13 minute read

Uncovering Taboo Sexualities Through 20th-Century Art: Tom of Finland, Sam Steward, G.B. Jones, & Steve Masters

written by M.D. Cabot | layout by Shay Suban

CW: mentions of suicide, sex

Advertisement

Special thanks to the Tom of Finland Foundation for supplying me with some of the more hard-to-find illustrations. You have been a wonderful support team. Much love to Durk, Sharp, Marti (+ Cleo), Dan, Louie, Toni, Marc, and the rest of the team!

Some call Tom of Finland the daddy of gay culture. He’s engineered a central motif: the leatherman — one that has stuck itself to the core of the hypermasculine gay identity. This fetishist archetype has had enormous influence on queer identities and communities.

For years, many critics have believed that Tom’s “dirty drawings” — as he liked to call them — are distasteful or too explicit, but it is important to recognize that his images changed the gay community’s self-image.

Tom, born Touko Laaksonen in 1920, had many influencers that helped him to shape his stylized, intensely sexualized and fetishistic drawings. Raised in the southwestern Finnish countryside by a pair of schoolteachers, he was neighbor to farmers, loggers, and other male laborers: the first major inspiration for his illustrations. His first crush was a muscular farmhand (“Urho,” meaning hero) on whom Tom began to spy when he was just 5 years old. If not for Lady Godiva, I would have thought ‘peeping Tom’ was coined by Tom of Finland!

After moving to Helsinki in 1939 for art school, big city life exposed Tom to a melting pot of masculine beauty; he took an interest in drawing sailors, policemen, and construction workers. Life in a capital meant more cruising spots for Tom, but before he could settle in completely, he was drafted for WWII in February, 1940. He served as second lieutenant as an anti-aircraft officer until the war was over. It was the army that solidified Tom’s fetishistic and artistic interest in uniformed men. The period that followed the war saw a rise in biker counterculture, from which he borrowed many ideas: leather, motorcycles, heavy boots.

Inspired by artists like Etienne and George Quaintance, Tom’s style was also intensely macho. He was eager to represent gay men in a hypermasculinized form, having only been exposed to the limited stereotypes of gay men as effeminate and flamboyant. Camp style was present in early representations of 20th century homosexuality, but not everybody resonated with it. Tom’s art gave way to an alternative that many gay men sought out. Both scenes are essential to the queer community; they illustrate that human behavior is inherently performative in nature, bringing in various styles and trends that remain enormously popular today.

When the war was over and Tom returned to regular life, he returned to the popular cruising spots he’d once explored. Jay Green’s 1980s thriller, “Cruising,” with Al Pacino reveals to the public a fundamental part of gay history — one that is often taken for granted nowadays. Cruising has been reshaped in today’s era, largely due to hook-up apps like Grindr, SCRUFF, Jack’d, Daddyhunt, and the rest. The system and culture of cruising had an immense influence on Tom’s work and is a central theme in many of his images.

It was while cruising in 1956 that Tom met Veli, his lover for the following 28 years. Around that time, a friend suggested that he submit his art to an American beefcake magazine. Bob Mizer — an acclaimed artist and photographer — was on the receiving end of Tom’s postage and instantly adored what was sent. After seeing Tom’s nom de famille on the letter, he created “Tom of Finland” to ease the American audience. Mizer’s first feature of Tom’s work was on the front cover of Physique Pictorial’s Spring 1957 issue.

In the 1960s, Tom conjured up Kake, a favorite character that would dominate his comics — in more ways than one! Kake served as an exemplary model for his growing fascination with dom/ sub power dynamics, as well as trends and behaviors associated with such themes. Usually dressed in leather or denim, he’s in great physical shape, has dark hair, and sports a quintessential mustache famous among gay men — think of Queen’s Freddie Mercury.

By the 70s, his highly masculinized and fetishized homoerotic art had mainstream appeal. Tom’s first exhibition was in Hamburg, 1973. All but one of his images were stolen; the experience was so horrifying that his next show was not until 1978. This time, he would be presenting his art in a Los Angeles gallery, a gay haven compared to the rigid heteronormativity of his life back in Finland.

Life in the U.S. compelled Tom so much that he hosted a string of exhibitions across Los Angeles, San Francisco, and New York. He became friendly with heroes like Etienne and Robert Mapplethorpe (celebrated photographer), who helped him organize his first major show. Tom was quickly becoming an international sensation and partnered with Durk Dehner. Together, they co-founded the Tom of Finland Foundation here in Los Angeles.

By 1981 the AIDS epidemic was beginning to take full effect. In Finland, Tom lost Veli to throat cancer — which encouraged him to spend more time in LA. He rotated his time so that he spent half of the year in his home country and the other half in California. In the late 80s, Tom was diagnosed with emphysema, which put an end to his travels. A stroke related to the illness ended his long life in 1991.

Though Tom’s art is met with mixed reactions, his legacy boldly lives on through his fans across the globe. The Foundation is deeply devoted to their educational archive, which is dedicated to collecting, preserving and displaying Tom’s art.

Tom of Finland’s work has been selected for the MoMA’s permanent collection; inspired a fashion line in 1995; and led to a store, museum, stamp collection, countless exhibitions, books, and articles. In 1991, a video biography illuminated him once again. A 2017 biopic brought his personality and life to the big screen for fans to enjoy. Harvey Miller, who selected the images donated to the MoMA said at the time of his contribution that “Tom of Finland is one of the five most influential artists of the 20th century. As an artist he was superb, as an influence he was transcendent.”

Sam Steward was on track to live out his days as a respectable, highly-acclaimed author and scholar. Fresh out of college, he had already landed a teaching job and received appraisal for his book of poems and first novel. Sam could have easily achieved considerable literary recognition as a great author of his generation, but was a little sidetracked by A) alcoholism and B) his sex life.

Though not known as widely as Tom of Finland (though they did meet!), he deeply influenced both gay popular culture and counterculture. Steward was born an Ohio native in 1909 and grew into a professor, writer, tattoo artist, pornographer, and sex researcher. As an intellectual, he was fascinated by a number of topics but dedicated his life to art and gay pulp fiction. Before committing to a world of erotica and tattooing, he taught as a fellow at Ohio State University. His academic advisor introduced him to Gertrude Stein, who quickly became his choice mentor. She described Steward as “motherable” many times, and frequently invited him to stay at her vacation homes in the French countryside. It was here he met a string of notable writers: Thornton Wilder, Thomas Mann, André Gide, and Lord Alfred Douglas (Oscar Wilde’s lover).

Steward recovered from a 19-year-long addiction to alcohol in 1949. The same year, he crossed paths with sex researcher Alfred Kinsey, whose name was on everybody’s lips at the time. According to The Lost Autobiography of Samuel Steward, he became an “unofficial collaborator” after an initial interview that lasted over five hours. Kinsey was particularly impressed with Steward’s extensive sex records, which he had actively collected since his earliest sexual encounter. The alphabetized “stud file” — as Sam had titled it — provided Kinsey with a counterpoint to the government’s aggressive prosecution of queer people. In other words, here was a box full of evidence that gay people existed… and flourished! Prior to the 1950s, the only public or mainstream acknowledgment of homosexuality was limited to police record and scandalous headlines.

When the new decade eventually rolled around, Steward made the transition from English professor to tattoo artist, in an era where it was a questionable and sociably objectionable profession. Tattooing meant interaction with hustlers, sailors, bikers, and street thugs. He went by the name Phil Sparrow, so as not to be associated with his explicit material or his professional works.

At the same time as Tom was submitting to Physique Pictorial — a legal publication that branded itself as encouraging health and fitness — Sam began to contribute to Der Kreis, a Zurich-based homophile, underground magazine, using the pseudonym Ward Stames. He released essays, poems, and reviews to the magazine so frequently that he began using the nom de plume Phil Andros in the 1960s. A good portion of his visual art and stories were focused on sadomasochistic sex. Like Tom, he had a fetishistic interest and fascination with power dynamics between men, particularly BDSM.

Before moving out of Chicago, Steward befriended beefcake photographer, Chuck Renslow — who created the International Mr. Leather competition — and his partner, Dom Orejudos (the autonym of the artist, Etienne).

Steward, having trained under master tattooer Amund Dietzel, became a leading artist throughout the 50s onwards. In the late 60s, he was introduced to the Hells Angels motorcycle gang and became their official tattoo artist. He mentored respected tattooers Cliff Raven and Don Ed Hardy when the profession was still relatively taboo.

Over the years, Sam donated hundreds of Polaroids captured at sex parties, his 900 index cards from the Stud File, and numerous sexually themed materials to the Kinsey Institute. His collection brings to life the queer identities that hid within years of intense prosecution. Steward’s fearlessness in a time of ruthless repression makes him a hero unlike any other.

G.B. Jones is a Canadian artist who has been active since 1980. Besides drawing, she is a writer, filmmaker, and musician. In 1990, she and Tom of Finland collaborated by hosting an art show together, providing audience members with an interesting contrast. Jones has shared her erotic art in galleries across New York, and in 1996, a book with her artwork was released to the public. Although copies are distributed throughout the States and Europe, Canada pronounced it banned after copies were seized by the Canadian Border Control.

In the 80s, G.B. Jones and Bruce LaBruce co-founded and published J.D.s, a punk zine that the latter referred to as “softcore… for hardcore kids.” Though the acronym originally stood for

Juvenile Delinquents, LaBruce also explained that James Dean and J.D. Salinger were influencers for the title — thanks to their role as lesbian icons. The zine, featuring G.B. Jones’ art, ran from 1985 -1991 and released 8 issues. Jones nicknamed her series, “Tom’s Girls” — borrowing from Tom of Finland’s drawings and fetishistic style. Her illustrations illuminated LA’s punk scene and other subculturally identified women.

Jones did more than just influence queer women in the same way that Tom and Steward did queer men. Though she influenced similar notions of athleticism, fashion, and role-playing, Jones was groundbreaking because she earned recognition for women’s queer identities. Like Tom, she explored roles of power, but unlike Tom, her authority figures are present only so they can be rejected. Jones has undoubtedly had a major influence on lesbian and bisexual women by illustrating girls in variable positions of strength that tear apart stereotypes.

Perhaps unfairly, the women featured in this article are outnumbered 3 to 1. I could write a dissertation on queer artists of all genders. I have, however, made the unfortunate decision to reduce this conversation for the sake of simplified understanding. G.B. Jones is groundbreaking, as she contributes an essential female perspective on taboo sex and art.

Like the other artists featured, Mike Miksche was an artist who highlighted hyper masculine characteristics, tattoos, and BDSM, but was entirely unique in style (notice the theme: taboo sexuality). He is seldom talked about, perhaps because he went under the name of Steve Masters (S.M.). His illustrations presented here interpret the rigour of prison life. Alfred Kinsey prepared “an arrangement,” as Sam Steward explains in his autobiography. “He asked me to fly down from Chicago, and from New York [Kinsey] invited a tall mean-looking sadist, Mike Miksche, with a crew cut and a great personality.” I should note, as did the editor in Steward’s book, that “a great personality” suggests for a little reading between the lines — meaning, he had a nice cock.

During this time, Kinsey become increasingly interested in sadomasochism (s/m) — a recurring theme in all of the artists noted here — and invited Steward and Miksche to partake in an s/m film together.

When Miksche was enlisted by Kinsey for sex research, he’d already undergone a transition from working as a flight captain to a freelance artist, passionate about fashion and producing ink drawings for the blossoming s/m audience. His art was featured in Physique Pictorial issues from 1961 to 1963, as well as beefcake magazine: BIG.

Miksche’s story was sadly cut short. An acquaintance described him as openly gay and “a wonderful man.” Unfortunately, after numerous attempts to live a heterosexual life — even getting married — he committed suicide in winter of 1965.

Mike’s ending is painful, but a reminder of the liberties queer folks have in the 21st century. Tom, Steward, Jones, and Miksche all worked hard — whether consciously or not — towards uncovering taboo sexualities. Each, in their own right, brought an acclaimed, intellectual, and boundary-breaking perspective to gay liberation. Their art brought queer communities together by providing individuals with a common identity. Ultimately, they are heroes of the 20th-century western world, to whom we owe continuous commemoration towards for remaining so true to themselves during times of intense systematic queer oppression. Though notoriously controversial, Tom continuously made a point to draw his men as happily gay. He was passionate about changing the negativity that surrounded the gay identity — the assumption that all gay people are unhappy and self-loathing. Thanks, Daddy!

The art they have shared with us demonstrates that the overt and explicit nature of gay art has given our community a sense of openness, whereas straight or conventional erotica is caught in a never-ending cycle of furtiveness and shame. Understandably, such provocative art doesn’t agree with everyone, but it undeniably has had a major impact on gay liberation and has offered queer people a genre of behavior and style that has united many individuals. Their art is worked into our history — it cannot simply be ignored but must be revisited frequently so that we may pay tribute to the heroes who revolutionized aspects of the queer community.