortions. The book highlights the heterosexual gaze, arguing that it is disruptive to the accumulation of knowledge.
The sexuality of an artist matters for a variety of reasons, primarily because no one is unaffected by those whose affections they seek. Many artists have made works for and about their same sex loves. This information is as important as knowing that Dora Marr was Picasso’s lover and muse, not his maid or cook. She was no mere model, nor were many of the men who sat for their same sex lovers. This information opens up different and important meanings and understandings in the work. While some artists in the project have
been married, or had children, many were in social situations where conformity to marriage was vital. This did not alter their affections for their own sex. To avoid any notion of hierarchy of hetero, bi or homo sexuality, I use the term same sex lover when referring to all the artists unless they have publicly referred to themselves otherwise. All the artists included in the project were involved in sexual and amorous affairs with other men, irrespective of whether they had heterosexual contacts. The fact that they had consensual same sex erotic relations separates them from the heterosexual majority.
Homosexuality is still considered a liability, a sin, or a criminal offence by a significant number in the heterosexual majority. For a man to willingly have sex with another marks him out. Same sex lovers (female or male) are still exposed to prejudice, and in many countries are unjustly imprisoned for their love. Homophobia is still globally acceptable. Gays and lesbians were denied observer status at the 2001 UN conference on racism and the recent (2004) resolution before them to protect human rights based on sexual orientation was scrapped (at the urging of religious institutions). Same sex lovers will not have chosen their gender, but do chose to act on their affections, and these events go into making a lived life.
Though this may be the background to the project, it is not its contention that there is a gay aesthetic. Even a glance at the diversity of artistic production included should dissuade anyone from such a conclusion. However, each artist, no matter their style or content of their work, has been influenced by their same sex desires. This is important to say, it is as simple as that. Taking note, remarking, then passing on, may be the way forward for heterosexuals and same sex lovers. While it is not possible to remove all filters, those that can, should be. The project does not attempt to be an encyclopedia, but hopes to provide a broad overview of the century. Many readers may be surprised at the inclusion of so many prominent and pivotal artists of the 20th century, but when it is no longer a surprise, the project will have done its job.
The book does its best to globally document same sex lovers over the 20th century, one where documents still exist to ‘prove’ sexual preference. The book examines what types of proof have been acceptable and contentious to the majority, and also looks at the historical social context that artists found themselves. The project looks at what I call an arch of openness, loosely defined as the ability of same sex lovers to be open about their sexuality to the majority. At the start of the century this was all but impossible and marriages of convenience were common. By the roaring twenties gay bars operated fairly openly in the major cities like Berlin, London and Paris, while the US suffered under prohibition. But on the whole openness depended on money and privilege, for protection from the law, and mobsters. The mass mobilization of men in World War II brought many working class gay men together for the first time and even though they served (some overtly, others discretely) in a homophobic institution, they met and had relationships with a vast variety of other men. After the war, the world had changed beyond recognition for everyone, and while gays were oppressed by the terror of the McCarthy witch-hunts in the US, by the 1960’s things had really changed for the better, and with free love, Black Power and feminism, the world was ready if not willing to address Gay Liberation. Sadly the disco nights of the
70’s led to the cold dawn of AIDS in the 80’s and a return to the closet for many, but a renewed activism for others. The 90’s saw many advances (mainly in Europe) and many setbacks (no HIV vaccine or cure) but on the whole same sex lovers now see the value in openness to the majority and are demanding equal rights under the law, wherever the law operates in the Western world. Homosexuality is still illegal in the Muslim world, India (where the epidemic is now out of hand) and China, making openness a stillborn option.
But there is always hope, and the exhibition looks at how men in the West handled the illegality of their love in the last century. British artist Glyn Philpot painted his American lover (Robert Allerton) and called the work The Man in Black (1913) and Francis Bacon followed suit in his Three Figures and Portrait (1975) painting of George Dyer over fifty years later. These paintings were historically exhibited without information on the sitter, even though it was known at the time. Even now, many museums withhold such information that is crucial to understanding the works. Dyer committed suicide on the day of Bacon’s retrospective and Bacon spent the next ten years repainting the scene. This information opens up the painting; were Dyer a woman it would certainly be institutionally spoken of, and I suggest readers look for such information the next time they see a Bacon in any museum. Both these works are in the exhibition, along with Duncan Grant’s portrait of Maynard Keynes (1908) with the information of the sexual nature of the relationship between painter and sitter. The aversion to the naming of a lover is one paradigm the exhibition exposes. Keynes, the world famous economist, was involved with Grant at the time of the painting, and his look of annoyance (at being disturbed at work) is offset by the tenderness of a lovers gaze. Without the information that they were lovers, the painting looses so much of its subtlety and power, and while Keynes later married, he financially provided for Grant for the whole of his life. This type of affection is important to document while we still can, especially in a period where same sex unions are constantly under attack.
The exhibition also looks at dialogues between artists over time. For example, Charles Demuth’s The Figure 5 in Gold (1928) is a conceptual portrait of poet William Carlos Williams (a same sex lover). This pivotal work was remade or influenced many artists including Jasper Johns and Robert Indiana. Indiana’s LOVE series was remade first by ACT UP into a work called RIOT and then AIDS by the Canadian group General Idea. General Idea produced a series of wallpaper works using the same typeface and color of Indiana’s original, and the exhibition features a huge wall covered in their wallpaper with an Indiana LOVE placed upon it. With these works viewers can trace a dialogue between same sex lovers over the whole of the 20th century.
Similarly, works that have a hidden gay meaning are explained for a general audience. Jasper Johns’ Target paintings are some of the icons of the 20th century, and while they are very open to interpretation (as painted readymades, as symbols of American paranoia in the 50’s) they are also open references to gay gloryholes. Any viewer in to 50’s who found himself having anonymous sex in toilets (tea rooms, or cottages in gay parlance) would have immediately understood the references in works like Target with Plaster Casts (1955) where plaster casts of a mouth, nose and penis are seen under wooden flaps at the top of a painted target. There are no eyes, or distinguishing characteristics of the people who sat for the casts. The target paintings are not just about the abstract idea of being a homosexual target in a heterosexual world. Additionally, they depict a sexual act that many closeted gay men partook in then, and now. Anonymous sex in such situations is about body parts penetrating other body parts. The anus or mouth is the target for the penis. This is a metaphor no same sex lover could have missed in 1955 or 2004. Other artists have made work that directly comments on this, including Keith Boadwee whose Butthole Target Yellow (1992) shows a close-up image of his own rear painted as a target with his anus as the bull’s eye.
The exhibition also tries to document the great breadth of artistic production by same sex lovers, from abstract works by Alexis Preller (The Royal Stele, 1965) and Richmond Burton (I am [Holographic #3], 2001), to conceptual works by Sunil Gupta (Queens, New York/ Lambeth, London2000-2) and Cerith Wyn-Evans (Untitled [Gold-plated barrier] 1998). Also featured are commissioned installations from Barrett-Forster (WRECK!), John Lindell, and Per Barclay (R�v�rence [Arnaud]), as well as performance works by Bryan Mulvihill (the World Art Tea Party) and David Medalla. The exhibition brings together early works like Tuke’s Noonday Heat (1901) Charles Ricketts Don Jaun (1911), Jean Cocteau’s The Erection (Richard), (c1920), ‘Pavel Tchelitchev’s Portrait of Massine (c1928), Cecil Beaton’s Self Portrait (1939), Horst P. Horst’s portrait of Marlene Dietrich#5B (1942), as well as works by Warhol, Mapplethorpe, Wojnarowicz, and many others. This is the first time a major museum space has taken the risk of openly stating that there is a same sex history worthy of taking note of, and offering its prestige and weight to gathering such a major body of important works together under a same sex gaze. It is hoped that its example will be followed by other institutions.