Here’s a life plan: Travel the world, get naked with your hot friends, set up photo shoots with them, have the time of your life, document it all. Lather, rinse, repeat. In between making a name for yourself as one of the most respected photographers of your genre and generation, fuck around and shoot some videos. No reason. And before you start to get pinned down as just a great photographer, produce some brilliant sculptures. And hell, take up painting. Keep them guessing, keep moving, and live life in a fantasyland of your own making. Such is the enviable life of Brandon Herman. Or so it seems - which is partly the point.

Weston Bingham: Your bio simply says where and when you were born. Care to elaborate?

Brandon Herman: Sure. I was born in a suburb of San Francisco.I have a brother and sister whom I adore. I hate people who wear their pajamas in public. I hate cats. I hate candy corn. I love burgers. I hate being bored. I love having sex. I hate Broadway musicals. I hate Starbucks. I’m lactose intolerant. I wear boxer shorts to bed but boxer briefs in the daytime. I think sirens are really annoying. I’m a pisces, but I don’t really believe in astrology. I think Kimora Lee Simmons is the biggest piece of shit to ever walk the Earth. I’d rather drink tequila than beer. Actually beer is annoying because I can’t get drunk off it. I love sleeping. I hate watching TV. I want a Porsche.

WB: You were just on the cover of Kaiserin, “a magazine for boys with problems”. What are your problems?

BH: I can’t sleep while spooning - I guess that points to intimacy issues. I drink to deal with social awkwardness. Wow, dumping your problems on a complete stranger can be so cathartic. I feel better already. Oh, I have a really bad memory. To be honest, I drink too much. I’m only attracted to people who seem like they could care less if I live or die. The moment someone shows interest in me, the magic is gone.

WB: Your website is brandonhermanland, your blog is brandonland. What goes on in Brandonhermanland?

BH: Brandonland refers to the idea of controlling one’s surroundings, creating a fabricated world for oneself. In Brandonland there is always a DJ handling the music, and you’re always doing something that makes other people go, “I wish I had thought of that.” Most people interact with a preexisting world, but I want to create one for myself and whoever else wants to join. It’s about making things interesting, making things fun. There are a lot of bizarre things about life and the world, and if you start to look for them and engage with them, then everyday becomes sort of like a game of figuring out how to live in a way that is continually new and exciting.

WB: A lot of of your peers are photographing themselves to a great degree through their subjects. You don’t necessarily seem to be. What attracts you to the people you shoot? How do you choose them?

BH: I cast people the way a director would, according to concepts that I have been working with long before they entered into the project. There’s no formula though. The notion that someone is right for the part is mere instinct. Or they’re hot.

WB: A lot of your work is very snapshotty, a lot looks more carefully planned. Do you value those approaches differently?

BH: All of the work is pretty elaborately fabricated. The snapshotty looking stuff sometimes more so. The difference is in the inspirational material. Every project starts with research - sometimes months worth. Once I have a concept I’m really into and start making work, I piece together whatever visual material I’ve found during my research period - be it film stills, porn, classical paintings, etc. - into the resulting work. A lot of the stuff I was making used to be heavily inspired by imagery that was taken from film, and I think that naturally gave it a more planned look.

More recently I have become increasingly interested in the internet and especially sites like YouTube and MySpace and the videos and photos people post of themselves. I’ll pick specific elements of their images that make them look snapshotty such as someone holding the camera at an awkward angle, or the flash being caught in a mirror behind, and I will use those deliberately, constructing images that are intentionally fabricated but because of the inspiration source may look more haphazard.

WB: Every photograph looks like a great time. Are you ever not having fun?

BH: Honestly I think I actually enjoy myself more than most people, but partly because I live my life in constant terror of being bored and will do whatever it takes to avoid it, like the plague! Even if that means saying really inappropriate things in front of my grandma, or breaking stuff, or doing impromptu personal scavenger hunts. The end justifies the means though, ya know? My assistants could tell you. I think they’re subjected to it the most.

WB: How do you get all of your friends to strip down, play around naked, and let you photograph it? Seriously?

BH: In the beginning they wouldn’t. When I was first taking pictures in college I had to beg people to be in them. By the time I was ready to graduate I pretty much had a waiting list, and people would also ask to come and watch shoots, so sometimes we would have like 20 people as an audience. It made it really fun - like we were doing a live show.

WB: What is it you look for in naked boys?
BH: I think that if I was able to communicate that clearly then I would be at the point where I wasn’t interested anymore, you know? Once I’ve figured something out I move on. Then the mystery is gone.

WB: What sort of cocks do you think are the most photogenic?

BH: Uncut definitely. Hands down. I think uncut cocks deserve to win some sort of competition

WB: What would the rules be for that competition? What would make a winner?

BH: [laughs] I don’t know, be uncut and you get a prize?

WB: What’s the story behind the title of your most recent show, “My Vacation With a Kidnapper”?
BH: When I was a little kid the thing that I was afraid of more than being eaten by a shark or crashing in a plane or anything else was being abducted out of my bedroom in the middle of the night by someone who came in through the window. Then when I was nine years old this girl named Polly Klaas was abducted in that exact way from a town not far from where I grew up, and I became obsessed with the story. I had never been in the habit of, or even interested in, reading the newspaper, but I read everything that was printed about Polly Klaas. She was eventually murdered before her abductor was caught. It was really sad.

Reflecting on it years later I realized that even though I would never wish harm on her or anyone else, I had gleaned a sort of pleasure from her story, a shot of adrenaline akin to the experience of watching a horror movie. The idea occurred to me of the possibility of something being simultaneously a fear and fantasy. I think this concept is really telling of the complicated nature of the way that the human psyche deals with its emotional reactions to the world, and that’s what the show is about.
WB: Do you have a larger agenda as an artist?

BH: I just kind of want to do crazy shit and have fun and make money from it and then die.

WB: How would you define the photography genre you are a part of?

BH: I don’t really consider myself to be a part of any genre necessarily. I usually get grouped with the likes of Larry Clark, Slava Mogutin, Marcelo Krasilcic, which is fine with me because they’re all friends of mine and I love what they do, but I never think about them when I’m making my own work. I also don’t really consider myself a photographer, per se. Most of what I’ve shown so far has been photography, but I think that will change. I spent most of last year working on a sculpture and right now I’m doing a large-scale painting.

WB: What’s the subject-matter of the painting?

BH: It’s three Laker girls dancing so that their skirts are flying up and they’re not wearing underwear.

WB: Speaking of sculptures, I love your cartoon cat head sculpture - what’s the story behind that?

BH: The cartoon cat head was part of the “Kidnapper” show. I’m really interested in the way that the memory sort of plucks things out of our daily lives, sometimes seemingly arbitrarily and decides that those will be the things that we keep and the rest it just forgets. The cat head is larger-than-life (six feet tall in person) so it’s a giant icon, the way that images can be in our minds sometimes, and it’s only the head because the rest didn’t make an impression for some reason. It also looks like a lot of cartoon cats but isn’t any specific cat, because the memory is unreliable and can get kind of fuzzy after a while, and even merge separate memories into one memory accidentally. I know it works because I have the cat’s face tattooed on my calf and every time I wear shorts someone will ask if its Felix or Heathcliff or whatever cat was the one they remember from their era. I also wonder what things might have become larger-than-life icons in Polly Klaas’ memory right before she died, or what the last cartoon she watched was.

WB: What cartoons do you watch?

BH: None. I hate TV.

WB: Are you working on any other sculptures?

BH: Yeah, I’m in the mock-up stage for a six and a half foot tall Teen Wolf. Like when high school kids turn into werewolves in movies. It’ll look like that. It’s gonna be sweet.

WB: Any interest in doing commercial work?

BH: Yeah, I do some commercial work. I like big photoshoots sometimes. It’s crazy how many people will be standing around doing nothing but for some reason HAVE to be there. And I like working with other people. It reminds me of when I was in art school and we had to do group projects - and I always had the best idea! [laughs]

WB: You said you’re obsessed with early Corey Haim. You and me both! Now that hard living has taken it’s toll how do you feel about him?

BH: I think the tragedy of how his life has turned out is sort of my favorite thing about him. I think for him to have aged gracefully would have undermined how amazing he was as a kid. But to destroy his looks, his career and his life seems like going out in a beautiful blaze of glorious anti-glory.

WB: How was Corey Feldman ever considered even close to as hot as Corey Haim?

BH: Was he? I thought it was sort of a package deal. Haim was always my fave though.

WB: Let’s talk about your video work. What are you doing in video that’s different from your photography?

BH: I’m basically just fucking around. Right now video for me is more about the experience than the product. With my photographic work I definitely have a conceptual concern that I want to share, but every medium takes a while to get used to and I’m not really there with video yet. There are too many choices and I don’t have the discipline to make many of them yet. So the videos are more a good time than anything else, and that’s why I’ve only ever exhibited one. I doubt that I will have a video in any of my shows anytime soon.That being said, I like for there to be other levels to the work outside of what sits in the gallery, and that’s the reason for the blog, for doing interviews, for crank calling people and hiring people to start rumors about me. Video would fit in that realm right now too I guess.

WB: What’s your best crank call?

BH: Oh no, I’m not saying anything self-incriminating!

WB: You’re 24 years old, so presumably your work is still evolving. What has it been evolving towards recently?

BH: I think my concepts and they way that I communicate them has become increasingly complex. A few years ago the work was more illustrative. Now I think I spend more energy deciding which details I want to leave out instead of trying to make sure that every point is clear and easy to understand. Part of that is gaining more confidence in my audience and understanding the work as actually being viewed rather than just created in a vacuum.

WB: What do you wish you were working on?

BH: A feature film that would be a filmic interpretation of the entirety of Trent Reznor’s musical work, with every song he’s ever written as a continuous score playing in chronological order throughout the movie.
Brandon Herman is represented by Envoy. All images and artwork ©Brandon Herman

Ronke Osinowo (pronounced ron-key) is a hip London dyke, but her latest works will speak to any fag who’s ever been stuck in a depressing rainy port town – literally or figuratively. I Bring You Tilbury Town is a collection of her poems, lists, and verbiage, with illustrations by Damilola Odusote, that conjure images of breaking free from societal and familial entrapments alike. Being born to Nigerian parents and raised by Romany gypsies, Ronke’s experience in this place may just be unique.

Joe Eardly: What did you do over the weekend?

Ronke Osinowo: I was supposed to get out of London and head down to Rye for the weekend, but it was pissing with rain. I didn’t fancy tussling with soaked old dears at the bric-a-brac shops so I had a clear out at home instead. Some shocking stuff came to light - judging by the clothes I threw out, I’m not as stylish as i’d like to think.

JE: Is anyone really? Where do you hang out in London, when you are stuck there?

RO: Well, I live quite close to Vauxhall but rarely hang out there. It’s queer heaven apparently, Fire, QN, Hoist, The Tavern, Chariots. I do like popping by Horse Meat Disco once in a while. Otherwise I’m over in the east-end since most of my friends live there. I was born in Hackney and it’s changed so much demographically. Being brought up in a council house, I see no charm living in the inner-city. Some VERY interesting people walking the streets though.

JE: Ah, our mates from Horse Meat were over here in the East Village recently. Always a good time! So where exactly is Tilbury? I imagine it’s one of those depressing minor towns where the drizzle only stops for one hour a year and everyone rushes away from their pint to have a picnic of cold roast beef sandwiches, only to find that when they arrive at the park it starts drizzling again.

RO: You’re right about depressing, for sure! It’s about 25 miles east of London and it’s a dock town. It had chronic unemployment in the ’70s and ’80s which fuelled petty and violent crime. As for being born in Hackney it was a case of out of the frying pan into the fire. There used to be huge cruiseliners docked at the port every couple of months - that’s about as close to glamor as it got. The trade sailors often got robbed and beaten by the skins whilst on shore leave and there was a safe house (knocking shop) called the Stella Maris where the sailors could stay. There were no gays in Tilbury - far too much machismo - but there were quite a few sailors and a fair share of working men’s clubs. You decide.

JE: I’m starting to understand where you got your inspiration! Did you start writing as a kid?

OR: I recently found some old letters and cards and stuff from school. Amongst the crap and the gold I found a short story I’d written about a boy who got his heart broken. It was just short of one page - I’d dated it September 1981 so I guess that’s when I started.

JE: Still into boys then, eh? How did you come about putting your book together?

OR: From the outset I always knew my family set-up was unusual but not necessarily in a good way. Growing up it was a massive hindrance because there was so much negativity thrown at you on a daily bases - whether through physical or verbal abuse, being singled out as trouble or less intelligent, being poor, being black in a white town, being black in a white town with Romany parents, not accepting what the overwhelming majority thought. It can lead you down a very rocky road and put you in a very vulnerable position.

When one of my foster brothers came up to London to study illustration I was really inspired by his work. I dug out some things I had written in Tilbury and wrote a few new things. I thought Dami’s illustrations would enhance the words I had written and give them a greater sense of atmosphere, so I showed him a few lines and he came back to me with what he thought I was trying to get across.

JE: It makes sense that the poems and illustrations were conceived and created together – they’re beautifully interwoven throughout the book. I especially like ‘Woodland’ – it’s something everyone can relate to, but especially growing up a poof!

RO: It’s true what they say: you can’t escape your past - but I’ve found this expression applies largely to people who have experienced something in their past that was particularly unpleasant – people with pasts they want to escape from. If your memories of the past are rosy, this kind of phrase wouldn’t necessarily be in your consciousness. My past haunts me because the things that happened shaped me, but they were not things that I would ever like to experience again. The thought of returning to that state has not been fully exorcised from my mind.

JE: What is your relationship like now with Tilbury Town? Do you visit there often? What is it like?

RO: My relationship with Tilbury stopped when my foster parents died in 2006. They did an amazing job with such little resource or support. Tilbury is unique and an Everytown at the same time. Seeing some pictures recently, it was difficult to distinguish when they were taken – it could have been the ’60s, ’70s, ’80s or ’90s – turned out they were taken just a few weeks prior. That pretty much sums up Tilbury for me – its insularity makes for slow progress. There are some pictures at damilolaa.com - you can see for yourself.

JE: Are you reaching out to other kids in towns like Tilbury?

RO: I think some of the stuff is very personal yet at the same time very accessible to anyone who has felt like an outsider. I wrote the book to try and make sense of things that were going on in my life at the time and to prove that something creative can come from a rubbish situation. What I’ve been hearing from people who have read the book is that they can relate to what is being expressed even though their situations may be very far removed.

JE: I’d say that’s accurate – there is a real sense of trying to break free or escape throughout the book, and who hasn’t felt that when growing up? I got a kick out ‘Rules’ – it pretty much sums it all up.

RO: ‘Rules’ originated because I had to have some kind of mantra for surviving (that wasn’t drug or alcohol related). I tried to fit in (impossible), tried to be “good”, tried to be what I was told I should be and none of it worked. I was despairing and felt like I was being slowly crushed. We learned to fend for ourselves at a very early age and ultimately for me, things became easier to deal with when I followed rule 1.

JE: So speaking of all this escape, is there somewhere you would like to go?

RO: Space would be nice, but I’d prefer to be teleported than sit on a shuttle going stir crazy. That’s outer space by the way, not the club in Ibiza – though that would be a laugh as well. That was a random question!

JE: Are you a poet? Do you know it?

RO: I wouldn’t be so bold as to call myself a poet. Maybe one day. I’m more of an observer. I’m particularly fascinated by what motivates people. I always want to see behind the veil.

JE: Or through the glory hole?

RO: Well everybody loves cock, don’t they?

JE: What does cock culture mean to you?

RO: As far as cock culture goes, I think it’s in a period of transition. In my world, cocks are not synonymous with men, though I do have friends who would (and do) bend over backwards for it.

JE: For an East Village boy?

RO: Hot hot hot!

12 quick questions for Rodrigo Novaes,
Editor of WLTF (where these images came from).

What song would you like to accompany this interview?

“Holding out for a Hero” by ­ Bonnie Tyler.

What’s your story?

Born in Brazil in 1971, grew up in London, became an artist, moved back to Brazil, created WLTF, trying to make it work, and living life as well as possible. It’s funny when I think of it that way.

What’s your favorite city, and why?

London. Memories of growing up.

Who is your alter-ego?

His name is Roger Ego and he does most of what I would never dare. He was born from a misspelling of my name (Rodrigo) by a bewildered office clerk many years ago. From then on Roger has appeared from time to time to save the situation.

What was your most recent jerk-off fantasy?

Gorgeous black man at the back of the cinema. Amazing what we got up to, and nobody saw us!

Shave your balls, or free and wild?

It’s relative… depends on the mood one needs to achieve.

Street, bar, or internet cruising?

Parks!

Is your body a dumpster or a temple?

A dumpster turned temple, with kick-ass lighting.

What was the best thing you’ve ever stolen?

Someone’s boyfriend.

Describe “cock culture” in 5 words.

Small is better than nothing.

What’s your next big thing?

I can’t remember his name… but it’ll be next Tuesday.

Write your own obituary.

Today at 12am Roger Ego died quietly in his sleep. He fucked his way to glory, and he was the most glorious fucker, but now he’s dead, dead as dodo, and without a dildo.

Images, from top left, by Luizo Cavet, Leonash, Gowa, Aaron Krach. All images © the artists.

Over the years, the international art world has been enriched by the collaborative work of many artist-couples. Examples include the work of pairs such as Mike and Doug Starn (identical twin brothers), Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo (husband and wife), and Jake and Dinos Chapman (brothers).

Some same-sex partners, of course, round out the list. From England, there is the provocative work of Gilbert & George. From France, the homoerotic photography of Pierre et Gilles. And now, from Argentina, artist-lovers Leo Chiachio and Daniel Giannone, collaborating since 2001, are bringing change to art and culture in Buenos Aires, where some traditional sexual taboos persist.

I spoke with Leo and Daniel about seduction, embroidery, self portraits, Asian influences, love, ornamentation, Kabuki theatre, porno mags, Farrah Fawcett, art, queer culture in Argentina, Madonna, Mishima, toilets, their son-dog, and of course glitter. Read the Spanish version here.

Rafael Esquer: So, the first thing EVB wants to know is, who picked up who?

Daniel Giannone: It was 2001 in Argentina, and the country was going through a devastating financial crisis. Everyone was affected including, of course, the art world. It was then when visual artist Chino Soria had the idea of transforming his home into an art gallery. He invited 40 guest artists to exhibit. One weekend Leo’s piece “Happy” was on display. And I attended…

Leo Chiachio: First, we checked each other out, then, on a balcony I kissed Daniel. Apparently, it was a kiss that left a lasting impression.

DG: I was hooked. I wanted a second meeting, for a second kiss. Days went by. Our second date was at the Rojas Cultural Center. This time I was ready to jump Leo!

LC: Our rendezvous was Bar Cipriano, where we drank and listened to music. We ended up at my place. We’ve never been apart since.

RE: So, what came first?

D&L: In this order: seduction, sex, love, art.

RE: How do these things influence each other?

D&L: The love we feel for each other feeds us, thus nourishing the creation of our art. It’s all in a constant communion.

RE: When you were ten years old, how would you have answered the question “What do you want to be when you grow up?”

DG: What I told people was either a lawyer or a veterinarian, but secretly I wanted to be a classic dancer, a painter, a movie star or a soap opera actor.

LC: An artist, a veterinarian or a singer (a famous one, obviously!)
RE: As your artistic medium, you chose needlework, stitchery, and embroidery — all traditionally feminine pursuits. Why?

DG: We are interested in rescuing those activities that slowly have been relegated to the feminine world. We’d like to show that, as two men, we are totally free to enter and inhabit such a world.

LC: Also, after many years of being indoctrinated by academia, we now want to ignore it and bring to our work as painters, materials that belong to the crafts – those materials we used as children (glitter, embroidery, etc). As adults we want to play like children.

RE: Daniel, you started embroidery at a young age, taught by the nuns in your Catholic school. How did you start embroidery Leo?

LC: When I was very young I started making art on t-shirts and old shirts handed down by friends. Even though it was a time of economic crisis, the desire to create was even stronger, so I started making art with the materials I found around the house such as thread, clothes, buttons and so on. I used to like buying useless stuff in American flea markets. I would carefully save them as if they were treasures found on a deserted island.

RE: Well, not all your work is made of fabric and thread. I’m intrigued by “Collectable Throne.” Tell me about it.

D&L: We made it for the Cultural Center Recoleta in Buenos Aires. They invited selected artists to make an art piece using a toilet, so, we covered it with glitter, which we’ve been using in our work for quite some time. Our idea was to transform the toilet into a throne through beauty, with imagery from an imagined paradise where fire rises from beneath. It culminates as a paradise inhabited by us, surrounded with flowers. Love prevails in paradise - a world of flowers and love.

RE: Looking at your work and its use of atypical “artist’s tools” or materials makes me wonder what kind of stuff you collected as a child?

DG: Dolls, the same that my sister Nora had. I loved the ones made of velvet and glitter. Also, I collected postage stamps and art magazines. And as a teenager, I had a crazy collection of Farrah Fawcett photos.

LC: Tons of figurines, cars and any kind of magazine. And as a teenager, gay porno mags!

RE: What do you collect now?

D&L: Contemporary art created by our friends, art and design books, DVD collections (Sex & The City, The Sopranos, Six Feet Under) and Italian music.

RE: Diana Vreeland once said that we all need a splash of bad taste. What’s yours?

D&L: We are not sure if we have one, too many, or whether our life is full of splashes! We love Brazilian soap operas, B-movies, gossip magazines, American Idol auditions, reality shows…

RE: A few years back, EVB discovered some of Leo’s pieces – homoerotic images created by penetrating paper with a needle. Daniel, what were you doing back then?

DG: Acrylic and oil painting.

RE: Your opus is primarily self-portraits, right?

DG: Yes, but in addition to our self-portraits we also paint “Piolin”, our son-dog.

RE: Who else would you like to do a portrait of?

D&L: Saint Sebastian, the nudes of Botticelli, Andy Warhol, Marie Antoinette, Joan of Arc, Madonna, Nicole Kidman, Robert Downey Jr., Daryl Hannah, Ney Matogrosso.

RE: I see Asian influence in your work…
D&L: Yes, what’s interesting to us about many very traditional Asian cultures is how, from the very beginning, love stories between men (samurais, actors) get told despite the cultural taboos against them. In Japan, for example, in traditional kabuki theatre, women’s roles are played by men who start at a very early age. For many, this becomes their sweet sentence.

RE: Tell me about your interest in queer culture.

D&L: The interest has always been there, but it’s becoming increasingly stronger since we got together. We let art take total control of our lives, and we live our love freely. We value being part of this grand movement, increasingly growing, that is bringing change to a traditional society strongly rooted in Catholicism. Being openly and visibly gay means to be alive, to belong and to be protagonists of change, of history.

RE: Speaking of… can you share your impressions of queer culture in Argentina?

D&L: Since Argentina is a big country, we will speak mainly of Buenos Aires. In the last few years there’s been more acceptance of everything queer. That is, the creation of civil unions for same-sex couples, gay film festivals, many groups and organizations, gay pride, gay cruise ships that stop in Buenos Aires, more visibility of gays and lesbians in the media, even an exclusively gay five-star hotel. Lately, Buenos Aires has become an important gay-friendly destination.

RE: Is Argentina or South America ready for Leo and Daniel?

D&L: In Buenos Aires, sometimes yes, sometimes no. Down here being homosexual is still a big taboo. It’s not common to see two men living together. It’s still not accepted that two artists publicly create together using themselves as the subject of their work. A public gay relationship is not fully accepted. But we feel change is in the air.

RE: When you work and live together, what happens when you fight? What’s happens to your collaboration?

D&L: We discuss, talk and constantly speak up. We don’t always agree on what we want, but we’ve learned to listen to each other. This has made our relationship richer. It empowers the creative process. The diversity of thought makes us stronger. Fights slow down the creative process. Synergy is always present. Constant dialogue is indispensable to grow.

RE: Have any of your pieces caused controversy?

D&L: Often people are interested in knowing who made what, or they want to know the intimate parts of the creative process - the intimacy of our lives. Other times, controversy happens when questioning the conceptual part of the art. The interest lies in wanting to know the creative universe inhabited by two gay artists sharing their home and their art. Society has trouble understanding that it can be possible - but IT IS.

RE: Saint Sebastian, Yukio Mishima - what other gay characters influence your work? Who will show up in the future?

D&L: Our world is influenced by many disciplines like fashion – John Galliano, Alexander McQueen, Vivienne Westwood. Cinema – Pier Paolo Pasolini, Gregg Araki, Takeshi Kitano, Bruce LaBruce, Rosa von Praunheim. Music – Rufus Wainwright, George Michael, Madonna, Grace Jones, Ney Matogrosso. Literature – Yukio Mishima, David Leavitt. And urban legends like Irupé’s Love and El Pombero.

On the other hand, we are interested in how throughout history the roles or men have changed. Unlike the animal kingdom, men’s ornamentation in every civilization has changed. Historically, men have been more exotic in their adornment – hair, jewelry, make up – than women. However, this tradition has been relegated to women, demanding of men a universal image that is supposed to be virile and uniform. Globalization has contributed to make this tough male image universal. It is an aesthetic that has taken over the Western and Eastern worlds alike.

RE: How do you want to be remembered one hundred years from now?

D&L: As two men who learned how to transform their art into a way of living.

RE: What is your next adventure?

D&L: We are creating an embroidery series where we depict ourselves as aboriginals of every civilization. We dream of showing our work around the world. We’d like to have a show in New York, to have Galliano commission us to do an embroidery piece, and to have Madonna come to us for her portrait.
All images © Leo Chiachio and Daniel Giannone.
Click “more” for the Spanish version of this interview.

(more…)

Big Scot has been keeping the riff raff out of our bars and clubs for the last 20 years [applause]. He is absolutely an East Village legend, and absolutely not to be fucked with. He’s also a gentle giant, a writer, and an artist and musician in the tradition of what made the East Village hot in the first place. He may even be a murderer, but probably not. His storytelling can best be described as stream-of-consciousness. At any rate, he’s been around, seen a lot, done more, and luckily is a great friend of EVB because he’s naming names.

Weston: Pot, Ketel One - ready to go?

Big Scot: Yeah.

How about a background track for the readers. Name your tune.

Slayer, “Seasons in the Abyss”.

I think I’ve seen you maybe once without a metal t-shirt. What’s the Holy Trinity of metal?

Blood, sweat, and love.

I meant the bands.

The best live, Slayer. Black Label Society (BLS), and Queens of the Stone Age.
[since publishing this article Scot has sobered up and wants to change his original answer to Slayer, Black Sabbath and Judas Priest. What the hell was he thinking with Queens of the Stone Age?]

Surprised about that last one, but those are the three must-haves for EV boys that don’t know anything about metal?

Yeah.

Lets start with your public door-whore persona.

I am not a whore [laughs].

What doors have you whored before your current gig at Eastern Bloc, in the East Village (of course)?

What doors have I not whored should be your question. OK here we go. Limelight, Pyramid…

Limelight during the Michael Alig days?

This was before Michael Alig, but I used to sneak him in when he was, um, 19. I HELPED PROMOTE A MURDERER!

Did you help with the murder?

[pause]

OK, next question…

[laughs] No, I didn’t help with the murder, but I did know Angel.

Back to the doors.

Limelight, Pyramid, Boy Bar, The World, Mars, Sound Factory, Sound Factory Bar, Twilo, Barracuda [vomit noises, more vomit noises], The Cock.

I heard [redacted] waters down their drinks.

Yes, I believe they do. The first time I had a drink in there I was like this motherfucking Jack is fucking watered down you motherfucking bitch. I can’t stand those fucking assholes. One of them wanted to look at my paintings and I was like, “I would never sell you a painting, bitch. Even if you wanted the million dollar one” [laughs]. Can I finish my doors? OK, The Cock, The Park and now Eastern Bloc.

Speaking of Eastern Bloc, I’ve seen you turn away legions of hot boys. What the hell?

They didn’t have ID.

And? I have seen fake IDs handed to you. Not good enough?

[laughs] No.

Give us some dirt on the Eastern Bloc staff - but be nice it’s our favorite bar.

I don’t really have any dirt on any of them. They’re all friends of mine, we all get along and they’re great to work for. And all those clubs I listed - this is the first time I haven’t worked for a cokehead owner. The first one! I was like, wow, after 20 years of doing this, this is the first place with no cokehead owners.

We’re going to get sued.

No, I’m telling you the truth. They’re nice guys at Eastern Bloc and I really like everyone there. It’s small and it’s - oh we had one employee that was kind of funny - he used to do happy hour and used to play Tori Amos. You’d walk in and think “lets’s do some heroin and slit our wrists”. But he’s gone now.

Who was the last guy you threw out at Eastern Bloc?

Oh that was this guy last Friday. They called me in and the dancer comes over, “I need help, I need help, there are people on the stripper pole!” So I go over and I tell this one chick to get down, she gets down, and then there’s this big fucking guy, and he was screaming “HALLELUJAH JESUS! JESUS! AMERICA! AMERICA!”, and I said dude, you can’t be touching the pole while the go-go boy is trying to dance, so he looks at me, gives me this dirty look, and he takes his hand off the pole, and I go back to the door, and turn around, and his hand is back on the fucking pole, and I’m like dude, you can’t put your fucking hand on the pole, and he says “but I have to! If I don’t I’ll fall over!”, and I said I think its time for you to go and he gives me this look and says “try to throw me out”, and tries to stare me down, and he was a big fucker, and I was like ok bitch are you ready to go - I’m not in the mood, but then I suggested “you know, you’re fucked up, you need to get some air, lets go outside”. So we go outside and he’s like “thank you, I love you! Thank you for being so understanding” and waddled down the street home.

So when we hang out at the door with you, I love watching all the straight boys walk by all sly to check the place out, and then circle back and come in… or am I imagining things?

No, you’re not. Somehow my body odor attracts them. If you’re good looking, mental, and confused about your sexuality, then you’re in love with me. And I’m in love with you.

Um…

They come to ME! you’ve seen them, right?

I’ve seen it, I’ve seen it. They probably think you’re the guy from Harry Potter.

HAHAHA! Hagrid?

Yeah, exactly! What’s it like working with Daniel Radcliffe anyway?

Who’s Daniel Radcliffe?

Um… so the East Village has changed a lot over the last twenty years. What was it like when you first started doing doors in the neighborhood?

When I used to work at Pyramid on Avenue A, I had a big red bong underneath my chair, and when my friends showed up we’d take bong hits. That’s how cool it was back in the day. People would bring me beer… people were afraid… Avenue A was “alright”, Avenue B was “Beware”, Avenue C was “crazy” and Avenue D was “dead”. Now you walk down Avenue B and there are people with baby strollers. I miss when it was bombed-out buildings and junkies - it was like zombie land. I lived on 8th Street between B and C at one point - because I was between beware and craziness.

What’s the craziest shit you’ve seen in the last 20 years. I want names.

Ok this one will be gossipy. One time, this gossip columnist from [redacted] - I was working at The World, and they had this one section in the middle of the place called the “It Club”, and the staff would always go in there because we knew the beer cases were open and we could go in there and get beer, so my buddy and I were in there drinking a beer, and we see [redacted] over in the corner with some young guy with his pants down, and he was trying to get the guy hard but he couldn’t get hard because he was so fucked up, but he’s still sucking on his dick [sucking sounds], so we crouched down and he hears us giggling, so he stops and looks around - and then [sucking sounds].

I don’t think we should print that.

You don’t have to say who it is, just say “gossip columnist”.

I have funny fuck story. This guy shows up at Boy Bar, and he’s like “can I come in?”, and the other doorman told him (more…)

Religious artwork has always been rife with homoerotic imagery - the inevitable byproduct of a general social and cultural repression, gay artists who’s homosexuality was conveniently overlooked in exchange for more devotees, cash and power, and of course altar-boy loving priests (let the hate mail begin) - so when we saw Italian artist Diego Tolomelli’s work, rendered in a language most commonly associated with religion, we knew this was something we had to get to the bottom of.

Weston: So Diego - Italian and working in stained glass. Religious?

Diego Tolomelli: Not in the slightest. Yes, I’m Italian and Rome is hardcore Catholic, but I’m queer.

W: Any chance you were an altar boy?

DT: Not even close. I went to sunday school to learn to play guitar but I got bored very quickly.

W: Stained glass works are made partly from mouth-blown glass. An appropriate production method, no?

DT: Mouth-blown, painted, stroked with a badger brush - it’s enough to bring a sweat to ones brow. It’s sensuous work.

W: OK, the big serious question. The dichotomy of Christianity and homoeroticism, the sacred and the profane. What exactly is the connection between the two for you?

DT: In the history of Italian art, a whole host of our most famous artists were gay: Caravaggio, Botticelli and of course Michelangelo, but their patrons forced them to follow strict rules. Take the Sistine Chapel – all of the cocks were covered. But if you really want to see pornography in Christian imagery, take a look at medieval representations of hell. Christianity and the erotic are old bedfellows.

W: Do you feel any connection with that long line of gay men that created artwork for the Church? What if the Vatican gave you a call?

DT: I doubt the Pope would commission an erotic panel, publically anyway. As you can imagine I don’t really market myself to the Church – but should they suddenly started knocking on my door I’d welcome doing a nice Saint Sebastian.

W: Christian art has always had more than a few homoerotic images. Do you see your erotic work as part of that history, or are you simply borrowing the technique?

DT: Christian art also includes paintings on canvas, but that medium has never been seen as a particularly Christian one. The connection of stained glass with Christianity or the Church comes from the fact that it was an important patron, as were the aristocracy and others with money. Consequently, there is a connection between the medium and the Church in peoples’ minds so I like to play with that.

W: You worked in the UK for a few years, but left because of the “British climate”. Do you mean the social climate?

DT: No, I really mean the weather! I never experienced any discrimination about my sexuality or nationality - unfortunately in Italy things are quite different. I loved England because I think it is a meritocratic society and this gave me opportunities to grow in my work - but I like blue sky and aperitifs in the street, so…

W: You’ve also worked on several ‘traditional’ projects like the UK’s House of Parliament and a cathedral in Nigeria.

DT: Those were two very different projects – I enjoyed being a part of them because I learned so much. The first taught me a lot about UK political history including purple potatoes and the Cat and Mouse Act. Nigeria was an amazing experience. I met some beautiful people and to this day I crave returning to Africa. Abuja is a city of contrasts. There are areas without electricity or sanitation, yet there’s an ongoing competition between mosques and cathedrals to outdo each other.

W: How do you think the people from the Nigerian cathedral would react to your ‘other’ work?

DT: It’s a country that doesn’t respect the human rights of gay people. They have a long way to go to catch up to Italy, yet we’re lagging behind the rest of Europe. I imagine their reaction would be very strong. When I was there I watched a Nigerian comedian make a joke about a man being arrested because he had been found in the company of gay men three times. I imagine in the eyes of his audience my crime would be much more serious.

W: Have you experienced any violent reactions to your work?

DT: Luckily not yet.

W: Presumably your work doesn’t hang in many church windows. How do people generally see your work?

DT: This is my first year on my own and producing erotic panels but I’ve organized two exhibitions in Rome - one in the headquarters of Rome’s LGBT association, Mario Mieli, and a second where I managed to bring stained glass onto the dancefloor of PhagOff – a very cool queer night. I’m into taking the art to people - I’d love to do this in other countries. People also get to see my work on MySpace and my website, and of course liberating publications such as your own.

W: I love that you include a lot of visual cues that place the work in a very contemporary context: cute underwear, fetish gear, tattoos, sneakers. What other contemporary content are you bringing to your very ancient craft?

DT: The influences I bring center around queer awareness. Artistically I really like Pierre et Gilles and Gilbert and George and I’m influenced by the internet and MySpace and all the artists I meet there.

W: What are you working on right now?

DT: I’m working on a homoerotic vampire stained glass panel for a commission by an author of erotic literature, William Maltese, for a forthcoming book jacket.

W: What is your ultimate fantasy project?

DT: As with most fantasies I am attracted by size, subject and location. The bigger the window the more adventurous and impressive it can be. The subject would focus on an exploration of gender and a blurring of gender boundaries. Of course the Louvre, or Metropolitan Museum of Art would be amazing locations, but I would be happy with the Ely Museum of Stained Glass in England and/or the Smith Museum of Stained Glass in America.

However, as I said earlier, I’m into bringing my art to the people and I am attracted by collaborations with other artists and craftsmen. So, a free-standing stained glass sculpture, with fleshy fantasies and erotic undertones installed smack bang in the middle of an urban public space would be heavenly.

All artwork by Diego Tolomelli and © the artist, unless otherwise indicated.

So I can’t lie (well not very well) - I’ve never been to Iceland, although I was supposed to go last November with Søren, the boy I was kinda dating but then he met Marcus, who I was also kinda dating, which of course changed everything. So, no Recyatrip for me and no more Marcus… or for that matter Søren!

So I now have to console myself with a bottle of Brennivín and this delightful video for Sigor Rós’s latest track ‘Gobbledigook’ shot by original EVB Ryan McGinley.

Ok, so I’m in Paris, and by the way I don’t know what’s going on but FUCK the boys here are hot. Long shaggy hair is in in in. Anyway, there’s a show that opens here tomorrow about my daily fantasy, Gael Garcia Bernal.

The show is called “Saint Gael” by Vincent Gagliostro, who was nice enough to give EVB a preview of the show, so check it out. Vincent, by the way, is originally from New York, was a founding member of ACT UP and the political art collective GRAN FURY. Gay politics, activism, and incredible art. AMAZING! So, if you’re in Paris check out the show in real life at Miss China Beauty Gallery, 3 Rue Francaise, near Etienne Marcel, 1er, May 15 - June 9. I’ll be there rocking my cum shot shirt so say hi.

Vincent’s coming to New York in June, so count on EVB catching up with him in person!

From the artist’s statement:
SAINT GAEL (RE-USED)
statement: 1. (with a predatory gleam in his eye): “heaven’s mouth” - I thought, tearing his image from the magazine. The most beautiful mouth I had ever seen - Gael Garcia Bernal - a new subject.

Further retrieving images from numerous official and unofficial websites, it seemed I was moving from my original focus on his beauty to an encounter with my surpressed voyeuristic nature. Predatory nature. Musical nature. Music, because what I seemed to be on to was a kind of “sampling” much like a DJ/record producer does when creating a work.

Studying his (GGB) film “Y Tu Mama Tambien“, I started re-sequencing the images, removing bits here, adding bits there. For example, in one sequence Gael is fucking the girl companion of the roadtrip. By cropping her out of the movement and re-using the images I could bring my subject closer to my world of sex, desire and politics–three ideas inseparable in my fag world. This project has led me to explore my nature and find perhaps a new willingness to turn the cameras on me and my culture, gay men.

We’re not usually in the habit of making event announcements, but here’s a few things we think you should check out.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Stephen Petronio Company, April 1-6

Choreography: Stephen Petronio

Dancers: Michael Badger, Julian DeLeon, Elena Demyanenko, Davalois Fearon, Jonathan Jaffe, Mandy Kirschner, Shila Tirabassi, Amanda Wells

Music: Fischerspooner, Antony and the Johnsons, Lou Reed, Nico Muhly and Rufus Wainwright

Costumes: Ben Cho, Rachel Roy, Michael Angel, Tony Cohen, Tara Subkoff

The Joyce Theater, 175 Eighth Ave, NYC

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Ari Marcopoulos, book signing for The Chance is Higher, Thursday April 3, 6-8 PM

Dashwood Books, 33 Bond St, NYC

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Ryan McGinley, “I Know Where the summer Goes”, opening reception Thursday April 3, 6 PM

named from the Belle & Sebastian song of the same name:

Team (Gallery, Inc), 83 Grand St, NYC

Somewhere in-between the Sacred Band of Thebes’ victory over the Spartans and the premiere of Bruce LaBruce’s first gay zombie film at the Berlinale, was the apex of Western homosexuality. Plato’s Symposium may have inspired an army but it’s been nothing but trouble for homosexuals since the 4th Century BC. And yet, if there’s hope, it’s probably with Bruce LaBruce. The writer and filmmaker first appeared on the art and independent film scenes with his hyperbolic meditations on psycho-sexual theory and post-Marxist slogans, blending left-wing terrorism with fellatio, politics with hardcore porn. The newest addition to his oeuvre is Otto; or, Up With Dead People, in which he follows an “undead” twink around Berlin as he chows on roadkill and frolics with other zombies. Like all of LaBruce’s films, Otto is an overtly political film; he remains staunchly committed to the idea that homosexuality is revolutionary - and that our hetero-dominant culture has a long way to go before same-sex love has a place again in, say, military tactics. The underground hero spoke to East Village Boys recently about making a horror film, gay New York and why Berlin may be the next East Village.

Kate Sennert: Before we start plugging your new film, I wanted to ask you about Berlin, where it was shot. What is your favorite memory from that city?

Bruce LaBruce: I’ve spent so much time in Berlin that it’s become like a home away from home. I first went there when the wall was coming down, so I got to experience the city before it was integrated. It was fun in those days to go and show our films in the former East Berlin which was really hungry for experimental and gay work. But I really fell in love with the city when I shot Otto; or, Up with Dead People there. We shot all over the city so I got to know it better than ever before. It was really amazing to shoot in an old, huge cemetery that was very dark and Gothic, and they allowed us to dig a grave and bury Otto in it. We buried Jey Crisfar, who plays Otto, on his 19th birthday. We put too much earth on his chest the first take and he panicked and we had to quickly pull him out of the grave. He was crying so I had to give him a big hug. That was memorable. Another favorite memory would have to be when we had an event at Schwuz, this really old gay club, where Susanne Sachsse, who plays Gudrun in my movie The Raspberry Reich, read from the letters of Gudrun Ensslin which had just been published by her brother, Gottfried Ensslin. They were the letters that she wrote to her brother while she was incarcerated in Stammheim prison. Gottfried is a gay activist and he was there on the stage with us, so it was really quite something. Apparently it was quite scandalous.

KS: Germany was one of the first countries to allow gay marriage. What do you think is different about that culture’s relationship to sexual freedom versus America’s?

BLB: Well I’m from Canada and we have gay marriage too. In fact, I am married, to a Cuban named Antonio. He’s a Santeria priest. America is really falling behind in many ways. The resurgence of the right wing and of Christian fundamentalism has been a real setback for gay and feminist issues. America is actually the only western democracy that attempts to keep out people with HIV, for example. They can’t even have any international HIV-AIDS conferences in the US because of these policies. It’s really quite appalling. Berlin is exceptional though in terms of its sexual openness and freedom. Sometimes it feels like you’re back in the days of the Weimar Republic.

KS: When RAF’s Brigitte Mohnhaupt was released from prison last year, some press described her as the “most evil woman in Germany.” I know you made some artwork on the subject of RAF. Can you tell me a bit about it, and about your romanticism with militant revolutionaries in general?

BLB: It’s difficult not to romanticize left wing militant movements and groups, especially those from the late 60s and early 70s. Style was very important to groups like the RAF and the SLA and the Black Panthers, as it was later to the punk movement, and their politics were often interpreted through style. Just look at the transformation of Patty Hearst after she was abducted by the SLA. So the combination of a militant, urban guerilla style and an intense political idealism was quite appealing. Also if you look at the manifestos of these groups, the changes they were trying to bring about were very rational and democratic. They were against the rise of corporate power and its control of the media; they favored the rights of the working class and challenged the hegemony of the ruling classes; they agitated for equal rights regardless of race or class or gender. The only problem is that when they started blowing up buildings and killing people, their own moral high ground became totally discredited. My movie The Raspberry Reich is about how signifiers of radicalism have been co-opted and made impotent by pop culture and fashion. It’s really rather sad.

KS: Since we’re chatting under the auspices of East Village Boys, I wanted to ask you about one EV boy in particular: artist Terrence Koh. When did you first meet him? Under what circumstances?

BLB: I’ve known Terence Koh for a decade or so, back when he was Asianpunkboy on the internet. He went to Emily Carr art college in Vancouver, and he came to see a show I was part of there called Red 8. I was doing this performance in which I had a cracked-out hustler draped in an American flag and I was throwing buckets of blood on him and trying to get people to give him a blow job. The problem was that I got the recipe wrong for the blood so it was too syrupy and the hustler couldn’t get a hard on because he was on crack. So when someone was trying to give him a blow job he slipped and fell on his tailbone. It was very messy, but Terence seemed to like it. Later I introduced him to my gallerist Javier Peres at a show I had when Javier still had his gallery in San Francisco. The rest is art history, I suppose.

KS: What’s your favorite memory of the East Village? What’s your impression of the New York gay scene in general?

BLB: Well I hate New York now, and try to avoid it as much as possible. But in the 80s and 90s I used to love it and spent as much time there as I could, often three months of the year. Back then the East Village was still fun and a bit dodgy and not full of boring celubutards and vacuous rich people. I used to go to all the fun East Village back room bars like the Tunnel Bar and The Bar and Wonder Bar and Dick’s Bar and then later the great I.C. Guys. It only lasted a couple of years, but I.C. Guys, which was right beside Cherry Tavern on East 6th Street, was quite special. It was a tiny box of a bar that only served beer and wine, so you had to go next door to Cherry to get your hard liquor, which we did. I.C. Guys had only room for about four people at the tiny bar, and you could really only comfortably fit about twenty people inside. I once had a party there, after the premier of my movie Skin Flick, with about sixty people. You had to be body-surfed over the crowd to order a drink or to get to the tiny washroom. Scrawny blond boys used to pull out a milk crate and do a striptease on top of it. It was so much fun. I saw Jake Spears of Scissor Sisters dance there once or twice. My friend the writer Travis Jeppesen used to work there. He lives in Berlin now.

KS: Just this morning, while I was watching the trailer for Otto online, my flatmate shuffled over to my laptop and made me watch I’m Fucking Ben Affleck, a spoof bit Jimmy Kimmel did with Ben Affleck
in response to Sarah Silverman’s I’m Fucking Matt Damon. It occurred to me that Hollywood has finally embraced homosexuality. Is there such a thing as counter-culture anymore? What’s so exciting about being gay in 2008?

BLB: Well I guess you could say Hollywood has embraced homosexuality if you ignore the fact that movie stars would still rather commit suicide than admit publically that they’re gay or bisexual. Sarah Silverman embraces homosexuality in the same way that she embraces dog poop: it’s kind of gross, but I’ll touch it if I have to. In case you haven’t noticed, there has been a resurgence of anti-gay violence in America. Homophobia in hip hop has become not only common, but it’s considered cool. It’s actually quite nauseating. Suicide rates for gay teens still soar above those of straight kids. Beyond that, as long as you’re well behaved and not too femme (if you’re a guy) or butch (if you’re a girl) and you don’t flaunt it, it’s ok to be gay. Being gay is as exciting as you want to make it.

KS: Tell me about zombies, the Fleischerei and the Badeschiff. Where did the idea for Otto; or, Up with Dead People come from? Why did you shoot it in Berlin?

BLB: I shot Otto in Berlin because it has lots of Gothic locations, like beautiful old cemeteries and churches. I also like the scale of the buildings, with large doorways and staircases. I wanted Otto to be dwarfed by the city and seem isolated. We also had access to a lot of locations that anywhere else would be ridiculously expensive, but in Berlin they are cheap or even free - locations like the Badeschiff and the abandoned amusement park and the meat-processing plant. The idea for the movie came from me running into a number of kids in their late teens and early twenties who told me they felt dead or dead inside. I attributed it to the machinations of advanced capitalism, a system which deems property more valuable than human life.

KS: Have you made the first gay zombie film in history - or are there others?

BLB: There may be others, but Otto is the first melancholy gay zombie movie, I wager. And perhaps the first one with a gut-fucking scene.

KS: Who would you most like to cast in one of your films and why?

BLB: I’m really annoyed by celebrities and celebrity culture these days, so I’m not so keen about working with famous actors. I would rather cast my mother in one of my films.

KS: Last words?

BLB: Up with dead people!

For more unadulterated Bruce LaBruce, visit his blog.