Below is a little-known photograph of the 1960s sex symbol Alain Delon, who starred as Dickie in Purple Noon, René Clément’s 1960 adaptation of Patricia Highsmith’s psychological thriller The Talented Mr Ripley. Delon is pictured in bed slumped over and looking out of frame, resting his chin on his closed fist, his dressing gown falling down his arm to reveal his broad right shoulder. The photo was taken in 1959 when Delon was 24 years old, still relatively unknown outside France. How did John S. Barrington, also known by his pseudonym John Paignton, a ‘straight’ Londoner, fifteen years his senior, end up in bed with him?
A “Hard Man Is Good To Find” at the Photographer’s Gallery does not directly raise nor answer this question. However, through eight sites in London plus one in LA, curator Alistair O’Neill charts the postwar development of ‘physique photography’ in the twentieth century, still heavily restricted by the Obscene Publications Act of 1857.
John S. Barrington appears twice in the exhibition; we first hear of him at Highgate Men’s Ponds, London, among the most renowned cruising areas for gay men. In 1938, affecting the air of an aristocrat, he wears a teddy bear coat and monocle in one eye, with a portfolio under his arm embossed with the word Vogue in gold. He manages to lure two men, the dancer David Dulak and his friend Vic, from Charing Cross Road to The Ponds where he photographs them naked. This marks the beginning of his career as a male physique photographer; by 1984, he was said to have published more nude photographs than any other individual in Europe or the United States.
.jpg)
We next encounter Barrington in Brixton, in the 1970s. He is married to the ex-girlfriend of one of his models and has two children with her. The commodification of his sexual encounters with his models is now much more unsettling, presenting itself in photographic catalogues advertising his male physique photos to sculptors, artists and students. Black and white headshots of predominantly black men are arranged in numbered columns resembling photo-sheets, creating a pictorial system that recalls colonial cataloguing methods. The number appearing next to each man corresponds to a description detailing his age, height, country of origin, and occupation, followed by an ambiguous description of Barrington’s satisfaction with his performance, as well as a personal ranking out of three stars. A coding system denotes D for ‘dark skin’, C for ‘coffee coloured’ and X for ‘circumcised’. Disturbingly for a contemporary viewer, many of the men are 18 and none of the men are over twenty-three. Although acting as a commercial catalogue for “connoisseurs of the male body” to order pictures from, the descriptions transform the catalogue into a sort of diary: Ahmid is described as “19; 5’8; Algerian holiday friend who made sure he was remembered.”, the phrase “eager to please” often appears, Andy is described as “5’10; London; Top model with everything. Plus!” The descriptions go on alluding to perhaps more than their posing pleasuring Barrington.
Barrington himself may have resented his inclusion in this exhibition which situates a diverse range of photographers within a queer perspective. He never identified as homosexual, claiming his encounters were purely for physical pleasure. This raises the question of how we define queer people, is being gay falling in love with someone of the same gender or can it be purely physical? While his sexual encounters with young men caused friction with his wife, Barrington remained married until his death. The photographer's carnal objectification of the male physique is somewhat unsettling, particularly in light of myriad recent exposés of sexual exploitation throughout various industries, especially within the arts.
This reading of Barrington’s catalogues is in stark contrast to other photography in the exhibition, for example the intimacy of the twelve photos displayed on the opposite wall. These photos were found in Portobello Antiques Market by activist, art critic and writer Emmanuel Cooper, and they document the intimate domesticity of young men cohabiting in West London, posing in varying states of undress, revealing the joys of friendship and perhaps love, wholly at odds with the explicit imagery of the male physique, often feeding a generation of men denied the freedom to openly express their romantic or purely sexual attraction.
Queer visual history is usually held in private collections and much of it has not survived due to various forms of queer erasure, by gay men themselves or their heirs. Don’t miss the opportunity to see Barrington’s catalogues along with other fragments of London’s queer history. A Hard Man is Good to Find offers a chance to reflect on the ways queer desire has, and has not, changed from the 20th into the 21st century.
A Hard Man is Good to Find! is showing at The Photographers’ Gallery until 11th June
Make sure to collect your Yamos on the gowithYamo app when you visit!
Below is a little-known photograph of the 1960s sex symbol Alain Delon, who starred as Dickie in Purple Noon, René Clément’s 1960 adaptation of Patricia Highsmith’s psychological thriller The Talented Mr Ripley. Delon is pictured in bed slumped over and looking out of frame, resting his chin on his closed fist, his dressing gown falling down his arm to reveal his broad right shoulder. The photo was taken in 1959 when Delon was 24 years old, still relatively unknown outside France. How did John S. Barrington, also known by his pseudonym John Paignton, a ‘straight’ Londoner, fifteen years his senior, end up in bed with him?
A “Hard Man Is Good To Find” at the Photographer’s Gallery does not directly raise nor answer this question. However, through eight sites in London plus one in LA, curator Alistair O’Neill charts the postwar development of ‘physique photography’ in the twentieth century, still heavily restricted by the Obscene Publications Act of 1857.
John S. Barrington appears twice in the exhibition; we first hear of him at Highgate Men’s Ponds, London, among the most renowned cruising areas for gay men. In 1938, affecting the air of an aristocrat, he wears a teddy bear coat and monocle in one eye, with a portfolio under his arm embossed with the word Vogue in gold. He manages to lure two men, the dancer David Dulak and his friend Vic, from Charing Cross Road to The Ponds where he photographs them naked. This marks the beginning of his career as a male physique photographer; by 1984, he was said to have published more nude photographs than any other individual in Europe or the United States.
We next encounter Barrington in Brixton, in the 1970s. He is married to the ex-girlfriend of one of his models and has two children with her. The commodification of his sexual encounters with his models is now much more unsettling, presenting itself in photographic catalogues advertising his male physique photos to sculptors, artists and students. Black and white headshots of predominantly black men are arranged in numbered columns resembling photo-sheets, creating a pictorial system that recalls colonial cataloguing methods. The number appearing next to each man corresponds to a description detailing his age, height, country of origin, and occupation, followed by an ambiguous description of Barrington’s satisfaction with his performance, as well as a personal ranking out of three stars. A coding system denotes D for ‘dark skin’, C for ‘coffee coloured’ and X for ‘circumcised’. Disturbingly for a contemporary viewer, many of the men are 18 and none of the men are over twenty-three. Although acting as a commercial catalogue for “connoisseurs of the male body” to order pictures from, the descriptions transform the catalogue into a sort of diary: Ahmid is described as “19; 5’8; Algerian holiday friend who made sure he was remembered.”, the phrase “eager to please” often appears, Andy is described as “5’10; London; Top model with everything. Plus!” The descriptions go on alluding to perhaps more than their posing pleasuring Barrington.
Barrington himself may have resented his inclusion in this exhibition which situates a diverse range of photographers within a queer perspective. He never identified as homosexual, claiming his encounters were purely for physical pleasure. This raises the question of how we define queer people, is being gay falling in love with someone of the same gender or can it be purely physical? While his sexual encounters with young men caused friction with his wife, Barrington remained married until his death. The photographer's carnal objectification of the male physique is somewhat unsettling, particularly in light of myriad recent exposés of sexual exploitation throughout various industries, especially within the arts.
This reading of Barrington’s catalogues is in stark contrast to other photography in the exhibition, for example the intimacy of the twelve photos displayed on the opposite wall. These photos were found in Portobello Antiques Market by activist, art critic and writer Emmanuel Cooper, and they document the intimate domesticity of young men cohabiting in West London, posing in varying states of undress, revealing the joys of friendship and perhaps love, wholly at odds with the explicit imagery of the male physique, often feeding a generation of men denied the freedom to openly express their romantic or purely sexual attraction.
Queer visual history is usually held in private collections and much of it has not survived due to various forms of queer erasure, by gay men themselves or their heirs. Don’t miss the opportunity to see Barrington’s catalogues along with other fragments of London’s queer history. A Hard Man is Good to Find offers a chance to reflect on the ways queer desire has, and has not, changed from the 20th into the 21st century.
A Hard Man is Good to Find! is showing at The Photographers’ Gallery until 11th June
Make sure to collect your Yamos on the gowithYamo app when you visit!
Below is a little-known photograph of the 1960s sex symbol Alain Delon, who starred as Dickie in Purple Noon, René Clément’s 1960 adaptation of Patricia Highsmith’s psychological thriller The Talented Mr Ripley. Delon is pictured in bed slumped over and looking out of frame, resting his chin on his closed fist, his dressing gown falling down his arm to reveal his broad right shoulder. The photo was taken in 1959 when Delon was 24 years old, still relatively unknown outside France. How did John S. Barrington, also known by his pseudonym John Paignton, a ‘straight’ Londoner, fifteen years his senior, end up in bed with him?
A “Hard Man Is Good To Find” at the Photographer’s Gallery does not directly raise nor answer this question. However, through eight sites in London plus one in LA, curator Alistair O’Neill charts the postwar development of ‘physique photography’ in the twentieth century, still heavily restricted by the Obscene Publications Act of 1857.
John S. Barrington appears twice in the exhibition; we first hear of him at Highgate Men’s Ponds, London, among the most renowned cruising areas for gay men. In 1938, affecting the air of an aristocrat, he wears a teddy bear coat and monocle in one eye, with a portfolio under his arm embossed with the word Vogue in gold. He manages to lure two men, the dancer David Dulak and his friend Vic, from Charing Cross Road to The Ponds where he photographs them naked. This marks the beginning of his career as a male physique photographer; by 1984, he was said to have published more nude photographs than any other individual in Europe or the United States.
We next encounter Barrington in Brixton, in the 1970s. He is married to the ex-girlfriend of one of his models and has two children with her. The commodification of his sexual encounters with his models is now much more unsettling, presenting itself in photographic catalogues advertising his male physique photos to sculptors, artists and students. Black and white headshots of predominantly black men are arranged in numbered columns resembling photo-sheets, creating a pictorial system that recalls colonial cataloguing methods. The number appearing next to each man corresponds to a description detailing his age, height, country of origin, and occupation, followed by an ambiguous description of Barrington’s satisfaction with his performance, as well as a personal ranking out of three stars. A coding system denotes D for ‘dark skin’, C for ‘coffee coloured’ and X for ‘circumcised’. Disturbingly for a contemporary viewer, many of the men are 18 and none of the men are over twenty-three. Although acting as a commercial catalogue for “connoisseurs of the male body” to order pictures from, the descriptions transform the catalogue into a sort of diary: Ahmid is described as “19; 5’8; Algerian holiday friend who made sure he was remembered.”, the phrase “eager to please” often appears, Andy is described as “5’10; London; Top model with everything. Plus!” The descriptions go on alluding to perhaps more than their posing pleasuring Barrington.
Barrington himself may have resented his inclusion in this exhibition which situates a diverse range of photographers within a queer perspective. He never identified as homosexual, claiming his encounters were purely for physical pleasure. This raises the question of how we define queer people, is being gay falling in love with someone of the same gender or can it be purely physical? While his sexual encounters with young men caused friction with his wife, Barrington remained married until his death. The photographer's carnal objectification of the male physique is somewhat unsettling, particularly in light of myriad recent exposés of sexual exploitation throughout various industries, especially within the arts.
This reading of Barrington’s catalogues is in stark contrast to other photography in the exhibition, for example the intimacy of the twelve photos displayed on the opposite wall. These photos were found in Portobello Antiques Market by activist, art critic and writer Emmanuel Cooper, and they document the intimate domesticity of young men cohabiting in West London, posing in varying states of undress, revealing the joys of friendship and perhaps love, wholly at odds with the explicit imagery of the male physique, often feeding a generation of men denied the freedom to openly express their romantic or purely sexual attraction.
Queer visual history is usually held in private collections and much of it has not survived due to various forms of queer erasure, by gay men themselves or their heirs. Don’t miss the opportunity to see Barrington’s catalogues along with other fragments of London’s queer history. A Hard Man is Good to Find offers a chance to reflect on the ways queer desire has, and has not, changed from the 20th into the 21st century.
A Hard Man is Good to Find! is showing at The Photographers’ Gallery until 11th June
Make sure to collect your Yamos on the gowithYamo app when you visit!
Below is a little-known photograph of the 1960s sex symbol Alain Delon, who starred as Dickie in Purple Noon, René Clément’s 1960 adaptation of Patricia Highsmith’s psychological thriller The Talented Mr Ripley. Delon is pictured in bed slumped over and looking out of frame, resting his chin on his closed fist, his dressing gown falling down his arm to reveal his broad right shoulder. The photo was taken in 1959 when Delon was 24 years old, still relatively unknown outside France. How did John S. Barrington, also known by his pseudonym John Paignton, a ‘straight’ Londoner, fifteen years his senior, end up in bed with him?
A “Hard Man Is Good To Find” at the Photographer’s Gallery does not directly raise nor answer this question. However, through eight sites in London plus one in LA, curator Alistair O’Neill charts the postwar development of ‘physique photography’ in the twentieth century, still heavily restricted by the Obscene Publications Act of 1857.
John S. Barrington appears twice in the exhibition; we first hear of him at Highgate Men’s Ponds, London, among the most renowned cruising areas for gay men. In 1938, affecting the air of an aristocrat, he wears a teddy bear coat and monocle in one eye, with a portfolio under his arm embossed with the word Vogue in gold. He manages to lure two men, the dancer David Dulak and his friend Vic, from Charing Cross Road to The Ponds where he photographs them naked. This marks the beginning of his career as a male physique photographer; by 1984, he was said to have published more nude photographs than any other individual in Europe or the United States.
We next encounter Barrington in Brixton, in the 1970s. He is married to the ex-girlfriend of one of his models and has two children with her. The commodification of his sexual encounters with his models is now much more unsettling, presenting itself in photographic catalogues advertising his male physique photos to sculptors, artists and students. Black and white headshots of predominantly black men are arranged in numbered columns resembling photo-sheets, creating a pictorial system that recalls colonial cataloguing methods. The number appearing next to each man corresponds to a description detailing his age, height, country of origin, and occupation, followed by an ambiguous description of Barrington’s satisfaction with his performance, as well as a personal ranking out of three stars. A coding system denotes D for ‘dark skin’, C for ‘coffee coloured’ and X for ‘circumcised’. Disturbingly for a contemporary viewer, many of the men are 18 and none of the men are over twenty-three. Although acting as a commercial catalogue for “connoisseurs of the male body” to order pictures from, the descriptions transform the catalogue into a sort of diary: Ahmid is described as “19; 5’8; Algerian holiday friend who made sure he was remembered.”, the phrase “eager to please” often appears, Andy is described as “5’10; London; Top model with everything. Plus!” The descriptions go on alluding to perhaps more than their posing pleasuring Barrington.
Barrington himself may have resented his inclusion in this exhibition which situates a diverse range of photographers within a queer perspective. He never identified as homosexual, claiming his encounters were purely for physical pleasure. This raises the question of how we define queer people, is being gay falling in love with someone of the same gender or can it be purely physical? While his sexual encounters with young men caused friction with his wife, Barrington remained married until his death. The photographer's carnal objectification of the male physique is somewhat unsettling, particularly in light of myriad recent exposés of sexual exploitation throughout various industries, especially within the arts.
This reading of Barrington’s catalogues is in stark contrast to other photography in the exhibition, for example the intimacy of the twelve photos displayed on the opposite wall. These photos were found in Portobello Antiques Market by activist, art critic and writer Emmanuel Cooper, and they document the intimate domesticity of young men cohabiting in West London, posing in varying states of undress, revealing the joys of friendship and perhaps love, wholly at odds with the explicit imagery of the male physique, often feeding a generation of men denied the freedom to openly express their romantic or purely sexual attraction.
Queer visual history is usually held in private collections and much of it has not survived due to various forms of queer erasure, by gay men themselves or their heirs. Don’t miss the opportunity to see Barrington’s catalogues along with other fragments of London’s queer history. A Hard Man is Good to Find offers a chance to reflect on the ways queer desire has, and has not, changed from the 20th into the 21st century.
A Hard Man is Good to Find! is showing at The Photographers’ Gallery until 11th June
Make sure to collect your Yamos on the gowithYamo app when you visit!
Below is a little-known photograph of the 1960s sex symbol Alain Delon, who starred as Dickie in Purple Noon, René Clément’s 1960 adaptation of Patricia Highsmith’s psychological thriller The Talented Mr Ripley. Delon is pictured in bed slumped over and looking out of frame, resting his chin on his closed fist, his dressing gown falling down his arm to reveal his broad right shoulder. The photo was taken in 1959 when Delon was 24 years old, still relatively unknown outside France. How did John S. Barrington, also known by his pseudonym John Paignton, a ‘straight’ Londoner, fifteen years his senior, end up in bed with him?
A “Hard Man Is Good To Find” at the Photographer’s Gallery does not directly raise nor answer this question. However, through eight sites in London plus one in LA, curator Alistair O’Neill charts the postwar development of ‘physique photography’ in the twentieth century, still heavily restricted by the Obscene Publications Act of 1857.
John S. Barrington appears twice in the exhibition; we first hear of him at Highgate Men’s Ponds, London, among the most renowned cruising areas for gay men. In 1938, affecting the air of an aristocrat, he wears a teddy bear coat and monocle in one eye, with a portfolio under his arm embossed with the word Vogue in gold. He manages to lure two men, the dancer David Dulak and his friend Vic, from Charing Cross Road to The Ponds where he photographs them naked. This marks the beginning of his career as a male physique photographer; by 1984, he was said to have published more nude photographs than any other individual in Europe or the United States.
We next encounter Barrington in Brixton, in the 1970s. He is married to the ex-girlfriend of one of his models and has two children with her. The commodification of his sexual encounters with his models is now much more unsettling, presenting itself in photographic catalogues advertising his male physique photos to sculptors, artists and students. Black and white headshots of predominantly black men are arranged in numbered columns resembling photo-sheets, creating a pictorial system that recalls colonial cataloguing methods. The number appearing next to each man corresponds to a description detailing his age, height, country of origin, and occupation, followed by an ambiguous description of Barrington’s satisfaction with his performance, as well as a personal ranking out of three stars. A coding system denotes D for ‘dark skin’, C for ‘coffee coloured’ and X for ‘circumcised’. Disturbingly for a contemporary viewer, many of the men are 18 and none of the men are over twenty-three. Although acting as a commercial catalogue for “connoisseurs of the male body” to order pictures from, the descriptions transform the catalogue into a sort of diary: Ahmid is described as “19; 5’8; Algerian holiday friend who made sure he was remembered.”, the phrase “eager to please” often appears, Andy is described as “5’10; London; Top model with everything. Plus!” The descriptions go on alluding to perhaps more than their posing pleasuring Barrington.
Barrington himself may have resented his inclusion in this exhibition which situates a diverse range of photographers within a queer perspective. He never identified as homosexual, claiming his encounters were purely for physical pleasure. This raises the question of how we define queer people, is being gay falling in love with someone of the same gender or can it be purely physical? While his sexual encounters with young men caused friction with his wife, Barrington remained married until his death. The photographer's carnal objectification of the male physique is somewhat unsettling, particularly in light of myriad recent exposés of sexual exploitation throughout various industries, especially within the arts.
This reading of Barrington’s catalogues is in stark contrast to other photography in the exhibition, for example the intimacy of the twelve photos displayed on the opposite wall. These photos were found in Portobello Antiques Market by activist, art critic and writer Emmanuel Cooper, and they document the intimate domesticity of young men cohabiting in West London, posing in varying states of undress, revealing the joys of friendship and perhaps love, wholly at odds with the explicit imagery of the male physique, often feeding a generation of men denied the freedom to openly express their romantic or purely sexual attraction.
Queer visual history is usually held in private collections and much of it has not survived due to various forms of queer erasure, by gay men themselves or their heirs. Don’t miss the opportunity to see Barrington’s catalogues along with other fragments of London’s queer history. A Hard Man is Good to Find offers a chance to reflect on the ways queer desire has, and has not, changed from the 20th into the 21st century.
A Hard Man is Good to Find! is showing at The Photographers’ Gallery until 11th June
Make sure to collect your Yamos on the gowithYamo app when you visit!
Below is a little-known photograph of the 1960s sex symbol Alain Delon, who starred as Dickie in Purple Noon, René Clément’s 1960 adaptation of Patricia Highsmith’s psychological thriller The Talented Mr Ripley. Delon is pictured in bed slumped over and looking out of frame, resting his chin on his closed fist, his dressing gown falling down his arm to reveal his broad right shoulder. The photo was taken in 1959 when Delon was 24 years old, still relatively unknown outside France. How did John S. Barrington, also known by his pseudonym John Paignton, a ‘straight’ Londoner, fifteen years his senior, end up in bed with him?
A “Hard Man Is Good To Find” at the Photographer’s Gallery does not directly raise nor answer this question. However, through eight sites in London plus one in LA, curator Alistair O’Neill charts the postwar development of ‘physique photography’ in the twentieth century, still heavily restricted by the Obscene Publications Act of 1857.
John S. Barrington appears twice in the exhibition; we first hear of him at Highgate Men’s Ponds, London, among the most renowned cruising areas for gay men. In 1938, affecting the air of an aristocrat, he wears a teddy bear coat and monocle in one eye, with a portfolio under his arm embossed with the word Vogue in gold. He manages to lure two men, the dancer David Dulak and his friend Vic, from Charing Cross Road to The Ponds where he photographs them naked. This marks the beginning of his career as a male physique photographer; by 1984, he was said to have published more nude photographs than any other individual in Europe or the United States.
We next encounter Barrington in Brixton, in the 1970s. He is married to the ex-girlfriend of one of his models and has two children with her. The commodification of his sexual encounters with his models is now much more unsettling, presenting itself in photographic catalogues advertising his male physique photos to sculptors, artists and students. Black and white headshots of predominantly black men are arranged in numbered columns resembling photo-sheets, creating a pictorial system that recalls colonial cataloguing methods. The number appearing next to each man corresponds to a description detailing his age, height, country of origin, and occupation, followed by an ambiguous description of Barrington’s satisfaction with his performance, as well as a personal ranking out of three stars. A coding system denotes D for ‘dark skin’, C for ‘coffee coloured’ and X for ‘circumcised’. Disturbingly for a contemporary viewer, many of the men are 18 and none of the men are over twenty-three. Although acting as a commercial catalogue for “connoisseurs of the male body” to order pictures from, the descriptions transform the catalogue into a sort of diary: Ahmid is described as “19; 5’8; Algerian holiday friend who made sure he was remembered.”, the phrase “eager to please” often appears, Andy is described as “5’10; London; Top model with everything. Plus!” The descriptions go on alluding to perhaps more than their posing pleasuring Barrington.
Barrington himself may have resented his inclusion in this exhibition which situates a diverse range of photographers within a queer perspective. He never identified as homosexual, claiming his encounters were purely for physical pleasure. This raises the question of how we define queer people, is being gay falling in love with someone of the same gender or can it be purely physical? While his sexual encounters with young men caused friction with his wife, Barrington remained married until his death. The photographer's carnal objectification of the male physique is somewhat unsettling, particularly in light of myriad recent exposés of sexual exploitation throughout various industries, especially within the arts.
This reading of Barrington’s catalogues is in stark contrast to other photography in the exhibition, for example the intimacy of the twelve photos displayed on the opposite wall. These photos were found in Portobello Antiques Market by activist, art critic and writer Emmanuel Cooper, and they document the intimate domesticity of young men cohabiting in West London, posing in varying states of undress, revealing the joys of friendship and perhaps love, wholly at odds with the explicit imagery of the male physique, often feeding a generation of men denied the freedom to openly express their romantic or purely sexual attraction.
Queer visual history is usually held in private collections and much of it has not survived due to various forms of queer erasure, by gay men themselves or their heirs. Don’t miss the opportunity to see Barrington’s catalogues along with other fragments of London’s queer history. A Hard Man is Good to Find offers a chance to reflect on the ways queer desire has, and has not, changed from the 20th into the 21st century.
A Hard Man is Good to Find! is showing at The Photographers’ Gallery until 11th June
Make sure to collect your Yamos on the gowithYamo app when you visit!
Below is a little-known photograph of the 1960s sex symbol Alain Delon, who starred as Dickie in Purple Noon, René Clément’s 1960 adaptation of Patricia Highsmith’s psychological thriller The Talented Mr Ripley. Delon is pictured in bed slumped over and looking out of frame, resting his chin on his closed fist, his dressing gown falling down his arm to reveal his broad right shoulder. The photo was taken in 1959 when Delon was 24 years old, still relatively unknown outside France. How did John S. Barrington, also known by his pseudonym John Paignton, a ‘straight’ Londoner, fifteen years his senior, end up in bed with him?
A “Hard Man Is Good To Find” at the Photographer’s Gallery does not directly raise nor answer this question. However, through eight sites in London plus one in LA, curator Alistair O’Neill charts the postwar development of ‘physique photography’ in the twentieth century, still heavily restricted by the Obscene Publications Act of 1857.
John S. Barrington appears twice in the exhibition; we first hear of him at Highgate Men’s Ponds, London, among the most renowned cruising areas for gay men. In 1938, affecting the air of an aristocrat, he wears a teddy bear coat and monocle in one eye, with a portfolio under his arm embossed with the word Vogue in gold. He manages to lure two men, the dancer David Dulak and his friend Vic, from Charing Cross Road to The Ponds where he photographs them naked. This marks the beginning of his career as a male physique photographer; by 1984, he was said to have published more nude photographs than any other individual in Europe or the United States.
We next encounter Barrington in Brixton, in the 1970s. He is married to the ex-girlfriend of one of his models and has two children with her. The commodification of his sexual encounters with his models is now much more unsettling, presenting itself in photographic catalogues advertising his male physique photos to sculptors, artists and students. Black and white headshots of predominantly black men are arranged in numbered columns resembling photo-sheets, creating a pictorial system that recalls colonial cataloguing methods. The number appearing next to each man corresponds to a description detailing his age, height, country of origin, and occupation, followed by an ambiguous description of Barrington’s satisfaction with his performance, as well as a personal ranking out of three stars. A coding system denotes D for ‘dark skin’, C for ‘coffee coloured’ and X for ‘circumcised’. Disturbingly for a contemporary viewer, many of the men are 18 and none of the men are over twenty-three. Although acting as a commercial catalogue for “connoisseurs of the male body” to order pictures from, the descriptions transform the catalogue into a sort of diary: Ahmid is described as “19; 5’8; Algerian holiday friend who made sure he was remembered.”, the phrase “eager to please” often appears, Andy is described as “5’10; London; Top model with everything. Plus!” The descriptions go on alluding to perhaps more than their posing pleasuring Barrington.
Barrington himself may have resented his inclusion in this exhibition which situates a diverse range of photographers within a queer perspective. He never identified as homosexual, claiming his encounters were purely for physical pleasure. This raises the question of how we define queer people, is being gay falling in love with someone of the same gender or can it be purely physical? While his sexual encounters with young men caused friction with his wife, Barrington remained married until his death. The photographer's carnal objectification of the male physique is somewhat unsettling, particularly in light of myriad recent exposés of sexual exploitation throughout various industries, especially within the arts.
This reading of Barrington’s catalogues is in stark contrast to other photography in the exhibition, for example the intimacy of the twelve photos displayed on the opposite wall. These photos were found in Portobello Antiques Market by activist, art critic and writer Emmanuel Cooper, and they document the intimate domesticity of young men cohabiting in West London, posing in varying states of undress, revealing the joys of friendship and perhaps love, wholly at odds with the explicit imagery of the male physique, often feeding a generation of men denied the freedom to openly express their romantic or purely sexual attraction.
Queer visual history is usually held in private collections and much of it has not survived due to various forms of queer erasure, by gay men themselves or their heirs. Don’t miss the opportunity to see Barrington’s catalogues along with other fragments of London’s queer history. A Hard Man is Good to Find offers a chance to reflect on the ways queer desire has, and has not, changed from the 20th into the 21st century.
A Hard Man is Good to Find! is showing at The Photographers’ Gallery until 11th June
Make sure to collect your Yamos on the gowithYamo app when you visit!
Below is a little-known photograph of the 1960s sex symbol Alain Delon, who starred as Dickie in Purple Noon, René Clément’s 1960 adaptation of Patricia Highsmith’s psychological thriller The Talented Mr Ripley. Delon is pictured in bed slumped over and looking out of frame, resting his chin on his closed fist, his dressing gown falling down his arm to reveal his broad right shoulder. The photo was taken in 1959 when Delon was 24 years old, still relatively unknown outside France. How did John S. Barrington, also known by his pseudonym John Paignton, a ‘straight’ Londoner, fifteen years his senior, end up in bed with him?
A “Hard Man Is Good To Find” at the Photographer’s Gallery does not directly raise nor answer this question. However, through eight sites in London plus one in LA, curator Alistair O’Neill charts the postwar development of ‘physique photography’ in the twentieth century, still heavily restricted by the Obscene Publications Act of 1857.
John S. Barrington appears twice in the exhibition; we first hear of him at Highgate Men’s Ponds, London, among the most renowned cruising areas for gay men. In 1938, affecting the air of an aristocrat, he wears a teddy bear coat and monocle in one eye, with a portfolio under his arm embossed with the word Vogue in gold. He manages to lure two men, the dancer David Dulak and his friend Vic, from Charing Cross Road to The Ponds where he photographs them naked. This marks the beginning of his career as a male physique photographer; by 1984, he was said to have published more nude photographs than any other individual in Europe or the United States.
We next encounter Barrington in Brixton, in the 1970s. He is married to the ex-girlfriend of one of his models and has two children with her. The commodification of his sexual encounters with his models is now much more unsettling, presenting itself in photographic catalogues advertising his male physique photos to sculptors, artists and students. Black and white headshots of predominantly black men are arranged in numbered columns resembling photo-sheets, creating a pictorial system that recalls colonial cataloguing methods. The number appearing next to each man corresponds to a description detailing his age, height, country of origin, and occupation, followed by an ambiguous description of Barrington’s satisfaction with his performance, as well as a personal ranking out of three stars. A coding system denotes D for ‘dark skin’, C for ‘coffee coloured’ and X for ‘circumcised’. Disturbingly for a contemporary viewer, many of the men are 18 and none of the men are over twenty-three. Although acting as a commercial catalogue for “connoisseurs of the male body” to order pictures from, the descriptions transform the catalogue into a sort of diary: Ahmid is described as “19; 5’8; Algerian holiday friend who made sure he was remembered.”, the phrase “eager to please” often appears, Andy is described as “5’10; London; Top model with everything. Plus!” The descriptions go on alluding to perhaps more than their posing pleasuring Barrington.
Barrington himself may have resented his inclusion in this exhibition which situates a diverse range of photographers within a queer perspective. He never identified as homosexual, claiming his encounters were purely for physical pleasure. This raises the question of how we define queer people, is being gay falling in love with someone of the same gender or can it be purely physical? While his sexual encounters with young men caused friction with his wife, Barrington remained married until his death. The photographer's carnal objectification of the male physique is somewhat unsettling, particularly in light of myriad recent exposés of sexual exploitation throughout various industries, especially within the arts.
This reading of Barrington’s catalogues is in stark contrast to other photography in the exhibition, for example the intimacy of the twelve photos displayed on the opposite wall. These photos were found in Portobello Antiques Market by activist, art critic and writer Emmanuel Cooper, and they document the intimate domesticity of young men cohabiting in West London, posing in varying states of undress, revealing the joys of friendship and perhaps love, wholly at odds with the explicit imagery of the male physique, often feeding a generation of men denied the freedom to openly express their romantic or purely sexual attraction.
Queer visual history is usually held in private collections and much of it has not survived due to various forms of queer erasure, by gay men themselves or their heirs. Don’t miss the opportunity to see Barrington’s catalogues along with other fragments of London’s queer history. A Hard Man is Good to Find offers a chance to reflect on the ways queer desire has, and has not, changed from the 20th into the 21st century.
A Hard Man is Good to Find! is showing at The Photographers’ Gallery until 11th June
Make sure to collect your Yamos on the gowithYamo app when you visit!
Below is a little-known photograph of the 1960s sex symbol Alain Delon, who starred as Dickie in Purple Noon, René Clément’s 1960 adaptation of Patricia Highsmith’s psychological thriller The Talented Mr Ripley. Delon is pictured in bed slumped over and looking out of frame, resting his chin on his closed fist, his dressing gown falling down his arm to reveal his broad right shoulder. The photo was taken in 1959 when Delon was 24 years old, still relatively unknown outside France. How did John S. Barrington, also known by his pseudonym John Paignton, a ‘straight’ Londoner, fifteen years his senior, end up in bed with him?
A “Hard Man Is Good To Find” at the Photographer’s Gallery does not directly raise nor answer this question. However, through eight sites in London plus one in LA, curator Alistair O’Neill charts the postwar development of ‘physique photography’ in the twentieth century, still heavily restricted by the Obscene Publications Act of 1857.
John S. Barrington appears twice in the exhibition; we first hear of him at Highgate Men’s Ponds, London, among the most renowned cruising areas for gay men. In 1938, affecting the air of an aristocrat, he wears a teddy bear coat and monocle in one eye, with a portfolio under his arm embossed with the word Vogue in gold. He manages to lure two men, the dancer David Dulak and his friend Vic, from Charing Cross Road to The Ponds where he photographs them naked. This marks the beginning of his career as a male physique photographer; by 1984, he was said to have published more nude photographs than any other individual in Europe or the United States.
We next encounter Barrington in Brixton, in the 1970s. He is married to the ex-girlfriend of one of his models and has two children with her. The commodification of his sexual encounters with his models is now much more unsettling, presenting itself in photographic catalogues advertising his male physique photos to sculptors, artists and students. Black and white headshots of predominantly black men are arranged in numbered columns resembling photo-sheets, creating a pictorial system that recalls colonial cataloguing methods. The number appearing next to each man corresponds to a description detailing his age, height, country of origin, and occupation, followed by an ambiguous description of Barrington’s satisfaction with his performance, as well as a personal ranking out of three stars. A coding system denotes D for ‘dark skin’, C for ‘coffee coloured’ and X for ‘circumcised’. Disturbingly for a contemporary viewer, many of the men are 18 and none of the men are over twenty-three. Although acting as a commercial catalogue for “connoisseurs of the male body” to order pictures from, the descriptions transform the catalogue into a sort of diary: Ahmid is described as “19; 5’8; Algerian holiday friend who made sure he was remembered.”, the phrase “eager to please” often appears, Andy is described as “5’10; London; Top model with everything. Plus!” The descriptions go on alluding to perhaps more than their posing pleasuring Barrington.
Barrington himself may have resented his inclusion in this exhibition which situates a diverse range of photographers within a queer perspective. He never identified as homosexual, claiming his encounters were purely for physical pleasure. This raises the question of how we define queer people, is being gay falling in love with someone of the same gender or can it be purely physical? While his sexual encounters with young men caused friction with his wife, Barrington remained married until his death. The photographer's carnal objectification of the male physique is somewhat unsettling, particularly in light of myriad recent exposés of sexual exploitation throughout various industries, especially within the arts.
This reading of Barrington’s catalogues is in stark contrast to other photography in the exhibition, for example the intimacy of the twelve photos displayed on the opposite wall. These photos were found in Portobello Antiques Market by activist, art critic and writer Emmanuel Cooper, and they document the intimate domesticity of young men cohabiting in West London, posing in varying states of undress, revealing the joys of friendship and perhaps love, wholly at odds with the explicit imagery of the male physique, often feeding a generation of men denied the freedom to openly express their romantic or purely sexual attraction.
Queer visual history is usually held in private collections and much of it has not survived due to various forms of queer erasure, by gay men themselves or their heirs. Don’t miss the opportunity to see Barrington’s catalogues along with other fragments of London’s queer history. A Hard Man is Good to Find offers a chance to reflect on the ways queer desire has, and has not, changed from the 20th into the 21st century.
A Hard Man is Good to Find! is showing at The Photographers’ Gallery until 11th June
Make sure to collect your Yamos on the gowithYamo app when you visit!
Below is a little-known photograph of the 1960s sex symbol Alain Delon, who starred as Dickie in Purple Noon, René Clément’s 1960 adaptation of Patricia Highsmith’s psychological thriller The Talented Mr Ripley. Delon is pictured in bed slumped over and looking out of frame, resting his chin on his closed fist, his dressing gown falling down his arm to reveal his broad right shoulder. The photo was taken in 1959 when Delon was 24 years old, still relatively unknown outside France. How did John S. Barrington, also known by his pseudonym John Paignton, a ‘straight’ Londoner, fifteen years his senior, end up in bed with him?
A “Hard Man Is Good To Find” at the Photographer’s Gallery does not directly raise nor answer this question. However, through eight sites in London plus one in LA, curator Alistair O’Neill charts the postwar development of ‘physique photography’ in the twentieth century, still heavily restricted by the Obscene Publications Act of 1857.
John S. Barrington appears twice in the exhibition; we first hear of him at Highgate Men’s Ponds, London, among the most renowned cruising areas for gay men. In 1938, affecting the air of an aristocrat, he wears a teddy bear coat and monocle in one eye, with a portfolio under his arm embossed with the word Vogue in gold. He manages to lure two men, the dancer David Dulak and his friend Vic, from Charing Cross Road to The Ponds where he photographs them naked. This marks the beginning of his career as a male physique photographer; by 1984, he was said to have published more nude photographs than any other individual in Europe or the United States.
We next encounter Barrington in Brixton, in the 1970s. He is married to the ex-girlfriend of one of his models and has two children with her. The commodification of his sexual encounters with his models is now much more unsettling, presenting itself in photographic catalogues advertising his male physique photos to sculptors, artists and students. Black and white headshots of predominantly black men are arranged in numbered columns resembling photo-sheets, creating a pictorial system that recalls colonial cataloguing methods. The number appearing next to each man corresponds to a description detailing his age, height, country of origin, and occupation, followed by an ambiguous description of Barrington’s satisfaction with his performance, as well as a personal ranking out of three stars. A coding system denotes D for ‘dark skin’, C for ‘coffee coloured’ and X for ‘circumcised’. Disturbingly for a contemporary viewer, many of the men are 18 and none of the men are over twenty-three. Although acting as a commercial catalogue for “connoisseurs of the male body” to order pictures from, the descriptions transform the catalogue into a sort of diary: Ahmid is described as “19; 5’8; Algerian holiday friend who made sure he was remembered.”, the phrase “eager to please” often appears, Andy is described as “5’10; London; Top model with everything. Plus!” The descriptions go on alluding to perhaps more than their posing pleasuring Barrington.
Barrington himself may have resented his inclusion in this exhibition which situates a diverse range of photographers within a queer perspective. He never identified as homosexual, claiming his encounters were purely for physical pleasure. This raises the question of how we define queer people, is being gay falling in love with someone of the same gender or can it be purely physical? While his sexual encounters with young men caused friction with his wife, Barrington remained married until his death. The photographer's carnal objectification of the male physique is somewhat unsettling, particularly in light of myriad recent exposés of sexual exploitation throughout various industries, especially within the arts.
This reading of Barrington’s catalogues is in stark contrast to other photography in the exhibition, for example the intimacy of the twelve photos displayed on the opposite wall. These photos were found in Portobello Antiques Market by activist, art critic and writer Emmanuel Cooper, and they document the intimate domesticity of young men cohabiting in West London, posing in varying states of undress, revealing the joys of friendship and perhaps love, wholly at odds with the explicit imagery of the male physique, often feeding a generation of men denied the freedom to openly express their romantic or purely sexual attraction.
Queer visual history is usually held in private collections and much of it has not survived due to various forms of queer erasure, by gay men themselves or their heirs. Don’t miss the opportunity to see Barrington’s catalogues along with other fragments of London’s queer history. A Hard Man is Good to Find offers a chance to reflect on the ways queer desire has, and has not, changed from the 20th into the 21st century.
A Hard Man is Good to Find! is showing at The Photographers’ Gallery until 11th June
Make sure to collect your Yamos on the gowithYamo app when you visit!
Below is a little-known photograph of the 1960s sex symbol Alain Delon, who starred as Dickie in Purple Noon, René Clément’s 1960 adaptation of Patricia Highsmith’s psychological thriller The Talented Mr Ripley. Delon is pictured in bed slumped over and looking out of frame, resting his chin on his closed fist, his dressing gown falling down his arm to reveal his broad right shoulder. The photo was taken in 1959 when Delon was 24 years old, still relatively unknown outside France. How did John S. Barrington, also known by his pseudonym John Paignton, a ‘straight’ Londoner, fifteen years his senior, end up in bed with him?
A “Hard Man Is Good To Find” at the Photographer’s Gallery does not directly raise nor answer this question. However, through eight sites in London plus one in LA, curator Alistair O’Neill charts the postwar development of ‘physique photography’ in the twentieth century, still heavily restricted by the Obscene Publications Act of 1857.
John S. Barrington appears twice in the exhibition; we first hear of him at Highgate Men’s Ponds, London, among the most renowned cruising areas for gay men. In 1938, affecting the air of an aristocrat, he wears a teddy bear coat and monocle in one eye, with a portfolio under his arm embossed with the word Vogue in gold. He manages to lure two men, the dancer David Dulak and his friend Vic, from Charing Cross Road to The Ponds where he photographs them naked. This marks the beginning of his career as a male physique photographer; by 1984, he was said to have published more nude photographs than any other individual in Europe or the United States.
We next encounter Barrington in Brixton, in the 1970s. He is married to the ex-girlfriend of one of his models and has two children with her. The commodification of his sexual encounters with his models is now much more unsettling, presenting itself in photographic catalogues advertising his male physique photos to sculptors, artists and students. Black and white headshots of predominantly black men are arranged in numbered columns resembling photo-sheets, creating a pictorial system that recalls colonial cataloguing methods. The number appearing next to each man corresponds to a description detailing his age, height, country of origin, and occupation, followed by an ambiguous description of Barrington’s satisfaction with his performance, as well as a personal ranking out of three stars. A coding system denotes D for ‘dark skin’, C for ‘coffee coloured’ and X for ‘circumcised’. Disturbingly for a contemporary viewer, many of the men are 18 and none of the men are over twenty-three. Although acting as a commercial catalogue for “connoisseurs of the male body” to order pictures from, the descriptions transform the catalogue into a sort of diary: Ahmid is described as “19; 5’8; Algerian holiday friend who made sure he was remembered.”, the phrase “eager to please” often appears, Andy is described as “5’10; London; Top model with everything. Plus!” The descriptions go on alluding to perhaps more than their posing pleasuring Barrington.
Barrington himself may have resented his inclusion in this exhibition which situates a diverse range of photographers within a queer perspective. He never identified as homosexual, claiming his encounters were purely for physical pleasure. This raises the question of how we define queer people, is being gay falling in love with someone of the same gender or can it be purely physical? While his sexual encounters with young men caused friction with his wife, Barrington remained married until his death. The photographer's carnal objectification of the male physique is somewhat unsettling, particularly in light of myriad recent exposés of sexual exploitation throughout various industries, especially within the arts.
This reading of Barrington’s catalogues is in stark contrast to other photography in the exhibition, for example the intimacy of the twelve photos displayed on the opposite wall. These photos were found in Portobello Antiques Market by activist, art critic and writer Emmanuel Cooper, and they document the intimate domesticity of young men cohabiting in West London, posing in varying states of undress, revealing the joys of friendship and perhaps love, wholly at odds with the explicit imagery of the male physique, often feeding a generation of men denied the freedom to openly express their romantic or purely sexual attraction.
Queer visual history is usually held in private collections and much of it has not survived due to various forms of queer erasure, by gay men themselves or their heirs. Don’t miss the opportunity to see Barrington’s catalogues along with other fragments of London’s queer history. A Hard Man is Good to Find offers a chance to reflect on the ways queer desire has, and has not, changed from the 20th into the 21st century.
A Hard Man is Good to Find! is showing at The Photographers’ Gallery until 11th June
Make sure to collect your Yamos on the gowithYamo app when you visit!
