IotD: Wescott & Wheeler’s Queer Domesticity

While searching online for something else entirely I stumbled across this lovely image of Glenway Wescott (left) and Monroe Wheeler (right) at home.

glenway wescott monroe wheeler stone-blossom by bernard perlin

Taken by their friend painter Bernard Perlin around 1947, it depicts the two men at Stone-blossom, the farmhouse the two men shared. Stone-blossom was located on Wescott’s brother and sister-in-law’s large rural farm in Hampton, New Jersey. Biographer Jerry Rosco has written that the home “balanced Wescott and Wheeler’s world,” and quotes Ralph Pomeroy’s impression of it: “this was an eighteenth-century household, filled with art, music, literature, sculpture, and wonderful talk” (156). Wescott lived there full time while Wheeler, who was director of exhibitions at MOMA, commuted back and forth from New York City.

According to information included on the flickr site, the three portraits about the fireplace are silverpoints of Lloyd Wescott, W. Somerset Maugham, and E.M. Forster by Perlin.


Wescott and Wheeler at Stone-blossom (circa 1947)
Bernard Perlin flickr

Works Cited

Rosco, Jerry. Glenway Wescott Personally: A Biography. Madison, WI: U of Wisconsin, 2002. Print.


IotD: JERRY by Paul Cadmus (for Jared French’s birthday)

Jerry by Paul CadmusA few days late, but I wanted to acknowledge Jared French’s birth date on February 4 by posting a few thoughts on Jerry, Paul Cadmus’s 1931 portrait of French. The painting so immediately conveys that the two artists were lovers–a complex relationship the men maintained even after French’s marriage to Margaret Hoening, a fellow artist which they together artistically collaborated with under the clever acronym PaJaMa –that it is one of the reasons, I imagine, that it was not publicly seen until the 1970’s and only recently transitioned from the French family’s personal collection to permanent display in a public institution (more detailed information via Tyler Green).

Jared French photo by George Platt Lynes

Jared French, August 1938 by George Platt Lynes

The intimacy of the portrait is striking, in terms of not only location (a rumpled, obviously slept-in bed) and proximity (even photographs don’t often dare creep so close to its human subject), but also in terms of its gaze: that of the artist behind the easel, of course, but also the one frankly and uninhibitedly returned by the subject himself. Usually when a subject gazes directly out of the image–be it a painting, photograph, film, or anything else–it is characterized as engaging the viewer and/or audience, but whenever I look at this image I’m struck that the facial expression and eye contact Cadmus captures makes me feel as if I’m not being implicated at all, but merely allowed to witness an intimate exchange that I’m not necessarily being invited to participate in. Somehow the image maintains its secrets and privacy despite its ostensibly exhibitionist display.

It’s also impossible not to be intrigued by the conspicuous presence of James Joyce’s Ulysses, which as John Coulthart notes, was a text banned in America at the time, and would be for several more years (he even wonders if it’s the first painted representation of the novel). But following the project Russell Meyer undertakes in his study of Cadmus’s work in Outlaw Representation: Censorship & Homosexuality in Twentieth Century Art, I am drawn to the idea that Cadmus employs the presence of one obvious illicit element (Ulysses) to signify another (the love “that dare not speak its name”). It’s a delightful visual strategy.

I generally have mixed feelings in regards to much of Cadmus’s work, conceptually appreciating what he is doing but not responding to his intentionally swollen and vulgar aesthetic, but Jerry has become one of my very favorite pieces of art not only of the modernist era, but just in general. It’s a marvelous testament to a relationship, be it erotic, artistic, and/or otherwise.

The 1000 Museums website has an amazing high resolution image of Jerry that allows for the painting to be inspected in closer detail than I’ve ever had the opportunity to do so before (and is probably the next best thing to seeing it in person at the Toledo Museum of Art). In line with Jerry‘s celebration of intimacy, here are a few details from the painting to scrutinize–and savor.

Jerry by Paul Cadmus

Jerry by Paul Cadmus

Jerry by Paul Cadmus


Jerry (1931)
Paul Cadmus
Oil on canvas
Toledo Museum of Art

Jared French, August 1938
George Platt Lynes
Gelatin silver print
Metropolitan Museum of Art

IotD: OLIVIA em português

50 Watts recently posted a series of stunning Portuguese  book covers ranging from the 1920’s through 1970’s, and I was delighted to see this starkly gorgeous cover for a 1959 edition of the lesbian classic Olivia, initially attributed to a pseudonym of the same name but is now generally published under the actual name of its author, Dorothy Bussy (née Strachey).

The design is by Sebastião Rodrigues, and utilizes a photo by Sena da Silva.

Olivia by Olivia cover 1959In 1951 French film director Jacqueline Audry directed an adaptation of the film, starring Edwige Feuillère and Simone Simon.  I wrote a rather lengthy analysis comparing it and another lesbian film classic, Leontine Sagan’s Mädchen in Uniform (1931) over at my film blog, Memories of the Future.

More book covers, all from the collection of Jorge Silva, can be found at 50 Watts.

IotD: The Androgynous Chic of Annemarie Schwarzenbach

Today marks the birthday of Swiss writer, journalist, and photographer Annemarie Schwarzenbach, who was born May 23, 1908. She is closely associated with the Mann family (particularly Thomas’s children Erika and Klaus), and had a fabulous whirlwind of a life, which, sadly, ultimately ended up being ill-fated and much too short. Schwarzenbach passed away in 1942, only 34 years old. A succinct overview of her full life can be found here.

The queer modernists in general tended to be a glamorous bunch, but for me Annemarie’s androgynous chic is a contender for the title of most glamorous of them all.

Annemarie Schwarzenbach camera

Annemarie Schwarzenbach

Annemarie Schwarzenbach

Seriously, just do a Google image search.


IotD: Parker Tyler x3

Recently at the San Francisco Public Library Spring Book Sale–one of my favorite events in this city– I picked up a copy of Parker Tyler’s classic Classics of the Foreign Film (1962). I already owned a copy, but the one I already had was missing its dust jacket and I couldn’t resist (and hey, it was only $3 and for a good cause to boot).

What I most loved about the cover, however, was the striking portrait of the author on the back, which is labelled “From Three Film Portraits by Charles Boultenhouse.” Boultenhouse, a filmmaker, was Tyler’s longtime partner.

Parker Tyler

The dust jacket is well worn and that’s reflected in the quality of the scan, but there’s something about it that makes the compositionally beautiful image seem so evocative and haunting.