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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Books

Bros + romance + fantasy = ‘Bromantasy.’

New book a romp full of humor, dragons, kings, and adventure

Published

1 day ago

August 15, 2026

Terri Schlichenmeyer

(Book cover image courtesy of G.P. Putnam's Sons)

‘Bromantasy’
By Maire Roche
c.2026, G.P. Putnam’s Sons
$20/339 pages

“Danger” just happens to be your middle name.

Any fray, any tussle, anytime anybody needs help, they count on you to step in and save the day. You’re brave, smart and strategic, kind to old people, children, and small animals and, as in the new book “Bromantasy” by Maire Roche, dragons.

Of all the things there were to do – preserving food, keeping house for himself and his best friend Morningthall “Mo” Elmthorn, advanced skincare, and drinking at the local tavern down the road – the one thing Juniper O’Reilly couldn’t resist was a good brawl. It happened so often that Juniper honestly looked forward to it, though Mo wasn’t a fan.

Mo was more grown-up, calm, thoughtful, able, and Juniper loved him for it. He loved Mo, in fact, since they were little boys. He loved Mo in ways that they didn’t talk about, so they kept a wall between their bedrooms in their cottage.

Except for that one time.

They didn’t talk about that, either.

Instead, as they did often, on a warm fall night, Juniper and Mo went to the tavern, where mead was served and they could learn about the king’s weekly quests. There, Juniper could also find a good brawl, which is how he and Mo accidentally got into trouble: Juniper trounced one of the king’s men and was forced into a quest.

He didn’t want to fight dragons and he felt bad that Mo had been dragged along. He felt even worse leaving their farm, sleeping on the ground, wearing the same clothes every day, and not having enough skincare product along. A campfire added to the problem. A roving, lying prince, also in search of dragons, didn’t help. And though a quest was no place for a child, Juniper and Mo found a frightened little girl they had no choice but to protect.

A child with strange eyes, sharp teeth, and fire on her breath.

“And just like that, Juniper and Mo had a dragon.”

Bros + romance + fantasy = “Bromantasy.” It also could equal one of two other things: a romp full of humor, dragons, kings, princes, and adventure.

Or it could equal a whole lot of eye-rolling.

It’s a fact that this book is funny, in the way that a 1980s high school comedy movie is funny – meaning that it’s dippy, giddy, and very caricaturish but you’ll laugh quite often. The story contains everything you want in a fantasy romance (a “romantasy”), including human-like alternate species, a life-changing journey, and plenty of nudge-nudge-wink skirting around the attraction the two main characters have for one another. It’s a decent story, convoluted in just the right way. Purely, it’s an escape.

So why wouldn’t you want to read it? See above, and depending on your favorite reading genre. High-brow literature, this ain’t.

For the right reader, “Bromantasy” is a decent-enough vacation read, something not too taxing or hard on the brain. It’s for novel lovers, dragon hunters, king’s questers, princes, and romantics. For everyone else, this tale is just middling.

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Theater

National tour of ‘The Notebook’ retains its tearjerking power

Talented queer actor Grace Rundberg joins cast fresh out of college

Published

1 day ago

August 15, 2026

Patrick Folliard

Grace Ohwensadeyo Rundberg (Photo courtesy of National Theatre)

‘The Notebook’
Aug. 18-30
National Theatre
1321 Pennsylvania Ave., N.W.
$89-$197
Broadwayatthenational.com

When Grace Ohwensadeyo Rundberg first imagined a career in musical theater, she wasn’t sure exactly how she’d fit in. As a gay actor would she play queer characters? Outside of “Rent” and a few other shows, would there be lesbian parts coming her way?

Rundberg, 23, remembers an acting class in college. “I was doing a romantic scene opposite a male actor when the professor interrupted to say it was ‘unconvincing.’ Well, I’d never had the experience of what it’s like to be with a man, so I’m not surprised it looked a little awkward.”

But for Rundberg, being in the national tour of “The Notebook” has quelled those misgivings. Of course, booking the show straight out of college bolstered her confidence, and playing a woman whose love interests are men has put Rundberg in a place where she’s fine playing straight or gay.

Opening this week in D.C.’s National Theatre (Aug. 18-30), “The Notebook” is a genuine tearjerker (the book, the film, and the musical). It’s the decades long love story of Noah and Allie who despite vast differences, fall in love as teenagers. Over the years, their romance faces separation, societal pressures, the challenges of Alzheimer’s disease, yet somehow prevails.

Shortly after graduating from ⁠Pace University’s musical theater program in 2025, the upfront and buoyant Rundberg was signed to play ensemble member Georgie and understudy for Middle Allie (a young woman caught between youthful passion and reflective memory).

A mezze soprano mixed belter experienced with folk, pop, contemporary styles, she proves an ideal performer to sing Ingrid Michaelson score and act Bekah Brunstetter’s romantic libretto.

And when she understudies the role of Middle Allie, whether by scheduled design or insanely short notice, she sings the familiar tune “My Days,” a standout track from the musical that serves as the show-stopping “11 o’clock number.” Here, she captures the emotional climax when Middle Allie chooses the life and loves she desires.

During a musical childhood spent in Pittsford, N.Y, just seven miles outside of Rochester, Rundberg began music classes at four; she learned piano and belonged to choirs. And though, she says, the family was not really into theater, her mom was a Cher impersonator for a while.

Significantly, Rundberg (whose middle name Ohwensadeyo translates from Cayuga as “Beautiful Earth”) is a citizen of the ⁠Cayuga Nation, an Indigenous nation native to New York state.

Recently, she began learning the Cayuga language, a very important part of the culture, particularly since it’s almost exclusively a spoken language. Rundberg’s cousin, a professor at Cornell University where he teaches Cayuga language and culture, has been a great help. She feels fortunate: “Not everyone has access to their ancestry I’m blessed in this way.”

The Brooklyn-based actor’s ambitions are bold and varied. While landing a national tour was high on her bucket list, she longs to work on Broadway and auditions for TV and film. Being the first to create a character in a new work, especially a lesbian character, is a big goal. “That would tie a lot of things together,” she says. “That’s the ultimate dream.”

In the meantime, Rundberg is working professionally and seeing the country. But touring isn’t without its drawbacks. “I miss New York a lot,” she says. “My girlfriend is there; long distance is a challenge for sure. I’m always in a different place often with different time zones. Still, she has come to see me in San Francisco, Miami, Cleveland, and a few other stops. And I fly to New York when I can. We make it work.”

As a kid, Rundberg watched and rewatched the movie version of ‘The Notebook.’ She says, “It’s one of my favorites. It’s kind of a cliché, I know, but I’m a hopeless romantic.”

The show touches a lot of people; it’s evident at every performance. From the stage, the cast sees audience members crying. In fact, “The Notebook” sells branded souvenir tissue boxes at its merchandise stands for five dollars a pop.

“Beyond elements of sadness there’s also joy,” she adds. “There’s the never-ending devotion and getting through hard times together too. We do our best to send the audience home with hope and love.”