Walter (Wally) Wallace was the founder and manager of a number of leather clubs in New York City from the 1975 until 1996. Clubs that he founded include Excelsior MC (1975-present), the Mineshaft (December 1976-November 1985), the Attic (1986-1996), LURE (January 1994-April 2003), and 257 West 29th St. Storefront location (1997-?). The Mineshaft, was publicly shut down after “nine years and nine days” by the New York City Department of Health on November 6, 1985 among widespread fear that gay bathhouses were contributing to the spread of AIDS. It was the first closure of its kind in New York City and set the legal precedent that led to the closure of the Attic eleven years later. The Attic was closed at its 410 W 14th Street location on July 2, 1996 by the New York City Department of Health for permitting Acts of Fellatio on the premises. The closure of the Attic led to the opening of the Storefront location shortly thereafter.
I’ve delivered some variations of this talk in the past. In fact, I believe the first iteration for it was for Type@Cooper in New York. My ideas about the material presented continue to evolve as I learn more doing various bits of research, but this time I was able to be a little more direct in my discussion of some details now that I no longer directly represent Monotype. (There had always been some legal hindrance in my ability to speak as an employee about the manufacturing activities of the Linotype and Monotype corporations in their original incarnations, neither of which are actually the same entity that operates today as Monotype Imaging, Inc. Don’t even get me started on that.)
The basic premise of this talk, though — the relationship of type production to type design — is a big fascination of mine that keeps going deeper all time time, so I imagine someday there will be other versions of this that evolve even further.
Nothing That Meets the Eye: Notes on (Gay) Clones – “Enter the clone. The clone was, in Martin P. Levine’s appropriately science fiction-inflected phrasing, “the first post-Stonewall form of homosexual life.” With their masculine self-presentation (Levis, facial hair, gym-toned bodies, flannel shirts, leather accessories or gear) that projected sexual self-assuredness and availability, ‘clones came to symbolize the liberated gay man.’ At the same time, the clone look — with its perceived repudiation of anything swishy, faggy, or feminine — was criticized as an expression of gayness that was at best severely limiting, and at worst, self-hating and fascist. In fact, gay activist and scholar Arthur Evans meant the term to be derisive when he coined it in the ‘Red Queen’ broadsides he wheatpasted around the Castro in the late seventies. The word still comes off as pejorative, though its sting has dulled with time.”
Jim French, (aka, Luger), began his career in commercial art in the 1950s after having gone through four years of art school and two years in the military. At the suggestion of an old Army buddy who had seen some of his early, mostly unpublished homoerotic art done under the name Arion, he and Jim formed a partnership to start a company Jim named “Luger” (with an uncharacteristic umlaut over the U). This name was chosen because of the strong suggestions of masculinity associated with this German pistol.
Letraset and other brands of rub-down type literally put typography in the hands of the people. Rub-down type made it possible for students, professionals, and everyone else to design with real typefaces, without needing professional typesetting services. A cheap and easy way to experiment with typography and other graphic elements, Letraset put a lot of care into making type easy to use well, but it also resulted in a lot of ways to use type badly, but with interesting results. With some care and attention, however, it was a great way to develop an eye for typography.
This talk was a look at Letraset’s type and other graphic supplies, showing how they put the tools of professional design into everyday hands. It also looked at how people had to improvise with Letraset, and made the most of the materials at hand.
A couple of years agoI wrote about a trend in magazine cover design that felt like was becoming a real cliché — centered title, single image with a border, maybe a bit of non-hierarchical list about what’s inside. After a recent visit to the newer, larger Magma shop in Covent Garden, I can see that this very homogeneous style for independent mags is still deeply entrenched, and spreading.
[Originally posted to thecuntoftheminotaur.tumblr.com]
This film has been very difficult to find. Previously, Inventaire mentioned it was remastered by a company called to DCP, and he also posted an excerpt of the director’s previous leather manifesto. What I have uncovered this film seems to retell the classical myth of Narcissus by recasting the boy who fell in love with his own image as an archetypal Leatherman, played here by a man named only as Fernando.
Narcissus is an important myth for homosexuality because it recounts a conceit in homosexual desire to direct one’s attention not at the opposite gender – and by extension, reproducing — but towards one’s own self. This lust most often takes either an auto-erotic form or seeks it’s own specular reflection. Without the need to bestow and diversify one’s genes, it seems the narcissus is content in admiring his own.
From what bits I have found there appears to be a scene where this narcissus walks around Manhattan in full butch drag. He stares into himself through a metallic butterfly ball oblivious to the dangers of the city around him. Caught by beauty, it’s an abyssal image; a man made so simple as to be entrapped by his own skewed — but ultimately recognizable — image.
I found two scenes for the film which were included in a compilation tape called White Hanky (don’t look it up, it means masturbation). This is a common practice in porn, especially when studios fold and sell their assets to other companies who then re-release or compile the new footage. It’s also common for erotic films from this era to depict solitary or masturbatory acts. Hardcore penetration, especially anal, doesn’t really appear until the ‘70s. This suggests that these are the only two pornographic scenes in the film.
In the ABOVE SCENE Fernando takes his motorcycle as his object of sexual gratification. It’s the earliest Bike ‘Bate scene I’ve encountered. Most of those happen in the early-mid-70s before they largely disappear in favour of penetration scenes. I suggest you don’t watch it to be aroused.
Above is a still from THIS VIDEO which is probably the climax of the film. Some really interesting cross-dissolves and in camera tricks circumvent the era’s propriety values and imply oral sex and same-sex kissing. Then he masturbates via a mirror onto his own image while complementing himself, basically.
The above image may or may not be part of the film. No other corroborating evidence has been found. It could be a scene depicting a sex act, it could be a narrative scene like the aforementioned Butterfly Ball sequence or it could be a result of a misnamed Google search.
It’s unclear how faithfully Avery Willard follows the myth. He seems to be more concerned with Narcissus in the act of loving himself and not the heart-spurning or suiciding sides of that story. There doesn’t seem to be an Echo and a Nemesis character who are causally important to the story, but in this context I would question if that really matters.
Just over 15 minutes of the film still remains to be seen, including THIS wonderfully shot double-exposure sequence I first found on a trailer tape.
Today commemorates the twenty-fifth anniversary of the obscenity trial sparked by the artist’s controversial exhibition “The Perfect Moment” at the Contemporary Arts Center Cincinnati.
After years of listening to fascinating, chasing interviews with a diverse bunch of smart people on Typeradio, I was really flattered when Donald and Liza asked me to sit down for a chat when I was in Den Haag last March at the Robothon conference.
You can finally listen to the interview here. This is one of a few interviews that I gave before I left Monotype that have trickled out afterwards, and they all feel slightly awkward now that I’m trying to establish my place in the world outside of my old job. I can hear in this one how careful I’m being when I describe the situation, since I was only recently getting past my first attempt to leave, and trying to make peace with the new role that I took on instead.
Typeradio has quite a body of work available now, and it was really great to see the tables turned recently when Type Journal interviewed Donald and Liza about the project.
Like this site,Pink Mince is another side project that’s been going for so long that its own history is part of why I can’t bring myself to call it quits. I may publish sporadically, but I’m really proud of the eleven issues (not to mention the Minis, the merch, and the far-more-active Tumblr moodboard) I’ve produced across the last 6 years or so.
Despite the body of work, it’s rare for a zine get much of a reach, so I don’t often get to talk much about what the overall project has been about over the years. Happily, book artist Christopher Kardambikis invited me for an interview on Paper Cuts, an online radio show he hosts, where he talks to zine makers and other DIY publishers about the things they do. It was great to ramble on for a bit, and finally explain what I mean when I say that Pink Mince isn’t just a gay zine, but is also a showcase for contemporary typeface design and vintage lettering that features pictures of dudes.
(That’s me sneaking a discussion of Pink Mince into a talk on Letraset I was giving in Vienna.)
