Center Blog

Guest Post by Marina de la Torre

On Wednesday, April 18, the Center hosted Read our… Lips: Reading from the Best Lesbian Erotica.

Right before 7pm, mostly women start to gather in one of the Center’s rooms waiting in anticipation for the event to start. Over 25 women are present; some chat in small circles, others play with their phones, and many invite themselves to a glass of wine in the back of the room.

Promptly at 7 pm, Kathleen Warnock, editor of the Best Lesbian Erotica (BLE) 2012, welcomes the audience and explains how the BLE books come to life. The women in attendance learn that before the “best” stories are selected each year Kathleen receives hundreds of submissions; she then proceeds to read them all and make a selection of erotic stories that have “publishing” potential. Then she hands over her selection to that year’s guest judge. For the BLE 2012 book the guest judge was Sinclair Sexsmith, the mastermind behind the award-winning blog Sugarbutch Chronicles. The guest judge then proceeds to make a selection of 20 or so stories. Finally, after some back and forth with the publisher, Kathleen ends up with the final stories that appear in the book.

Process description over, the audience is introduced to not only Sinclair Sexsmith who is also in attendance but also to the four authors who will read their own hot stories out loud to the guests that evening.

First up is Ali Oh, a young writer, who takes the stage and invites us to listen to “Vacation.” Despite being quiet sick (poor thing, her voice was all congested), Ali delivers her story with grace, wit, and smart intonation as she delights us with a libidinous narrative. The temperature is slowly rising in the room while Sinclair Sexsmith introduces us to the next writer, Julia Noel Goldman, author of “’50s Waitress.” Julia is a quick reader who enthralls us with her kinky chronicle. She is also funny and we all burst into laughter when she suddenly claims “can you see that the story is making me hot, or is it my hot flashes?!”

 Next up is Anne Grip the author of “Hot Yoga”. Anne enchants us with a steamy and very entertaining tale. The audience is giggling throughout her reading and I wonder if it because of the comic or the lascivious passages in her story.

By now our imaginations have been richly stimulated and our senses aroused. The fourth story belongs to seasoned author D.L. King, who wrote “On my Honor” in the 2012 book; although tonight she is gracing us with a new story. D.L. King is a dynamic reader who is keeping the audience enraptured in her lustful story; and right then, at the climax of her account, she stops reading and happily invites us to read the end of the story in the book! This woman knows how to create a suspenseful atmosphere as and we are all left wondering what happens next in her tale.

Before the evening is over, we get a chance to hear from Sinclair Sexmith, who wrote the introduction in the BLE 2012 book, and reads out loud a selected portion of the intro.

Finally, before closing the event, the attendees are treated with one of Kathleen Warnock’s own stories. Although her story is not part of BLE 2012, Kathleen is a multifaceted creative person and writing is among her many skills. Kathleen’s account is a perfect closing for the evening as it brings the heat down a notch and allows us to recover –if ever so slightly— from the sexy stimulation before we venture out into the street again.

Overall it was a very exciting (pun intended) evening at the Center!

Guest Post by Rosalind Lloyd

Last month, the Center featured an amazing program, “Old School Fly Girl Throw Down,” and hip-hop was surely in the house. The timing of the presentation could not have been better, coinciding directly with both Women’s History Month and the unveiling of the restoration of Keith Haring’s “Once Upon a Time,” mural. The showcase was a fitting blend of urban dance, spoken word, vocals with live DJs laying the soundtrack, all with a particularly feminine flair. It was a collage of old-school meets new-school that highlighted a rich urban history spanning well over twenty years, one not typically associated with women. Each performance displayed poignant portrayals of creative expression through movement, music and verse celebrating a unifying message of solidarity and acceptance.

Poet, performer and educator Charon P. Morris, a LAMBDA Literary Foundation 2011 Emerging LGBT Voices Fellow and an extraordinary woman in her own right, performed two riveting spoken word pieces that touched on topics ranging from homophobia to misogyny.

Some in the line-up were members and/or graduates of The Door, like Coyote, an impressive, 23 year-old spoken word artist. Her poetry recalled her growing up gay in a deeply religious household and how the experience led to her becoming homeless while only in her mid-teens. Hers is a story of evolutionary progress in the face of adversity as this Howard University graduate is currently working on her Masters at Julliard. Songstress Mika engaged the audience with her vivacious performance, which encouraged active audience participation. Mika’s footnote outlined the fact that she only recently came out which was a show of bold independence and liberation that many in the diverse audience from the young to mature could easily identify with.

It isn’t hip-hop if there isn’t anyone representing on the ones and twos. Chicago-born and bred DJ Brina created an amazing beat backdrop for the evening while DJ Val brought us to the 21^st century proving that DJing has indeed gone beyond two turntables with her sophisticated, computerized musical compositions during her hi-tech set.

Headlining and one of the organizers of the event was the spirited Fly Girl, Rokafella, of the prolific Full Circle, whose fluid, B-girl moves made it perfectly clear that she could definitely out-rock any fellow and any female with her energetic choreography. She brought along her all-female, multicultural dance troupe, Full Circle Soulsistas, whom in turn, brought much flavor to the evening. These talented ladies mesmerized the audience with their beautifully acrobatic moves. Their extraordinary backgrounds proved how far reaching and influential hip-hop is with the ladies reigning from the Bronx, New Jersey and Staten Island to as far away as London, Hong Kong and Japan. Some are moms, pilates/yoga instructors and proficient theatrical performers with dance backgrounds spanning some 15 years or more. They all rocked the house effortlessly. As the more–than-capable Mistress of Ceremony, Rokafella closed the evening by surprising the crowd with some free-style vocals of her own, which had the entire audience on its feet, rocking to the beat.

Photo by Victoria Anderson

Guest Post by Jeff Adams

The Second Tuesday series moved temporarily to Wednesday to welcome Simon Doonan on February 15. The fashion/style maven delighted the audience with a reading from his latest book, Gay Men Don’t Get Fat, and answered a wide variety of questions.

Doonan, who is the Creative Ambassador at Large for Barneys, said he’d debated about what chapter to read—should it be about food, or fitness or celebrity. He ultimately chose “Hokey Hookers and Gypsy Tarts” because “the only way for the ordinary gay or gal to afford fashion is restoring to the world’s oldest profession.” We were regaled with his own “reformed hooker” story, which took place in Manchester in 1973 during his last year of college when his funds were running low.

Photo by Victoria Anderson

It all started because he found out his friend was pleasuring her landlord every month. He decided he’d give it a try to and he went out to a pub in search of someone he could make some cash off of. He ultimately found a Charles Bronson-type and a misadventure ensued. You’ll have to pick up the book to find out what happens because no blog post retelling can do it justice—you need Doonan’s own words.

Following the reading, Doonan took questions from the audience. It’s not surprising, given the title of the book, that the first question was “How do you stay thin?” He said the key is to eat the right mix of gay food and straight food correctly. An example was to mix steak (a straight food) with a salad (a gay food) rather than potatoes (another straight food).

Photo by Victoria Anderson

He went on further to discuss the food he had while growing up and making it clear that he isn’t nostalgic for it at all—he categorized it as appalling. That included the gypsy tart from the chapter he read. A mixture of evaporated milk and sugar, the tart was something he loathed but ended up eating a lot of anyway because it was cheap.

Not surprisingly, there were questions about fashion. Doonan characterizes today’s fashion as incomprehensible. “Every trend that ever was is concurrently available,” he said. “You have to surrender to the vastness. It’s liberating because you just have to have your own wardrobe and look. “

Doonan, who has published five books (six depending on how you count Beautiful People, which is also under the title Nasty in the U.S.) and also writes a column for Slate.com, started writing when he was 44 and “from the get go established a style that was demented.”

“If I had to write straight stories, like covering fashion for The New York Times, I’d have a nervous breakdown,” he said. “The books are a good counterpoint to keep me from being the world’s oldest window dresser.”

Photo by Victoria Anderson

While he no longer does the Barneys windows in his creative ambassador role, he is not sure what the future holds for him. “I’m not very ambitious,” he says. “I’m a hard worker. I’ll grab the opportunities and not procrastinate, but I’m not a visionary.”

Guest Post by Richard Allen

“If you need my bra, my shirt, my weave, my lashes, I’m going to give it to you.  That’s just the kind of person I am.” – Lady Jasmine

On the most recent World AIDS Day, filmmakers Kate Kunath and Sasha Wortzel screened the rough cut of their documentary film Starlite at the Center.  The Starlite Lounge was a gay bar in Crown Heights, Brooklyn that closed in 2010, due to the location being sold and the subsequent rent hike –one which, it is suggested by the film, was as much a choice based in moralism as in commerce.  The Starlite lounge was the oldest black-owned gay bar in New York, and the oldest black-owned business on Nostrand Ave., and the film makes a compelling case for the importance and centrality of it to the history of gay life in New York, black life in New York, as well as simply the history of New York itself.

The documentary, which looks fantastic—the colors are crisp and clean, and avoid many of the problems of shooting in digital—seeks to tell the history of the Starlite, from its beginnings in 1959 on through to the community efforts, ultimately unsuccessful, to keep it open.  In between, it tells the story of the owners, bartenders, customers, and performers of the Starlite, and the uniquely welcoming community that sprang up around it.  As one of the filmmakers said, this story lies “at the intersection of race, orientation, gentrification and AIDS awareness,” but it is truthfully about a place that rose above cultural differences.  Ittruly became a safe space that was welcoming to all, and sought to be more than just a place that served alcohol or had a dance floor, but instead a hot spot for community activism, AIDS activism, gang deterrence, and racial and sexual reconciliation.  Along the way, the film makes manifest the impact of AIDS on everyone who is even marginally connected to the LGBT community.

Following the screening, there was a question-and-answer session with the filmmakers; the owner, Linda King; a former bartender, Dennis Parrott; the former resident drag queen, Lady Jasmine; as well as several customers.  They all continually discussed the impact of the Starlite lounge and the hole created in the community, as well as their hopes and attempts to reopen in another location.  Their warmth and openness towards the audience, and their easygoing affection for each other were the best advertisement for what New York is now missing, and one hopes that they are ultimately successful in re-establishing this crucial safe space.

Guest Post by Richard Allen

On March 8, as part of the run-up to the annual Black Party at the Roseland Ballroom, the Center held a benefit called Art + Sin, an exhibit of thirty-two years of posters for the notorious expo and dance party.  While the posters were meant to titillate, excite, and above all, advertise, they also function as art in and of themselves (the original poster, as well as several subsequent years, featured Robert Mapplethorpe photographs, after all). These posters also serve as a continuous document of the various sexual preoccupations of the last three decades of gay life, and as such, make the viewer think past the current representations of sexuality, and to instead situate them in a larger conversation about the changing nature of gay life.

This continuing conversation manifested differently throughout the exhibit.  The poster from 1993, by Bastille, was among the most sexually explicit and graphic of the images, showing a group of men in various stages of S&M play in the background, while in the foreground, a disembodied penis emerges from the corner, still sheathed in an obviously used condom.  This poster is from a period when the gay community found itself consumed not just with dealing with the current AIDS crisis, but also increasingly concerned with prevention, and provides a fascinating example of an early attempt to  express gay male sexuality in a way that is non-judgmental and inclusive, but that also pointedly demands responsibility.

Another pair of posters makes this conversation even more explicit and functions as an amusing sort of call-and-response across generations.  The first poster, from 1982, by Scott Facon, incorporates woodblock illustrations that look plucked from a century-old German medical text showing a step-by-step guide to performing a circumcision.  The 2004 poster, by Thom Graves, uses the same layout of imagery and simple black-on-beige color palette, but instead is a medical illustration of foreskin restoration.  The later poster references the larger (both gay and straight) culture’s growing debate about circumcision, but also draws a witty and knowing historical thread through the entirety of the Black Party itself.  Yet another poster, from 2002, is a photograph of a bound and roughed-up man in Abercrombie and Fitch underwear wearing an Abercrombie and Fitch shopping bag with a model’s head printed on it over his own head.  Behind the subject,muscle mag posters tacked to the wall.  On the surface, this photograph suggests simple bondage within a sexual context, but the juxtaposition of boxer-briefs and shopping bag also evokes much darker interpretations about gay male self-esteem and body-image, and how media and consumer culture shape and reinforce men’s relationships to their own bodies.  Ultimately, the viewer wonders if enslavement to an ideal is the real bondage being referenced in this photograph.

Alongside the posters, while attendees chatted and sipped vodka and bid on auction items, another group of men were actively shaping ideals as they quickly but skillfully sketched a nude model who changed positions every fifteen minutes.  As I walked around the circle, peering over shoulders, I was impressed by the confidence of the drawings and paintings I saw.  Clearly, all of the assembled artists had formal training or were freakishly-gifted naturals.  However, what was most fascinating was not the skill and beauty, but the tiny little ways that each participant manipulated the model to closer conform to a personal ideal.  Some depicted him with a larger penis, some with a squarer jawline, some with a more feminine mouth, more chest hair, less chest hair, leaner, more compact, and so on, but invariably, something happened in the mind and hand of each sketcher that subtly reshaped reality to a version that pleased them more.  In that way, the benefit itself felt like just the most current manifestation of this dialogue about contemporary gay life, sexuality and aesthetics that continues to play out in posters, parties and streets throughout New York.

Guest Post by Allie Axel

America has a great memory for moments of heroism but bouts of amnesia for those times when we falter. Like when President Reagan refused to acknowledge a crisis that wiped out more Americans than those killed in the Vietnam War. How many of us learned about the AIDS epidemic in the U.S. in school? Even high school lesson plans on HIV/AIDS are brief and insufficient. The new documentary 30 Years From Here serves as an “AIDS 101″ course for the American people. In its digestible 52-minute format, the film presents the history of the virus, the untold stories from those who lived through the crisis, and a present-day assessment of the effect it has on our lives now.

On the evening of March 13, every seat was filled  and there were a dozen people standing in the back, leaning against walls as the film, 30 Years From Here played at the Center. The audience seemed to be composed of people who had lived through the start of the AIDS epidemic in the 80s to those who gained awareness in the late 90s. Although the film targets teenage audiences, few people under twenty were present. But that does not mean under-twenties will not see the film.

The beauty of 30 Years From Here is that it is designed to be viewed on TV, thus reaching a far larger audience, especially those flipping channels and coming across a shocking subject they know nothing about. After the film screened, there was a Q & A session with the director, Josh Rosenzweig. Hands were slow to raise at first but then the questions started rolling, creating an emotionally charged atmosphere of curiosity, concern and frustration. The overarching question that the director and audience hoped to answer: How can we overcome the stigma of AIDS and promote awareness among today’s youth? 30 Years from Here is the first step to finding an answer.

Photo by Simon Shimshilashvili

Guest Post by Paul Reed

On Tuesday, March 20^th, The LGBT Center hosted the premiere installment of their new intergenerational “live talk show” series,  Q & Gay: Sex from the 70’s to Scruff.  I arrived quite early to notice that many of the seats were already full of people of many ages, proving that sex does indeed sell. During the opening cocktail reception, I also felt a strong sense of jubilation and reunion in the air, witnessing several long lost friends reconnecting all around me.

Ashley Brockington, a striking and statuesque theatre professional, proved to be a highly engaging facilitator, beginning the session by introducing the audience to the four members of the panel. Ashley first introduced Johnny Skandros, the co-founder of Scruff, a gay social smartphone app, and thus one of the most important people in the modern age of gay digital media. Next up was Joseph Lovett (Joe), producer of the celebrated film, Gay Sex in the 70’s. Following Joe, we met Rob Zukowski, talented photographer and in my opinion, the most delightfully salacious panelist. Rounding up the panel was Francis Sheehan (Frank), an influential New York artist originally from Ireland.

Photo by Simon Shimshilashvili

After establishing the house rules for the discussion, Ashley asked the panel a series of 25 questions all within the framework of gay sex from the 70’s until the current time. Questions, and thus answers, ran the gamut from the comical, (Question #5) “What’s the most embarrassing place you’ve ever woken up?”, to the reflective, (Question #7) “Where were you when you first heard of AIDS?”, and to the educational, (Question #2) “How do you define safe sex?” It wasn’t long into the discussion before the theme of age began to show its influences on the different perspectives within the panel.

One of the best questions that displayed this overreaching theme of age was (Question #3) “Describe yourself at twenty-one.” Joe’s long-time friend told him that in 1966 he was “desperate.” Frank reminisced about his times at The LGBT Center of Dublin in 1978. Johnny, the youngest member of the panel by far, reflected that in 2004 he was naïve and fed into gay stereotypes. Rob gave the fascinating picture of the West Village in 1988 as a colony of AIDS “lepers” trapped within the fabulous illusion the neighborhood tried to uphold. These answers provided a window to explore how the interactions of place and time create our self-identity of what it means to be a gay man.

A question that evoked much discussion was (Question #10) “How has technology changed the sex scene?” The audience had the privilege of hearing this question answered first by Johnny, the co-founder of Scruff, a mobile application utilizing GPS allowing one to view other gay men globally and to physically meet gay men within the immediate area. Johnny bypassed the seemingly obvious answer, which is that the application allows for more frequent and easier hook-ups, and dove more into the other benefits of his application. According to him, Scruff also is a way for gay men without a visible gay community to connect with other gay men, lessening the oppressive isolation that is the reality for many outside of metropolitan cities.

Scruff also is a venue to spread education and awareness about safer sex practices and important LGBTQ causes. Joe took the question in a different direction, speaking about how technology affects his relationship with his partner in negative ways. Technology’s ability to keep one connected to work can become a stressor and invasive to personal space. Rob had an incredibly insightful answer, speculating that technology has allowed rejection to become more prevalent, sometimes based on one’s race or perceived masculinity.

Guest Post by Paul Reed

On the evening of Monday, February 27^th, Center Cinema with co-sponsorship by The Gender Identity Project screened two short films, The Joneses and Smalltown Boy, both directed by Moby Longinotto. With the filmmaker stuck in London working on another feature documentary for Channel Four, Aviva Wishnow, the producer of The Joneses, was fortunately on hand to present both films and conduct a Q&A session.

In the short feature, The Joneses, we are introduced to a tight-knit family living all together in a trailer home in rural Mississippi. Jheri Rae Jones, formerly the father of the household, rears her two adult sons, Trevor, a 34 year old depressed from the absence of a love life, and Brad, a son born with brain damage. Both sons display a deep love and respect for Jheri, calling themselves fortunate to have such a great mother in their lives. The fifteen-minute film only acts as an introduction to the Jones family, and if the viewer wants more time with the family then he or she is in major luck. Aviva informed us during the Q&A session that with the financial support of the LGBT community, the short film is being produced as a full-length feature film for early next year.

For the second short feature, Smalltown Boy, Moby takes us into another rural community, this time a small village in England. David, the central character, is isolated within his village for being different, and now at the age of fifteen has decided to come out as gay. With the scorn of his entire town upon him, David courageously decides to be paraded through the main square as the first ever, male summer carnival queen. The film expertly captures David’s resilience and triumph against dominating and seemingly imprisoning social norms. In one powerful scene, an adult man publicly insults David for being gay, highlighting the fact that in David’s reality it is socially appropriate for a grown man to act aggressively toward him, a fifteen-year old boy.

Both films alert us to the isolation that many LGBT individuals throughout the world endure and, better yet, overcome. I couldn’t help but feel grateful that I have the opportunity to watch such powerful films within the safe space of Center Cinema.

Guest Post by Donald Conrad

For those of us who weren’t looking for that über romantic venue and instead wanted to find something completely different to do on Valentine’s Day, we found it!  The center hosted a unique event that challenged the audience to think while keeping us laughing.  Booze, Sex, & Puppets was performed by separate groups of performers who were not part of a single troupe or organization.  A combination of songs, puppets, dolls and abstract swans entertained us for the evening and a beer-drinking, faux pregnant master of ceremonies, Lindsay Abromaitis-Smith, tied the series of six vignettes together.  As she popped the top on a beer during her introduction, she matter-of-factly informed us that her doctor told her that she shouldn’t drink more than “four of ‘em a day.”

Puppets were center of attention in the first two vignettes. A puppeteer singing Dolly Parton’s “He’s Going to Marry Me” performed the first vignette.  Alissa Hunnicutt has a lovely voice and she expertly manipulated the puppets to the lyrics of the song.  In the next vignette the puppet, Grandma Getta, performed by Kirsten Kammermeyer, informed us how much she appreciates a person’s backside; constantly reiterating the words, “Wow you have a HOT ass,” to wild laughter as she pointed to random people in the audience.

The third and fourth vignettes used dolls.  Both required the audience to search for meanings.  In the third, not a word was uttered as the master of ceremonies led the audience through a writhing, almost erotic, birth of unisex twin dolls.  The scene went on with these dolls seemingly impregnating each other and each giving birth to another doll.  It all ended with the master of ceremonies nursing the offspring.  I have to admit that I am still struggling to understand the intended meaning, but I was completely mesmerized by the entire scene.  The fourth vignette involved electro band Prima Primo acting as windup dolls.  Using various props, the two dolls, performed by Stephen Franco and Janet Castel, explored the interpersonal relationships between individuals.

Following a humorously bawdy ballad, sung by Alissa Hunnicutt, called The Cunning Linguist, which contained hilarious double entendres in every line, we were ask to cover our eyes.  When we opened them, we found four gyrating objects of white sitting on the stage.  To music of Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake, two men (the hunters) began to interact with the “white swans.”  Before long it was obvious that these hunters were playing out their sexual fantasies with the swans.

Although extremely diverse, all the vignettes on some level spoke to the vast kinds of relationships between human beings.  Some were humorous, some somber, some a little confusing, but all were entertaining and worth the time spent.