Arts & Entertainment
Images and outrage
Controversy aside, ‘Hide/Seek’ is a groundbreaking show
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.
a&e features
Memorial for groundbreaking bisexual activist set for May 2
Loraine Hutchins remembered as a ‘force of nature’
The Montgomery County Pride Center will host a celebration honoring the life and legacy of Loraine Hutchins, Ph.D., on May 2. People are invited to attend the onsite memorial or a livestream event. The on-site event will begin at 10 a.m. with a meet-and-greet mixer before moving into a memorial service around the theme “Loraine a Force of Nature!” at 11 a.m., a panel talk at 12 p.m., break out sessions for artists, academics, and activists to build on her legacy at 1 p.m. and a closing reception at 2 p.m.
Attendees are encouraged to register for the on-site memorial gathering or the livestreamed memorial. The goal of this event is also to collect stories and memories of Loraine. Attendees and others can share their stories at padlet.com.
An obituary for Hutchins was published in the Bladelast Nov. 24, where people can learn more about her activism in the bisexual community. A private service for friends and family was held in December but this memorial service is open to all.
Alongside her groundbreaking work organizing for U.S. bisexual rights and liberation including co-editing “Bi Any Other Name: BIsexual People Speak Out” (1991), she also integrated faith into her sexual education and advocacy work. Her 2001 doctoral dissertation, “Erotic Rites: A Cultural Analysis of Contemporary U.S. Sacred Sexuality Traditions and Trends,” offered a pointed queer and feminist analysis to sex-neutral and sex-positive spiritual traditions in the United States. Her thesis was also groundbreaking in exploring the intersections between sex workers and those in caregiving professionals, including spiritual ones.
In an oral history interview conducted by Michelle Mueller back in August 2023, Hutchins described herself as a “priestess without a congregation.” While she has occasionally had a sense of community and feels part of a group of loving people, she admitted that “I don’t feel like we have the shape or the purpose that we need.”
“I’ve often experienced being the Cassandra in the room, the Cassandra in the community. Somebody who’s kind of way out there ahead, thinking through the strategic action points that my community hasn’t gotten to yet, and getting a lot of resistance and hostile responses from people who are frightened by dissent and conflict and not ready for the changes we have to make to survive,” she said.
“For somebody who’s bisexual in an out political way and who’s been a spokesperson for the polyamory movement in an out political way, it’s very exposing. And it’s very important to me to be able to try to explain and help other people understand the connection between spirituality and sexuality,” she explained citing how even as a graduate student she was “exploring how to feel erotic and spiritual, and not feel them in conflict with each other in my own spiritual contemplative life and my own sensual body awareness of being alive in the world.”
“Every religion has a sense of sacred sexuality. It’s just they put a lot of boundaries and regulations on it, and if we have a spiritual practice that is totally affirming of women’s priesthood and of gay people, queer people’s ability to minister to everyone and to be ministered to be everyone, what does that do to the gender of God, or our understanding of how we practice our spirituality and our sexuality in community and privately?”
“There’s no easy answer,” she concludes, and she continued to grapple with these questions throughout her life, co-editing another seminal text, “Sexuality, Religion and the Sacred: Bisexual, Pansexual, and Polysexual Perspectives,” published in 2012. Her work blending spiritual and queer liberation remains groundbreaking to this day.
Rev. Eric Eldritch, a local community organizer and ordained Pagan minister with Circle Sanctuary who has worked for decades with the DC Center’s Center Faith to organize the Pride Interfaith Service, is eager to highlight this element of her legacy at the memorial service next month.
History
Julius’ Bar ‘sip-in’ laid groundwork for Stonewall
Tuesday marked 60 years since four gay activists held protest
While Stonewall is widely considered the birthplace of the modern LGBTQ rights movement in the U.S., a lesser-known protest inside a Greenwich Village bar three years earlier helped lay critical groundwork for what would follow.
Tuesday marked 60 years since the Julius’ Bar “sip in.”
On April 21, 1966, four gay rights activists — Dick Leitsch, Craig Rodwell, John Timmons, and later Randy Wicker — walked into Julius’ Bar and staged what would become known as a “sip-in” to challenge state liquor regulations on serving alcoholic beverages to gay men — with a drink.
Modeled after the sit-ins that challenged racial segregation across the American South, the protest was designed to confront discriminatory practices targeting LGBTQ patrons in public spaces.
At the time, the Mattachine Society — one of the country’s earliest gay rights groups — was actively pushing back against policies enforced by the New York State Liquor Authority. One of those policies could have resulted in the loss of liquor licenses for serving known or suspected gay men and lesbians. The participants had visited multiple establishments, openly identified themselves as homosexual, and requested a drink — with the anticipation of being denied.
Their final stop was Julius’, where reporters and a photographer had gathered to document the moment. When Leitsch declared their identity, the bartender covered their glasses and refused service, reportedly saying, “I think it’s against the law.” The next day, the New York Times ran a story with the headline, “3 Deviates Invite Exclusion by Bars,” cementing the moment in the public record.
Though initially framed with disrespect — the term “sip-in” itself was coined as a play on civil rights protests — the action marked a turning point. It brought national attention to the systemic discrimination LGBTQ people faced and helped catalyze changes in how liquor laws were enforced. In the years that followed, the protest contributed to the emergence of licensed, more openly gay-friendly bars, which became central social and organizing spaces for LGBTQ communities.
The Washington Blade originally covered when the bar was officially added to the National Park Service’s National Register of Historic Places in 2016.
Today, historians and advocates increasingly recognize the “sip-in” as a key pre-Stonewall milestone. According to the New York City LGBTQ Historic Sites Project, the protest not only increased visibility of the early LGBTQ rights movement but also exposed widespread surveillance and entrapment tactics used against the community.
Marking the 60th anniversary of the event, commemorations have taken place in New York and across the country. Reflecting on its enduring legacy, Amanda Davis, executive director of the NYC LGBTQ Historic Sites Project, spoke about the event.
“Julius’ Bar is a place you can visit and viscerally connect with history,” said Davis. “We’re thrilled to have solidarity locations across the country join us in commemorating the ‘sip-in’’s 60th anniversary and the queer community’s First Amendment right to peaceably assemble.”
For current stewards of the historic bar, the responsibility of preserving that legacy remains front of mind.
“It’s a privilege and a responsibility to be the steward of a place so important to American and LGBTQ history,” said current owner of Julius’ Bar, Helen Buford. “The events of the 1966 Sip-In here at Julius’ resonated across the country and inspired countless others to stand proud for their rights.”
The timing couldn’t have come at a more important moment, Kymn Goldstein, executive director of the June L. Mazer Lesbian Archives, explained.
“At a time when our community faces renewed challenges, coming together in resilience and solidarity reminds us of the power in our collective resistance,” Goldstein said.
The American Civil Liberties Union, an organization dedicated to defending rights and liberties guaranteed by the Constitution, is currently tracking 519 anti-LGBTQ bills across the U.S. The majority are targeted at restricting transgender rights — particularly related to gender-affirming care, sports participation, and the use of public bathrooms.
Some additional groups and bars that held their own “sip-in” as solidarity events to uplift this historic milestone are from across the country include:
Alice Austen House at Steiny’s Pub, Staten Island, N.Y.
Bellows Falls Pride Committee at PK’s Irish Pub, Bellows Falls, Vt.
Brick Road Coffee, Mesa, Ariz.
Brick Road Coffee, Tempe, Ariz.
Dick Leitsch’s Family at Old Louisville Brewery, Louisville, Ky.
The Faerie Playhouse & LGBT+ Archives Project of Louisiana at Le Cabaret, New Orleans
Harlem Pride & John Reddick at L’Artista Italian Kitchen & Bar, New York
JOYR!DE KiKi at Loafers Cocktail Bar, New York
Matthew Lawrence & Jason Tranchida / Headmaster at Deadbeats Bar, Providence, R.I.
Mazer Lesbian Archives at Alana’s Coffee, Los Angeles
New Hope Celebrates at The Club Room, New Hope, Pa.
Queer Memory Project at the University of Evansville Multicultural Student Commons / Ridgway University Center, Evansville, Ind.
Sandy Jack’s Bar, Brooklyn, N.Y.
St. Louis LGBT History Project at Just John Club, St. Louis
The LGBTQ+ Victory Fund National Champagne Brunch was held at Salamander Washington DC on Sunday, April 19. Gov. Andy Beshear (D-Ky.) was presented with the Allyship Award.
(Washington Blade photos by Michael Key)
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