Yesterday Swann Auction Galleries completed their second annual LGBTQ+ Art, Material Culture & History auction.

A pair of real photo postcards from the 1977 San Francisco Gay Day Parade: “Straights for Gay Rights” and “I Love My Gay Sons” by Marie Ueda stood out because we sold them on eBay last year for $59.96. They fetched $600. Congratulations to our buyer who made a tidy profit! We have more Ueda vintage SF Pride photos here.

Also of note, Lot 193, an offset lithograph poster for The New St. Marks Baths c. 1980. Price estimate: $ 400 - $ 600. Price realized: $ 4,600. It was especially surprising because the poster was water-stained and not in great condition. We sold one back in 2012 for $675 (in pristine condition).

Finally the big surprise and top result from the auction was a graphite on paper drawing by Tom of Finland, “Fucker.” 11 ½” x 8 ½” and signed "Tom" in ink. The estimate: $ 6,000 - $ 9,000. The price realized: $ 44,000. Now that’s the kind of whopper Tom would most certainly have appreciated.

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From the studio of Al Urban, one of the three great masters of early American physique photography (alongside Edwin Townsend and Earle Forbes). This photo of model George Kuchler from the late 1930’s is an astounding composition of muscle contraction and meditative poise. 

With the back of his left hand resting gently against his thigh, his gaze contemplative, Kuchler keeps every muscle taught. And Urban, famous for taking up to six hours to set up an image, was perhaps the best of the three at capturing this exquisite tension. 

The photo is an original Urban print, documented on Urban’s Catalog No. 4 (image 21). It is unsigned (no male nudes were signed for fear of arrest). On double weight fiber paper with a high silver content, it’s in good condition with slight distress at the four corners and a faint curving mark upper right side (please see scan). 4 5/8" x 7 1/4."

Thanks to Reed Massengill for help with identifying this photo and supplying the catalog image.

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When I was a kid we spent every summer at Old Orchard Beach, Maine. This gave me the opportunity to see nearly naked men almost every day, and I took advantage of it.

I gazed at them covertly. Like a junior private eye, I’d watch. I’d lurk. I’d follow. I became quite the little connoisseur of male pulchritude.

Years before I ever heard the term “gay” I knew what I was doing, what I was feeling, was wrong. How could I explain my behavior when I didn’t understand it myself? I got that it was risky but the attraction was irresistible.

I became a voyeur.

That’s why voyeur photos have such deep appeal. I feel a connection, not with the subjects, but with the photographer. Positioned behind or off-to-the-side. Far enough away so he won’t arouse suspicion but as close as possible to get the best shot.

The men, being themselves, are oblivious to the eye that pursues them, the lens focused on their shining bodies. Waiting for the right moment. Each photo seems like a small victory for Team Homo. Gotcha.

Black and white vintage photo dated July 1967

Gloss finish on Kodak paper, 3 1/4" x 4 1/2"

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Came across this recent eBay auction from "justlettinggoagain." A 4" x 5" original Athletic Model Guild photo, it sold for $825.

No question it's a great image of two sexy muscle guys playing at bondage. But in my wildest dreams I'd never have expected it to fetch over $800.

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Forget 2020 for a moment. 

It’s the summer of 1968. Funny Girl is the year's top grossing film. With the Apollo 8 mission, humans orbit the Moon for the first time. North Vietnam launches the Tet Offensive. Robert Kennedy is assassinated in Los Angeles. Martin Luther King is assassinated in Memphis. Mass protests erupt across the globe, from Paris to Mexico City to Chicago.

OK forget 1968. Let’s just look at the photo.

He stands there in what looks like a motel room, wearing short white swim trunks with navy trim. A beach towel draped over the right side of his body emphasizes his broad shoulders, pale white skin, and small patch of chest hair.

That face meant for the silver screen offers the hint of a smile, anticipating some fun in the sun, or maybe back in the room when he and the photographer return from their day at the beach.

Vintage color snapshot on gloss Kodak paper, 3 1/2" x 5"

Dated June, 1968.

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Seated in a director’s chair, ¾ view, hands relaxed and legs crossed, he turns to face the camera. Though he’s at home wearing a robe and slippers this is anything but a spontaneous snapshot. 

The room provides a stylish backdrop. Nothing here is unconsidered. Books artfully but casually arranged on the shelves, a bronze horse, an elegant urn. Even the objects on the marble topped table are carefully placed: the little potted palm, the candle holder and a bowl.

Of course it’s the robe that stands out. Dark leaves cascade from shoulders and torso, offering a glimpse of thigh as they descend towards his ankle. A long black sash creates an inky puddle on the floor. His bare foot is capped with a chic open-toed slipper. 

His expression: Self-assured, skeptical, a bit weary. Is there a hint of seduction, a come-hither invitation? If only we knew who was behind the camera.

He reminds me of Velasquez’s Pope Innocent X. I suspect there was nothing innocent about either of them.

Vintage black and white photo 4” x 5 ½"
Embossed border with deckled edge.
Undated c. 1960.

Pope Innocent X, oil on canvas portrait by Diego Velázquez, executed around 1650. Many artists and art critics consider it the finest portrait ever created. Galleria Doria Pamphilj, Rome.

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When men line up for a photo, their proximity violates ordinary personal space. What are the rules? What’s allowed as men organise and pose for the camera? 

The norms are set by culture, context and era. As these photos reveal, there’s a wide range. Presumably all humans have an innate concept of personal space but the space between men can have a particular charge.

What does it mean when distance is violated or if "too much" affection is expressed? Peril lies in the (mis)interpretation: either being thought to be queer (an offense to many straight men) or inadvertently exposing one’s nature (historically a danger to gay men). 

Interpretation is of course, the realm of the viewer. With the concept of social distancing, today we see these men in rows through a new lens. Posing so closely is suddenly inconceivable when the space between us can be a matter of life or death. 

The only thing we know for sure is they were as much a product of their time as we are of ours.

Men in Rows: Athletes, Military, Friends, Swimsuits, and Queer.

From Beach Adonis magazine, January 1967.

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This rare "Setsnug" Underwear for Men antique cardboard box originally contained ribbed Union Suits, with closed crotch and (I can’t get no) “Satis-fac-shon” seat. Patented April 13, 1915 and made by Avalon Knitwear Company, Utica, New York.

Six men and boys stand at attention, lined up by height or “trunk measurements.” Lest you focus on the crotch, the photographer has, for lack of a more accurate term, air-brushed any hint of genitals. 

But the resulting dark and mysterious pubic patches have the opposite effect, drawing attention to the crotch while simultaneously emasculating the guys. This may have been an attempt to protect the delicate sensibilities of women who purchased the underwear for their sons and husbands (though presumably if they had sons or husbands they’d already have a pretty good idea of male genitals).

Union suits originated as women's wear during the 19th-century as an alternative to constricting garments and quickly gained popularity among men. Traditionally made of flannel with long arms and long legs, they buttoned up the front and had a button-up rear flap (colloquially known as "access hatch", "drop seat", "fireman's flap" and "crap flap").

 

Vintage men’s underwear box in overall good condition for its age. 
16” x 11” x 4,” c. 1915.

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