World AIDS Day 2013

I've been thinking a lot today about my first job as a psychotherapist at the Free Medical Clinic of Greater Cleveland. Nearly all of my clients were gay and nearly all of those clients were HIV positive. Some were recently diagnosed while others were ill before AIDS even had a name. A whole generation of gay men were blighted by this disease. Many still are.

I remember the dead today. So many lives lost. So many stories that can never be told. So many dreams that will never be realized. So many gifts that will never be brought into this world.

Remember the generation of gay men who had to leave because of this disease.

The original image I used was captured by the photographer William Gedney at the June 26, 1983 gay pride parade in New York City. You can see the original here at the Duke University Libraries. 

Thanksgiving | The 45 Top Influencers of my Irreverent Ways as a Psychologist

So many people have come in and out of my office since I started figuring out this business of the therapeutic enterprise. In 1990 the very first person I ever worked with walked through my office door. He was a survivor of childhood sexual abuse. I was terrified--I was still a teenager and had absolutely no idea what I was doing. Two decades later he wrote to me and thanked me for being such a kind listener. 

Since then there have been 1,000s of people who have walked through my door. Each have left with me some piece of learning--some knowledge of the human experience. I'm thankful for what you have taught me. Time has sadly obscured some of your faces. Still, when I look back, so many of your stories remain vivid in my memory even if I've lost a connection to your physical presence. I often see glimpses of you in my office in the present day, standing around my patients and I, reflecting back lifetimes of experiences.

My work and skill--fairly or not--is built upon these memories over my past 25 years of work. 

I've been thinking a lot over the past few weeks of the other people who are in my office with me. I've had so many teachers who have helped me find the pieces that I needed in order to become a psychologist. 

It being Thanksgiving weekend, I thought it might be an interesting process to make a list of those people who stand with me when I work. I will add more as they come to mind. 

Lorene Mihalko - Yeah. My mother. The first psychologist I knew.

Michael Dwyer, Ph.D. - My mother's teacher and then years later mine.

Robert Mayerovitch, Ph.D. - My piano professor who taught me to slow down and be patient.

Denise Youngblood - The high school psychology teacher who knew before I did.

Sherri Bair, Ed.D. - Piqued my interest in how television reflects our psychologies. 

S. Lee Whiteman, Ph.D. - His big smile, warm heart, wisdom, and curiosity still follow me around. 

Nancy Gussett, Ph.D. - Her self discipline finally got me look for my own.

David Prock - The first person ever to make it okay to talk about the dark side of life.

Daniel Kirk, Ph.D. - The English professor who made the room quiet so I could tell my stories and truth.

Claire Cygan Young - Gave me the first client I ever worked with.

Edwin Hollander,  Ph.D. - Drove me nuts demanding that the whole world conform to the bell curve.

Manolo Guzmán, Ph.D. -  Gave me the courage to explore the New York that I needed to find.

Helen Marshall - Taught me to love, respect, and believe in those who no one else did.

Stephen Friedman Ph, D. - Taught me to talk out of turn and discard the rules.

Zora Meisner - Who showed me powerful lessons can be learned from those I dislike.

Mary Chipman - We discovered it together. Didn't we? And truffles. And catalogues. 

Jody Tellfair, Ph.D. - My therapist who noticed everything--every time--without demand.

Amy Barto - Who showed me a social conscious with boundaries.

Rev. Richard Sering - The holy man who made me make a promise.

Barbara Fields - My other therapist who made it okay to play. 

Steven James, Ph.D. - The professor who gave the space to be iconoclastic.

Judy Harden, Ph.D. - The first professor to convince me I have a gift to develop.

Shoshana Simons, Ph.D. - The woman who took years to bring me out of my shell.

Harriet Lubin - The professor who silenced me for critiquing orthodoxy. 

Maggie Jackson, Ph.D. - The professor who told me I had every right to critique orthodoxy.

Lisa Drogosz, Ph.D. - The young psychologist that convinced me to return for more

Maryann McGlenn, Ph.D.  - My first supervisor who gave me (a little) room to be myself.

Marshall Rosenberg, Ph.D. - The peacemaker and student of Carl Rogers.

Diana Shultz, Ph.D. - Still working on forgiving you for ripping up page 6 of a 5 page paper.

Glenda Russell, Ph.D. - Launched me on my journey learning about social constructionism.

Janis Bohan, Ph.D. - Her clear observations helped me see bigger pictures

Robin Cook-Nobles, Ed.D. - Everything, Robin. Your gifts are endless.

Lisa Desai, Psy.D. - Who made me feel safe enough to think multi-culturally.

Judy Jordan, Ph.D. - The most human, real, and honest person I've met. 

Barbara Lewis, M.D. - The first physician who thought I had important thoughts.

Peter Baldwin, Ph.D. - Who showed me anything is possible and I can be free.

Daniel Brown, Ph.D. - Introduced me to hypnosis and changed everything. 

Susan Hawes, Ph.D. - My dissertation chair who rescued me when I needed it.

Ken Garni, Ed.D. - I still laugh like a crazy Frenchman. I just close my door now.

LaTonya Sobzack, Ph.D. - I hope you still laugh like a crazy Frenchman

Kim Davenport, Psy.D. - You too. Keep laughing.

Paul Korn, Ph.D. - Courage. 

Wilma Busse, Ph.D. - You just rock in all ways. 

Kathryn Jackson, Ph.D. -  Her quiet nature showed me to look deeply.

Linda Field, Ph.D. - Who knew a psychologist could be playful and disciplined?

Joe Shay, Ph.D. - Next time you interview me I'm brining a sandwich, and I'll be just one man talking.

Joan Wheelis, M.D. - You reminded me to decide what kind of therapist I wanted to be. 

Debora Carmichael, Ph.D. -  You called me into the water and let me know it was okay.

Louise Ryder, Ph.D. - Who let it be okay to be human and imperfect.

Amy Briggs Bledsoe, Ph.D. - My hardcore friend.
Jennifer Strong, Psy.D. - Rainbow bright. You know what I mean?

Dear Young Therapist: Are You Ready to Jump?

Hieronymus Bosch / The Stone Cutting / Prado

The anti-psychiatry movement has garnered increasing popularity within the last few years. Criticisms have been lodged against the medicalization of the human experience. In particular, many observers have noted the increasing movement toward pathologizing human suffering and categorizing that pain as a psychiatric disorder requiring medical intervention.

This phenomena isn't particularly new. As long as we've had emotions, we've sought ways to control experiences that are viewed as unpleasant, unwanted, or otherwise out of the norm. Starting in at least neolithic times, we attempted to drive out unwanted behavior through trepanning--drilling burr holes into the heads of those suffering. In fact, it is still occurring, assuming this website isn't some sort of strange parody. In our quest to help alleviate suffering we've also tried hydrotherapy, cold wet sheet packs, continuous baths, hot boxes, metrazol therapy, insulin induced shock, electroconvulsive shock, magnets, and lobotomies. 

Ouch.

I've worked with clients who have undergone all of these treatments with the exception of trepanning. I'm not that old. The video below offers glimpses of many of the various treatments. 

And then there is psychotherapy. So many kinds of psychotherapy.

The director of training of my postdoctoral fellowship, Joseph Shay, once handed us a list of every type of therapeutic intervention for mental illness that he could find. It ranged from some of the ones mentioned in this YouTube clip, to primal scream therapy, to dialectal behavioral therapy. We laughed at some and mostly we felt superior because we were being trained in the modern best practices.

As I've written before, Joe reminded us that in 10, 20, or 30 years we'd look back on our careers as psychologists and be horrified at what we thought constituted good therapy. Times change. We move forward. Joe taught us to remember that we have always tried our best to help, we can only help in the ways we know, and we can only know what we know when we know it.

We get better.

Slave Memorabilia: On Sale at eBay

New York Historical Society

Some years ago I spent time in Louisville Kentucky. The memory that stands out most is driving through Bourbon country in a red convertible listening to music just a little too loud. I think both myself and the people I encountered shared a mutual appreciation of the exotic animal we found each other to be.

I was recently reminded of this trip while reading a post on the blog "We are Respectable Negros" entitled "eBay Removes Holocaust 'Memorabilia' From Its Website. Why do they Continue to Sell Artifacts Related to Enslavement of Black Americans?"

While driving around in my rented red convertible, I happened upon a store specializing in selling Africana items. Toward the back of the store I wandered myself right into another world. The shopkeeper had a display case of tools used by white slave owners to maintain the system of brutal oppression over human beings with darker complexions.

I was overwhelmed.

Pictured on the above: "According to a letter that accompanied these shackles upon their donation to the Historical Society in 1921, they were cut off teenage slave Mary Horn of Americus, Georgia, by Colonel William W. Badger of the 176th Regiment New York Volunteers, more than a year after Lincoln issued the Emancipation Proclamation. Mary is said to have belonged to a Judge Horn, who riveted the irons to her legs with his own hands to prevent her from walking to the next plantation to see her beloved, George. George begged Colonel Badger to free Mary from her shackles and supposedly held her over an anvil while Badger cut them off."

I read about slavery. I studied the Civil War. I thought I knew a lot about the era. As a young doctoral student at a progressive institution, I was developing an awareness of the ways in which what I know is a representation of the view of the world that people with power and privilege have.

Myriad are the things that weren't included in the lesson plans that my teachers provided me.

So there I was in the back of an Africana store face-to-face with manacles that bound the feet of human beings, whips that were used to enforce a system of terror upon their backs, tags that identified  and categorized what kind of property a particular human being was, and numerous price lists.

It was an overwhelming and powerful experience to be so close to something that for me, a white man, seems as remote as anything else I might read about in a history text book. I must have just stood there for 20 minutes looking silently. I don't even know if I moved. The owner of the store ended up standing next to me silently as well. The distant was no longer distant for me. Slavery was a tangible experience through those manacles that someone once was forced to wear--and strangely (or not) the oppression our country engaged in became even more incomprehensible for me.

I thought about buying the manacles. I thought about touching them and holding them. I ended up doing neither. It didn't feel like they were mine to touch or own. It felt like it would have been a violation to have done either.

The shopkeeper gave me hug. I thanked her and walked out of the store without saying another word. They seemed unneeded.

15 years later I'm still thinking about that store and experience.

I can see the complicated ways in which items from the Holocaust or slavery might be powerful items/tools for people to make deep and transformative connections to a distant past. I also worry, and believe, that very few people would actually respect these objects for what they are: a piece of a humanity that was discarded that should be honored, revered, and remembered.

I hope eBay shoppers think long and hard about what it means to own these items--and what it means to have owned people--prior to their purchase. 

There aren't any refunds. 

Rob the Rainbow

This advertisement for Jester Wools, suggesting that their product can make gayer garments, is just far to amusing to not share immediately. 

It's Only a Paper Moon

"It's Only A Paper Moon"

It is only a paper moon
Sailing over a cardboard sea
But it wouldn't be make believe
If you believed in me

Yes, it's only a canvas sky
Hangin' over a muslin tree
But it wouldn't be make believe
If you believed in me

Without your love
It's a honky tonk parade
Without your love
It's a melody played in a penny arcade

It's a Barnum and Bailey world
Just as phony as it can be
But it wouldn't be make believe
If you believed in me

Without your love
It's a honky tonk parade
Without your love
It's a melody played in a penny arcade

It's a Barnum and Bailey world
Just as phony as it can be
But it wouldn't be make believe
If you believed in me

Images of men on a paper moon keep coming up in my search through vintage images. None of them can be traced back to a specific story, yet all depict a moment of intimacy between men that was witnessed by a camera nearly a century ago. I love them and the hints they give us about the moments people shared together in another era. 

No one seems to know where the paper moon came from. 

The first reference to a paper moon in a failed Broadway play called The Great Magoo. The song, with music written by Harold Arlen with lyrics by E. Y. Harburg and Billy Rose, was eventually used in the 1933 movie Take A Chance. In World War II the song was reprised by Ella Fitzgerald and Nat King Cole. Since that time scores of artists have remade this jazz standard.

It seems however that by the time Ella and Nat were singing It's Only a Paper Moon, the pictures were already started to disappear. Few pictures of World War II era soldiers can be found with this backdrop. The vast majority of the images seem to come from the 1900s into the 1930s. 

Photography became available to the mass market in 1901 when Kodak released the Brownie. Freed from the need to cary around bulky equipment and toxic chemicals, the average person was able to document their experiences in the world for about a dollar (the cost of the first Brownie). In a book called the Artistic Secrets of the Kodak, Austrian architectural critic Joseph August Lux wrote that the inexpensive cameras allowed people to "photograph and document their surroundings and thus produce a type of stability in the ebb and flow of the modern world."

Perhaps the paper moon pictures were an effort to preserve the fleeting moments of joy and pleasure between friends at carnivals, festivals, and parties in turn of the century America?

The Queer Nation Manifesto

This morning I read an article in the New York Times an article that made mention of Queer Nation protesting in New York. Good to see them back. Modern social movements have seemed to lose the power needed to disrupt the status quo and bring about meaningful social change.

The website History as a Weapon has printed the text of a manifesto originally passed out by people marching with the ACT UP contingent in the 1990 New York Gay Pride Day parade. I'm reprinting the manifesto here. 

It reminds me of a time when social change was about liberation and freedom -- not conformity and becoming part of the status quo.

Queer Nation Manifesto

How can I tell you. How can I convince you, brother; sister that your life is in danger. That everyday you wake up alive, relatively happy, and a functioning human being, you are committing a rebellious act. You as an alive and functioning queer are a revolutionary. There is nothing on this planet that validates, protects or encourages your existence. It is a miracle you are standing here reading these words. You should by all rights be dead.

Don't be fooled, straight people own the world and the only reason you have been spared is you're smart, lucky, or a fighter. Straight people have a privilege that allows them to do whatever they please and f--- without fear. But not only do they live a life free of fear; they flaunt their freedom in my face. Their images are on my TV, in the magazine I bought, in the restaurant I want to eat in, and on the street where I live. I want there to be a moratorium on straight marriage, on babies, on public displays of affection among the opposite sex and media images that promote heterosexuality. Until I can enjoy the same freedom of movement and sexuality, as straights, their privilege must stop and it must be given over to me and my queer sisters and brothers.

Vintage Gay America: Crawford Barton

I almost passed by this image. It appears on first look to be a rather uninteresting scene of late 1970s New York or San Francisco. After looking a little closer and dwelling on the afternoon light illuminating the men, I decided to dig a little deeper. The glowing afternoon light gives these men the appearance of coming out into the light.

“I tried to serve as a chronicler, as a watcher of beautiful people - to feed back an image of a positive, likable lifestyle― to offer pleasure as well as pride.”

American photographer Crawford Barton (June 2, 1943 - June 10, 1993) chronicled the rise of gay culture in San Francisco from the late 1960s through the devastation brought on by HIV and AIDS in the 1980s. 

Barton's partner of 22 years, Larry Lara died of AIDS related illnesses shortly before Crawford Barton joined the overwhelming chorus of creative men dead from AIDS on June 10, 1993. It is estimated that more than 650,000 have died in the United States from this plague.

There are used copies of a book of Barton's work available on Amazon. The GLBT Historical Society in California holds all of Barton's papers and studio work. Here are a few of his images. Let them invite you into a world when the gay community was just waking up and discovering their own liberation.

Titicut Follies: An Asylum for the Criminally Insane

"They was gonna take my balls out of me... I told the doctor before I come here that I didn't want my balls taken out of me, so they took the cords out instead."

Titicut Follies, a 1967 documentary film by Frederick Weismann, depicts the miserable and inhumane existence of inmates living in Bridgewater State Hospital for the Criminally Insane.

 It's not easy to watch. It hasn't always been easy to find a copy of the movie to watch, either.

Shortly before screening at the 1967 New York Film Festival, Massachusetts sought a legal injunction banning the release of the documentary. These actions come at a time when there was significant negative press about the institution and the state's handling of people with mental illness.

Despite the filmmaker getting permission from all the people shown in the film as well as the superintendent of the facility (who appears to have used the documentary as a tool to try to get more funding), Massachusetts claimed that the permission was not valid. In the end, the film was screened at the New York Film Festival. However, a year later Massachusetts Superior Court judge Harry Klaus ordered the filmed removed from distribution because of claims that the film violated the patients' privacy and dignity.

Wiseman appealed the superior court decision to the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court. The court allowed for a limited distribution of the film allowing it to be shown only to doctors, lawyers, judges, health-care professionals, social workers, and students in these and similar fields. Further appeals to the US Supreme Court were refused.

For years hardly anyone saw this film. For years, the men at Bridgewater languished, often naked and in solitary confinement. This institution was one of the myriad examples of  people with mental illness being treated like unwanted animals.

Who were the men at this institution? How about the man who painted a horse? One inmate was sent to Bridgewater in 1938 because he painted a horse with stripes to make it look like a zebra. He was a fresh fruit vendor and in order to increase sales and get more attention, he though it might be a good idea paint his horse. He was arrested for public drunkenness at age 29 and died at Bridgewater from old age. He was supposed to serve two years.

These men are not gay | This is not a farmer | Disfarmer

Perhaps an example of the original hipsters? I almost queued this up on Tumblr with a witty descriptor without a second thought. I probed a little deeper into the history of this image and am glad I did. It turns out to be a jewel of a photo that takes us on an exploration of the deep south.

The sixth of seven children born to a large German immigrant family in rural Arkansas, Mike Meyers (1884-1959) separated from his background and renamed himself Disfarmer. It is said that "he even claimed at one point in his life that a tornado had lifted him up from places unknown and deposited him into the Meyers family."

I may consider changing my name to Dispsychologist. If I do Maggie will be known as Disdog. This however is a topic for another dispost.

A self taught photographer, Disfarmer set up shop on the back porch of his house in Heber Springs Arkansas. Several years later the house was destroyed in a storm and Disfarmer set up shop in downtown Heber Springs where he worked for the rest of his life.

An opera was written about an imagined vignette of Disfarmer's life.

"Disfarmer's reclusive personality and his believe in his own unique superiority as a photographer and as a human being made him somewhat of an oddity to others. Having your picture taken at Disfarmer's studio became one of the main attractions of a trip into town." (read more here)

Disneyland Voce: Home Videos of the First 5 Months of Visitors

From the creator of this video:

This is a video I’ve wanted to dish for years--a video that contextualizes Disneyland within the political and cultural events of the early 1950s. “Disneyland Voce” is distilled down from a dozen home movies, all shot in 1955, during the first five months that Disneyland was open to the public. Here’s one reason I love home movies: they reveal the vacation experience as taken by the average guest. Disney has produced reels of film documenting the park during its early years (most notably “Disneyland U.S.A.” in 1956 and “Gala Day at Disneyland” in 1959), but professional footage presents the park under ideal conditions. Home movies lay down the scenery as a typical guest would have experienced it. If you’ve ever wondered what it was like to visit Disneyland when it first opened, buckle into your DeLorean and hit the play button on YouTube.

Read more here, including the 14 things you might miss on your first viewing. 

Photos are Not Always What They Seem

David Trullo/A True History-Alterhistory

While sorting through images depicting men in relationships, I almost passed by this one without a second thought. The picture does not add anything to my collection: there are hundreds of pictures of young men wearing military uniforms that are holding hands. There are scores of images of men from the World War I era.

I expanded the picture to look a little closer at the details. Enlarged, the picture takes on a surreal quality. The lighting and tones are a little off and lends an artificial quality to the image. Something doesn't seem quite right.

This is, of course, because there is something that is not right about the image. There is something unreal about it.

The components of the image are real. Each of the two young boys in uniform existed at some point in history. The background is a real place that once existed.

An artist, named David Trullo, collected pictures similar to the ones I have, manipulated and altered them, and created an alternative history that did not actually happen. While the boys and background were at one time real, they were never real together at the same time.

In his artist's statement, Trullo writes

Vintage Sailors: An Awkward Realization

Photo Credit: Ian Swart

This picture tells an interesting tale. On multiple sites across the net this image is curated on blogs suggesting it depicts two couples on a double date.

It doesn't actually depict any sort of actual dating. 

Lewis Swart is pictured in the front left along with three of his Navy buddies. The image was taken at the Aquarium Restaurant in New York City sometime during the World War II era. 

If you'd like to learn more about "Grandpa Swart" visit his grandson's Flicker page. The images are a wonderful collection of visual history of one family's experiences in World War II.

This photo provides a great example of how an image can take a life of its own. It is easy to see what we'd like: it takes a little bit of research to see what that actual story is.
For more images of vintage men and their relationships (some gay, some straight) visit: Two Men and Their Dog; Adam and Steve in the Garden of Eden: On Intimacy Between Men; A Man and His Dog; The Beasts of West Point; Vintage Men: Innocence Lost | The Photography of William Gedney; It's Only a Paper Moon;Vintage Gay America: Crawford Barton; These Men Are Not Gay | This Is Not A Farmer | Disfarmer; Desire and Difference: Hidden in Plain Sight, Come Make Eyes With Me Under the Anheuser Bush, Hugh Mangum: Itinerant Photographer, Two men, Two Poses; Photos are Not Always What They Seem,Vintage Sailors: An Awkward Realization, Three Men on a Horse, Welkom Bar: Vintage Same Sex Marriage, Pretty in Pink: Two Vintage Chinese Men, Memorial Day Surprise: Vintage Sailor Love, Memorial Day: Vintage Dancing Sailors, The Curious Case of Two Men Embracing, They'll Never Know How Close We Were, Vintage Love: Roger Miller Pegram,Manly Affections: Robert Gant, Homo Bride and Groom Restored to Dignity, The Men in the Trees, The Girl in the Outhouse, Tommy and Buzz: All My Love,Men in Photo Booths, and Invisible: Philadelphia Gay Wedding c. 1957. You can also follow me on Tumblr.

Three Men on a Horse

What are these three men doing hanging out on a fake horse?

Visiting San Francisco, obviously.

Why these three men got up on this horse is lost to history. The where is a little bit easier to find.

The Cliff House (look up  in the right corner) was a popular tourist destination. The original burnt in 1907.

For the curious reader, you can read all you ever wanted to know about Sutro's Cliff House here, here, here, here, here, and here.

For curious reader's who would rather watch a video you might be interested in this one by Thomas Edison that depicts the Sutro Baths.

As for the three men. They were probably friends--or brothers--stopping off in town. Perhaps they were heading off to war? Their image, as many other's that depict vintage men in relationships, often are seen to represent gay relationships. They aren't. These images are largely a reminder of earlier times when men had more freedom to express intimacy as part of a friendship.

For more images of vintage men and their relationships (some gay, some straight) visit: Two Men and Their Dog; Adam and Steve in the Garden of Eden: On Intimacy Between Men; A Man and His Dog; The Beasts of West Point; Vintage Men: Innocence Lost | The Photography of William Gedney; It's Only a Paper Moon;Vintage Gay America: Crawford Barton; These Men Are Not Gay | This Is Not A Farmer | Disfarmer; Desire and Difference: Hidden in Plain Sight, Come Make Eyes With Me Under the Anheuser Bush, Hugh Mangum: Itinerant Photographer, Two men, Two Poses; Photos are Not Always What They Seem,Vintage Sailors: An Awkward Realization, Three Men on a Horse, Welkom Bar: Vintage Same Sex Marriage, Pretty in Pink: Two Vintage Chinese Men, Memorial Day Surprise: Vintage Sailor Love, Memorial Day: Vintage Dancing Sailors, The Curious Case of Two Men Embracing, They'll Never Know How Close We Were, Vintage Love: Roger Miller Pegram,Manly Affections: Robert Gant, Homo Bride and Groom Restored to Dignity, The Men in the Trees, The Girl in the Outhouse, Tommy and Buzz: All My Love,Men in Photo Booths, and Invisible: Philadelphia Gay Wedding c. 1957. You can also follow me on Tumblr.

The Mill Girl

Gravestone of Louisa Maria Wells

Early yesterday morning I headed to the Lowell Cemetery for a morning walk with Maggie. Listed on the National Register of Historic Places since 1998, the cemetery was founded in 1840 and dedicated on June 20, 1841. At the time of the cemetery's opening, there were no public spaces in the city of Lowell. The cemetery's website writes that that it "soon became a place of refuge for outdoor pleasures such as strolling and bird watching amid shrubs and flowers close to the city."

Off along the edge of the cemetery I found this sculpture which serves at the tomb stone for Louisa Maria Wells. The inscription reads, "Out of the fibre of her daily tasks/she wove the fabric of a useful life/Louisa Maria Wells/Died February 20, 1886."

That got me thinking about what kind of useful life she might have had. As it turns out, I'm glad I asked. The story that Wells left behind is interesting--and relatively hidden.

Wells, born in Vermont on October 8, 1815 and died on February 20, 1886, spent most of her life working in the Lowell Mills. From the June 30, 1936 edition of the Lowell Centennial:

Pretty in Pink: Two Vintage Chinese Men

Two Chinese Men in Matching Traditional Dress, c, 1870s 

While this image of two Asian men does not portray the men as having a particularly intimate relationship, it does show men who usually don't find their way onto websites chronicling intimacy between men. The vast majority of vintage images that bloggers post depicting intimate relationships between men are of white men. It's rare to find images of men from other races.  

This image is also also an excellent example of how our unconscious associations with certain symbols shape the meaning of what we see. This picture on the left of two Asian men with pink robes--they must be gay, right? 


The pink robes worn by the two men in this picture read to many bloggers as something that constitutes gayness. It's not necessarily a signifier of sexual orientation or attraction. Beyond the pinkness, I can't fathom why people listing this image on blogs and Tumbler would see this picture as one that depicts a vintage gay relationship.

The thousands of observations we make about people in our silent and mostly unconscious process of categorizing and stereotyping people into easily understood categories aren't any more accurate that are assumptions about the color pink in this photograph. Our categories and stereotypes are useful heuristics--but they need to be constantly evaluated and checked with actual data.

In all probability, these men are not gay. It's unclear whether or not they even have any sort of relationship (intimate or not). 

Perhaps a reader with knowledge about 19th century Chinese history might come upon this blog and share some thoughts (anyone read Mandarin? The text in the background might say something interesting). 

The men in the image, the story about why they were captured on film, and who the photographer was are currently unknown. It's fairly easy, however, to find out a lot about some basic identifying information about the image. 

This albumen silver print from a glass negative, produced sometime in the 1870s, is owned by the Metropolitan Museum of Art. The image, not currently on display in the museum, is one of 8,500 photographs from the Gilman Paper Company Collection. If you want to do some very deep research on the people who collected this photographs, check out these two articles about the rise and fall of the Gilman family fortune: here and here. 

Beware of what you think you see when you look at photographs. We easily see what we want to see in vintage photographs. It's much more difficult to stand back and let the image tell us the story it has to tell.

This goes for viewing people in your day-to-day life, too. It's always more challenging--and rewarding--to stand back and let a person tell their own story rather than to hear the story we think they should tell.

For more images of vintage men and their relationships (some gay, some straight) visit: Two Men and Their Dog; Adam and Steve in the Garden of Eden: On Intimacy Between Men; A Man and His Dog; The Beasts of West Point; Vintage Men: Innocence Lost | The Photography of William Gedney; It's Only a Paper Moon;Vintage Gay America: Crawford Barton; These Men Are Not Gay | This Is Not A Farmer | Disfarmer; Desire and Difference: Hidden in Plain Sight, Come Make Eyes With Me Under the Anheuser Bush, Hugh Mangum: Itinerant Photographer, Two men, Two Poses; Photos are Not Always What They Seem,Vintage Sailors: An Awkward Realization, Three Men on a Horse, Welkom Bar: Vintage Same Sex Marriage, Pretty in Pink: Two Vintage Chinese Men, Memorial Day Surprise: Vintage Sailor Love, Memorial Day: Vintage Dancing Sailors, The Curious Case of Two Men Embracing, They'll Never Know How Close We Were, Vintage Love: Roger Miller Pegram,Manly Affections: Robert Gant, Homo Bride and Groom Restored to Dignity, The Men in the Trees, The Girl in the Outhouse, Tommy and Buzz: All My Love,Men in Photo Booths, and Invisible: Philadelphia Gay Wedding c. 1957. You can also follow me on Tumblr.

Memorial Day Surprise: Vintage Sailor Love

Courtesy of Indiana University

While selecting some images of vintage military men for my previous Memorial Day post, my eyes lingered for a few moments on this picture of two sailors kissing. I wondered if it was an actual vintage photo or if, perhaps, it was a more contemporary photo made to look vintage. I surprised when looked into this image. I found a whole lot more than I expected!

This picture looked vaguely familiar to me. In 1988 an artist collective, Gran Fury, in association with ACT-UP (AIDS Coalition to Unleash Power) started producing social protest art about the AIDS pandemic. I was peripherally involved in the Cleveland ACT-UP chapter and later participated in some protests with the group in NYC.

No wonder this image looked familiar. It was one of the most iconic works of art that Gran Fury made--I probably saw it a hundred or more times when I was in my early 20s. 

If you want to do some deep research, check out this New York Times article When Political Art Mattered, visit the New York Public Library and explore their Grand Fury collection, and read this review of a Gran Fury art exhibition at NYU.

This isn't the end of our journey in this history of this image of two sailors kissing. The original image was displayed at an exhibition at the Kinsey Institute Art Gallery on the Indiana University campus in Bloomington. As part of an exhibit called Love and War, the original image leaves no mystery about the feelings these two sailors had for each other. Read a review of the exhibition here. 

The original image is handsome and sexy, erotic and tender. It's also NSFW, so you'll have to journey to my Tumblr page to see the original version.

I still don't know when, where, or why the image was produced. I've emailed the curator at the Kinsey Gallery to see if she has any additional information. If I learn more, I'll update this post.


For more images of vintage men and their relationships (some gay, some straight) visit: Two Men and Their Dog; Adam and Steve in the Garden of Eden: On Intimacy Between Men; A Man and His Dog; The Beasts of West Point; Vintage Men: Innocence Lost | The Photography of William Gedney; It's Only a Paper Moon;Vintage Gay America: Crawford Barton; These Men Are Not Gay | This Is Not A Farmer | Disfarmer; Desire and Difference: Hidden in Plain Sight, Come Make Eyes With Me Under the Anheuser Bush, Hugh Mangum: Itinerant Photographer, Two men, Two Poses; Photos are Not Always What They Seem,Vintage Sailors: An Awkward Realization, Three Men on a Horse, Welkom Bar: Vintage Same Sex Marriage, Pretty in Pink: Two Vintage Chinese Men, Memorial Day Surprise: Vintage Sailor Love, Memorial Day: Vintage Dancing Sailors, The Curious Case of Two Men Embracing, They'll Never Know How Close We Were, Vintage Love: Roger Miller Pegram,Manly Affections: Robert Gant, Homo Bride and Groom Restored to Dignity, The Men in the Trees, The Girl in the Outhouse, Tommy and Buzz: All My Love,Men in Photo Booths, and Invisible: Philadelphia Gay Wedding c. 1957. You can also follow me on Tumblr.
update

Hi Jason,

Thanks for contacting me about the photograph of the kissing sailors from World War II.  We have several photographs from that shoot, which was done in San Diego by an unknown photographer.  I learned more about the images when someone from ACT UP contacted me a couple of years ago.  He said that one of the men in the photo saw the Gran Fury poster and contacted the ACT UP office to let them know that he and his boyfriend were the men in the image.  They were sailors in WWII who were approached by a photographer and invited to pose for him.  They then shipped out and never saw the photographer again.  This man had no idea that the photographs had been distributed until he saw the ACT UP campaign using the cropped version of one of the photos.  The full story is given in the catalog for the show "Gran Fury: Read My Lips" that was held in NY last year: 

With best wishes,

Catherine

Catherine Johnson-Roehr

Curator, The Kinsey Institute

Indiana University