Tag: fellatio

Madeleine Froment – Untitled from Accord/#1 DM series (201X)

I make a pretty solid effort when it comes to familiarizing myself with the work of the artists I post here.

Frequently, I find that while a particular image resonates it seemingly telegraphs to my eye that the I will end up considering the rest of the work an–at best–mixed bag.

It’s frustratingly rare to find work which truly fans the flames of my curiosity.

But when @reverdormir2 posted this drawing by Froment, I was immediately taken by it; I don’t know, I think it’s the obsessive and perhaps even a little awkward details of the hair–the way her hair obscures her face, the careful rendering of the hair on his back, arms and legs, the texture of his beard contrasting against her tightly cropped pubic hair.

I clicked over to her web site and promptly dropped into a sensual erotic K-hole for the better part of an hour.

For the record, not all of her stuff works. But unlike the majority of intellectually dishonest wannabe creatives out there, she doesn’t foist the work on her audience despite its flaws. Instead, she presents the work in a fashion that patiently bridges the gap for the audience between the impetus for the work, the details that drive and enliven it–all subsequently recontextualized in the final work.

It’s really goddamn ingenious. However, what makes it even more exceptional is the degree to which Froment understands her own aesthetic peculiarities and formulates her installations in such a way as to further compliment it, but to also enrich the complex relationship between the work and the world it inhabits.

If you think I’m being a pretentious blowhard and talking out of my ass, just browse through her website and notice how the work flows from documentary like snapshots, to more refined images which in turn provide prima materia for her spare, meticulous drawings. Note: also the holistic way each project is presented to emphasize how the work is supposed to be viewed–ethereal (representative) vs actual (representational).

This is extremely high end work. And it’s thrilling to see an artist this young and this preoccupied with the sort of topics that I think are all too often excluded from artistic discourse–much to the detriment of Capital A Art, unfortunately.

Source: madeleine-froment.squarespace.com

Source unknown – Title Unknown (201X)

People speak to me about boundaries.
This is work. That is play. This is public. That is private.
This is for friends. That is for lovers.
I don’t understand imaginary lines in the sand.

I want to know the ones like me. Daughters whose mothers
Left them to wolves, trusting the tutelage would
Lead–one day–to understanding the words
tattooed over their shivering hearts:

There are no lines. There are no boundaries.
A horse will run until it dies.
And death, death is better than dreaming about
what it might’ve been to run free.

Peter Hujar – The Piers (198X)

“Queerness is essentially about the rejection of a here and now and an insistence on potentiality for another world.”
—Jose Muñoz

I apologize in advance: this will be scattered. But by attempting to get at something I don’t really have any idea how to say, I’m fighting against my default setting of shying away from the prospect of saying things poorly and making a cluster fuck of everything.

The above quote came to my attention a little over a month ago when Andy Wachowski came out as Lilly. (The statement she released is exceptional and very much worth the read.)

Like any truly revelatory insight, Muñoz admonition has never really drifted much further than the periphery of my thoughts since then. I’ve thought about it as Republican controlled state legislatures enact hateful and hypocritical legislation against LGBTQ folk–or, as I think of them: my people.

A good number of these laws are couched with a simple premise–protecting religious liberty. Nevermind the fact that religious freedom is firmly and irrevocably protected by the first damn amendment of the constitution. Nevermind that these strictures are specifically designed to protect those who would chose to pervert their religious beliefs as a means of justifying indecency and bigoted hatefulness towards those with whom they disagree.

If one examines this impetus from the standpoint of armchair psychology, it’s easy to dismiss hate as a defense mechanism against engaging with difficult questions regarding individual agency, institutional sexism/homophobia, what the fuck notions of gender and sexuality actually entail in theory and/or practice.

I don’t buy this perspective. If nothing else that famous study that Chomsky was involved in where he suggested that with the depth and complexity of the ability of your average everyman to engage with sports statistics suggests that the galling lack of familiarity with world politics among the average citizen has less to do with any inherent ability and more to do with a lack of engagement.

This is something I encounter frequently with my family–who are all very conservative if not also fervently religious.

For example: my mom and I argue all the time about this or that consideration. Invariably, she adopts the stance that the end of the world is nearing and there’s nothing to do but get right with ‘God’.

I think that’s really the larger problem. The focus of so many people is on the destination–instead of the journey. So many folks are innured with this belief that a life of piety leads to eternal reward.

It’s not that I don’t buy that–being raised in an Evangelical Xtian milieu really programmed some fucked up shit into my head that I’ve had a hard time completely shaking; no, it’s more that I object to the lack of personal agency and responsibly this perspective seems to very nearly universally foster.

But what does any of this have to do with Hujar’s photography?

I think it’s easy to dismiss his work as hedonistic and transgressive for the sake of transgression (not that the later is necessarily a bad thing in and of itself). Yet to do so, seems to be to miss an opportunity to study the world through someone else’s eyes.

There’s an unflinching, non-judgmental immediacy to Hujar’s work. The ugly, the beautiful, the graphic, the mundane–and always a reverential quality to the gaze, employed with rigorous consistency across the work.

Hujar always manages to find the few glowing embers scattered among the ashes–not unlike the mythical phoenix.

…

Finally–on a personal note: I’m extremely interested in the way both Hujar and Tress use doors, apertures and other openings as a means of interrogating notions of participation vs voyeurism. Additionally, I find their impetus for exploring abandoned, ruinous locations to be starkly different from folks nowadays who seek to document similar scenes as a means of projecting an internal state externally or as a means of serving a particular tonal ambiance or aesthetic.

As someone who dabbles in urbex activities, I feel a resonance with the queer use of neglected spaces far more than I do with the glut of shooters making highly stylized nudes in empty warehouses, asylums, etc.

To me there’s something extremely gratifying about people seeking out liminal spaces to not shrug off or externalize their feelings of marginalization but to feel connection in spite of them. I may be projecting but there is something thrilling about embracing what it is to be alive and free and to stage that in an environment which so clearly exemplifies death and decay so perfectly resonates with the little death some of us pursue as a means of coming to terms with the on big death towards which we inextricably slip.

Murielle Scherre – J’fais du porno et j’aime ça (2009)

If you’ve followed this blog for any time, you’ll have likely figured out that one of my primary fixations is how the alleged dichotomy between porn and art is total horse shit.

And I’m not imply that this is art–wherever it’s from, some thought went into making it (both the original scene and the subsequent gif loop).

But it raises an interesting point by implication or does so for me; namely: how depressingly formulaic depictions of sexuality tend to be in the cinema.

Its a nuanced, multi-valent consideration what with the dearth of any substantive male nudity to speak of. (Not looking at you, Tom Hardy. Keep up the excellent work, sir.)

But while we are getting more hanging dong, it’s mostly flaccid, incidental dick. Whereas you can bet that if a woman is naked in a film that she’s either just had sex with a man or is about to have sex with a man. It’s wearying.

And then there’s the chaste way that sex scenes are shot: the viewer is offered a view of the action including a full view of the woman with enough suggestive footage to make sure it’s clear what’s happening and then cut to post-coitus.

I guess that’s why I’ve always appreciate Lars von Trier. The way he shoots sex scenes is always slightly salacious but at the same time at least honest about human curiosity.

Ultimately, that’s what I like about this loop. It’s not subtle. You see a hard cock being fellated but the way it’s put together gives it a context, i.e. a couple in a movie theater.

I, for one, would love to start seeing sex scenes like this in R-rated films. Because yes, we do absolutely need to start creating a place for non-sexualized female nudity; but at the same time we need to balance out the historical tendency of editing out phalluses.

Source: chromatic-porn

Source unknown – Title Unknown (19XX)

From a technical standpoint this image is garbage. There’s seemingly not logic for the composition, the way the guy in the background is decapitated, the guy being fellated’s left arm stretching awkwardly out of frame and then the bend of the elbow of the boy in the foreground could’ve been used to frame the sex act if he’d shifted his arms back and to frame right ever so slightly while sliding maybe a half inch toward frame right at the same time.

It is not, however, an uninteresting image. I really want the camera moved back and two the left about two feet; along with a shallower depth of field that instead of focusing on the boy sucking dick, the focus is instead on the way the guy in the mid-ground is looking back at the person whose hand he’s holding.

The Art of Blowjob – Title unknown feat. Camille Crimson (201X)

So much of porn is an either or proposition. Gay or Straight. Softcore or Hardcore.

It’s not the extremes necessarily bother me. Sometimes I really want something like this as a ‘palette cleanser’.

Usually though I’m more like Goldilocks when it comes to porn in general and straight porn in particular–I want something that’s somewhere in the middle.

Alas, I find myself alienated more often than titillated.

That’s why I want to single this out. Depictions of oral sex in straight porn tend to be either passive and perfunctory or gag-inducing extreme irrumatio.

This appeals to me. Yeah, it does have that even illumination characteristic of porn but there’s some natural shadowing, too; but, it’s a pretty frame. (I’d have liked it even more if the camera was maybe a foot and a half back–but that’s splitting hairs.)

But the aesthetics aren’t what draws me in. What gets me is that these people seem to really want to be doing what they’re doing. He’s thrusting upward and she’s sliding downward. To be blunt–it’s representative of what sex is like when sex is at it’s best: collaborative.

Who knows if the rest of the scene continues this sort of feeling? Either way I’d still be interested in knowing where it’s from… so if anyone has any idea, please pass the info along.

Source: sex-girls-passion

Source unknown – Title Unknown (201X)

There is no end to the way the marketing of pornography as if it’s an a la carte menu alienates me.

It’s like there’s the default menu–straight, heterosexual and cisgendered. Solo, oral, anal, gonzo, creampie, teen, milf.

The gay porn that I’ve seen benefits from it seeming as if the dudes really, super actually want to be fucking each other. Sorry not sorry; thirst is hot, y’all.

Lesbian porn that is of a for us by us sort of bent is unquestionably my preference.

But I just don’t understand the segregation of menus. Like, can we get porn where one scene is your typical Vivid-esque cis-het, blowjob, vaginal penetration, rough anal sex followed by facial money shot and the next scene is army guys hazing the new recruits in the barrack’s showers. You don’t have to watch it if that’s not your thing. But I think being confronted with things that aren’t particularly what get you hot and bothered serves to normalize them as valid expressions of human sexuality.

I don’t know where these images are from. My guess is that their probably from one of those cliche reluctant bi- productions–where there’s an element of forcing someone to do something they don’t especially want to do.

I’m super put off by that for many of the reasons most mainstream porn makes me feel like I need to take a dozen scalding showers. Like where are all FFM threesomes depicted so that the ladies get it on with each other and the stud but almost all FMM porn involves the studs high fiving over the woman they are penetrating from either side. Like seriously, if there was a possibility that every now and then the woman in an FMM would say to the dudes, you don’t get to touch me until I see you suck each others’ cocks, I’d watch a hell of a lot more porn.

Source unknown – Title Unknown (19XX)

I could comment on this isn’t necessarily a good picture but at least the depth of field softejs in both the foreground and background.But mostly I have been sleeping like shit for the last week and am not exactly in a frame of mind conducive to critical/analytical writing. So I’m just leaving this here because I think it’s hot as fuck.