Arts & Entertainment

Images and outrage

Controversy aside, ‘Hide/Seek’ is a groundbreaking show

Published

16 years ago

December 9, 2010

A still from the video that caused controversy in the current "Hide/Seek" exhibit at the National Portrait Gallery.

Catcher Yogi Berra once famously called it “deja vu all over again.” But it was Karl Marx who perhaps defined it best as “when history repeats itself — the first time as tragedy, the second time as farce.”

That was the feeling at least for a moment last week, when officials at the National Portrait Gallery censored a video component of its exhibit titled “Hide/Seek,” the show about gay and lesbian sexual love and its impact on American art. Complaints by right-wing Catholics over 11 seconds of a depiction of ants crawling on a crucifix was enough for NPG director Martin E. Sullivan to decide to turn tail and yank an entire half-hour-long 1987 video, titled “A Fire in My Belly” — a meditation on the ravages of AIDS by David Wojnarowicz, the gay artist who died from HIV-related causes in 1992.

Shades of Robert Mapplethorpe and the cancellation of an exhibit of his erotically charged photos by the Corcoran Gallery of Art in 1989. And now as then GOP politicians are on the attack under the banner of “no promo homo,” and also as before, another gallery — this time Flashpoint — courageously took up the challenge and began to show the offending video.

But what about the groundbreaking NPG show itself, which opened in October and runs through mid-February? It’s stunning with 105 pieces of art from the canon of America’s greatest artists of the past century and more, depicting the ways in which their sexual orientations expressed themselves — usually coded and concealed — visually on canvas and other surfaces and as images in motion.

The exhibit is titled as a playful reminder of the childhood game of hide-and-seek, when concealment is the first task for survival. “HIDE/SEEK — Difference and Desire in American Portraiture,” with its range and breadth of seeing and finding works of art that dare speak, however sotto voce, the name of taboo love, boldly snaps in two the several decades-long taboo, welded firmly in place after the Mapplethorpe fiasco, of acknowledging same-sex desire in major U.S. museums.

The range of artists begins with Thomas Eakins and his scenes of naked boys swimming and passes through other giants of American painting — John Singer Sargent, George Bellow, Georgia O’Keefe, Jasper Johns, Robert Rauschenberg, Andy Warhol and others — to our own new century. But as co-curator Jonathan D. Katz contends, “seeking and noticing” the sexual subtexts of their work “are two very different acts,” and this exhibit “seeks to turn such seeing into noticing.”

As with their work itself, nothing is as it seems at first. Therefore, “HIDE/SEEK” features, says Katz, “straight artists representing gay figures, gay artists representing straight figures, gay artists representing gay figures, and even straight artists representing straight figures, when of interest to gay people/culture.”

For Katz, considered the dean of academic study of gay and lesbian art history, this has been the curatorial work of more than 15 years. Katz shaped this exhibit with Smithsonian historian David C. Ward, who has openly called Katz “my camerado — per Walt (Whitman).”

Ward also says that Katz, who founded the gay and lesbian studies program at Yale University and is the first tenured professor in LGBT studies in the nation, “is a model of the engaged scholar” and as a result ran afoul of academic norms in the past for his avowed interest in these subjects.

“He’s someone who managed to be thrown out of two institutions, the University of Chicago and Johns Hopkins University,” Ward says, “for daring in the 1970s to want to write about gay and lesbian Americans.”

In the magisterial catalogue accompanying the exhibit, Katz confesses that their choice of subjects is “firmly canonical” and rooted in “the register of great American artists … within the American mainstream,” so that many artists, less well known, have been excluded. The key objective, says Katz, is to show that “the assumption that same-sex desire is at best tangential to the history of American art” is “utterly unsupportable.”

With “HIDE/SEEK,” and even with the Wojnarowicz censorship fresh at hand, it now seems safe to say, in Katz’s words, that the “pervasive silencing of same-sex desire in accounts of American portrait painting” is over.

Perhaps the most interesting feature of the exhibit comes in its revelation that American artists at the turn of the 20th century could in fact be much more open about their subject matter than those of the mid-20th century in a period haunted by sexual McCarthyism and the hunt for “reds and gays” in government, the schools and the clergy. During that era only on the fringes of the entertainment world, and there not always, could different sexual proclivities find open or even closeted refuge.

In other words, same-sex desire could be expressed more freely in the arts at that earlier time “prior to the advent of ‘homosexuality’ as an available category,” says Katz, even though same-sex desire acted upon was literally a crime. But this was before an explicit “homo/hetero binary” was established as the enforced norm, he says, and before “gay” and “straight” were paired as strict opposites instead of subtle inflection points on a spectrum of the sort spelled out by Alfred Kinsey in his scale of zero to six.

Key to this transformation, Katz says, was when “sexual behavior evolve(d) into sexual identity, from what you did to what you were.” In the earlier era, after all, sexual identity was premised not on the gender of one’s sexual partner but rather on one’s own gendered role —insertive or receptive — in the sex act. As Katz notes, “it was socially acceptable to penetrate a queer” for sexual relief and as “tolerable stand-ins for women.”

Thus, Katz begins the exhibit catalogue with a searching exegesis of George Bellows’ print from 1917, “The Shower Bath,” where two naked men are depicted front and center – one thin and effeminate, looking seductively over his shoulder and thrusting his posterior provocatively at a second man, beefy of build, butch and masculine, whose towel barely conceals his sexual arousal. Opposites in every way, “they are made a pair,” says Katz, and what he calls “the odd couple” are “the focal point of this image.” But the forward homoeroticism of the Bellows print did not hamper its commercial success at the time. And Bellows himself was a man devoted to his wife and children.

There is, of course much more in this exhibit, with many works coded with layers of longing, that NPG director Sullivan — before the controversy erupted over the video — spoke of “with pride” as offering “a new lens with which to view the panorama of American life.” It is indeed, as he said earlier, “a sumptuous survey of more than a century of American portraiture,” asking “new questions and risking new interpretations.” It dares to be at once risky and risque.

With portraits such as these, we enter the lives of others, to explore how identities were forged in the past. With portraits such as these, we end up staring at ourselves.

Related Topics:David C. Ward Hide/Seek Jonathan D. Katz National Portrait Gallery Robert Mapplethorpe Smithsonian

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Movies

10 years later, we still can’t shake Barry Jenkins’s ‘Moonlight’

Landmark queer film returned to theaters this past weekend

Published

14 hours ago

October 7, 2026

Michael K. Lavers

(Screenshot via YouTube)

It all started back at the Telluride Film Festival, where “Moonlight” had its world premiere in 2016, kicking off a successful awards season run. It instantly became the year’s critical darling, and it wound up winning three Academy Awards, including Best Picture, Best Adapted Screenplay (for Jenkins), and Best Supporting Actor (for Mahershala Ali.)

But there’s a world where an independently made film like “Moonlight,” featuring an all-Black cast with mostly unknown actors, and a story exploring how queerness intersects with toxic masculinity and race, gets easily overlooked. The fact that the film won Best Picture on Hollywood’s biggest stage not only cemented its place in film history, but helped the story reach more Black and queer people.

Adapted from Tarell Alvin McCraney’s unproduced, autobiographical play “In Moonlight Black Boys Look Blue,” Jenkins follows a boy named Chiron, introduced to the audience as Little, over the course of three pivotal moments in his upbringing. Set in Miami, the film tracks Chiron’s days as an outcast struggling to make it through elementary school, to his first sexual encounter with another boy, to his adult days making a living as a drug dealer. Chiron suffocates while living with his abusive, drug-addicted mother (Naomie Harris) and eventually finds refuge and safety in the home of surrogate parents Juan (Ali) and Teresa (Janelle Monáe) as he struggles to reckon with his queerness.

Jenkins’s images instantly became iconic: Juan holding Little in the ocean, a moment reminiscent of a young boy’s baptism; Chiron resting his head on Kevin’s (André Holland) shoulder as the two reconcile their love for one another; Little looking back at the audience as the waves crash.

The film mainly features locals from Miami. One of the smartest choices Jenkins and his casting director, Yesi Ramirez, made when shaping out Chiron’s journey was casting three different actors (Alex Hibbert, Ashton Sanders, and Trevante Rhodes) to play the character as he physically comes of age. Jenkins deliberately never had the three actors meet despite portraying the same character — quite the atypical approach to casting.

“I wanted [that decision] to be a comment on the way of the world we live in, and how society has this effect on these young men who grow up in a community like the one depicted in the film,” Jenkins said in a Creative Screenwriting interview in February 2017. “To me, the best way to show that was to illustrate this change in the character, and what happens to the people who are playing him at each stage.”

In the decade since “Moonlight”’s release, dozens of filmmakers cite Jenkins as one of their biggest influences, including Joe Talbot (“The Last Black Man in San Francisco”). And you can see his film’s footprints all over “Nickel Boys, If I Go Will They Miss Me” and “Waves,” all films that use evocative imagery to tell grounded, Black-led stories.

To date, “Moonlight” remains the lowest-budget film to ever win Best Picture, made for a mere $1.5 million dollars. It was also the first film that A24, the indie distributor that was still building a name for itself back in 2016, fully financed and produced itself. “Moonlight” went on to gross over $60 million at the global box office, largely thanks to the Oscars platform.

In our current political and media landscape under the Trump-Vance administration, “Moonlight” has the potential to save even more lives. In the early days depicted in Chiron’s upbringing, he is taught to live with shame, to keep his head down at school. It’s all about survival. But by the end of the film, Chiron reconnects with Kevin and finds himself remembering all the emotions he felt after being touched by a man for the first time. It’s a small step, a small embrace, but a crucial one for Chiron to start coming to terms with himself.

Jenkins still gets emotional when watching scenes back from the film now. Speaking with Vanity Fair at this year’s Telluride Film Festival, where “Moonlight” screened for its 10th anniversary, Jenkins admitted he was a “crying mess” when revisiting the last 15 minutes of the film earlier in the year.

“Maybe over the next few months I’ll get some more understanding of it, but I think it was just how meaningful it was that we created this thing,” Jenkins said. “It’s not about the film itself, but just how meaningful it was that we actually did it.

In the decade since “Moonlight”’s release, Jenkins went on to direct another acclaimed film, “If Beale Street Could Talk,” and recently made “Mufasa: The Lion King.” He’s set to return to his more independent roots with “Be My Baby” starring Zendaya, which will also be distributed by A24, and an Alvin Ailey biopic. The Oscar winner continues to mentor emerging filmmakers and writers through the Sundance Labs, visiting colleges around the country to teach what he learned from making his breakout film.

Now that “Moonlight” is back in theaters, it’s the perfect opportunity for queer and Black people to experience this tender, intimate, nuanced film on the big screen. It’s a modern classic with the potential to continue making people feel seen and embraced for every aspect of their identity.

Theater

‘Some Like It Hot’ a wild ride at renovated Bernard Family Theatre

Exhilarating show brimming with fun, feeling, and focus on gender exploration

Published

14 hours ago

October 7, 2026

Patrick Folliard

Tavis Kordell as Jerry/Daphne and Jacob Tischler as Joe/Josephine in ‘Some Like It Hot" at Olney Theatre Center. (Photo by Teresa Castracane)

“Some Like It Hot”
Through Nov. 8
Olney Theatre Center
2001 Olney-Sandy Spring Rd.
Olney, Md.
Olneytheatre.org

There’s reason to celebrate at Olney Theatre Center. Currently, they’re debuting their renovated Bernard Family Theatre while inaugurating the soaring new space with a regional premiere of “Some Like It Hot,” the musical adaptation of Billy Wilder’s classic 1959 comedy.

Toying with this cinematic gem took some cojones, but it works.

The film and the Tony Award-winning musical share similar plot lines: After witnessing a mob hit, Chicago musicians Joe and Jerry need to leave town. So, they don dresses, join Sweet Sue and Her Society Syncopators all-female band, and board a train headed for warmer climes (Southern California). As Josephine and Daphne, they experience new slants on romance, gift giving, and the male gaze. It’s funny and illuminating.

Helmed by out artistic director Jason Loewith, OTC’s exhilarating production is brimming with fun, feeling, and the musical’s focus on Black identity and gender exploration (recreated for Broadway by writers Matthew López /Amber Ruffin, and songwriting team Marc Schaiman/Scott Whittman).

OTC’s Loewith embraces it all while masterfully bringing together big dance numbers, romantic interludes, slapstick, and what’s more, he makes it look easy.

It’s 1933, deep in the Great Depression, and no-nonsense bandleader Sweet Sue (the excellent Ashleigh King) sets the speakeasy scene with “What Are You Thirsty For?” (not an unusual inquiry during the Prohibition era).

Away from Chicago at San Diego’s glamorous Coronado Hotel, matters become further complicated for Joe (Jacob Tischler) as he pursues the band’s irresistibly unreliable Sugar Kane, sensitively played by the talented Montria Walker. (A couple of her songs, including “A Darker Shade of Blue,” describe a rural Georgia, Jim Crow backstory.)

Meanwhile, Daphne (nonbinary actor Tavis Kordell) is learning a new love language with impish root beer fortune heir Osgood Fielding III (terrific out actor Edward Juvier).

Drinking in a Mexican cantina not far from the hotel, Osgood tenderly serenades Daphne with “Fly, Mariposa, Fly,” a romantic number about metaphorically spreading wings, and transformation. The beloved’s powerful reply number “You Coulda Knocked Me Over with a Feather” is filled with emotional revelation.

In its examination of gender fluidity and self-discovery, the musical isn’t an indoctrination. Instead, audiences accept what’s happening on stage, and soon they’re seduced and painlessly invested in the characters’ wellbeing.

Frank Labovitz’s intelligent costume design is brimming with storytelling. Joe and Jerry’s quick change from guys to girls isn’t flashy — at first. It’s all drab colors, modest hem lengths…street clothes pulled from the Great Depression. Later it’s showbiz silver sequins.

An adept and marvelous actor, Tishler does double duty as the straight and funny man. Even when dolled up for gigs, his Josephine destroys the look with men’s black socks, the dowdy wig, and cockeyed glasses, hilariously setting up a running gag of how Joe, as Josephine, looks so much older than the other girls in the band.

For “Some Like It Hot,” Karla Puno Garcia’s wide-ranging choreography style ranges from those early 1930s flapper flicks (think the young manic Joan Crawford) to something more elegant, Joe and Sugar dancing à la Fred and Ginger in the show’s dreamy number “Let’s Dance the World Away.” Another highlight is the second act’s penultimate number “Tip Top Trouble,” a wild but meticulously staged, gloriously gender bending, sixteen-person, cops and robbers chase sequence.

Top notch music director Christopher Youstra reliably delivers Marc Shaiman’s swinging, 1920s and 30s-inspired score played by a mostly hidden 10-piece band and mimed onstage by Sue’s lively Syncopators.

And in meeting the specialness of the challenge, scenic designer Ryan Douglass transforms the newly renovated theater into a good club setting featuring a colorful inlaid thrust stage surrounded by cabaret tables where just several short yards ahead of Row C, a contented couple is served a bottle of Champagne while settling in before the show starts.

Today, the Bernard Family Theatre with its raftered ceiling and industrial vibe suggests past and promise for the future.

For now, experience the revamped wild ride in a wonderfully redone space.