26 February 2011 00:59 / faraway

autoportrait by alan dorzbächer

 

22 January 2011 23:59 / empty

found on str8 to hell

 

23 June 2010 05:00 / plus de crush

autoportraits 2010 by sacha dumain. 19, parisian, knows how to take a photograph, has posted the following mp3s on his blog recently:

david bowie - hang on to yourself
new order - leave me alone
lcd soundsystem - home
crystal castles - suffocation
hot chip - i feel better

 

17 June 2010 15:35 / what to do about this dream +you

one of my favorite living photographers, sacha dumain, is now linked on the right.

 

22 May 2010 12:09 / r i p

will munro
i will miss you
you were, are brilliant
tearducts and fingernails
never enough

 

27 February 2010 03:10 / born 2 synthesize

autoportrait by Austin

 

16 April 2007 15:57 / R I P

james lyons james lyons
james lyons james lyons

James Lyons, filmed by Todd Haynes


--
he died on Thursday; he was 46. he was in Poison, Swoon, Safe, and even that daft film of Frisk. he cut Velvet Goldmine. he was hot and smart. listen to his commentary [with Haynes] on the Poison dvd if you haven't heard it yet.

things James Lyons and i had in common: admirers of Todd Haynes, riders of the Brooklyn F train, members of ACT UP

 

15 October 2006 19:46 / Half the story

not quite
2005

 

29 September 2006 22:59 / Hollywood Bl

Josh Winter, 2005

Josh used to play bass with my boyfriend and me. Now he plays keyboards in Waterlaso. I took this photo in an apartment building on Hollywood Bl that was once owned by Peter Falk. While Steven and I were living there, we spotted Ron Jeremy in the building several times. He didn't live there, but at least one time, he was clearly there filming a porn movie. He was in the lobby coercing some poor woman who kept saying 'I don't want to do that with that guy here'.

 

27 September 2006 11:59 / a model named Snider

Nick Snider, photographed by?

 

18 September 2006 04:05 / Party Fears Two

In the first place, I'm writing this without the magazines at hand. I'm in a room where musical instruments are scattered upside-down, empty glass bottles crowd every surface, and a busted trampoline faces me directly: my view. Not exactly how I planned it but at least Storz+Bickel are present.

I encountered this girl in the apparently final print issue [2001] of Propaganda Magazine, an enterprise of Fred H Berger, a dude whose cultural role I have never quite gleaned. He takes photographs [which are pretty good]; reviews minor music releases. For a time, I guess, he was behind a print magazine called Propaganda. I always find that the most unexpected people know Propaganda Magazine, so if you know it, you know it. If not;

Early issues were goth-oriented and 2 steps above Xerox. As years passed, it grew into a reasonably glossy... 'scene magazine'? 'Fictional photoessay' magazine? Basically, these really hot, androgynous boys and girls would pose for clearly made-up Life Magazine-type photojournalism pieces. Or would you call the pieces porn? The narratives were similar. The pictures were generally sexual, but didn't have nudity.

For example, in the photographs below, The Girl, dyed blonde in black leather looking like a boy, is acting the part of 'Dmitri', a Russian street hustler. Dmitri's words are briefly quoted; he mentions his girlfriend 'Zosia' [the other girl below]. He actually says 'I'm not a faggot' with reference to his invented profession, and this gets a block quote. Seriously... at whom was this magazine aimed?

So yeah: The Girl. I don't know her name. My feelings for her are singular... unlike, unlike, unlike...

One time I tried to explain it by saying I didn't know whether I wanted to fuck her or to be her. It wasn't a flippant expression; it was an honest attempt to reduce the conflict, to aim it at a 'central tension', chill the situation out. I asked other people, who is it for you? You can't decide whether you'd prefer to be or fuck who? And I mean really, like if you actually gave it a lot of thought?

I got gorgeous answers: Egon Schiele, Kim Gordon, Morrissey. But I realized that my friends played the game differently. To the names that attracted them, enormous lives and myths were attached. No one proferred an anonymous photo and said, That One. Instead, they felt a pull, more or less, between Fucking That and Having That Career / Having Made That Art.

It's true that with the girl in the photos, I don't know if I'd rather fuck her or be her. I know that I'd say yes to either and both. The former, of course, is unremarkable: you can all see that she's boyishly cute, self-aware, and involved in some kind of weird art project. But as for being her, I don't know what her daily life is like now, or what it was ever like; I don't know where she lives; I fundamentally don't know what she does. Further, if I were to be her, it wouldn't be so that it was me in these photos in Propaganda Magazine. It's not that I wish I had been the one to make that art- art that's totally unobjectionable and quite sexy at turns, but not the sort that makes me jealous.

I guess I see: The Surface of The Girl. If she walked toward me, in a mirror or on the street, and said, Do You Want To Switch?... and she would become me and I'd become her and we'd walk away, each into a new life formerly belonging to the other... I Would Say Yes. No doubt, I would probably try to fuck her too. So basically this makes her... a point of entry? I see the other side already.

Some people want themselves. Some people want you. Some people want boys or girls coaxed halfway into existence; some people want light; and some people want the whip. Me;

I want Two I want Twice

2 more photographs

 

09 September 2006 16:51 / Steven

2003
Kodak disposable

 

21 July 2006 01:28 / Meant 2

Jake, 2004
shot by Ryan McGinley

 

21 July 2006 00:12 / Meant

Ryan McGinley and Kent somebody, 2006
shot by Amy Kellner

 

03 July 2006 23:46 / just a little piece.. smaller.. smaller

Reasons to Live


1, 2005


2, 2006

Smaller, smaller...

 

02 May 2006 21:11 / Unspeakably spoken

He's been in two stunning films, Todd Haynes' Velvet Goldmine and Mike Figgis' The Loss of Sexual Innocence. Other than that, the crap-roster is pretty incredible - from that Woody Allen movie to indie garbage like B Monkey to the painfully calculated attempt at a cult hit that is Killer Tongue, it's hard to know where to begin. Bend It Like Beckham is enjoyable enough and probably his best-known film, but still he's perching, waiting to be really seen, actually remembered. Maybe his role in the next James Bond movie will be the one, but I sort of doubt it.

It must be said, neither Velvet Goldmine nor The Loss of Sexual Innocence demands much of him as an actor. He plays the former in more-or-less one tone (to good effect), and he has almost no lines in the latter. Not to say he's a poor actor, precisely, but he seems to have two effective strategies, blankness and melodrama. When he tries for something in between, it rarely works.

If films were still silent, he'd be one of The Ones.

For me, he's a symbol, what of, I don't know. He's one of the beauties, and if he's remembered, it will probably be for that only. His surface is endless and holy. Anyone who claims that physical beauty has symmetry at its heart has never closely studied his face.

Jonathan Rhys Meyers, photographed by Greg Lotus

 

29 March 2006 14:09 / Bad musicians I want to have sex with

Their talent is not in music making, but in physical beauty.


Martin Tomlinson, Selfish Cunt

Authority Confrontation live in London, c. 2004
by Selfish Cunt / lyrics coming
album version on No Wicked Heart Shall Prosper, 2004



Tom Atkin, The Paddingtons

Tommy's Disease live in London, c. 2004
by The Paddingtons / lyrics coming
album version on First Comes First, 2005

-
photos by Andrew Kendall

 

above are the entries filed under 'male beauty'.

all other entries are in the directory. some questions are answered at return the ring.